tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14635395863318418942024-03-14T03:28:47.897-05:00ShantybellumPull up an ice chest or a cotton bale, peel yourself a crawfish, make yourself comfortable and have some fun at the coolest little shack in town.Shantybellumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10717453211744476149noreply@blogger.comBlogger287125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1463539586331841894.post-39390655208940784282024-01-05T20:39:00.002-06:002024-01-06T08:42:52.952-06:00Swimming Underwater<div class="xdj266r x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs x126k92a" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; margin: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space-collapse: preserve;">
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<span style="font-family: georgia;"><i><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjngw5LpV2cJQ9YmXcS0E3Bd7-yyTMwh4BddnHjAD2zi_IML01Omhso9hVecp8TbW0SVasuni6psXh1XNyn-z-OJdLn7-KuP8DJUdu7LejqV7lp5QAWTom0l5rfjEUBfK0lLKbSHp0jReSUqfh1GdOGWu8XXH46Zfw3pfXbcG8_gveOh8z2G40mS219KzqV/s1170/274727041_285938213645065_7597053863479876112_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="834" data-original-width="1170" height="456" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjngw5LpV2cJQ9YmXcS0E3Bd7-yyTMwh4BddnHjAD2zi_IML01Omhso9hVecp8TbW0SVasuni6psXh1XNyn-z-OJdLn7-KuP8DJUdu7LejqV7lp5QAWTom0l5rfjEUBfK0lLKbSHp0jReSUqfh1GdOGWu8XXH46Zfw3pfXbcG8_gveOh8z2G40mS219KzqV/w640-h456/274727041_285938213645065_7597053863479876112_n.jpg" width="640" /></a>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Can't remember if I took this photo or my brother-in-law, Tom
Ackerman, took it. It's my ex-husband with our daughter, who took to
swimming like a tadpole at only two years old.</span></i></span>
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<span style="font-family: georgia;"><i><br /></i></span>
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<span style="font-family: georgia;"><i><br />Some days it's hard to love</i></span>
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<span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>the world. Old friends reject you.</i></span>
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<span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>Nations threaten nuclear annihilation.</i></span>
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<span style="font-family: georgia;"><i><a style="color: #385898; cursor: pointer;" tabindex="-1"></a>Neighbors
go to church every Sunday</i></span>
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<span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>and abuse the waitresses at lunch.</i></span>
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<span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>Move forward, even if it seems impossible,</i></span>
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<span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>even if you're no longer steady on your feet.</i></span>
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<span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>Appreciate the woman at the checkout line who</i></span>
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<span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>insists I go ahead of her.</i></span>
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<span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>The old lady in the produce section</i></span>
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<span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>who shared opinions on the best fruit.</i></span>
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<span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>Try to forget the ones who see you</i></span>
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<span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>but no longer speak. </i></span>
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<span style="font-family: georgia;"><i><br /></i></span>
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<span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>Focus on the ones</i></span>
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<span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>who do, and remember there is good</i></span>
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<span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>in people and bad. There is cowardice.</i></span>
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<span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>There are grudges. There is bravery.</i></span>
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<span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>There is love. There is forgiveness. Sometimes.</i></span>
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<span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>Smile at the little girl staring up</i></span>
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<span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>from her mama's skirts, afraid of my white</i></span>
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<span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>skin. Smile at her and tell her she is beautiful</i></span>
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<span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>and bathe in her coy smile.</i></span>
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<span style="font-family: georgia;"><i><br /></i></span>
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<span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>Nod at the homeless man</i></span>
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<span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>at the entrance to the store,</i></span>
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<span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>and when he asks if I can spare a little money, </i></span>
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<span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>give him more than he expected.</i></span>
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<span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>It's cold outside and wet.</i></span>
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<span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>Try not to grieve the living dead.</i></span>
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<span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>Just move as though through water</i></span>
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<span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>Each time someone pushes you under,</i></span>
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<span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>remember you can swim and breathe the air,</i></span>
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<span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>even if it burns.</i></span>
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Shantybellumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10717453211744476149noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1463539586331841894.post-62932797537381081252023-11-19T18:58:00.004-06:002023-12-12T16:30:45.969-06:00Tommye Lu Foresman Pritchartt: A Talented Lady<p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmnqRMf8QCtYWBHPMQdrvlCrpqHIxlb0U-phyphenhyphenBb4tcuNQaADlyg8czSnVkHSwmKFRDB9h6XmlfO_y_COaK8S5SmKRvM-Nn6SjcCVgX1ig-E-cjvordX2_hOisyZW-RsFEgmR48d5LKlVFsir31GTCXvCiDDo3ssN58JkIQIquuRLuP8ho5qsxC-FlL5Ufr/s1529/Tommy%20Lu%20Pretty.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1027" data-original-width="1529" height="430" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmnqRMf8QCtYWBHPMQdrvlCrpqHIxlb0U-phyphenhyphenBb4tcuNQaADlyg8czSnVkHSwmKFRDB9h6XmlfO_y_COaK8S5SmKRvM-Nn6SjcCVgX1ig-E-cjvordX2_hOisyZW-RsFEgmR48d5LKlVFsir31GTCXvCiDDo3ssN58JkIQIquuRLuP8ho5qsxC-FlL5Ufr/w640-h430/Tommy%20Lu%20Pretty.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><i>Photo by Howard Pritchartt, Jr. Tommye Lu Foresman, 60 years old.</i><p></p><p><i><br /></i></p><p> My father's third wife was Tommye Lu Foresman from Alligator, Mississippi. Yes, there really is an Alligator, Mississippi up in the Delta. My father and Tommye Lu had an ⏤ let's say, interesting ⏤ relationship. It was all love/hate and drama. They both enjoyed a good argument.</p><p>And Daddy was enchanted not only by pretty women, but especially pretty women who sang and played the piano. Lots of fights accompanied by lots of music.</p><p>They would have these huge fights that echoed off the walls of the huge house they inhabited in the country. Once, when I brought my baby girl home to visit, they were having a particularly lively argument. They sounded like dinosaurs fighting, and the house shook with fear.</p><p>"Oh, shut up, you sonofabitch!"</p><p>Once Daddy said she got mad at one of her sons and called him a sonofabitch. He would remember and fall into helpless gales of laughter.</p><p>I had begun to think bitch and jackass were terms of endearment.</p><p>When you grow up in these environments, you don't realize how unusual it is. You think all parents are like that. But on a trip home and seeing my daughter's little chin quivering, I demanded:</p><p>"If you two don't stop shouting, I'm taking Annet and staying someplace else. It's scaring her."</p><p>They were well behaved the rest of the day.</p><p>Daddy told me that once their friend Martha Curry had been out visiting. As often happened Daddy and T Lu got into it. Finally, Martha said, "Look. I've got to go." I'm sure she just wanted out of there.</p><p>"No! No," screamed TLu. "You can't leave me here with him. He'll kill me!"</p><p>"No, he won't," said the all-suffering Martha."</p><p>T-Lu had met Martha the day she was supposed to marry Daddy and ⏤ in true T-Lu style ⏤ had forgotten to make a hair appointment. She came running into the salon in her wedding dress, begging the stylist to do her hair. Martha offered her her own appointment and they were fast friends after that. Daddy and TLu hosted a wedding at their house for her daughter's wedding.</p><p><br /></p><p>(Back to the fight)</p><p><br /></p><p>"Well, then listen," said Tommye Lu, "...if you haven't heard from me in two hours, call the sheriff."</p><p>Martha dutifully promised she would do so and drove home where it was quiet.</p><p>A few minutes later, the fight is over and forgotten about. They BOTH did that. You'd think they'd never speak to you again and five minutes later, it's over.</p><p><br /></p><p>"We were having champagne out here on the front porch," said Daddy, the corner of his lip slightly curled.</p><p>"All of a sudden we hear this, 'WOOP! WOOP! WOOP!, and red and blue lights flashing."</p><p>'Oh, my God! I forgot to call Martha!" Tommye Lu exclaimed. And there was the sheriff, waving and laughing at the nicest domestic violence call he'd ever received.</p><p><br /></p><p>Sometimes their fights would get so bad, they'd each go to a lawyer and have divorce papers written up, ready to use them at a moment's notice. They kept them in separate bank boxes. Daddy went so far as to buy Tommye Lu a house downtown in the garden district. He called it "Her Pouting House." They could fight and she could go stay at her pouting house for a week or two.</p><p>Tommye Lu liked to talk while she prattled about the house. But my father really enjoyed his solitude. He also had his own little hideaway. Just a few feet into the woods, Daddy put a small metal shed. He brought a cot into the room. He had a window-unit air conditioner for summer and a space heater for the winter. He covered the windows with cardboard so she couldn't see the lights at night. </p><p>See, Daddy knew that Tommye Lu was scared to death of snakes and would never, ever, not even once, step into those woods. So even though it was but a few feet from the house, she never knew about it. He would lie on the cot, read the newspapers, listen to a portable radio, pass wind and open a can of sardines and eat an onion. Or a can of Spam. Eddie Albert had nothing on Howard Pritchartt for the joys of farming.</p><p>Then one day I got a call from Daddy, saying he'd been on the tractor all day and his lower leg was swollen and hurting. So he went to see Dr. Tillman the next day who told him it was a blood clot and he had to be admitted and stay perfectly still. He would send him up to Jackson by ambulance the next day.</p><p>The night before they were to leave, Daddy said he was lying in bed. </p><p>"Tommye Lu had been upset all day because she'd dropped a mirror and it broke. She believes that stuff and had been upset all day."</p><p>Tommye Lu had just stepped out of the shower and was walking toward Daddy when she suddenly stumbled and grabbed her head.</p><p>"Baby? You all right?"</p><p>"I'm really dizzhzhhhy," and one side of her face went limp. She'd always had high blood pressure, and they both knew what had happened. He rushed down to her side where she lay, naked and afraid. She looked up at him and pulled his face down to hers and gave him a long, hard kiss.</p><p>"She was just lying there, naked. She looked so beautiful, but we both knew this was bad."</p><p>Despite the divorce papers, the fights, the disappointments and the joys, the fun, the laughter, the good times and the bad, there was still so much love.</p><p>"Where the hell is the ambulance?" he cried. </p><p>It had been 45 minutes. He called again. They said they were having trouble finding it. This was before Garmin, iphones and google maps. Finally, an hour and a half later, they arrived and had her flown to the hospital in Jackson and admitted in ICU.</p><p>Meanwhile, Daddy had his own blood clot and was riding by ambulance to the same hospital. He was on one floor; she was on another. </p><p>"They won't let me go see her," he said, pulling at my arm. I'd just flown in from Los Angeles. I'll go up and check on her and I'll be back." </p><p>This went on for several days. My stepbrothers, Tom and Ed Foresman, were by her side the whole time. But after a few days, they told us she was beyond help. I had to leave Daddy in the hospital. I can't remember why now but I had to get back for something.</p><p>A couple of weeks later, Daddy was up and walking, and Tommye Lu passed quietly away. I remember it was in October. 1995, perhaps?</p><p>I'd never seen real grief before that day. It shocked me. I'd been there when his parents, his friends, would pass away. But I'd never seen his shoulders so slumped, his face so downcast. He was shattered in every way.</p><p>"I never understood it before," he said. "I understand it now." </p><p>He would read the names in the funeral register, over and over noting who hadn't come, hadn't called. To him, friendship was sacred. I don't think he ever forgave them. At least it gave him someone to be angry at.</p><p>One night he was going through pictures. "I remember this day," he said "It was cold outside. We'd had an ice storm.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-M0iydzX1eOwiRC1rDgp0_jGGz2eoO1EZ395HgEHGujQ0_JXavZWnAxReNgAT1GDH03M4_GH98eJYxHLK5DZcJ8IH7IdGACwumZEnJqdstBum6CeYi58t2UKOP_YfZG4WKoRMQPX2aT2VpKpQhmlfS0VCVfwSH3XbY0O4qiynaR2H1aIlz6jIROOThXTC/s1220/Tommy%20Lue%20coat.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1033" data-original-width="1220" height="542" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-M0iydzX1eOwiRC1rDgp0_jGGz2eoO1EZ395HgEHGujQ0_JXavZWnAxReNgAT1GDH03M4_GH98eJYxHLK5DZcJ8IH7IdGACwumZEnJqdstBum6CeYi58t2UKOP_YfZG4WKoRMQPX2aT2VpKpQhmlfS0VCVfwSH3XbY0O4qiynaR2H1aIlz6jIROOThXTC/w640-h542/Tommy%20Lue%20coat.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /> I woke up and looked outside. She was out there holding King Cat (her Siamese) and was wearing a fur coat. God, you know that was the only thing she had on? Nothing else. The sad, faraway look in his eyes spoke of a morning spent doing intimate, unspeakable things, a fire burning in the fireplace while the trees snap and drop branches and fall all around the forest, and thinking that life is just perfect. And it was. For awhile.<p></p><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh770EvVpTTYR2wXQLx9lSMYKxPFXHlMxR48T-38teGOS4ZNed4xzDlUbjVxQiMQgpG3FUi_-vTBrPdwX8KBd-wEttDSd2LMQNUGHVrM5e1PXeQWI4FknrJJmK40saYMkEgNV6dWbYMDrCS39xGq9xG5lNGce2FiXpnQnG-QBhw5Ra26QiqM7CsemrRROEz/s2847/The%20Pianist%20poem.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2847" data-original-width="1141" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh770EvVpTTYR2wXQLx9lSMYKxPFXHlMxR48T-38teGOS4ZNed4xzDlUbjVxQiMQgpG3FUi_-vTBrPdwX8KBd-wEttDSd2LMQNUGHVrM5e1PXeQWI4FknrJJmK40saYMkEgNV6dWbYMDrCS39xGq9xG5lNGce2FiXpnQnG-QBhw5Ra26QiqM7CsemrRROEz/w256-h640/The%20Pianist%20poem.jpg" width="256" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div>Shantybellumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10717453211744476149noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1463539586331841894.post-47772067176685320652023-11-06T16:10:00.003-06:002023-11-15T11:05:06.461-06:0085th Anniversary of the Pilgrimage Garden Club's Acquisition of Stanton Hall<p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj12pWRYxu58FS7TQW6X4aZnbe9Hot7JAEj4bqv9fWpj5Fo4Bz7mI3zBuacNpIM96tlw4NhJXhlUFrH6Y6qYzWC-lU_MfQmhFJJyMj9Tsr488JLrlskcCj7zPb1Z80nc0rQwh4WUvthVrTbkaeaz4ExhHbgn6oublx7q9lZy7k703rtqJiDXIruC54nZ93C/s960/311660464_1101161574100579_6059967268579907063_n.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="538" data-original-width="960" height="359" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj12pWRYxu58FS7TQW6X4aZnbe9Hot7JAEj4bqv9fWpj5Fo4Bz7mI3zBuacNpIM96tlw4NhJXhlUFrH6Y6qYzWC-lU_MfQmhFJJyMj9Tsr488JLrlskcCj7zPb1Z80nc0rQwh4WUvthVrTbkaeaz4ExhHbgn6oublx7q9lZy7k703rtqJiDXIruC54nZ93C/w640-h359/311660464_1101161574100579_6059967268579907063_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Photo by Michael Chapman</i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /> I've been asked to tell the history of Stanton Hall, but that story can't be told without the story of Natchez. Natchez isn't simply a town to those who've lived their lives here. It's its own character, like in a novel. The people here love this town in ways most people don't understand. Natchez is a member of the family. We all grew together.<p></p><p>We all know that Natchez is the oldest town on the Mississippi River, and also one of the wealthiest enclaves in the country before the Civil War. Having plantations across the river in the Louisiana Delta, wealthy landowners built their townhouses (or McMansions) in Natchez to impress each other and give and go to the best parties in town. It's always about who has the most toys. Stanton Hall is today's billionaire's space tour. Natchez had more millionaires, per capita, than any other city in the US from about 1820 to 1860.</p><p>A 2019 article for The New York Times by Richard Rubin states:</p><p><span style="text-align: right;">"Make your way around Natchez, Mississippi, and you get the sense that if some people ever got really close to living like European aristocrats in the United States, it happened here."</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsF4TIPhZr_v8QYRtEutwkA_5RVywf7NTY5Qbz7AGG2eDjncucvjssxLNDYVrnLsBkf3ItnlaRL2qd-GDItJ_11Y1W4UDB0ziToUXMpvCaQ1ujWP7fRIZLWjb4R6KkVTBqo7vbz18cHRvMmJ4FcQmRH-nXWNZ3aA7xklieiGVRllMsYclXhOZQ537CRAdf/s1541/View%20from%20Cupola%20and%20Stanton%20College%20layout.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><img border="0" data-original-height="704" data-original-width="1541" height="292" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsF4TIPhZr_v8QYRtEutwkA_5RVywf7NTY5Qbz7AGG2eDjncucvjssxLNDYVrnLsBkf3ItnlaRL2qd-GDItJ_11Y1W4UDB0ziToUXMpvCaQ1ujWP7fRIZLWjb4R6KkVTBqo7vbz18cHRvMmJ4FcQmRH-nXWNZ3aA7xklieiGVRllMsYclXhOZQ537CRAdf/w640-h292/View%20from%20Cupola%20and%20Stanton%20College%20layout.jpg" width="640" /></i></span></a></div><i style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">This is the view Mr. Stanton had from the cupola atop Stanton Hall where he could watch his cotton and other cargo arrive and leave on the many steamboats that carried cargo of all kinds. In this photo, you can see arrows pointing out where the barn was and still remains.</span></i><p></p><p><span style="text-align: right;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="text-align: right;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFLyF9Ajn3Nech8QC3Kh8yQyD2YszHWsBzqNlgCmLBLtd3WzrAs1UnsFcPrqjBBFFrpHou6N9S2_8HfrwoLfeuYXszglegDVwyuvJxllujWEbsvjUAu14kAjhfhyYin9XDdjvIDULz1cdew3rVvYz-NlamIBuNStmF3COFS4IS4pxiQQssLVy8BapG71bt/s3096/Frederick%20Stanton.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3096" data-original-width="2339" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFLyF9Ajn3Nech8QC3Kh8yQyD2YszHWsBzqNlgCmLBLtd3WzrAs1UnsFcPrqjBBFFrpHou6N9S2_8HfrwoLfeuYXszglegDVwyuvJxllujWEbsvjUAu14kAjhfhyYin9XDdjvIDULz1cdew3rVvYz-NlamIBuNStmF3COFS4IS4pxiQQssLVy8BapG71bt/w485-h640/Frederick%20Stanton.jpg" width="485" /></a></div> <span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Frederick Stanton</i></span><br /><br /><p></p><p><span style="text-align: right;">Frederick Stanton emigrated to America from Ireland in 1815, and settled in Natchez after marrying Hulda Laura Helm at her father's home, "The Helms," in Kentucky in 1827. In the intervening years, the Stantons lived somewhere on Main Street, at the house "Cherokee" on High Street, and at "Glenwood" on the outskirts of town.</span></p><p><span style="text-align: right;">By 1849, Stanton had acquired enough wealth to build his dream home, which he named "Belfast" in honor of his Irish heritage. He bought an entire city block bounded by High, Pearl, Commerce and Monroe Streets for $1,500.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2l4eYZhIUK7UfY1ZBywEs1fl3FUy6q21xqfOYrU3aqMH4NuU9sqU8ZpQ9yBbXsPJh6ZYX3apuTweSLIvEwhMT3whNUzTp1lua5195tIaCxwOVqtsSpEfJdVlhdDrM_BiwssOYvfcCMYi4IfhNV4ajuzQmiXmEki92cTSPJQ_ohfuN-bR5G-Bd5rpJclin/s4032/Thomas%20Rose%20portrait.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2l4eYZhIUK7UfY1ZBywEs1fl3FUy6q21xqfOYrU3aqMH4NuU9sqU8ZpQ9yBbXsPJh6ZYX3apuTweSLIvEwhMT3whNUzTp1lua5195tIaCxwOVqtsSpEfJdVlhdDrM_BiwssOYvfcCMYi4IfhNV4ajuzQmiXmEki92cTSPJQ_ohfuN-bR5G-Bd5rpJclin/w480-h640/Thomas%20Rose%20portrait.jpg" width="480" /></a></div> <span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Captain Thomas Rose</i></span><br /><span style="text-align: right;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="text-align: right;">The architect and builder of Stanton Hall was Captain Thomas Rose, a master carpenter from England, who executed the construction using classical Greek-Revival details, but also using the latest Italianate designs to give it its own character. Incidentally, Captain Rose was my great, great, great grandfather.</span></p><p><span style="text-align: right;">He utilized the 1835 book by Minard Lafever, The Beauties of Modern Architecture, of which I still have his copy, taken to New Orleans for repair before I learned about this lecture. I've found one other first-edition copy online for almost $1,000.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz8OIQP3b_x7za5pxkVjPf32-_Y4q0OmlpZhFqHyJpaFjMItcLBCKQHL-cn5OZ7c8j6uwYoToqouBiQ4_JKK9XlB4lFkvBidRxWZhx7clKWX4bPp2sQ31vF_5U2fTXSNnqCmIbs2O7E8Z6Zaa8mg-970X10XHguEniWmUO12Ci8dcy5oVbZjyGhJ_CFMn0/s4032/Thomas%20Rose's%20book.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz8OIQP3b_x7za5pxkVjPf32-_Y4q0OmlpZhFqHyJpaFjMItcLBCKQHL-cn5OZ7c8j6uwYoToqouBiQ4_JKK9XlB4lFkvBidRxWZhx7clKWX4bPp2sQ31vF_5U2fTXSNnqCmIbs2O7E8Z6Zaa8mg-970X10XHguEniWmUO12Ci8dcy5oVbZjyGhJ_CFMn0/s320/Thomas%20Rose's%20book.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhAYmRLflkUNfHtuOUfjF_2RowqLKbYLPk_sAAYQS871SDBsJJM_R6a1Nbe3ookax76n8owJkKJ0Ib3FD_xx-_Z15FyMfjZYZEOO0Thgjhu0dHEIEdr4IarDN6-obRSLcFgeHkNAHGf7M4NA6ihUyV15r5WH9DR2zFsx5TqkVfZs-rjgiUzhW6xRZY28QC/s4032/Thomas%20Rose.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhAYmRLflkUNfHtuOUfjF_2RowqLKbYLPk_sAAYQS871SDBsJJM_R6a1Nbe3ookax76n8owJkKJ0Ib3FD_xx-_Z15FyMfjZYZEOO0Thgjhu0dHEIEdr4IarDN6-obRSLcFgeHkNAHGf7M4NA6ihUyV15r5WH9DR2zFsx5TqkVfZs-rjgiUzhW6xRZY28QC/s320/Thomas%20Rose.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGITWqzjyRjXKGRFypR3ErVDnCjEUc2ESjnHfXX7VAExPLxQ0b2bi5xQqUwhfrlXCdwd76aOp1QoxUy1_NiEJv7qna9FdMnLFo0-2uL5wj6br9i6ta4cFv0oepveX0OoFw_b5xGNFZwuCCkClTSVe6n3KuMgcL8T2zinCSrpBg1wwyPwbtvArNnlY6Ciha/s975/Rose%20book%20illustrations%202.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="975" data-original-width="738" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGITWqzjyRjXKGRFypR3ErVDnCjEUc2ESjnHfXX7VAExPLxQ0b2bi5xQqUwhfrlXCdwd76aOp1QoxUy1_NiEJv7qna9FdMnLFo0-2uL5wj6br9i6ta4cFv0oepveX0OoFw_b5xGNFZwuCCkClTSVe6n3KuMgcL8T2zinCSrpBg1wwyPwbtvArNnlY6Ciha/s320/Rose%20book%20illustrations%202.jpg" width="242" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6QeMfkZbD44gSulzY5bv661rca_OU0Dr4yJ59KDbrKZ6ub3gcxmgW1EuDGe6nVEI_8C6UXbylACYk_VCFvYBLYzCHsvRSCRHoVRKONkEJij_T2Wh2cdaYq2jHkBNJm4WXiWzcWoExJLp4fji466_s9AaXt7hBKx676JEFqWl_ZVQ30y-c5s8lNIeaci6B/s916/Rose%20book%20illustrations2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="916" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6QeMfkZbD44gSulzY5bv661rca_OU0Dr4yJ59KDbrKZ6ub3gcxmgW1EuDGe6nVEI_8C6UXbylACYk_VCFvYBLYzCHsvRSCRHoVRKONkEJij_T2Wh2cdaYq2jHkBNJm4WXiWzcWoExJLp4fji466_s9AaXt7hBKx676JEFqWl_ZVQ30y-c5s8lNIeaci6B/s320/Rose%20book%20illustrations2.jpg" width="262" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDq3f06KuJJuq9Qo9EmQf4OJ-JiNHgAMKKhHNOaip1E4MbRRFP8IbU9Z-P6ilD1ECIDr4Isunj1LHNvLMAKc7KBy2h6NH7J_QnoTKZfVpHnxr6hwd2rLZjRyyOPVub2zE0fZrF4JvQcl3gvYNL_cyd1mL5X4nA-iiK3VHb8TS-8kGrGMHofquSsvYRk_Wq/s960/Save%20the%20Halll3.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="679" data-original-width="960" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDq3f06KuJJuq9Qo9EmQf4OJ-JiNHgAMKKhHNOaip1E4MbRRFP8IbU9Z-P6ilD1ECIDr4Isunj1LHNvLMAKc7KBy2h6NH7J_QnoTKZfVpHnxr6hwd2rLZjRyyOPVub2zE0fZrF4JvQcl3gvYNL_cyd1mL5X4nA-iiK3VHb8TS-8kGrGMHofquSsvYRk_Wq/s320/Save%20the%20Halll3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="text-align: right;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="text-align: right;">Rose sent regular bills to Stanton for the work, which eventually totalled $83,262.23. This included furnishing the plans for the house, receiving all the materials, and contracting all the carpentry work, the painting, glazing, varnishing, roofing, plastering and sundry work on the interior and exterior.</span></p><p><span style="text-align: right;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiIZV4Eqvljsp7ju-Z2WxXnEhIIGyfL5M6AmNjbAxZDis6zWObb0wp_Sb3KyfHmheoJkE5TSjgwisFS7IQe0sYmieTIXCO8eSsPhECr3D6iRTH_G49wBNXtDP77dtMGz1vjFRSu53RMBVyR-434BgSyioAHbmEv0Xzacmag6m3pZNliJeRLgXnT6ALNXAn/s1125/Invoice,%20Robert%20Stewart,%20Natchez%20cabinetmaker%20and%20retailer.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1125" data-original-width="988" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiIZV4Eqvljsp7ju-Z2WxXnEhIIGyfL5M6AmNjbAxZDis6zWObb0wp_Sb3KyfHmheoJkE5TSjgwisFS7IQe0sYmieTIXCO8eSsPhECr3D6iRTH_G49wBNXtDP77dtMGz1vjFRSu53RMBVyR-434BgSyioAHbmEv0Xzacmag6m3pZNliJeRLgXnT6ALNXAn/w562-h640/Invoice,%20Robert%20Stewart,%20Natchez%20cabinetmaker%20and%20retailer.jpg" width="562" /></a></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> Invoice from Robert Stewart, a local cabinetmaker and retailer.</i></span><br /><span style="text-align: right;"><br /></span><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9SzF6XM7UaFy6wQ41Hf0Tw6aJ0j-SDYuNbcqPc4CVMWwDHeJwd5qimfM0ONcC2pPOnKINCn4HQiUw737AjrNXNQhynvaKbhx91UDqk5IG_chCBx2VhIHPLzPwcBy8916tstFxFmpKyMUvvtV5kK-ngQ3wSJ0jAltfwWEMGHIFSWSuKqdy-H1p4B8Ja1ck/s480/edgewood.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="300" data-original-width="480" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9SzF6XM7UaFy6wQ41Hf0Tw6aJ0j-SDYuNbcqPc4CVMWwDHeJwd5qimfM0ONcC2pPOnKINCn4HQiUw737AjrNXNQhynvaKbhx91UDqk5IG_chCBx2VhIHPLzPwcBy8916tstFxFmpKyMUvvtV5kK-ngQ3wSJ0jAltfwWEMGHIFSWSuKqdy-H1p4B8Ja1ck/w640-h400/edgewood.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p> <span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Edgewood</i></span></p><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL2PNBo6A0CiObvFajombcdTovtwg6tor7GfoGTq7hilSsYtHCK8Fkmh4I6eux4GJf2VdhT8xNtStmXFS3gzICH1Q-FF-wtqej6Hs4BFxdnLt60zg0ee8Iw00DfAul4z92Ls-N5skBy-_ONuje74uRp-1IoOae5s8pMB0DM-wYoa19e9c49nAPvGPor5hY/s1023/3520086857_d9ef6ac2e0_b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="682" data-original-width="1023" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL2PNBo6A0CiObvFajombcdTovtwg6tor7GfoGTq7hilSsYtHCK8Fkmh4I6eux4GJf2VdhT8xNtStmXFS3gzICH1Q-FF-wtqej6Hs4BFxdnLt60zg0ee8Iw00DfAul4z92Ls-N5skBy-_ONuje74uRp-1IoOae5s8pMB0DM-wYoa19e9c49nAPvGPor5hY/w640-h426/3520086857_d9ef6ac2e0_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><span style="text-align: right;"> <span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Elms Court</i></span></span><p></p><p><span style="text-align: right;">Rose also built Edgewood, Elms Court and a number of smaller houses in town. Rose signed his work at Elms Court. I read an article online that Rose had asked Stanton if he could sign his work at Stanton Hall and was refused. The article stated that that is the reason the wrought-iron on the porches and balconies of the house were festooned with roses, a mild rebuke for not being able to sign his name.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg33m5MEQ5VjwWXs1Bs-Jrpo7zByqGaEtvgDPCekKI52Qi5CvlVTuWhHY-qZwNweD94pj4eQ2EVmbUgHj3s3zA12kCIdSmM04JTnvIri1hF_nH277LyzzpFHe0CC-bCuuW1BK1RHELBnvVk3VEjACeBv1J8q_wQq7zRNUwNTa5-AuxgZ8FVEp5fNpLRwxto/s559/wrought%20iron%20roses.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="403" data-original-width="559" height="462" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg33m5MEQ5VjwWXs1Bs-Jrpo7zByqGaEtvgDPCekKI52Qi5CvlVTuWhHY-qZwNweD94pj4eQ2EVmbUgHj3s3zA12kCIdSmM04JTnvIri1hF_nH277LyzzpFHe0CC-bCuuW1BK1RHELBnvVk3VEjACeBv1J8q_wQq7zRNUwNTa5-AuxgZ8FVEp5fNpLRwxto/w640-h462/wrought%20iron%20roses.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p><br /></p>This is off topic, but I thought you might enjoy these photos of Elizabeth Taylor at Elms Court during the filming of Raintree County.<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnI3RXxIqVeqkG8kfkM3NfzCH6NNnOIaaY7CZBQE5sVQdB42yFYHgbuJ3fKd2fil92FMAlkHrzOE1xE7z9Jh_4IfrBpG3F7A9oBqvAHz3L6tqGtmYSoK4dIHj3VV17UIKyHL6_4vCWxxF_V2n2FOWB0qEUNRrTZ24mG3rXCHh5zLH52xLVcGESb23zlWRC/s1492/Elizabeth%20Taylor%20at%20Elms%20Court1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1492" data-original-width="1189" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnI3RXxIqVeqkG8kfkM3NfzCH6NNnOIaaY7CZBQE5sVQdB42yFYHgbuJ3fKd2fil92FMAlkHrzOE1xE7z9Jh_4IfrBpG3F7A9oBqvAHz3L6tqGtmYSoK4dIHj3VV17UIKyHL6_4vCWxxF_V2n2FOWB0qEUNRrTZ24mG3rXCHh5zLH52xLVcGESb23zlWRC/w510-h640/Elizabeth%20Taylor%20at%20Elms%20Court1.jpg" width="510" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXV6xTt9WURIvuyBc4y53UPlZRuwSSxS9qCy30RyNjDNLGgxlJKKe2Ld0icg4vr5EaJh4woCP8rzP3Op2VrXckkn9Erk1BvopxG8v1gcCy7NBJM7EXuRlylSQlK51JsbThYzoQtKlqyvst_Mfau78_aCVKJw0FjIWkaTaVoOvdmALA3FRlR31O_MuGq6aT/s1487/Elizabeth%20Taylor%20at%20Elms%20Court%202.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1487" data-original-width="1185" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXV6xTt9WURIvuyBc4y53UPlZRuwSSxS9qCy30RyNjDNLGgxlJKKe2Ld0icg4vr5EaJh4woCP8rzP3Op2VrXckkn9Erk1BvopxG8v1gcCy7NBJM7EXuRlylSQlK51JsbThYzoQtKlqyvst_Mfau78_aCVKJw0FjIWkaTaVoOvdmALA3FRlR31O_MuGq6aT/w510-h640/Elizabeth%20Taylor%20at%20Elms%20Court%202.jpg" width="510" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJW59XnQmr-OGqyg-u9s0TlG87HwXI5VtA-7QusI4FDcYOETN1iSKs-YiZAiBwwN3nwIL-gEiw_yV_iRZoDxT3vAdLxDYrYC9pKz-sB7LjrFPysAw8BaVSG6ycF7Q0V09F4P5MoWG0joMN2Af62BUjHdA4INzUzyzyp102bMgi5WceOhdou6aIlBz2ptxZ/s1484/Elizabeth%20Taylor%20at%20Elmscourt%203.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1484" data-original-width="1330" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJW59XnQmr-OGqyg-u9s0TlG87HwXI5VtA-7QusI4FDcYOETN1iSKs-YiZAiBwwN3nwIL-gEiw_yV_iRZoDxT3vAdLxDYrYC9pKz-sB7LjrFPysAw8BaVSG6ycF7Q0V09F4P5MoWG0joMN2Af62BUjHdA4INzUzyzyp102bMgi5WceOhdou6aIlBz2ptxZ/w574-h640/Elizabeth%20Taylor%20at%20Elmscourt%203.jpg" width="574" /></a></div><br /><p><br /><span style="text-align: right;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="text-align: right;">Rose killed himself in 1860 just before the war for nonpayment of one of the houses he built, having been bankrupted from that nonpayment. No one believed he was really bankrupt, as is indicated by a diary entry by Natchez planter, scientist and historian B.L.C. Wailes, dated January 1860:</span></p><p><span style="text-align: right;">"Mr. Thomas Rose, who has made a fortune in and about Natchez, where he has lived for twenty years or more, as a master mechanic, and who is worth not less than $150 thousand, is on board the General Quitman in the charge of his son and a few friends who are taking him to the lunatic asylum in Jackson, having been deranged by the present political excitement (that sounds like me!) and imagines himself ruined and poor. He is a worthy and industrious and sober man, much esteemed. From the present indications in the political arena, there are thousands among the disunionists more mad than he."</span></p><p><span style="text-align: right;">On April 28, 1860, the Reverend Joseph Buck Stratton, minister of the First Presbyterian Church, wrote in his diary that, "... he had been sent for to visit the family of Mr. Thomas Rose, who under derangement of mind, shot himself this evening."</span></p><p><span style="text-align: right;">The following are some older photos of Stanton Hall.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPQpDeLPQ56aPoFjsc-AQCMvriinNgCyMSVbJPsOuGTMEkUDwzduXRyGaLspg7whwZ6xhGEuJ4jBWtquwZU83lSPAww2VroYMKQNm06hH_XOUU_jkfqTvifYDdL0Z7LNEFw1tum8DHj9EaSAV47bubkqHcq4AvXhpTRwmRXPdShhPpd9VBYkqb9mMt47zq/s1921/Stanton%20Hall%204.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1549" data-original-width="1921" height="516" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPQpDeLPQ56aPoFjsc-AQCMvriinNgCyMSVbJPsOuGTMEkUDwzduXRyGaLspg7whwZ6xhGEuJ4jBWtquwZU83lSPAww2VroYMKQNm06hH_XOUU_jkfqTvifYDdL0Z7LNEFw1tum8DHj9EaSAV47bubkqHcq4AvXhpTRwmRXPdShhPpd9VBYkqb9mMt47zq/w640-h516/Stanton%20Hall%204.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdTxqrPGNG8wEZq6ZrfJH8vzDHOnaIIxUkaYx4eGKZIRD6xFzJmXJ1ReSeAnD_4i5-zun2_RkYww5VbBPEAqXNHmfPfh93z8Mko6tMIjpsvmy52ACvven40UXya6ewkVtzmxAujLKbsEsGhDgYg6Hfnqp3tp3NioakdlS0T9CVpQOdB_9uZ4Bp5Ss5Jk1W/s1468/Stanton%20Hall%201938.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1468" data-original-width="1181" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdTxqrPGNG8wEZq6ZrfJH8vzDHOnaIIxUkaYx4eGKZIRD6xFzJmXJ1ReSeAnD_4i5-zun2_RkYww5VbBPEAqXNHmfPfh93z8Mko6tMIjpsvmy52ACvven40UXya6ewkVtzmxAujLKbsEsGhDgYg6Hfnqp3tp3NioakdlS0T9CVpQOdB_9uZ4Bp5Ss5Jk1W/w514-h640/Stanton%20Hall%201938.jpg" width="514" /></a></div> <span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Stanton Hall, 1938</i></span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq4JZNW3eq6MhCjxdNRl2Y3nayGLiGClivL5hKqQL8R78KIy3XujEbCHD_qrzH-k7C7l8eP1Vg8JbNcFsXXbCnP0-vgZdEzD26jeGS9BDvWZyopX1Gc7X0x5h1dy6H13yJX7PdSlq6tVTKBWVL4oh1NjN4_QA7rEdxguqWBPiwBVUHlKyKJgXJtXxFYC0T/s1995/historic%20view%20from%20balcony.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1546" data-original-width="1995" height="496" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq4JZNW3eq6MhCjxdNRl2Y3nayGLiGClivL5hKqQL8R78KIy3XujEbCHD_qrzH-k7C7l8eP1Vg8JbNcFsXXbCnP0-vgZdEzD26jeGS9BDvWZyopX1Gc7X0x5h1dy6H13yJX7PdSlq6tVTKBWVL4oh1NjN4_QA7rEdxguqWBPiwBVUHlKyKJgXJtXxFYC0T/w640-h496/historic%20view%20from%20balcony.jpg" width="640" /></a></div> <span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Historic view from the front balcony of Stanton Hall</i></span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQNNLNz2d3c46WzIohbTD65cYBsxdPSklYyPlBjUfyNalVqbEElVWHSOeVXZajcif5fKW1ddhAMMxmbAlXv_0F-jmII44UkZiMPuZtsUUbi_GTg9XMeH5kQG1o-cuuAGomnLwTv_VHm4GtEjAn7frD0iSkw1VmfWjD6fnfG4uzs9Y9DSFzJlxrHQnfMmt_/s9000/Northeast%20corner%20rear%20of%20Stanton%20Hall%209881.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="9000" data-original-width="6000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQNNLNz2d3c46WzIohbTD65cYBsxdPSklYyPlBjUfyNalVqbEElVWHSOeVXZajcif5fKW1ddhAMMxmbAlXv_0F-jmII44UkZiMPuZtsUUbi_GTg9XMeH5kQG1o-cuuAGomnLwTv_VHm4GtEjAn7frD0iSkw1VmfWjD6fnfG4uzs9Y9DSFzJlxrHQnfMmt_/w426-h640/Northeast%20corner%20rear%20of%20Stanton%20Hall%209881.jpg" width="426" /></a></div> <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Rear view of Stanton Hall</i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-3m_iRZ8ZuNEMhwm8xjtbt833NRw8wFHmf7dD8LS9ciK2Op2U41y48usCw7oDUTUk9t723hrWTdJ0jhY2VNt9yqHpHrzCGxsbXsKU9aZ8Y2kbxsYtRJoXz34TjMnGeTPxJ0wJHrxkYUfqnYB2UF6Z8jdOxqtDDI_G_i44QHzmjGlprdQsbv3_9D1LYRx0/s1000/Ladies%20on%20balconey.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="666" data-original-width="1000" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-3m_iRZ8ZuNEMhwm8xjtbt833NRw8wFHmf7dD8LS9ciK2Op2U41y48usCw7oDUTUk9t723hrWTdJ0jhY2VNt9yqHpHrzCGxsbXsKU9aZ8Y2kbxsYtRJoXz34TjMnGeTPxJ0wJHrxkYUfqnYB2UF6Z8jdOxqtDDI_G_i44QHzmjGlprdQsbv3_9D1LYRx0/w640-h426/Ladies%20on%20balconey.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> Ladies on the upstairs balcony, which shows the scale of the house. Photographer unknown.</i></span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrJXKyxflGi4QU5IySGgG-U1udNwKQcWFy9Eg6tkIvgrjKwbh4GyG2wuUYhIZa158AFf5a-v4CV9RmPBnbf5HWaGpSbnG0NfO69WFNFYEGMJeEbC9VcH1brV_Ry_v0kQGSBeIEhqArY15ZAt_5togc5PhC6OLIaLKK22UhXaqPtknxzcSRxPJzjfUtTBJ9/s2016/blueprint%201.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1512" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrJXKyxflGi4QU5IySGgG-U1udNwKQcWFy9Eg6tkIvgrjKwbh4GyG2wuUYhIZa158AFf5a-v4CV9RmPBnbf5HWaGpSbnG0NfO69WFNFYEGMJeEbC9VcH1brV_Ry_v0kQGSBeIEhqArY15ZAt_5togc5PhC6OLIaLKK22UhXaqPtknxzcSRxPJzjfUtTBJ9/w480-h640/blueprint%201.jpg" width="480" /></a></div> <span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Blueprint for Stanton Hall</i></span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4vQmLJg1eKfi1N3msZoG3QaOcosRk1DEYkOPaC5kHNmNovSrD8Ejez-gogUO59Q-1Ac6LYfufwBpBhC1MpN5yxvFPNJG40XWHwFoOExYBINn9jfOvhyXYh6q8DcwdhO1CzwtonMEQWF7dw4U2FS39vruOOPha8WRLmPWpfiTGur0WgIw-R5qfIhIIDGe5/s3944/Stanton%20Hall,%20exterior,%20old.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3048" data-original-width="3944" height="494" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4vQmLJg1eKfi1N3msZoG3QaOcosRk1DEYkOPaC5kHNmNovSrD8Ejez-gogUO59Q-1Ac6LYfufwBpBhC1MpN5yxvFPNJG40XWHwFoOExYBINn9jfOvhyXYh6q8DcwdhO1CzwtonMEQWF7dw4U2FS39vruOOPha8WRLmPWpfiTGur0WgIw-R5qfIhIIDGe5/w640-h494/Stanton%20Hall,%20exterior,%20old.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><span style="text-align: right;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="text-align: right;">Frederick Stanton only lived in his beloved "Belfast" for about a month before dying of chronic liver inflammation at the age of 65 in 1859.</span></p><p><span style="text-align: right;">Quoting President Emeritus of the Historic Natchez Foundation, Mimi Miller:</span></p><p><span style="text-align: right;">"Most Natchez fortunes were wiped out by the Civil War; but Natchez, itself, was spared largely because Natchez voted against secession.</span></p><p><span style="text-align: right;">"Not that its elite were opposed to slavery -- most of their fortunes were built on cotton, and thus, on slave labor ,"-- but as Mimi put it, "the town's leading citizens recognized that secession was bad for business -- and crazy."</span></p><p><span style="text-align: right;">For the next 34 years, the house was occupied by his widow, Hulda and other Stanton family members. In 1893, Hulda died of apoplexy, which probably meant a stroke. The opulence and size of the house made it a great financial burden on his heirs.</span></p><p><span style="text-align: right;">In 1894, Stanton's heirs divided the furnishings and sold the house to the Stanton College for Young Ladies. The college occupied the house until the early 1900s when it was relocated to the nearby home "Choctaw," where it remained until it closed in 1915. Trinity School did the same thing when it moved into the mansion "Magnolia Hall" before building a proper school on the outskirts of town.</span></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMhtrW1jlMeF3EfhYTK5xWYDu3vqFZ0gyRm071Cxp2T77efoXojuC0N99J5otEpm1kH0V5iJ8oVCRq5NNF1S0pi_DNTRiKfVlrEibFHuC_nqS8VP-PaCp20YsqbcOEoFpDOOPGEVPJ2NJLZqHX4UBOUGfUIDlfZj6-8UY2DVz4fxZ1XTJg9TFooHsQmNf1/s3055/Stanton%20College%20classroom.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2535" data-original-width="3055" height="532" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMhtrW1jlMeF3EfhYTK5xWYDu3vqFZ0gyRm071Cxp2T77efoXojuC0N99J5otEpm1kH0V5iJ8oVCRq5NNF1S0pi_DNTRiKfVlrEibFHuC_nqS8VP-PaCp20YsqbcOEoFpDOOPGEVPJ2NJLZqHX4UBOUGfUIDlfZj6-8UY2DVz4fxZ1XTJg9TFooHsQmNf1/w640-h532/Stanton%20College%20classroom.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRzK4jSjx22Nvvr-LMOzmTpG3StUAFmVlUcTmFebhCh5zeUHdtsqVionoxQ3CX4Q3LjtLAoL8AK9w7OHbl9AwkvW054dp43Z8m93sZtMx2UlikKk9FKGNzWewa1Smo6NQYF9KfmI7X4ECSDg1tu5thMF-gS8OpoN2Q3u8HSB6q7f_RDZ0TL5TWS2dhmAYA/s2524/Stanton%20College%20layout.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2524" data-original-width="1470" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRzK4jSjx22Nvvr-LMOzmTpG3StUAFmVlUcTmFebhCh5zeUHdtsqVionoxQ3CX4Q3LjtLAoL8AK9w7OHbl9AwkvW054dp43Z8m93sZtMx2UlikKk9FKGNzWewa1Smo6NQYF9KfmI7X4ECSDg1tu5thMF-gS8OpoN2Q3u8HSB6q7f_RDZ0TL5TWS2dhmAYA/w372-h640/Stanton%20College%20layout.jpg" width="372" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: right;"><br /></div><span style="text-align: right;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx8CESZwjwpjhnk7RaZ1wU7xx8SOi8_9D9amU4n2i0RbaN0sKqHp0Tw1X4VkjwGamgbCRXQYPbFcSB5viy7tamC8mfETK-4kAZiTVC8RoWM3xwkHEaSmkYI_ecdTCSz84nwNsKNCXzYm-0dyDycCv_Pk70uTgZgzh373mtEhzcsr-zzreR2FmThL7q41M3/s1380/Girls%20at%20Stanton%20College.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1372" data-original-width="1380" height="636" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx8CESZwjwpjhnk7RaZ1wU7xx8SOi8_9D9amU4n2i0RbaN0sKqHp0Tw1X4VkjwGamgbCRXQYPbFcSB5viy7tamC8mfETK-4kAZiTVC8RoWM3xwkHEaSmkYI_ecdTCSz84nwNsKNCXzYm-0dyDycCv_Pk70uTgZgzh373mtEhzcsr-zzreR2FmThL7q41M3/w640-h636/Girls%20at%20Stanton%20College.jpg" width="640" /></a></div></div><p> <span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Girls at Stanton College in front of Choctaw. From left: Ethel Brandon, Annet Pritchartt (my great aunt). According to artist Noah Saterstrom, Ethel marked the other two as Bertha and Lots.</i></span></p><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTwh0gwSWKQFR1qjpb2m0eSHu-t1eU1ZiV6KQnNJQXKwQvfFvjjlQJz62aGdAxXEMOPU_jkIfLTuuRnC4YuYIetMU22whywMQQb8n0LtKACs2IBoLCas0J_SKIVT8xAfSJVbHhp1_V-1hyphenhyphen74xtYwWzhTn9cRA_X8liaBkiGqW6la9kkATCoWGd7SwzynjU/s1686/Annet's%20report%20card%202.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="962" data-original-width="1686" height="366" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTwh0gwSWKQFR1qjpb2m0eSHu-t1eU1ZiV6KQnNJQXKwQvfFvjjlQJz62aGdAxXEMOPU_jkIfLTuuRnC4YuYIetMU22whywMQQb8n0LtKACs2IBoLCas0J_SKIVT8xAfSJVbHhp1_V-1hyphenhyphen74xtYwWzhTn9cRA_X8liaBkiGqW6la9kkATCoWGd7SwzynjU/w640-h366/Annet's%20report%20card%202.jpg" width="640" /></a></div> <span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Annet Pritchartt's report card from Stanton College for Ladies</i></span><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLMSzevFxs1kaWpx9WHT7FNLny8Tfpb_BlLeeAXFtp-mWXmWx-KPV019ZXAXLk-OlV09iBBDMWor416AisnawwqqaffJYiNfqhmYb3az4kHCqO3WQVWfWLIwySEUNaE0kceSJ-meBOPOAXRh2uNaN0LX3GXIdwI15Vv65Sn1Ml0oqeI-HwSgygN4nqjMyt/s1926/Annet's%20report%20card.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1926" data-original-width="1701" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLMSzevFxs1kaWpx9WHT7FNLny8Tfpb_BlLeeAXFtp-mWXmWx-KPV019ZXAXLk-OlV09iBBDMWor416AisnawwqqaffJYiNfqhmYb3az4kHCqO3WQVWfWLIwySEUNaE0kceSJ-meBOPOAXRh2uNaN0LX3GXIdwI15Vv65Sn1Ml0oqeI-HwSgygN4nqjMyt/w566-h640/Annet's%20report%20card.jpg" width="566" /></a><p></p><p>I also have a yearbook from Stanton College, "The Tadpole," which I also took to New Orleans to be repaired or I'd have brought it with me.</p><p><br /></p><p>In the early 1900s, the house was again occupied by family members, Mr. and Mrs. A.G. Campbell</p><p>In 1917, the house was sold to Luther Childs, and in 1920, was sold to R.T. Clark, who lived there with his family until 1938 when it was bought by the Pilgrimage Garden Club for use as its club headquarters. It remains with the PGC, which uses it as its headquarters, and operates it as a museum, event venue and clubhouse. The club bought Stanton Hall, along with the entire block for $16 thousand. Every woman in the club signed the mortgage, along with their husbands, who also signed in order to guarantee the loan.</p><p>Aside from certain gasoliers, mirrors and a smattering of original furniture, the house was essentially empty when the club acquired it, so they pulled together to refurnish it.</p><p>Just as the ladies of Natchez had pulled together to create the Pilgrimage, they did the same for Stanton Hall, donating many of their own pieces of silver, crystal, furniture, etc. It wasn't original, and it wasn't necessarily period, but through the years and a lot of research, they've managed to bring the house closer to its original decor, including Stanton family pieces that were returned to the home by family members and their descendants.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXhQZ3Yqn5QLL24gKxHEHEAUfdoFU-TDe3-Ufzr-vW09o7VWsxNrJ034EZizr1sVBy2Y-N-4zU0qUgsTSzBvOlQ_I1qQ7OuwapyAQJhzwunSYs3RfmlCXOLGzWFfoDV2BrYydQeMUJ4IVNLNX1BbJy3XnUHhz7SFkjfEIDogmLuH_UtgQk-eVGCN5Y8lVO/s3595/Stanton%20Hall%20Parlors%201888%20Original%20Scan.tif" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2289" data-original-width="3595" height="408" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXhQZ3Yqn5QLL24gKxHEHEAUfdoFU-TDe3-Ufzr-vW09o7VWsxNrJ034EZizr1sVBy2Y-N-4zU0qUgsTSzBvOlQ_I1qQ7OuwapyAQJhzwunSYs3RfmlCXOLGzWFfoDV2BrYydQeMUJ4IVNLNX1BbJy3XnUHhz7SFkjfEIDogmLuH_UtgQk-eVGCN5Y8lVO/w640-h408/Stanton%20Hall%20Parlors%201888%20Original%20Scan.tif" width="640" /></a></div> <span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Original furnishings when the Stantons lived there.</i></span><div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div>Interior designer and antiques dealer, Earlhart Miller, helped them. It was he who installed the Zuber wallpaper in the upstairs hall, which, while not original to the house, is certainly beautiful.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrP38pg24IvQ4NgUetk01MzUJV-82ASvpDq8E19Jwj0Jkxwkab6a_taKdVHBA317B9hXSt1ji4I_gVL0_HPw5itJUxrfDgHbtR28ZHRmXVFHbsQgz24X1GlThgfD0BhM86Vs4ivL5HJ0vorZNSzINWJaEFjA5TY16MelEk6XpfhnChjTYyUDjlkQAMqKJ5/s640/Zuber%201.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrP38pg24IvQ4NgUetk01MzUJV-82ASvpDq8E19Jwj0Jkxwkab6a_taKdVHBA317B9hXSt1ji4I_gVL0_HPw5itJUxrfDgHbtR28ZHRmXVFHbsQgz24X1GlThgfD0BhM86Vs4ivL5HJ0vorZNSzINWJaEFjA5TY16MelEk6XpfhnChjTYyUDjlkQAMqKJ5/w480-h640/Zuber%201.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBM1SgKKQCKOwJ6QmE7VcpWwLzS54xxJ6sOwF_RRgXL2_I2QU7LBsPLoGLRJA5doM6fWcQ3m-5Gqag9g5aBdWB_VOHmW_5wO34y6Bk__gTwUkQxAmoW9lTVfMWjbh3WQq0RDFerkKtdPzWpcnI6KPfu-cPE0WJUs6XEsv1X9t6gicZpkv2ieXXajdLzBeX/s640/Zuber%202.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="399" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBM1SgKKQCKOwJ6QmE7VcpWwLzS54xxJ6sOwF_RRgXL2_I2QU7LBsPLoGLRJA5doM6fWcQ3m-5Gqag9g5aBdWB_VOHmW_5wO34y6Bk__gTwUkQxAmoW9lTVfMWjbh3WQq0RDFerkKtdPzWpcnI6KPfu-cPE0WJUs6XEsv1X9t6gicZpkv2ieXXajdLzBeX/w400-h640/Zuber%202.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div><br /></div>According to Mrs. Bettye Jenkins, who lives at Hawthorne, Stanton Hall was in good shape when they bought it. They never had to do too much to it, but it was empty.<div><br /></div><div>"There was a great debate on whether the gold drapes in the downstairs were appropriate," said Mrs. Jenkins.</div><div><br /></div><div>"I don't remember how long the debate went on, but it was a big to-do. There was nothing wrong with the gold drapes, but they were correct in that they were originally red."</div><div><br /></div><div>Margaret Martin, a Stanton descendant who had lived at Stanton Hall, found a panel of red draperies in her attic that had been originally installed in the house. That answered the question, so the panel was sent to Schumacher Fabrics to recreate the material for the drapes.</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKRqbhn20Vo3h_1pJ4Qc9dxCW2wk6MH38pX4eTgpQMGDIsbeVXgFAnOVCX5Noc1VBApN5NroNT21vBzY92a89lw-Lexs6N1NedgSSP1_QrdEDgKv1tAiS4mvlCx5cQJfGVHfyM98OuAVIreN_WO_k026WfsYzmBkUHvTNbror5o8634UVaOsPz87LnFuSO/s474/OIP.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="303" data-original-width="474" height="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKRqbhn20Vo3h_1pJ4Qc9dxCW2wk6MH38pX4eTgpQMGDIsbeVXgFAnOVCX5Noc1VBApN5NroNT21vBzY92a89lw-Lexs6N1NedgSSP1_QrdEDgKv1tAiS4mvlCx5cQJfGVHfyM98OuAVIreN_WO_k026WfsYzmBkUHvTNbror5o8634UVaOsPz87LnFuSO/w640-h410/OIP.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><span> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCrYYdkC42PFGeD2tFhNOjymeYCykqlzZqs1NPonXwp-KGkn5UtWMfb0vFlQOivQtFgEtUZg_PJGo8pUU2SyhGvW9oYLZP_S6IUJCjETqzBfNcYekwkkdt_SmmVN6GY25p6zDIa8Y-UiQDHFzZfoUu8sWm5LegFuOomHFv5y_EhSUj6ozVp-GabXWnbkZI/s640/Stanton%20Hall%20Red%20drapes.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCrYYdkC42PFGeD2tFhNOjymeYCykqlzZqs1NPonXwp-KGkn5UtWMfb0vFlQOivQtFgEtUZg_PJGo8pUU2SyhGvW9oYLZP_S6IUJCjETqzBfNcYekwkkdt_SmmVN6GY25p6zDIa8Y-UiQDHFzZfoUu8sWm5LegFuOomHFv5y_EhSUj6ozVp-GabXWnbkZI/w640-h480/Stanton%20Hall%20Red%20drapes.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />"We had a lot of people who were very generous," Mrs. Jenkins said. Some people gave money; some gave their own furniture and other decorative objects. When we had to make a repair, we were always limping around asking for money for Stanton Hall."<div><br /></div><div>It was this devotion to Natchez that gave birth to the Pilgrimage. It was 1930 and the boll weevil had decimated the cotton crop, which was during the Great Depression, which was on the heels of World War I, which was on the heels of Reconstruction, which was on the heels of the Civil War.</div><div><br /></div><div>Even though Natchez had suffered through the same hardships as the rest of the world, so recently removed from wealth beyond imagining, it remained steadfast, and life -- though harder -- carried on with its card clubs, sewing circles, garden clubs, cocktail parties (Bathtub gin until prohibition ended), book clubs and get togethers.</div><div><br /></div><div>Legend has it that in 1931, The Natchez Garden Club (as it was then called), hosted a state garden club convention in Natchez to highlight what was left of the formal gardens at their estates. It's commonly told that there was an unexpected freeze; thus, the garden tours moved inside, where the visitors were stunned at the beauties they beheld.</div><div><br /></div><div>In an interview by Elliott Trimble (I believe), Katherine Miller stated that there was no freeze. According to her, they had been planning to open the houses for several years, and the newspapers that day showed the weather as fair and clear.</div><div><br /></div><div>But the gardens were, indeed, neglected, so the house tours became the main attraction.</div><div><br /></div><div>It's easy for us to think The Pilgrimage was simply a local effort; however, if you learn what they did to bring it about, you realize how brilliant and brave these women were.</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgma9ph3Dn0uzA2ZOZH1mu_06Lt0G5Hbi-BMvW7PPbhWUvlNvEj3UE-nM_-YNNnmwSur0jRZfzFegyg0CWpRaR2Zzig_rMUjGArpD3OXu7UbAKDPqIhiDGmJSIsa8RB_F5W-q1CHpr_hevMupALMAj8-SLXF4J0-8vpl-aL6zNnLiIgI1AgfggJDgTUjJOs/s1489/Women%20of%20the%20PGC.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1113" data-original-width="1489" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgma9ph3Dn0uzA2ZOZH1mu_06Lt0G5Hbi-BMvW7PPbhWUvlNvEj3UE-nM_-YNNnmwSur0jRZfzFegyg0CWpRaR2Zzig_rMUjGArpD3OXu7UbAKDPqIhiDGmJSIsa8RB_F5W-q1CHpr_hevMupALMAj8-SLXF4J0-8vpl-aL6zNnLiIgI1AgfggJDgTUjJOs/w640-h478/Women%20of%20the%20PGC.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /> Katherine Miller couldn't have children and was in the hospital recovering from a difficult surgery when the nurses told her that all she talked about during her delirium was Azaleas and Camellias and gardens. With no children, it was she who was chosen to do the monster task of getting the word out. And it WAS a monster task.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4UhlETTmAYCL1iYntQ1Iv0MDZmfk-WWQxTwGT5AsM0DG5iUIXHP-m3dO_DIiAEBGBsd1oz8ZW3rdAA5O-PU9Ja7DYGZc4nM9wuF82endqGXK9RxI9GyCko8x-U9ZlxZG_YBQZxZgSrt_JndEXtpSaNrYfjVhWsh0GbAzW5BGwf66gIlQbz9m_Eiy4-XhI/s1679/Katherine's%20portrait.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1679" data-original-width="1162" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4UhlETTmAYCL1iYntQ1Iv0MDZmfk-WWQxTwGT5AsM0DG5iUIXHP-m3dO_DIiAEBGBsd1oz8ZW3rdAA5O-PU9Ja7DYGZc4nM9wuF82endqGXK9RxI9GyCko8x-U9ZlxZG_YBQZxZgSrt_JndEXtpSaNrYfjVhWsh0GbAzW5BGwf66gIlQbz9m_Eiy4-XhI/w442-h640/Katherine's%20portrait.jpg" width="442" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>A portrait of Katherine Miller, painted by M.Ciani, an Italian painter who became a portraitist for Presidents and Royals. It is also interesting to note that Katherine was the great granddaughter of Captain Thomas Rose.</i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi0Ao36BkKkR8j_Q0ZqBzNArqnvqCttmy43OptQUvoZHVY8bnhJsUnKBRixdVXRftsyfSE09PMZGGxuAeg_Ap69l3soPRaknYBCKbIlrD5yD613j0QgMAznWW2G7F7iUtNyVyw7dTRu_vX3oMMutHc144Fo4oDjEKXpHJuQszhRl5c3vZzGHyfNexTly9x/s2861/Artist%20who%20painted%20Katherine.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2861" data-original-width="1403" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi0Ao36BkKkR8j_Q0ZqBzNArqnvqCttmy43OptQUvoZHVY8bnhJsUnKBRixdVXRftsyfSE09PMZGGxuAeg_Ap69l3soPRaknYBCKbIlrD5yD613j0QgMAznWW2G7F7iUtNyVyw7dTRu_vX3oMMutHc144Fo4oDjEKXpHJuQszhRl5c3vZzGHyfNexTly9x/w314-h640/Artist%20who%20painted%20Katherine.jpg" width="314" /></a></div><br /><i>Portraitist M. Ciani.</i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>This painting was, unfortunately destroyed in the recent fire at Katherine's home, Hope Farm.</i></span></div><br /><div><br /></div><div>This was the early 1930s when women stayed home and raised families. But Katherine went to radio stations not only here in Natchez, but all over the country and talked about Natchez and the treasures it held. She spoke to garden clubs (including the National Garden Club), Kiwanis, Rotary, Moose Lodge...anyone who would listen. She traveled by herself on trains to places as far reaching as New York and California, alone. We're used to women traveling alone today, but in the 1930s it was unheard of.</div><div><br /></div><div>She hired a photographer to take photographic glass slides of all the antebellum homes in town, and took what was called a Magic Lantern, which worked like a slide projector except it was lit from behind by a candle. The slides and lantern are now safely ensconced at the Mississippi Archives in Jackson, MS.</div><div><br /></div><div>She convinced train companies to offer special discount rates to tourists, who would otherwise be unable to afford the trip.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib0MSn-f58L5V918HFjK6dLSB53OYP05sKM48gwzKOBu10nhAe29G6SAOilR5a4vmdum7rBVqlQgxecYfaY9ta8FTWemEs4xGdCGgCi8SQ4OqXVzel9V2AJz7xEXi40wFRHb0AtGfCvKsQ3CQdwXqR0yylYxsLyGhd8qiQyU4RX5Q-ZsUHnN8u_A1Fotn0/s2268/Katherine%20Miller%20mirror.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2268" data-original-width="1793" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib0MSn-f58L5V918HFjK6dLSB53OYP05sKM48gwzKOBu10nhAe29G6SAOilR5a4vmdum7rBVqlQgxecYfaY9ta8FTWemEs4xGdCGgCi8SQ4OqXVzel9V2AJz7xEXi40wFRHb0AtGfCvKsQ3CQdwXqR0yylYxsLyGhd8qiQyU4RX5Q-ZsUHnN8u_A1Fotn0/w506-h640/Katherine%20Miller%20mirror.jpg" width="506" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>The ladies helped the City when it was recruiting industry by hosting visiting executives. I do know that at one point, Katherine went to the head of International Paper Company to ask them to stop production during the month of pilgrimage because of the smell, which is similar to boiling broccoli. Needless to say, her request went unheeded.</div><div><br /></div><div>She placed ads in newspapers all over the country, becoming a master at marketing.</div><div><br /></div><div>Meanwhile, Natchez women were cleaning their houses and perfecting their gardens, and what splendid gardens they were.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8v0oxVHpkz5Py0lW8DCTl2LaFAG_JCS_r_5BiFfYhvkCCsjIYeSLDSV5TLiMTHLgjmtL0q8ITlsj5ono0fd-5avdVYfzMjRLJj7eICz0xaXJSspFMnTFY3fXyjEqmVqC5Ee6ZHmWp8ikUUPbsx6ukq0rSSZHWiMOXM7YQhiITHdn3kRaVua5gmAJ4p3Pn/s1778/Flowers%20at%20Hope%20Farm.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1708" data-original-width="1778" height="614" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8v0oxVHpkz5Py0lW8DCTl2LaFAG_JCS_r_5BiFfYhvkCCsjIYeSLDSV5TLiMTHLgjmtL0q8ITlsj5ono0fd-5avdVYfzMjRLJj7eICz0xaXJSspFMnTFY3fXyjEqmVqC5Ee6ZHmWp8ikUUPbsx6ukq0rSSZHWiMOXM7YQhiITHdn3kRaVua5gmAJ4p3Pn/w640-h614/Flowers%20at%20Hope%20Farm.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> The gardens behind Mrs. Miller's house, Hope Farm.</i></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div>Those ladies were fierce and bossy and resplendent in their Grandmother's hoopskirts, and knew how to work hard and to play hard.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEw1dKG46bnmdRsQmlhIB3IfNsd4nggPYaMXV8vr4aCtRwss5bC-qg0Qi435zcKzNM6MYDZGaxeCG1drklqIPt2fFSrIOvYMKbNyNX_fYFFqyhXSB_sQc5ZrciAEcaPLSA-LQdT2n6pd1lXYb9CFRLuy2YyWfdkeek-CNqkSEx3z-CQpTYgY1_T9nPMsL8/s3193/Conga%20line.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2406" data-original-width="3193" height="482" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEw1dKG46bnmdRsQmlhIB3IfNsd4nggPYaMXV8vr4aCtRwss5bC-qg0Qi435zcKzNM6MYDZGaxeCG1drklqIPt2fFSrIOvYMKbNyNX_fYFFqyhXSB_sQc5ZrciAEcaPLSA-LQdT2n6pd1lXYb9CFRLuy2YyWfdkeek-CNqkSEx3z-CQpTYgY1_T9nPMsL8/w640-h482/Conga%20line.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt5kMFzD2kFOdx5YO58yH3Vumquv9luF4WN0ojMMgaTqR6rwfJ4IlZu0STgLWhzhR4I_-jEIP5LjyJCQpMNGfmqizmUDr9LLcSzl5iMXupl2rpgfjKqU_mBKxiJNsqRxxDUXj1oAacmY_BxzBUYGlTB5mebieQnBQnfrfBiOI65lQJi2OdC3QUOMqOOPrs/s2384/The%20ladies%20relax.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2384" data-original-width="2257" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt5kMFzD2kFOdx5YO58yH3Vumquv9luF4WN0ojMMgaTqR6rwfJ4IlZu0STgLWhzhR4I_-jEIP5LjyJCQpMNGfmqizmUDr9LLcSzl5iMXupl2rpgfjKqU_mBKxiJNsqRxxDUXj1oAacmY_BxzBUYGlTB5mebieQnBQnfrfBiOI65lQJi2OdC3QUOMqOOPrs/w606-h640/The%20ladies%20relax.jpg" width="606" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7txE30vkpUfuyDWFyMY3e2oX_l3at2nQGJqDwSb5-f-V8kgjfGOo4LZuUyQgQbdqaSehNgqs1YL6rhOVs7NdJNTF0CW5vptVgkxvtQuvOfypmOV-D9nad3Dvb_0d21zh7air0veRre_2I64eJNor-SSJZGbR33CYOhPRlEZ1qgdH9VlOBR-iIUM9dXDIA/s2532/Fun%20times.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2532" data-original-width="2313" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7txE30vkpUfuyDWFyMY3e2oX_l3at2nQGJqDwSb5-f-V8kgjfGOo4LZuUyQgQbdqaSehNgqs1YL6rhOVs7NdJNTF0CW5vptVgkxvtQuvOfypmOV-D9nad3Dvb_0d21zh7air0veRre_2I64eJNor-SSJZGbR33CYOhPRlEZ1qgdH9VlOBR-iIUM9dXDIA/w584-h640/Fun%20times.jpg" width="584" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div>One funny story about cleaning homes was that of Mrs. Alma Kellog at The Elms. Every spring before opening her house, she waltzed about the house spraying the air with Lemon Pledge. Tourists would arrive and exclaim, "You can sure tell this house has been cleaned from top to bottom. Just smell that lemon."</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUTSVP_5IytpFLbHV_2zqThdjljp0VtKW3W8dF5HTHUttSrtN61yAqsYjVruwVdRHIHgN1Pb_psPmeOnWRrx8SKrXVYaL9tJRadplQK_zu5ndpKiCDiJwsP06zd-lBgGT_JllgBcENpzcXgDrRN-tGdtiaYXQ0mogw3Sqy7O4E7xIWw6qxwN_A7rNWfWO1/s2754/Screenshot%202023-11-06%20at%202.27.46%E2%80%AFPM.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1412" data-original-width="2754" height="328" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUTSVP_5IytpFLbHV_2zqThdjljp0VtKW3W8dF5HTHUttSrtN61yAqsYjVruwVdRHIHgN1Pb_psPmeOnWRrx8SKrXVYaL9tJRadplQK_zu5ndpKiCDiJwsP06zd-lBgGT_JllgBcENpzcXgDrRN-tGdtiaYXQ0mogw3Sqy7O4E7xIWw6qxwN_A7rNWfWO1/w640-h328/Screenshot%202023-11-06%20at%202.27.46%E2%80%AFPM.png" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Mrs. Ruth Audley Beltzhoover of the home "Green Leaves," and Mrs. Alma Kellogg of "The Elms."</i></span><div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><br /></i></span><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu1TPQl4AzfvylaNZke0Gb8H5eGrAwSopLJWj08cKhjTDy4hNgj2NoeD5xM4z0wBaqXpL56bfuDD0pLxKPoph7QZhb3vG4wxk88NfykKgbPKw-ti5Ftw1qccc87t6z-GsYivTQZ0frAk1rqE4eNrDrPcsXPhbfUoZo9-k6ELnyguxWS-cmTAwu1lHl8bjY/s432/download.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="259" data-original-width="432" height="384" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu1TPQl4AzfvylaNZke0Gb8H5eGrAwSopLJWj08cKhjTDy4hNgj2NoeD5xM4z0wBaqXpL56bfuDD0pLxKPoph7QZhb3vG4wxk88NfykKgbPKw-ti5Ftw1qccc87t6z-GsYivTQZ0frAk1rqE4eNrDrPcsXPhbfUoZo9-k6ELnyguxWS-cmTAwu1lHl8bjY/w640-h384/download.jpg" width="640" /></a></div> <span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>The Elms, photographer unknown</i></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div>The first Pilgrimage was a parade of Antebellum ladies and scenes downtown. Once the homes were opened there was no stopping them. It was more successful than they could have imagined. These women saved Natchez from ruin during the hard years of the Depression and World War II, and tourism remains the number-one industry in Natchez today.</div><div><br /></div><div>During World War II, Stanton Hall hosted dances for the troops stationed nearby, which also raised money for Stanton Hall.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHWqcb8TUsYBqt0vSBHdkkE3fVMWYUtAvzCdQMfyGO_Bc4tK4bq3lMEcLn5MOVVf5_sEGyIOPGMuFnREkAhg37_7-lVZd4McgYpUB9tUDkbIo1_7ceBYNEXQ2myKuYGQgDzVS6LefbspbqYZbPOtFv-Hki7FAyUvs4o4XvjhFLeFmGKwcnO6qeQbLsDHde/s2874/Stanton%20Hall,%20Camp%20Van%20Dorn002.tif" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2285" data-original-width="2874" height="505" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHWqcb8TUsYBqt0vSBHdkkE3fVMWYUtAvzCdQMfyGO_Bc4tK4bq3lMEcLn5MOVVf5_sEGyIOPGMuFnREkAhg37_7-lVZd4McgYpUB9tUDkbIo1_7ceBYNEXQ2myKuYGQgDzVS6LefbspbqYZbPOtFv-Hki7FAyUvs4o4XvjhFLeFmGKwcnO6qeQbLsDHde/w636-h505/Stanton%20Hall,%20Camp%20Van%20Dorn002.tif" width="636" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>This was the nascence of cultural tourism in this country. Stanton Hall hosted overnight guests, as did Katherine Miller, who hosted the Attorney General and Ladybird Johnson during the 1970s. <div><br /></div><div>"We did do B&B for a short time at Stanton Hall in the 40s," said Mrs. Jenkins, "...but it proved to be too much trouble. People smoked back then and one man hung his clothes on one of the priceless gasoliers in the back bedroom, causing it to fall out of the ceiling and crash. The bathrooms weren't ideal either."</div><div><br /></div><div>Because it was a club, they installed a swimming pool for members and their families. I learned to swim in that pool and had a huge crush on the teenaged lifeguard who taught me how to swim.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtoWSLsaEJSdWuyEi15ZMIGZ30U609535H4hziTLC4eNbkQjYfyyjv0vYIfLQtkj2t2-ZOLLxNmYSdjl3jwxkK5X4iZVB8q8V1Z_D2tx4FEqIR3ol6OcFXucwbDYo1vMkIBQ374ECzfbLEihggXz744PW810X2Z5hR57icwttfdUhaJ7eyYT0zXMFpfreL/s1500/High%20St.%20401,%20Stanton%20Hall%20pool,%20Peggy%20%20Magee,%20Jane%20Feltus,%20Ethel%20Green%20and%20Dean%20Jones,%201946%20(newly%20opened).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="964" data-original-width="1500" height="412" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtoWSLsaEJSdWuyEi15ZMIGZ30U609535H4hziTLC4eNbkQjYfyyjv0vYIfLQtkj2t2-ZOLLxNmYSdjl3jwxkK5X4iZVB8q8V1Z_D2tx4FEqIR3ol6OcFXucwbDYo1vMkIBQ374ECzfbLEihggXz744PW810X2Z5hR57icwttfdUhaJ7eyYT0zXMFpfreL/w640-h412/High%20St.%20401,%20Stanton%20Hall%20pool,%20Peggy%20%20Magee,%20Jane%20Feltus,%20Ethel%20Green%20and%20Dean%20Jones,%201946%20(newly%20opened).jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6_KPrrFJOlWZsGAf0T78vzg5Mdxc-a2cypuWA05xIIOA_h4oGypNOpwYqc1TBYnlzMQ0xukPjZSa0-sgg8VuDPGUAY04NYTWtXEr65xcSgGSvGH3slsFPucJ-svFv1oGhxlN86f5mcz_MkUGdFWnUliX4rpGDi4JNwEVrobXKgkbylKeioC6pedlfPpy7/s1127/High%20St.%20401,%20Stanton%20Hall%20pool,%20Pokey%20Jones%20on%20far%20right%20top.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1127" data-original-width="916" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6_KPrrFJOlWZsGAf0T78vzg5Mdxc-a2cypuWA05xIIOA_h4oGypNOpwYqc1TBYnlzMQ0xukPjZSa0-sgg8VuDPGUAY04NYTWtXEr65xcSgGSvGH3slsFPucJ-svFv1oGhxlN86f5mcz_MkUGdFWnUliX4rpGDi4JNwEVrobXKgkbylKeioC6pedlfPpy7/w520-h640/High%20St.%20401,%20Stanton%20Hall%20pool,%20Pokey%20Jones%20on%20far%20right%20top.jpg" width="520" /></a></div><br /><div><br /><div><br /></div><div>The women of Natchez hosted tea parties at their homes, particularly at "Green Leaves" on the back patio.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBdOpHIGkhEYig9_ti3dW5_hGCkDFp2hWWw5xya5JZidaHF74bp5d-UctQ6iDuZQl8G7d3wDBXUk4VxhV_pte9aL796zS8Kx2yq5Omf-aRo0ocQfkXTmPitlvwlaVBacaD8nhmdI85HyQuT-8b9bamKtB-LU9mGQ1y_uSzqWyX813DgQ35UaoLv21x-E51/s1200/green-leaves-back-courtyard.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1200" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBdOpHIGkhEYig9_ti3dW5_hGCkDFp2hWWw5xya5JZidaHF74bp5d-UctQ6iDuZQl8G7d3wDBXUk4VxhV_pte9aL796zS8Kx2yq5Omf-aRo0ocQfkXTmPitlvwlaVBacaD8nhmdI85HyQuT-8b9bamKtB-LU9mGQ1y_uSzqWyX813DgQ35UaoLv21x-E51/w640-h480/green-leaves-back-courtyard.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Rear Entrance at Green Leaves where tourists were treated to tea parties on the patio.</i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><br /></i></span></div><br /><div>After tours, each guest was presented with a rare Camelia Japonica, which delighted them no end.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpEf-VbKmDCGyv8wGxCX8KPiDuKJF01CrzxS4soh-3zuSpa6a9Zn38dCnCKYdeTkosMotCWWkcrrmt02K1BFF2Xy7gII4xvVOlbg0RNWhNZ3aP2w9JIm3s8O1Cce188YGDyo_lBvr5LrtRQRwmPj4L5qzNBkVTIA_1J3d4Dt-tM7PPaMZROTq3j0f4A_Gr/s1604/IMG_20231102_0001.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1604" data-original-width="1012" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpEf-VbKmDCGyv8wGxCX8KPiDuKJF01CrzxS4soh-3zuSpa6a9Zn38dCnCKYdeTkosMotCWWkcrrmt02K1BFF2Xy7gII4xvVOlbg0RNWhNZ3aP2w9JIm3s8O1Cce188YGDyo_lBvr5LrtRQRwmPj4L5qzNBkVTIA_1J3d4Dt-tM7PPaMZROTq3j0f4A_Gr/w404-h640/IMG_20231102_0001.jpg" width="404" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div><br /><div>The tourists who visited wore their best clothes, as though they were attending church, but this was more fun. Donning the latest fashions in hats, suits and gloves, they lined up to take a peek at how the other side used to live.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh23z-jBG1zFYt_pfrURf8-5GjQ68QCMzgZeHhBT7juq5Cdk3sODGwtC9OqmH_c0cfSfzVgT3wpRJQ3DNu1CwO1tRFeAg1OdTrXTsMSjd23805ya6MKBHednY4X4s6UJRbsHopo3mhB4Js8yDz6hNlYebuVydimgImcM0E6H-0LZHrMf7dDUq1kf9Yi52SC/s1925/Katherine%20greeting%20Douglas%20MacArthur.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1883" data-original-width="1925" height="606" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh23z-jBG1zFYt_pfrURf8-5GjQ68QCMzgZeHhBT7juq5Cdk3sODGwtC9OqmH_c0cfSfzVgT3wpRJQ3DNu1CwO1tRFeAg1OdTrXTsMSjd23805ya6MKBHednY4X4s6UJRbsHopo3mhB4Js8yDz6hNlYebuVydimgImcM0E6H-0LZHrMf7dDUq1kf9Yi52SC/w640-h606/Katherine%20greeting%20Douglas%20MacArthur.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMGMjs9WwXGc0vcEhBrVhQ7O7NQIBjjMf6YZFqDlnXme2JEnKej3wlkZnzqZ-Vryym2TpjA3jCcm7coNCqEhea-xIhVvwKAHrKrKwtahKspPwe9WQneYxSuNOG71dqb1FZPxfAapJ56j5RqMUp7T04F-hCzcAxljbLdSCtHvbINE0SLraXA-Na79309MDo/s2993/Touristing%20at%20Hope%20Farm.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2402" data-original-width="2993" height="514" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMGMjs9WwXGc0vcEhBrVhQ7O7NQIBjjMf6YZFqDlnXme2JEnKej3wlkZnzqZ-Vryym2TpjA3jCcm7coNCqEhea-xIhVvwKAHrKrKwtahKspPwe9WQneYxSuNOG71dqb1FZPxfAapJ56j5RqMUp7T04F-hCzcAxljbLdSCtHvbINE0SLraXA-Na79309MDo/w640-h514/Touristing%20at%20Hope%20Farm.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> Katherine Miller receiving tourists at Hope Farm. Notice the cigarette she's holding.</i></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><br /></i></span></div>Before long, the ladies realized they needed to provide some nighttime entertainment for the tourists. Thus, the Confederate Ball Tableaux was born. It was also known as the Confederate pageant. In a blog post I wrote about 17 years ago, I explained:</div><div><br /></div><div>"For over sixty years, [Katherine] ruled Natchez society, engendering fear, admiration, adoration and loathing in equal measure. Under her direction, grown men were persuaded to dress up like Southern planters and dance The Soirée for strangers. They even allowed their wives to smear rouge and lipstick on their sons, and dress them in lace and knickers and ballet shoes to dance around a Maypole with little girls in hoopskirts.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Sure, for the rest of the year, they wore camouflage, slapped each other on the back, broke wind, hunted wild game, played and talked football and discussed the price of oil.</div><div><br /></div><div>"But March belonged to the women. No disgrace was too demeaning to keep them from following the orders of the matriarchs of Natchez.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkkyZniLsxjJERWhYcpPMNoKnIDlANfIxvSkxgYExGjFqB0Mas8yrBOAkOVDGZ6r8vVheVdz_D71yUEMMIX5OUugg5pJD0NLZav2ObzQAkJsl7-5Fla-fY3o4zDNW3gsEwlkl8-m9ddG3k_xIdoD7YQUPFrUEvtMeWLibSnacosjAtzlnddjQEoP0KiZGw/s2953/Tableaux%201952%20The%20Polka.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2430" data-original-width="2953" height="526" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkkyZniLsxjJERWhYcpPMNoKnIDlANfIxvSkxgYExGjFqB0Mas8yrBOAkOVDGZ6r8vVheVdz_D71yUEMMIX5OUugg5pJD0NLZav2ObzQAkJsl7-5Fla-fY3o4zDNW3gsEwlkl8-m9ddG3k_xIdoD7YQUPFrUEvtMeWLibSnacosjAtzlnddjQEoP0KiZGw/w640-h526/Tableaux%201952%20The%20Polka.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div><br /></div><div>The reason it was called The Tableaux, which is plural for Tableau. From Wikipedia: A tableau is a French word that means a picture, painting, or representation. It can also refer to a vivid or graphic description of a scene or a striking or artistic grouping of persons or objects. Sometimes, tableeau is used to describe a depiction of a scene on a stage by silent and motionless, costumed participants. The word comes from Old French "table," meaning "slab," or "writing tablet."</div><div><br /></div><div>It was a simpler time back then, and the people of the day often performed tableaux for Mardis Gras and other celebrations, so it stood to reason that this was how they would entertain the tourists at night.</div><div><br /></div><div>All the locals took part in it, rehearsing over and over for months before March. Each stationary tableau ended with the participants descending from the stage and walking through the front double doors of the auditorium (a Pageant), so people could get a good look at the talent and skills of the women who designed the costumes, which were breathtaking and mostly taken from old copies of Godey's Lady's Book, which was a women's magazine published from 1830 to 1878.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTFxP1vgFp99WJFPsUMafINiiR9Au41fsVViy7U8ILLaIw1tfgeiMnnAO8daML_s1ms0qioNqNs-5Z83KwVdmcUVvzmXAgm9KBMbu2z1Re2vpLaApWdEqzOnrgMJv6dgu5Y1FeRdpELfjv7Gl0LHriJiTclvzd4MotsmQmXlrXA5Q5T-4nUorc_-JKwTSJ/s398/OIP.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="284" data-original-width="398" height="456" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTFxP1vgFp99WJFPsUMafINiiR9Au41fsVViy7U8ILLaIw1tfgeiMnnAO8daML_s1ms0qioNqNs-5Z83KwVdmcUVvzmXAgm9KBMbu2z1Re2vpLaApWdEqzOnrgMJv6dgu5Y1FeRdpELfjv7Gl0LHriJiTclvzd4MotsmQmXlrXA5Q5T-4nUorc_-JKwTSJ/w640-h456/OIP.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqJ-wh74_HNqEsiqPLC5PW6jrPBWWAj7s4iVG4GytKf4jSsYGAlm21P9x1kMKLN4S9FvPnv_Wha_pOag7NTvX1Ag5hbVsHz6PTolVy96cZNNMrhd1QPQF7PxJlRXhQEZZZkYhULswQKjhoTAb-S_KvLrNY1EWhyphenhyphenq-0mWfOTAUtidd4hFT5qgN1PlVbEiJr/s652/OIP-1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="652" data-original-width="382" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqJ-wh74_HNqEsiqPLC5PW6jrPBWWAj7s4iVG4GytKf4jSsYGAlm21P9x1kMKLN4S9FvPnv_Wha_pOag7NTvX1Ag5hbVsHz6PTolVy96cZNNMrhd1QPQF7PxJlRXhQEZZZkYhULswQKjhoTAb-S_KvLrNY1EWhyphenhyphenq-0mWfOTAUtidd4hFT5qgN1PlVbEiJr/w374-h640/OIP-1.jpg" width="374" /></a></div><br /><div><br /><div>There were two ballets, which later gave way to more. The most popular ballet was one choreographed and created by local dance teacher Martha Hootsell. Mrs. Hootsell's most outstanding dancer was chosen each year to play the part of artist John James Audubon, who lived in Natchez for a short while and taught dance while here. Our own Courtney Stacy Taylor danced Audubon one year and did it justice.</div><div><br /></div><div>The different scenes and tableaux were accompanied by a small, live orchestra, playing piano, cello, violins, etc. It was a magical time.</div><div><br /></div><div>The program ended with the raising of the American flag and the entire audience as well as players stood to sing the Star-Spangled banner.</div><div><br /></div><div>All of this was done out of love of family, of friends, neighbors, country, history (and, admittedly, money). These ladies really left a legacy that needs to be continued. As one member said to me, "It is up to us now to take up the mantle of these amazing women and continue to make Natchez one of the most unusual and beautiful small towns in the now United States.</div><div><br /></div><div>They women went all out, making backdrops and creating azaleas out of crepe paper and hanging moss and Magnolia leaves. I could speak more about all of this, but I know you're hungry and ready to eat the fine lunch that our chef Wayne Bryant has prepared for us.</div><div><br /></div><div>The following is an array of photographs from the Tableaux.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqw8ZqPLraQyABjhIGErUez51DDjm-v8_zjmw5TwaN5Kz6kcVgdzvvcA0AArYOZw0C067UBV6ieXhe6ZRW91EGl8XBeWXFCWkw1hDi7gP2SVTVcGf_KVE1riSxaKKrUMAsQE8r3zfYzCWD0Z8RZvfmhyVoR48b6kcAH90iaFZuJzMqCPTVLJnCSskfE2bm/s3007/Tableaux%201%201947.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2433" data-original-width="3007" height="518" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqw8ZqPLraQyABjhIGErUez51DDjm-v8_zjmw5TwaN5Kz6kcVgdzvvcA0AArYOZw0C067UBV6ieXhe6ZRW91EGl8XBeWXFCWkw1hDi7gP2SVTVcGf_KVE1riSxaKKrUMAsQE8r3zfYzCWD0Z8RZvfmhyVoR48b6kcAH90iaFZuJzMqCPTVLJnCSskfE2bm/w640-h518/Tableaux%201%201947.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6Fnp23HuwqNC-narTdwDpAPYBkYfm5bvtY7b1KsBwyzTo24AhA1SWfqR67ZUdjU3cKVmGq1CERhvQG5BUVKmrjsp6U9pmCLlLydn-nKFDiPPVzQXG9ZbxFEFP76a5Qt8fYO8v0WJT0-uB33GS-4LqsjZLwRLD73ZTKmwvvPwWGSsnCNaB2bfQzBImBar3/s2987/Tableaux%201950%20Howard%20Pritchartt%20and%20Harriet%20Geisenberger.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2446" data-original-width="2987" height="524" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6Fnp23HuwqNC-narTdwDpAPYBkYfm5bvtY7b1KsBwyzTo24AhA1SWfqR67ZUdjU3cKVmGq1CERhvQG5BUVKmrjsp6U9pmCLlLydn-nKFDiPPVzQXG9ZbxFEFP76a5Qt8fYO8v0WJT0-uB33GS-4LqsjZLwRLD73ZTKmwvvPwWGSsnCNaB2bfQzBImBar3/w640-h524/Tableaux%201950%20Howard%20Pritchartt%20and%20Harriet%20Geisenberger.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9fsj3oMu2Huzl_cB8IN_XaSGxeRLPKDqkyLTKtq7j8kN2DejAIVbOfgQUDj-YKh9Z8MLlepJnOU6vq2lDOmJJXBO_5k55t5Ety3QQabUzaJFOx7l8hDcKJFDUdNdrsyLH_Td3qHeRg9ZrgXwohObp3sI7ieOSPq7kRhtlulATJboDhbbZ9IIzyJhiPh04/s2846/Tableaux%201952%20Court%20SisStowers%20and%20Herb%20Mead,%20Jr..jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2286" data-original-width="2846" height="514" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9fsj3oMu2Huzl_cB8IN_XaSGxeRLPKDqkyLTKtq7j8kN2DejAIVbOfgQUDj-YKh9Z8MLlepJnOU6vq2lDOmJJXBO_5k55t5Ety3QQabUzaJFOx7l8hDcKJFDUdNdrsyLH_Td3qHeRg9ZrgXwohObp3sI7ieOSPq7kRhtlulATJboDhbbZ9IIzyJhiPh04/w640-h514/Tableaux%201952%20Court%20SisStowers%20and%20Herb%20Mead,%20Jr..jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg19RG1Fo4KRQJASvbx7t_NaI9GZRKSMAde7LrhMErfrIsw06INnQMFzgOggKMQG6PWbtaYARvkS48Ug1u2h5iP1-A40hHwBb9Pl6ZO-pDda46MMF98mKhse_c64BRTXBywe79feS-4uV17MlKosGoKzHSO26av_jJyRNtK6ym6YLiObcBZ4NmSzv3esjrW/s2904/Tableaux%201955%20Caroline%20Benoist%20and%20James%20Carroll%20Meng.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2374" data-original-width="2904" height="524" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg19RG1Fo4KRQJASvbx7t_NaI9GZRKSMAde7LrhMErfrIsw06INnQMFzgOggKMQG6PWbtaYARvkS48Ug1u2h5iP1-A40hHwBb9Pl6ZO-pDda46MMF98mKhse_c64BRTXBywe79feS-4uV17MlKosGoKzHSO26av_jJyRNtK6ym6YLiObcBZ4NmSzv3esjrW/w640-h524/Tableaux%201955%20Caroline%20Benoist%20and%20James%20Carroll%20Meng.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF_c61Bk4DRPmks_VIPJ0nWbhRArsnRXYDg6uSyddWfAthdEWGs8r2gIN67fR-e_ipLi6jmYPSoP06oJWNr_GgVRy63wBHKhZQcWwxicQn76k-rj-w1Y01zn69qA6zrJfXE-ptm2DCFs0-D-_XexkBk53WIxxoWvys1xwyPux1xNvHFHsax_cJdNkmDJzS/s2978/Tableaux%20presidents.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2414" data-original-width="2978" height="518" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF_c61Bk4DRPmks_VIPJ0nWbhRArsnRXYDg6uSyddWfAthdEWGs8r2gIN67fR-e_ipLi6jmYPSoP06oJWNr_GgVRy63wBHKhZQcWwxicQn76k-rj-w1Y01zn69qA6zrJfXE-ptm2DCFs0-D-_XexkBk53WIxxoWvys1xwyPux1xNvHFHsax_cJdNkmDJzS/w640-h518/Tableaux%20presidents.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuR-A_HdG7V0nK9hfvnx_msQOk49F79EsqGEwpIOaWILPxtZMly5RTBq2_GgC492AGBwYMRzf96kjqarD9LydjqJOE6-g-dXohk6qXg5-MlT1PwiAC2mDqWb0RjVa_nTW6RaZY34918kj-59jQEtj8Q_czB5MJJPqZAmsop2ku8l8vjcuIAhVjXFhe590z/s3009/Tableaux%20The%20Hunt.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2324" data-original-width="3009" height="494" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuR-A_HdG7V0nK9hfvnx_msQOk49F79EsqGEwpIOaWILPxtZMly5RTBq2_GgC492AGBwYMRzf96kjqarD9LydjqJOE6-g-dXohk6qXg5-MlT1PwiAC2mDqWb0RjVa_nTW6RaZY34918kj-59jQEtj8Q_czB5MJJPqZAmsop2ku8l8vjcuIAhVjXFhe590z/w640-h494/Tableaux%20The%20Hunt.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>This tableau is called The Hunt, and I have one or two funny stories to tell about it. (See below)</i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><br /></i></span></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghjWKIv6OTV3fmNkuQHGXJ25D1n6LiQVwW-k8amIOxBbIJWBP8wrDS6ClJZxJbKL7iS3gXCY_fc7c1LNaG3JFVNXAL2gt3q2hFg65s8-n_FzxZ0B1q8RiAqYuCtWU_Lmi6HKBBPcy9UyGutag-zZeo74pvWSG9IBxr4HRdYZfYcmCuiob9l31o241Udhn4/s2974/Tableaux%20The%20Polka.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2343" data-original-width="2974" height="504" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghjWKIv6OTV3fmNkuQHGXJ25D1n6LiQVwW-k8amIOxBbIJWBP8wrDS6ClJZxJbKL7iS3gXCY_fc7c1LNaG3JFVNXAL2gt3q2hFg65s8-n_FzxZ0B1q8RiAqYuCtWU_Lmi6HKBBPcy9UyGutag-zZeo74pvWSG9IBxr4HRdYZfYcmCuiob9l31o241Udhn4/w640-h504/Tableaux%20The%20Polka.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikJtRtCNz0UpAhv2GBjdILDY5hZhh-TOb5rJO37h8QHHeELt7n1OdWliciOMif1BCyOgfJuisJ2NylY7S4gK4ZoXonPsNdyWJ4W0USIehs16Whgdcp5LdKhl6sGGQ3MBR4xkoQaK431jkGLmo5-ycssqatAu-3YL8oAOQldCABd_PaekOL6EXnlir50SNo/s2858/Tableauxx%20placard%20beareers.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2166" data-original-width="2858" height="486" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikJtRtCNz0UpAhv2GBjdILDY5hZhh-TOb5rJO37h8QHHeELt7n1OdWliciOMif1BCyOgfJuisJ2NylY7S4gK4ZoXonPsNdyWJ4W0USIehs16Whgdcp5LdKhl6sGGQ3MBR4xkoQaK431jkGLmo5-ycssqatAu-3YL8oAOQldCABd_PaekOL6EXnlir50SNo/w640-h486/Tableauxx%20placard%20beareers.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi116zyOuVsWpUWQImYnbfK-dy5HDO6VNaSTwO2mK2qFoiJab1V-Oi1GX1fDo5KuDIRWC8shi-z1oXhsiPxoiy23zv4iH9uWBvQ44uUe_doy87Yh4lWTQ2Plr9YVMs67KtdOwiad8gsGZDkqmfAYG6ui5RQ98YTDy9DYMmQ9Axnyryo-0RvPyxtdbs5F2e/s2967/Tableux%20Royal%20Ballet.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2349" data-original-width="2967" height="506" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi116zyOuVsWpUWQImYnbfK-dy5HDO6VNaSTwO2mK2qFoiJab1V-Oi1GX1fDo5KuDIRWC8shi-z1oXhsiPxoiy23zv4iH9uWBvQ44uUe_doy87Yh4lWTQ2Plr9YVMs67KtdOwiad8gsGZDkqmfAYG6ui5RQ98YTDy9DYMmQ9Axnyryo-0RvPyxtdbs5F2e/w640-h506/Tableux%20Royal%20Ballet.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOPvQGlR3EYb0avCjkBVg23gWE_rT0Lz57UAtlEwAf93zD90pZspUEFDhXA5Cq9GRStqcHB202apQyxToMnMZQVx8KWs2x6SJ7xahnZ5bGhUgtKE51aoZNgsPCYLC6vHgpCRbosmRIoJxUetkbExcivzJIdJNstKdpz59U7kMEzrhzfoTvpCLidkij41U7/s2972/Tableux%20The%20Picnic.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2415" data-original-width="2972" height="520" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOPvQGlR3EYb0avCjkBVg23gWE_rT0Lz57UAtlEwAf93zD90pZspUEFDhXA5Cq9GRStqcHB202apQyxToMnMZQVx8KWs2x6SJ7xahnZ5bGhUgtKE51aoZNgsPCYLC6vHgpCRbosmRIoJxUetkbExcivzJIdJNstKdpz59U7kMEzrhzfoTvpCLidkij41U7/w640-h520/Tableux%20The%20Picnic.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: large;" /><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: large;">My father told me that one of his fondest memories is of his best friend, Johnny Ogden, sneaking into the City Auditorium the afternoon before the pageant with a dead fox he'd found beside the road. Dragging the fox by the tail, Johnny made his way up and down the aisles, over and under the seats of the room, laying down a scent and then slipping back outside.</span><div class="google-auto-placed ap_container" style="background-color: white; clear: both; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: large; height: auto; text-align: center; width: 750px;"><ins class="adsbygoogle adsbygoogle-noablate" data-ad-client="ca-pub-6794794468827873" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-status="unfilled" data-adsbygoogle-status="done" style="background-color: transparent; display: block; height: 0px; margin: auto;"><div aria-label="Advertisement" id="aswift_8_host" style="background-color: transparent; border: none; display: inline-block; height: 0px; margin: 0px; opacity: 0; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 750px;" tabindex="0" title="Advertisement"><iframe allow="attribution-reporting" allowtransparency="true" browsingtopics="true" data-google-container-id="a!9" data-google-query-id="CJGxru6usIIDFcWEywEdwugP-g" data-load-complete="true" frameborder="0" height="0" hspace="0" id="aswift_8" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" name="aswift_8" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" scrolling="no" src="https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-6794794468827873&output=html&h=280&adk=919597420&adf=594747537&pi=t.aa~a.1065036871~i.61~rp.1&w=750&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1699307762&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=3245354336&ad_type=text_image&format=750x280&url=https%3A%2F%2Fshantybellum.blogspot.com%2Fsearch%3Fq%3DHoward%2527s%2BRevenge&ea=0&host=ca-host-pub-1556223355139109&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=188&rw=750&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&uach=WyJtYWNPUyIsIjE0LjAuMCIsIng4NiIsIiIsIjExOS4wLjYwNDUuMTA1IixudWxsLDAsbnVsbCwiNjQiLFtbIkdvb2dsZSBDaHJvbWUiLCIxMTkuMC42MDQ1LjEwNSJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMTkuMC42MDQ1LjEwNSJdLFsiTm90P0FfQnJhbmQiLCIyNC4wLjAuMCJdXSwwXQ..&dt=1699307796438&bpp=1&bdt=903&idt=1&shv=r20231102&mjsv=m202311010101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&prev_fmts=190x600%2C0x0%2C750x280%2C750x280%2C1256x688%2C750x280%2C750x280&prev_slotnames=1864551212&nras=7&correlator=6714928952119&frm=20&pv=1&ga_vid=1227663983.1699307796&ga_sid=1699307796&ga_hid=2058243509&ga_fc=0&u_tz=-360&u_his=15&u_h=900&u_w=1440&u_ah=806&u_aw=1440&u_cd=24&u_sd=2&dmc=8&adx=128&ady=5592&biw=1256&bih=688&scr_x=0&scr_y=2852&eid=44759876%2C44759927%2C31079232%2C31079404%2C31079438%2C44801484%2C44807048%2C44807455%2C44808113%2C31078301%2C44806141%2C31078663%2C31078665%2C31078668%2C31078670&oid=2&psts=AOrYGsntc3_hBIg1Jt6a3yDAWGVOwWvC88UwtD3WqD95SrR-udgB5j5AjGV5LT8Ds6eTHmUcM8mHRTAY7Qi5Tr0B%2CAOrYGskD58o6sEdpY6CiKqotPSCRgOUDIQVdZ_xTabrkiHk8OLRMi2RDWCocol4cdV96TQJaNdUf6fQJDfMmsMQJ%2CAOrYGsnxMh5CpoT2j87qddSnWMshodx0ejgCKHlJ4u2CB-mDFEYi_5tBnArZtv8nCQD1MCEZNK3jpAy86REx24jh&pvsid=737900553618084&tmod=575057703&uas=0&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Fshantybellum.blogspot.com%2F&fc=384&brdim=61%2C25%2C61%2C25%2C1440%2C25%2C1256%2C805%2C1256%2C688&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&td=1&psd=W251bGwsbnVsbCxudWxsLDNd&nt=1&ifi=9&uci=a!9&btvi=6&fsb=1&dtd=3558" style="border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; height: 0px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 750px;" vspace="0" width="750"></iframe></div></ins></div><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: large;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: large;" /><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: large;">They roared with laughter that evening when during the tableau for The Hunt, the beagles and hounds used for the scene broke their leads and climbed across horrified tourists' laps, baying loudly, drooling, trembling, and peeing with excitement, as they tracked the scent of the long-departed fox.</span></div><div><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="color: #222222; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="color: #222222; font-size: medium;">And there was also the occasional dog poo that had to be cleaned up between acts.</span></div><div><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="color: #222222; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="color: #222222; font-size: medium;">So here's to the Pilgrimage Garden Club. For information on tours and trips, please visit natchez.org and natchez.com and visitnatchez.org.</span></div><div><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="color: #222222; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="color: #222222; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /></div></div></div></div>Shantybellumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10717453211744476149noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1463539586331841894.post-52105196028517732752023-10-11T13:07:00.002-05:002023-10-11T13:14:06.329-05:00Later, Gator!<p><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Since the antebellum home, Hope Farm, burned, a lot has happened. The house was previously owned by my great aunt Katherine Miller and my great uncle Balfour, who bought it in the 1920s and restored it. It was built in 1775 for the Spanish governor, Carlos de Grand Pre. </span></span></p><p><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-family: georgia;">A dear, sweet friend, Ethel Banta, bought the house after Balfour and Katherine had died, and kept it in its original condition, as requested in Balfour's will. She opened the house to tourists during Spring and Fall pilgrimage, and was a delightful raconteur. Ethel died in the fire, so it was doubly heartbreaking. </span></span></p><p><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-family: georgia;">A couple from Arkansas has bought what’s left of it and are going to bring it back to life. I’ve been going over and working in the yard for them. It doesn’t look like it’s been tended in at least a couple of years, so it’s daunting. </span></span></p><p><span color="var(--primary-text)" style="background-color: white; font-family: georgia; white-space-collapse: preserve;">I was there a few days ago, doing some yardwork. Laine and Kevin Berry, the new owners, stopped by for a little while to check on some things, then they left. </span><span color="var(--primary-text)" style="background-color: white; font-family: georgia; white-space-collapse: preserve;">I was happily pulling out poison ivy and laurel from one of the beds in back. </span></p><p><span color="var(--primary-text)" style="background-color: white; font-family: georgia; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Turns out while I was working, there was a traffic jam on Homochitto Street because an alligator had made its way to the entrance of Hope Farm and the police were trying to catch it with one of those long poles with a loop on the </span><a style="background-color: white; color: #385898; cursor: pointer; font-family: georgia; white-space-collapse: preserve;" tabindex="-1"></a><span color="var(--primary-text)" style="background-color: white; font-family: georgia; white-space-collapse: preserve;">end like they use to catch dogs.</span></p><p><span color="var(--primary-text)" style="background-color: white; font-family: georgia; white-space-collapse: preserve;">I was blissfully unaware that anything was afoot. Fortunately, by the time I left, they'd caught it and traffic was able to resume. It's just so weird feeling that all this hullabaloo went on and I never heard a sound. </span></p><p><span color="var(--primary-text)" style="background-color: white; font-family: georgia; white-space-collapse: preserve;">It was all clear when I finally decided I was so tired I had to stop. Went home and took a shower with Palmolive dish soap in case I'd inadvertently touched some of the poison ivy. In fact, I'm sure I did come in contact several times on my wrist. It's the oils on the leaves that cause the rash. But Palmolive is made for getting rid of oil and grease, so into the shower I go. No rash today. I've discovered the secret to avoiding poison ivy. Now I'll have to work on how to keep alligators out of the driveway. LOL!</span></p><div class="x1n2onr6" id=":r13q:" style="background-color: white; position: relative;"><div class="x1n2onr6" style="color: #1c1e21; position: relative;"><div class="xmjcpbm x1n2onr6" style="background-color: var(--comment-background); position: relative;"><div class="x78zum5 x14ju556 x6ikm8r x10wlt62 x1n2onr6" style="display: flex; line-height: 0; overflow: hidden; position: relative;"><a class="x1i10hfl xjbqb8w x6umtig x1b1mbwd xaqea5y xav7gou x9f619 x1ypdohk xt0psk2 xe8uvvx xdj266r x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r xexx8yu x4uap5 x18d9i69 xkhd6sd x16tdsg8 x1hl2dhg xggy1nq x1a2a7pz x1heor9g xt0b8zv x5yr21d xh8yej3" href="https://www.natchezdemocrat.com/2023/10/09/homochitto-street-alligator-gets-new-lease-on-life-in-mississippi-river/?fbclid=IwAR0tjovsIQSEngHT1YJxgLWLI7whMhbnlXkU4qTRHl8MrEfm7eNYdmWXuC8" rel="nofollow noreferrer" role="link" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; background-color: transparent; border-color: initial; border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; 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width: inherit;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><i class="x1b0d499 xep6ejk" data-visualcompletion="css-img" style="background-image: url("https://static.xx.fbcdn.net/rsrc.php/v3/yU/r/3MnxeNF8R-Y.png"); background-position: 0px -130px; background-repeat: no-repeat; background-size: 25px 641px; display: inline-block; filter: var(--filter-primary-icon); height: 20px; vertical-align: -0.25em; width: 20px;"></i></span></span></div></div></div></div><div class="x6ikm8r x10wlt62" style="overflow: hidden;"><div class="x1n2onr6" style="position: relative;"><a class="x1i10hfl xjbqb8w x6umtig x1b1mbwd xaqea5y xav7gou x9f619 x1ypdohk xe8uvvx xdj266r x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r xexx8yu x4uap5 x18d9i69 xkhd6sd x16tdsg8 x1hl2dhg xggy1nq x1a2a7pz x1heor9g x1lliihq x1lku1pv" href="https://www.natchezdemocrat.com/2023/10/09/homochitto-street-alligator-gets-new-lease-on-life-in-mississippi-river/?fbclid=IwAR2ZQT8WGq60g92GyL7N8o5BcYQI2TrLa4VG1bGHf_OC65GGwFOQSRipXHk" rel="nofollow noreferrer" role="link" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; 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padding-right: 6px; position: relative; z-index: 0;"><div class="x1e56ztr xtvhhri" style="color: #1c1e21; margin-bottom: 8px; text-decoration-line: none; text-transform: uppercase;"><span class="x193iq5w xeuugli x13faqbe x1vvkbs xlh3980 xvmahel x1n0sxbx x1lliihq x1s928wv xhkezso x1gmr53x x1cpjm7i x1fgarty x1943h6x x4zkp8e x676frb x1nxh6w3 x1sibtaa xo1l8bm xi81zsa" color="var(--secondary-text)" dir="auto" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; display: block; line-height: 1.2308; max-width: 100%; min-width: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; word-break: break-word;"><span class="x1lliihq x6ikm8r x10wlt62 x1n2onr6 xlyipyv xuxw1ft" style="display: block; overflow: hidden; position: relative; text-overflow: ellipsis; text-wrap: nowrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">NATCHEZDEMOCRAT.COM</span></span></span></div><div class="x6ikm8r x10wlt62 x9f619 x1lkfr7t x4vbgl9 x1rdy4ex xjkvuk6 x1iorvi4 xly2ba0" style="box-sizing: border-box; margin-bottom: -4px; margin-top: -4px; max-height: calc(2.35294em); overflow: hidden; padding-bottom: 4px; padding-top: 4px;"><div class="x78zum5 xdt5ytf xz62fqu x16ldp7u" style="display: flex; flex-direction: column; margin-bottom: -5px; margin-top: -5px;"><div class="xu06os2 x1ok221b" style="margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 5px;"><span class="x193iq5w xeuugli x13faqbe x1vvkbs xlh3980 xvmahel x1n0sxbx x1lliihq x1s928wv xhkezso x1gmr53x x1cpjm7i x1fgarty x1943h6x x4zkp8e x3x7a5m x1lkfr7t x1lbecb7 x1s688f xzsf02u x1yc453h" dir="auto" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; display: block; line-height: 1.1765; max-width: 100%; min-width: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; word-break: break-word;"><span class="x1lliihq x6ikm8r x10wlt62 x1n2onr6" color="var(--primary-text)" style="-webkit-box-orient: vertical; -webkit-line-clamp: 2; display: -webkit-box; font-weight: 600; overflow: hidden; position: relative; text-decoration-line: none;"><span dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Homochitto Street alligator gets new lease on life in Mississippi River - Mississippi's Best Community</span></span></span><span class="x1lliihq x6ikm8r x10wlt62 x1n2onr6" color="var(--primary-text)" style="-webkit-box-orient: vertical; -webkit-line-clamp: 2; display: -webkit-box; font-weight: 600; overflow: hidden; position: relative; text-decoration-line: none;"><span dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></span></span><span class="x1lliihq x6ikm8r x10wlt62 x1n2onr6" color="var(--primary-text)" style="-webkit-box-orient: vertical; -webkit-line-clamp: 2; display: -webkit-box; font-weight: 600; overflow: hidden; position: relative; text-decoration-line: none;">Be sure to check out Kevin and Laine's website. They've been restoring and preserving old houses for several years now. At present, they're living and working at Auburn, keeping it up and giving tours of the house. </span><span class="x1lliihq x6ikm8r x10wlt62 x1n2onr6" color="var(--primary-text)" style="-webkit-box-orient: vertical; -webkit-line-clamp: 2; display: -webkit-box; font-weight: 600; overflow: hidden; position: relative; text-decoration-line: none;"><br /></span><span class="x1lliihq x6ikm8r x10wlt62 x1n2onr6" color="var(--primary-text)" style="-webkit-box-orient: vertical; -webkit-line-clamp: 2; display: -webkit-box; font-weight: 600; overflow: hidden; position: relative; text-decoration-line: none;">ourestorationnation.com</span><span class="x1lliihq x6ikm8r x10wlt62 x1n2onr6" style="-webkit-box-orient: vertical; -webkit-line-clamp: 2; display: -webkit-box; overflow: hidden; position: relative;"><b>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f-IDCkMyrc8</b></span><span class="x1lliihq x6ikm8r x10wlt62 x1n2onr6" style="-webkit-box-orient: vertical; -webkit-line-clamp: 2; display: -webkit-box; overflow: hidden; position: relative;"><b>https://www.youtube.com/@OurRestorationNation</b></span></span></div></div></div></div></div></div></a></div></div></div>Shantybellumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10717453211744476149noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1463539586331841894.post-33468721449158204482023-08-18T23:19:00.001-05:002023-08-18T23:19:17.047-05:00The End of Everythihg<p><i><b><span style="font-size: medium;"> <span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, "system-ui", ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; white-space-collapse: preserve;">The fire didn’t realize the strength of water </span></span></b></i></p><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, "system-ui", ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><i><b><span style="font-size: medium;">until she killed him. </span></b></i><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPG64WyVpOsccxlX7YIyJA-EiiJKLstUVM7mC8afvdgiVGk4UPNmxtheae7au7evPmBeMKfNxb4Q8ZoGyIC21sYYJKksX2H3kp91FolwJ-ogKhBffhuQxkMV9Tlj423GvAqgew9aeI9PT7d3iI_E5yKmtsMkavltOOpWzBRqfn5iZD2uBoK_v_Pv_mZGEt/s365/pngtree-blue-sky-and-sunshine-image_548401.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="261" data-original-width="365" height="352" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPG64WyVpOsccxlX7YIyJA-EiiJKLstUVM7mC8afvdgiVGk4UPNmxtheae7au7evPmBeMKfNxb4Q8ZoGyIC21sYYJKksX2H3kp91FolwJ-ogKhBffhuQxkMV9Tlj423GvAqgew9aeI9PT7d3iI_E5yKmtsMkavltOOpWzBRqfn5iZD2uBoK_v_Pv_mZGEt/w492-h352/pngtree-blue-sky-and-sunshine-image_548401.jpg" width="492" /></a></div></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, "system-ui", ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><i><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></i></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, "system-ui", ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><i><b><span style="font-size: medium;">The water didn’t realize </span></b></i></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, "system-ui", ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><i><b><span style="font-size: medium;">the strength of radiation before she evaporated </span></b></i></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, "system-ui", ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><i><b><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></i></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, "system-ui", ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><i><b><span style="font-size: medium;">like a magician’s rabbit (without the wiggle), and began to complain about the sky’s all-powerful portal </span></b></i></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, "system-ui", ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><i><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></i></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, "system-ui", ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><i><b><span style="font-size: medium;">— which, as everyone knows — </span></b></i></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, "system-ui", ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><i><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></i></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, "system-ui", ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><i><b><span style="font-size: medium;">will kill us all.</span></b></i></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, "system-ui", ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><i><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></i></div><h2 style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, "system-ui", ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; text-align: left; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><i><b><span style="font-size: medium;">By Elodie Pritchartt, August 18,2023</span></b></i></h2>Shantybellumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10717453211744476149noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1463539586331841894.post-19397331279150479662023-01-21T23:37:00.007-06:002023-01-21T23:57:07.507-06:00The Chipmunk who Smiled at Me<p><span style="font-size: medium;"> I woke early that morning and wandered downstairs. I was six years old. As I walked outside I saw Bitsy, our beloved mackerel-striped tabby, walking about the yard with a little furry creature in its mouth. Horrified, I ran down the back stairs and caught Bitsy and gently pulled the poor critter from its certain doom.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">It was very cute, and as I walked back upstairs noticed him smiling at me for saving him. He was brown with a tail sort of like a squirrel, only smaller. And it had a pair of beautiful stripes on its back. I smiled back.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">"It's all right," I said. "I'll take good care of you."</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">"Gosh, six-year-old I, thought. It's actually smiling at me."</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">"Yes, you're safe now," I told it. "See? Everything's all right."</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I brought it inside with the intention of showing my prize and act of kindness when it bit the shit out of my finger. What I'd thought was a smile was a warning: "Don't mess with me."</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I screamed and dropped it. It ran off to wherever wild animals run off to when they're inside a house.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I ran up to my parents' bedroom. I shook Mother's shoulder and said, "Mother, wake up. It bit me."</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I'd never seen her sit up so fast from a deep sleep in my life. "What bit you? Where?"</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">"I don't know," I bawled. It was kind of like a squirrel. Bitsy had it in his mouth and I saved him, but he bit me."</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Panic rising in her voice, she asked, "Where? Where did it bite you?"</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I held out my bloody finger for her to see. "But it was smiling at me. I save him from Bitsy."</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">"Oh, God, she said. "Howard. Wake up. Something bit Elodie.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I thought I'd get some Bactine and a band-aid and that would be it. But no. It was imperative we find this creature. Mother told our maid, Augustine, what had happened, and told her if she found anything dead in the house to save it. "Whatever you do, don't throw it away. It might have rabies. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I'd never heard of rabies before. She made an appointment with Dr. Calhoun to come in and start a series of rabies shots. At that time, the shots were given in the stomach or abdomen area.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">We entered Dr. Calhoun's office to the familiar alcohol-infused air that always smelled like spotless, clean pain.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">"Baby," said Mother, "We've got to give you a shot or you might get really sick.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I was a skinny child without an ounce of fat on me. It took three nurses and my mother to hold me down as I screamed while I was injected with a huge needle right in the abdomen, in which every muscle was tightened. I'd never felt such pain in my short little life. It was unimaginable pain.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Then Mother informed me that I'd have to have 13 more shots in the stomach every day until it was finished. I could catch rabies and that could kill me. Maybe dying would be better.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Mother sent me off to school the next morning, but all I could think about was that next shot. It was akin to torture. By the time school let out, I was trembling with fear. I got into the car.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirh8YyhkpkoSeZmHa_m1ypHBzStgO6bm74EJOVs2v1vacMzfVmjbc6WF98ZAEZSA5NuoKr-9LPsQvT8C4NRPPAv2rQwbXchpf3pyaP3Qa9oilx4FB8_YdiRNFjbJbIrNSqvryQVGGUiQdx7hyx-Qs04-_BAgOckJdeu88MrnOjqK9WZCaTT7u2tcHPlg/s4032/IMG_2008.heic" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirh8YyhkpkoSeZmHa_m1ypHBzStgO6bm74EJOVs2v1vacMzfVmjbc6WF98ZAEZSA5NuoKr-9LPsQvT8C4NRPPAv2rQwbXchpf3pyaP3Qa9oilx4FB8_YdiRNFjbJbIrNSqvryQVGGUiQdx7hyx-Qs04-_BAgOckJdeu88MrnOjqK9WZCaTT7u2tcHPlg/w300-h400/IMG_2008.heic" width="300" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br />"I've got good news," said Mother. "I asked Augustine today if she'd found anything strange in the house while cleaning.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">"Found something. It looked like a roach, so I threw it away," she replied. It had hidden behind the drapes in one of the rooms of the house and died. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Mother rushed out of the back door and down to the alley where the trash was kept. Luckily the trash hadn't been collected, and there, lying amid old coffee grounds, egg shells and garbage, lay a dead chipmunk.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">"They sent the head off to Jackson to be tested for rabies, and it came back negative. That means you don't have to get any more shots."</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Relief washed over me like water. I felt like a German being freed from a concentration camp. Then I got mad.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Why had she let me sit there all day at school when she could've called the school to let them and me know. Honestly? I still don't understand it. She HAD to know the dread and fear I'd experienced the whole day, imagining another of those horrible shots in the stomach.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">This was before I finally realized that my mother was self-centered; it wouldn't have even dawned on her to let me know earlier. She let me sit there all day awaiting torments that rivaled the Spanish inquisition.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I had learned a valuable lesson that day. Don't take a chipmunk's smile at face value. Those little bastards can be mean. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Eventually, Bitsy moved down the alley to my great aunt's house, who was more attentive to the needs of pets than we were. In fact, a lot of our pets moved to Annet's. She was the magical lady in the Disney story of The Three Lives of Thomasina, the cat. Animals just knew a better place to be.</span></p><p><br /></p><p><i>Bitsy on the sidewalk in front of Annet's house. He was 20 years old. The last time my aunt saw him, he was being carried down the street by a pack of dogs. Sad story all around. Photo by Neil Varnell</i></p>Shantybellumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10717453211744476149noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1463539586331841894.post-24204609699454763122022-08-06T14:06:00.002-05:002022-08-06T14:16:54.370-05:00Side Trips on the Blues Highway -- The Mississippi Delta <div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigbnHQ8Q5ARWSBepyHbRUd-pnXz_qlbRZAHs3axiMbp_xD2j0ePKpT9vhot79P241k9xC-wcNwb-9P0yDnB7Fpe4t8YOhl8aTZGE1A_wnW4FsrB68OGVuK1qI0FvDNiyUWmXRKVVngni3KhhCsiCHSmZYd7S0dcy_gkAFTuFHJrzJb9B6i4OLJceoOxw/s640/Clarksdale%202%20(63).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigbnHQ8Q5ARWSBepyHbRUd-pnXz_qlbRZAHs3axiMbp_xD2j0ePKpT9vhot79P241k9xC-wcNwb-9P0yDnB7Fpe4t8YOhl8aTZGE1A_wnW4FsrB68OGVuK1qI0FvDNiyUWmXRKVVngni3KhhCsiCHSmZYd7S0dcy_gkAFTuFHJrzJb9B6i4OLJceoOxw/w640-h480/Clarksdale%202%20(63).jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><br /></div><br />After the mandatory six-month waiting period, the date my divorce was to be finalized was fast approaching. I'd been fielding calls from the ex who'd suddenly decided he didn't want a divorce and wanted to "talk." His calls were so frantic, I decided to disappear until after the divorce was final. <div><br /></div><div>So I got into my car and drove, wandering through parts of the country by myself that I've always wanted to see, stopping along the way to take photos and see places I remembered from my youth.
I found this one street off a cotton field with a couple of old storefronts, all crumbling and abandoned. One had the remnants of a bar with broken pottery still sitting on the counter top. The other was just the shell of a building, open to the sky with trees and vines growing up the floor and walls. </div><div><br /></div><div>I stepped inside the door to get a better shot when it sounded like the building was falling down on top of me. I ducked as a huge owl swooped down out of the rafters over my head and into the tree behind the building. </div><div><br /></div><div>When I checked into the B&B, the fellow who checked me in said, "I understand no one is to know you're here. Don't worry; your secret's safe with me." </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU45EbZhWeOKncw3LQY9dVNK7aUgCK3UgiWdhdDIP6iEYuq7rgTX0AmQFZppJkL4BT2VYXjXKRIB4ubw1qa4JRnw9_MZw4M0JBi3d3b5PfocmXx1PsLMI9dQGKehap9Wjt3tMCgKkNDdfURXvT3oQbp_SquJkTQRvSrrPABD5VE4Zn1McP54rXYHCdpg/s640/P1011006.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU45EbZhWeOKncw3LQY9dVNK7aUgCK3UgiWdhdDIP6iEYuq7rgTX0AmQFZppJkL4BT2VYXjXKRIB4ubw1qa4JRnw9_MZw4M0JBi3d3b5PfocmXx1PsLMI9dQGKehap9Wjt3tMCgKkNDdfURXvT3oQbp_SquJkTQRvSrrPABD5VE4Zn1McP54rXYHCdpg/w640-h480/P1011006.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div>I thanked him profusely and checked into a charming little room in a garage behind a big old house once owned by a man who owned a 20,000-acre plantation and killed almost every bear in the state.
It's a beautiful house, reminiscent of an English country cottage, right in the middle of town. They've got 12 acres surrounded by Days Inn, Burger King and other tacky establishments. A little piece of heaven in the middle of town. There were three other couples staying at the house. Very nice folks from Kentucky, off on a road trip of their own. They had the whole main house to themselves, while I took the room in the garage. </div><div><br /></div><div>That night I went to a liquor store to buy some wine. The security was so tight, I had to pass the money through a slot in the wall, and they passed the wine through a bigger slot. </div><div><br /></div><div>"Are you here for the Blues thing?" the lady behind the bulletproof glass asked me. </div><div><br /></div><div>"I don't know anything about it," I replied. "What's going on?" </div><div><br /></div><div> "There's a big blues singer -- a woman -- in town. Women from all over the country are here to hear her. Figured you were here for the show."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Thanks. I think I'll check it out." </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4plmcU8rn6iyHXkK3_PrTBR_o8quNn3g4SQP_Hi4ILVH8IDKvYCBBu1FTaVGYb0K9HuJZPmMk41-laR7aQXrt9JEJoHhOsySz20nkl6uYdz2mrjc-2RouMIoterqpThjKmzneUenWDR7uG4L1P7NBZZrp56Vfhu8HskKkjQik0EiFkrKK9E5SzZVfvA/s400/Clarksdale%203%20(1).jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="346" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4plmcU8rn6iyHXkK3_PrTBR_o8quNn3g4SQP_Hi4ILVH8IDKvYCBBu1FTaVGYb0K9HuJZPmMk41-laR7aQXrt9JEJoHhOsySz20nkl6uYdz2mrjc-2RouMIoterqpThjKmzneUenWDR7uG4L1P7NBZZrp56Vfhu8HskKkjQik0EiFkrKK9E5SzZVfvA/s320/Clarksdale%203%20(1).jpg" width="277" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>That evening I went to dinner in town. I saw the other couples from the B&B there, and went over and introduced myself. </div><div><br /></div><div>"What are you doing in town?" one of the husbands asked me. </div><div><br /></div><div> "Oh, I'm just here for a little quiet time," I said. "I want to do some writing and take some pictures." </div><div><br /></div><div>They were very cordial and invited me for breakfast next morning. </div><div><br /></div><div>Then I went to see the Blues lady. Definitely a hit with the menopausal crowd, of which I realize I'm a member. It was so odd, being in this Blues dive with a bunch of old yuppies with lines around their eyes, wearing their dainty PTA clothes and grinding to the lyrics:
"Baby, you got somethin' in your toolbox that I aine' got in mine,
Maybe you could use it to show me a good time." </div><div><br /></div><div>While I was there, the other couples came in. They'd driven all the way from Kentucky just to hear this woman sing. I was standing at the bar when one of the women came up to get a drink. I smiled and said hello. </div><div><br /></div><div>"So, I hear you're getting a divorce," she said. </div><div><br /></div><div> I had to laugh. I remembered Pal (the guy who checked me in)telling me, "We don't care what you've done. We just want to talk about it." </div><div><br /></div><div> I felt kind of sheepish after my suave dodge of the husband's question earlier. I had a couple of margaritas and watched the crowd, and went home early (around 11 p.m.) The other couples staying at the B&B stayed out 'til about 1 a.m., and looked a little raggedy this morning. But they were nice folks, asking me about my book business and getting all excited when I showed them the book I found at Goodwill by Captain Kangaroo that was signed. </div><div><br /></div><div>"Oh, my God! I LOVED him!" </div><div><br /></div><div>I did, too. Was it so very long ago? Well, I guess maybe it was. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9gVUyr5OdGmFdoPrzJkfgTFcJj_AsDw6LphF2CdAau-5tVYHgBWeTjWORh0zNEpHP8cKXqopMXPQeyNgwHgHEmrgM6eHQSMSD0-4Psu_o15Q4nuPzL0O7nYern2FBRcHz554s4gLdw15rjN5aclJZ8CfACriyNATg-6J9CodYNulfvNQBh8RNCOdDYw/s640/Clarksdale%202%20(12)%20(Small).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9gVUyr5OdGmFdoPrzJkfgTFcJj_AsDw6LphF2CdAau-5tVYHgBWeTjWORh0zNEpHP8cKXqopMXPQeyNgwHgHEmrgM6eHQSMSD0-4Psu_o15Q4nuPzL0O7nYern2FBRcHz554s4gLdw15rjN5aclJZ8CfACriyNATg-6J9CodYNulfvNQBh8RNCOdDYw/w640-h480/Clarksdale%202%20(12)%20(Small).jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>That day, I moved over to another B&B that is a little bigger and has more atmosphere. I woke up the next morning to the mournful sound of a train whistle on the tracks. I love that sound, even while it makes me kind of sad. It makes me feel like a child again, all tucked safely into bed and hearing that whistle, feeling secure in the bosom of my home and wondering about the lonely souls out there riding on the rails. </div><div><br /></div><div>Later that morning I was talking to Dave, the fellow who keeps everything neat and tidy at the B&B. </div><div><br /></div><div>"I heard the train this morning," I said, explaining how it makes me feel. </div><div><br /></div><div> "Trains don't run on these tracks anymore," he replied. </div><div><br /></div><div> "But I heard it! I swear I did." </div><div><br /></div><div> "Oh, that was just (can't remember the name). He likes trains. He's got some money, so he bought himself an engine. He drives it about a mile down the tracks and back every day, blowing the whistle." </div><div><br /></div><div>God, I love small towns. </div><div><br /></div><div>That morning I walked across the parking lot to have breakfast at this little dive that serves the best scrambled eggs, grits, bacon and toast in town. While I was there, I saw a wizened old Black man with loaded dice play tricks on a couple of tourists, and brag about all the places he's been. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO4pPnxJoj4GIs9fuvVlcEX8JoLkv-7R9rq-tVgQg1LbOUPci89RiVnO1H73MvCkm1daDqU72oMwsw1jk6mbLXNeMImsSDDhNSpEHVaLOJZqyYBgxG35RxjfWL7AwKI8zHuawe7SB211Jlu8KxIKuWl8Rl6m7L_jOQNqDOwwa6tm7ZFFudlO8b25DRtQ/s640/Clarksdale%202%20(23)%20(Small).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO4pPnxJoj4GIs9fuvVlcEX8JoLkv-7R9rq-tVgQg1LbOUPci89RiVnO1H73MvCkm1daDqU72oMwsw1jk6mbLXNeMImsSDDhNSpEHVaLOJZqyYBgxG35RxjfWL7AwKI8zHuawe7SB211Jlu8KxIKuWl8Rl6m7L_jOQNqDOwwa6tm7ZFFudlO8b25DRtQ/w400-h300/Clarksdale%202%20(23)%20(Small).jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>While I ate my food a cat jumped up on the counter and started eying my plate.
"You better watch him real close," said the waiter behind the bar. "He sneaky." </div><div><br /></div><div>I wondered if the health department knew about Catty Can (his name). Pretty soon, Catty Can tried to make a move and I swatted at him, saying, "Nope! Not today, partner." He gave me a wicked, disgusted look and lay down on the counter, waiting for another opportunity until the waiter snuck up behind him and grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and tossed him on the floor. </div><div><br /></div><div>The days passed. I drove all over the state, enjoying my solitude and my newfound sense of freedom, feeling powerful and introspective. I think every woman should take a road trip by herself at least once in her lifetime.
It's a trip.</div></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWnesdp78Ngb_Q-49EbS0PI0hkJyI1JpFm2eGEXomsDPluynIINpgxePH_YTLjZkVAuhD_V1fGM53zr5JGkXbgRJQ7gkXQLb7l6ZDVwQKipLv6QJwbcaK2OCw6EW_9dW61YlBTEblbRLwk_4iBgeU6FFKjhJ9pkUEhBAKKIVIiXNXHBzUpMNpfBpXv4w/s640/P1010875.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="517" data-original-width="640" height="518" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWnesdp78Ngb_Q-49EbS0PI0hkJyI1JpFm2eGEXomsDPluynIINpgxePH_YTLjZkVAuhD_V1fGM53zr5JGkXbgRJQ7gkXQLb7l6ZDVwQKipLv6QJwbcaK2OCw6EW_9dW61YlBTEblbRLwk_4iBgeU6FFKjhJ9pkUEhBAKKIVIiXNXHBzUpMNpfBpXv4w/w640-h518/P1010875.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div>Shantybellumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10717453211744476149noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1463539586331841894.post-23994836516708940432022-06-15T21:03:00.003-05:002022-06-15T21:20:04.495-05:00To Doo, or not to Doo. That is the question.<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRmLp5OGpOLSUq00mod9he8qemFPuk6q55rzfiya1PmWuXwwkbUuUIpUAC0RVQJ5PRm9b8v6Nw8z-Fnzd1JUlOutj_om-w18H_X2qudIWkwsSfcjYHB22gVk_lwKfj-oc042fnRbSj5Z_pWdnzK6ymXsT4OCmiQLouQqKGB7MxJ5uVWxPTbuk_-Pua_g/s640/IMG_0332.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="394" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRmLp5OGpOLSUq00mod9he8qemFPuk6q55rzfiya1PmWuXwwkbUuUIpUAC0RVQJ5PRm9b8v6Nw8z-Fnzd1JUlOutj_om-w18H_X2qudIWkwsSfcjYHB22gVk_lwKfj-oc042fnRbSj5Z_pWdnzK6ymXsT4OCmiQLouQqKGB7MxJ5uVWxPTbuk_-Pua_g/w296-h394/IMG_0332.jpg" width="296" /></a></div><br />My poor little doggie. She's always had urinary incontinence, which makes housekeeping a regular pain in the rear. She rarely has a #2 accident, though. The last couple of nights, I've asked her to go out and go potty.<p></p><br data-lexical-editor-key="ygowq" data-lexical-node-json="{"type":"linebreak","version":1}" data-lexical-node-type="linebreak" /><span data-lexical-editor-key="ygowq" data-lexical-node-json="{"detail":0,"format":0,"mode":"normal","style":"","text":"She gets out on the porch and suddenly realizes she's got to do #2. But she can't quite hold it in. It starts prairie dogging -- you know, peeking its little head out of her rear end and then going back in.","type":"text","version":1}" data-lexical-node-type="text">She gets out on the porch and suddenly realizes she's got to do #2. But she can't quite hold it in. It starts prairie dogging -- you know, peeking its little head out of her rear end and then going back in.</span><br data-lexical-editor-key="ygowq" data-lexical-node-json="{"type":"linebreak","version":1}" data-lexical-node-type="linebreak" /><br data-lexical-editor-key="ygowq" data-lexical-node-json="{"type":"linebreak","version":1}" data-lexical-node-type="linebreak" /><span data-lexical-editor-key="ygowq" data-lexical-node-json="{"detail":0,"format":0,"mode":"normal","style":"","text":"In the meantime, she's trying as fast as her 15-year-old puggle legs will carry her down, down, down, the many stairs to get to the yard. Without fail, she manages to leave a land mine or two on the steps. But who on earth can fuss at her for that?","type":"text","version":1}" data-lexical-node-type="text">In the meantime, she's trying as fast as her 15-year-old puggle legs will carry her down, down, down, the many stairs to get to the yard. Without fail, she manages to leave a land mine or two on the steps. But who on earth can fuss at her for that?</span><br data-lexical-editor-key="ygowq" data-lexical-node-json="{"type":"linebreak","version":1}" data-lexical-node-type="linebreak" /><br data-lexical-editor-key="ygowq" data-lexical-node-json="{"type":"linebreak","version":1}" data-lexical-node-type="linebreak" /><span data-lexical-editor-key="ygowq" data-lexical-node-json="{"detail":0,"format":0,"mode":"normal","style":"","text":"This is the dog that made the LA Times Book Review for the stinkiest farts on the planet. Of course, to me, they smell like flowers. She is my heart.","type":"text","version":1}" data-lexical-node-type="text">This is the dog that made the <a href="https://www.latimes.com/entertainment-arts/books/story/2020-09-02/capturing-colorful-southern-town-where-everything-nothing-is-black-white" target="_blank">LA Times Book Review</a> for the stinkiest farts on the planet. Of course, to me, they smell like flowers. She is my heart.</span><br data-lexical-editor-key="ygowq" data-lexical-node-json="{"type":"linebreak","version":1}" data-lexical-node-type="linebreak" /><br data-lexical-editor-key="ygowq" data-lexical-node-json="{"type":"linebreak","version":1}" data-lexical-node-type="linebreak" /><span data-lexical-editor-key="ygowq" data-lexical-node-json="{"detail":0,"format":0,"mode":"normal","style":"","text":"Even her poops are cute.","type":"text","version":1}" data-lexical-node-type="text">Even her poops are cute.</span>Shantybellumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10717453211744476149noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1463539586331841894.post-17957112122809209682022-04-02T19:58:00.008-05:002022-04-09T22:50:05.056-05:00All For Naught<p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><i> </i></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcDLYPekODh8wXw-1j7CWstaAx3T-hxzH3mhnOG6RcEHy6DO2nSqp1iWwLsg9XKjFTFjcmtxuGqfYNH52zUh1JsF6Fxslp4w_pnWRltW218M2rUroL7PhS_9ur9AwBF9vWy57Ki8zNAwO__t0g-Eeoi_tLgQKXg1VWr_c7d5hkI9T99vVP9ze7CQ5bfg/s640/Rodney5.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcDLYPekODh8wXw-1j7CWstaAx3T-hxzH3mhnOG6RcEHy6DO2nSqp1iWwLsg9XKjFTFjcmtxuGqfYNH52zUh1JsF6Fxslp4w_pnWRltW218M2rUroL7PhS_9ur9AwBF9vWy57Ki8zNAwO__t0g-Eeoi_tLgQKXg1VWr_c7d5hkI9T99vVP9ze7CQ5bfg/w480-h640/Rodney5.jpg" width="480" /></a></i></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><i><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; white-space: pre-wrap;">I've decided it's true.</span></i></span><p></p><p><i style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: georgia; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: large;">No good deed goes unpunished.</span></i></p><div class="kvgmc6g5 cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; margin: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><i>But that it's punished without question</i></span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><i>says more about the accuser than the accused.</i></span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><i>And the older I get the more unkind I realize people are.</i></span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><i>Choose whatever you want to believe.</i></span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><i>But remember. It is the belief that defines you, not the</i></span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><i>actions of an innocent in the wrong place at the wrong time.</i></span></div></div><div class="cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql o9v6fnle ii04i59q" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>The world will go on, spinning into eternity, and it will all </i></span><i style="font-family: georgia;">amount to nothing. </i></span></div><div dir="auto"><i style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></div><div dir="auto"><i style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: large;">Put one foot in front of the other and live your life as if you still believe in humanity. </span></i></div><div dir="auto"><i style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></div><div dir="auto"><i style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: large;">A hundred years from now, we will be nothing more than stones with dates set in the dirt for the few who will remember.</span></i></div><div dir="auto"><i style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></div></div><div class="cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql o9v6fnle ii04i59q" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><i>After that, let the archaeologists dig us up and wonder who we were and what marks we left.</i></span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><i>With any luck at all, there won't be a mark to be found.</i></span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><i>~ April 2, 2022</i></span></div></div>Shantybellumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10717453211744476149noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1463539586331841894.post-62545355134225278052021-08-28T16:21:00.002-05:002021-08-29T10:31:29.865-05:00Gone with the Wind<p> Waiting for Ida to hit. It's supposed to be the strongest hurricane to hit New Orleans in centuries. And it's on the 16th anniversary of Hurricane Katrina. This is what happened at my house last year during Hurricane Laura, which wasn't nearly as bad.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzzKeHTVsCh-PJ0AKjcMRohk8U1O2SchD_Ra4iRTiwtyRPhUVQD4PDXZfwlKoLGeRoWsHDaQPbu_MjUWB55qA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br /><p>Well over $100 thousand dollars worth of damage and six months living at the B&B. Here's the tree that fell and, unfortunately, there's an even larger one right next to it. Both in my neighbor's yard.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dKh_yeEz2WQ/YSqoUORgIRI/AAAAAAAADUE/on11GhvtzxoXjhjUikO_P7L0R_X8huclwCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/IMG_0649.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="240" data-original-width="320" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dKh_yeEz2WQ/YSqoUORgIRI/AAAAAAAADUE/on11GhvtzxoXjhjUikO_P7L0R_X8huclwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/IMG_0649.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p>Hold on to your hats, folks. It's gonna be a bumpy ride.</p>Shantybellumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10717453211744476149noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1463539586331841894.post-11967370359966005412021-06-05T18:52:00.012-05:002024-02-03T19:41:14.454-06:00The Train Station<p><span style="font-family: georgia;">I'm going to post this, even thought it's not finished and I'm still not sure of all the facts. But I need to post.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">It was a dreary day in 1871 when Anne Gilbert Snyder Munger accompanied her husband, Henry Elias Munger, to the railroad station in Alton, Illinois. After a tumultuous six years of marriage, Henry left her and her three children, and fled to Texas. It was the last time she would ever see him, another casualty of the War Between the States. Anne was a devout Catholic, so divorce was out of the question.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Munger graduated from Union College in Schenectady, New York as a sergeant, 1st lt., Company A. in 1861, He returned home two years later with the 18th New York Infantry as a company commander, and acting adjutant. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">As a civilian after the war, Munger went to work for the commissary department in Illinois. On November13, 1865, he married Anne Gilbert Snyder. <span class="Apple-converted-space" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 11pt;"> </span><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 11pt;">Henry and Anne </span><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 11pt;">had three children ⏤ their eldest a daughter, Anne Lucy, followed by two sons, Henry and Carlton. </span>Henry Elias moved his family numerous times in search of railway jobs, which he quickly lost due to his drinking. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">While living in Hannibal, Anne could take no more of his drinking, took the children and left him. That day at the train station, he was so drunk, she was nearly paralyzed with fear that he would collapse on a train track and be run over. But she watched him totter onto a train headed for Texas. Finally, she turned around and without looking back, returned home to collect her things and moved with her daughter, Anne Lucy, to be closer to family. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 11pt;">After Henry Elias’ departure, his brothers, William and Lyman took the boys in, cared for them and educated them. Anne and her daughter then moved to Alton, Illinois in order for her to be closer to her family. One of her boys, Henry Snyder, lived with Lyman and Carlton lived with William.</span> She never saw Henry again. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Around 1885 while on a round trip cruise from St. Louis, Anne Lucy met Anchor Steam Lines purser, William Howard Pritchartt. Pritchartt had fallen in love with the City of Natchez, Mississippi, and bought two lots on the tall bluff overlooking the Mississippi River, married Anne Lucy, built a home and raised a family there. Around 1910, Anne Snyder Munger moved to Natchez to live with her daughter and their family.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">To be fair, Munger probably suffered from PTSD. The Civil War was anything but civil, and he'd been in skirmishes and seen things that no one should have to see. He started out as a fresh-faced young man with fair skin and an open, friendly, handsome face.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">According to a passage from <i><u>The18th New York Infantry in the Civil War: A History and a Roster</u></i> by Ryan A. Conklin, McFarland & Co., Inc., Publishers, 2016, Munger landed in Texas and became a vagabond, wandering all over the state looking for work. He continued to drink and was described by saloon regulars as "ugly and quarrelsome" when drunk. His last known whereabouts was in Beaumont, TX in 1901, where he failed to pick up his last pension check. It was assumed that he had died, but how is not known. His grave can be found in Lufkin, Texas in a pauper's cemetery called <i>Strangers' Rest Cemetery </i>where a small stone plaque displays the names of known burials from early records. On that plaque one can find the name, Harry E. Munger.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">It took many years of going to the Congressional Library to find when he had died before she was finally able to get her "widder's mite," veterans' benefits for the widows of those who'd served.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D13gLbZqMaQ/YD1MADeZR1I/AAAAAAAADP0/lmRViVBy6RcGoVjH5vmbrA8CFdPrEbxxgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1295/H.E.%2BMunger%2B1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1295" data-original-width="921" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D13gLbZqMaQ/YD1MADeZR1I/AAAAAAAADP0/lmRViVBy6RcGoVjH5vmbrA8CFdPrEbxxgCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/H.E.%2BMunger%2B1.jpg" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p><br /></p><p><i><span style="font-family: georgia;">For pictures of and stories about the house on the bluff, see https://shantybellum.blogspot.com/2011/09/long-farewell.html</span></i></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Upon arriving in Natchez, Anne had two or three possessions that were valuable. She was a personal friend of Abraham Lincoln, and, as such, had received a handwritten invitation to his inauguration. Lincoln was one of those rare people, especially in such early days, to be a celebrity in his own time, and anything signed or written by him was worth its weight in gold. Lincoln had written to her to personally invite her to his inauguration, which she dutifully kept, but later lost. She was known as a terrible housekeeper and may have simply thrown it away accidentally. We looked in places she might've hidden the invitation to prevent theft, and upon taking the back off of the following photo, was excited to see a partial address on Pennsylvania Avenue. It did not turn out to be the lost invitation; however, we discovered it is an original Matthew Brady photo, whose studio was on Pennsylvania Avenue.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzpOZRIa-5EGA6N80AWeF3dK1_nVf92R5C0_i8J6qoe4KOTYR7qbibdKSBP5Uf9DkNI8Rgy3EkPDzgxklex0enhL4s6lXJltPsr-QXbP60CbEEaBeuVCeb34LapOrxwrY2pUb_rpn6ITG-btJGbipH-HHhXP5ThZhgmNYNskuw_xFUX6isOA_HBYYyZoCy/s4032/Matthew%20Braady%20Photo%20of%20Munger.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzpOZRIa-5EGA6N80AWeF3dK1_nVf92R5C0_i8J6qoe4KOTYR7qbibdKSBP5Uf9DkNI8Rgy3EkPDzgxklex0enhL4s6lXJltPsr-QXbP60CbEEaBeuVCeb34LapOrxwrY2pUb_rpn6ITG-btJGbipH-HHhXP5ThZhgmNYNskuw_xFUX6isOA_HBYYyZoCy/s320/Matthew%20Braady%20Photo%20of%20Munger.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirCj4rRxzL5hwyqARlTgTWGz_yXb_bw-bkJKCWLixBm0QWT_ypW2PrqwXpBQol51enlURrVvhklUXCZ2EsKwfBcwB4CYWcUZZ2_hl-cSncoHVtTdgxEukfYId8aFpN4beM0Xez9ko1SiyQxy6A-BOk4OzrYsQ-s8kJEu1Y9wXc6ydwDTb-GheQuzsTLPcf/s4032/Matthew%20Brady%20Photo%20of%20HS%20Munger.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirCj4rRxzL5hwyqARlTgTWGz_yXb_bw-bkJKCWLixBm0QWT_ypW2PrqwXpBQol51enlURrVvhklUXCZ2EsKwfBcwB4CYWcUZZ2_hl-cSncoHVtTdgxEukfYId8aFpN4beM0Xez9ko1SiyQxy6A-BOk4OzrYsQ-s8kJEu1Y9wXc6ydwDTb-GheQuzsTLPcf/w300-h400/Matthew%20Brady%20Photo%20of%20HS%20Munger.jpg" title="Henry Elias Munger, photo by Matthew Brady" width="300" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">H.S. Munger by Matthew Brady</span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsbAmTSK2tLONoH7wur2IIRr0ddQHt5Kp2KDvOU4MZnGeCcQ5zqYBcXc47CycXpfo726KNJTPgtf6e5Qo00lEMXT30J2dATYMafakk7AEmVX1l_JMzx3TeIxvH2tGyTrfra8QFfJ9lqWsWVqhz4wm-WweylH0aK5hbtjikS5CQ1o-_b3raEjDavLsSi9YO/s4032/Munger%20Diary%20after.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsbAmTSK2tLONoH7wur2IIRr0ddQHt5Kp2KDvOU4MZnGeCcQ5zqYBcXc47CycXpfo726KNJTPgtf6e5Qo00lEMXT30J2dATYMafakk7AEmVX1l_JMzx3TeIxvH2tGyTrfra8QFfJ9lqWsWVqhz4wm-WweylH0aK5hbtjikS5CQ1o-_b3raEjDavLsSi9YO/s320/Munger%20Diary%20after.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">H.S. Diary</span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDs5NzXMf9RTdwhCLrQticy05zlX377vD5ofewYJjMXvuGPiikmE9sQaARBrm96vRrYJw_eOzMekOuub0KraKWylPvW-Q_tw-U15bcCyJNqk1do-8qpn5qmBOSuiN2T9LIC4dfP1NJR3koAJCbICdijJ99W72uK4pIM5ARoWmItrSdFFpY6rekModUtf_O/s4032/Munger%20Diary%20after%202.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDs5NzXMf9RTdwhCLrQticy05zlX377vD5ofewYJjMXvuGPiikmE9sQaARBrm96vRrYJw_eOzMekOuub0KraKWylPvW-Q_tw-U15bcCyJNqk1do-8qpn5qmBOSuiN2T9LIC4dfP1NJR3koAJCbICdijJ99W72uK4pIM5ARoWmItrSdFFpY6rekModUtf_O/s320/Munger%20Diary%20after%202.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">She had her husband's Civil-War journal and a large book of paintings of American Indians, which she later sold.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">She also had in her possession her brother's (Joseph Baker) naval commission, which he received in 1861, after having enlisted without his father's knowledge or permission. </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW8tzqoLiqwamBO2b7xcMG62cezneW37L05ZkLNySjvrLG5-CBwDIieZPyGMO3I2Gm4WFIh8vX1lsM0fx6kdHzRqXD8-7EZZF5wZdkNH-AtSfBUzd3033UpHA5XOzDzFbjosdMAwij0fDFgvuCyEIz_Wm1DBXsRLA8kGjeVgx3xS2_yH3sypUGwQnn39gj/s1626/Joseph%20F.%20Baker.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1626" data-original-width="1221" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW8tzqoLiqwamBO2b7xcMG62cezneW37L05ZkLNySjvrLG5-CBwDIieZPyGMO3I2Gm4WFIh8vX1lsM0fx6kdHzRqXD8-7EZZF5wZdkNH-AtSfBUzd3033UpHA5XOzDzFbjosdMAwij0fDFgvuCyEIz_Wm1DBXsRLA8kGjeVgx3xS2_yH3sypUGwQnn39gj/w300-h400/Joseph%20F.%20Baker.jpg" width="300" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">He was appointed in June, 1861, as lieutenant in the Marine Corps. The commission, which is still extant, was signed by Gideon Welles, Secretary of the Navy and Abraham Lincoln, President of the United States.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhrattW12wjPRdHkkD8Z7Ugob6TXS179UC4RT6sFa_y2bBQ1aZOzn9GVmjtOTu4m67Oj8gbdoSwfFUApxx4xnaQ10arTZC2TzqsRl5FLgx8vyw4Z3mJtJ4k7mB3_fQIK6OGHMwkbEpYBVv-3ca64UPMe27E90Bc0buV1WblTF8A8LZf5RrKQpuTQgId3ru/s3303/Naval%20commisssion.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3303" data-original-width="2883" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhrattW12wjPRdHkkD8Z7Ugob6TXS179UC4RT6sFa_y2bBQ1aZOzn9GVmjtOTu4m67Oj8gbdoSwfFUApxx4xnaQ10arTZC2TzqsRl5FLgx8vyw4Z3mJtJ4k7mB3_fQIK6OGHMwkbEpYBVv-3ca64UPMe27E90Bc0buV1WblTF8A8LZf5RrKQpuTQgId3ru/w558-h640/Naval%20commisssion.jpg" width="558" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdlzBEBrB6-RpHtevtqpBGQzCpem1dJB8a923cNYELa-mNrx-MKCwYW7AoP6GhiX_WVnZbG3RVENFbxfvKHiXgciEfHPtftypjjmrY5meL7WVleX8O3WEuQj6FHvazqie1fOEBAZJkjEITWCU32BiY-2TLX-SqUu1jIAsNorzhtd-MTeCpxkUxgOp1MT6N/s4032/Abe%20Lincoln%20signature.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdlzBEBrB6-RpHtevtqpBGQzCpem1dJB8a923cNYELa-mNrx-MKCwYW7AoP6GhiX_WVnZbG3RVENFbxfvKHiXgciEfHPtftypjjmrY5meL7WVleX8O3WEuQj6FHvazqie1fOEBAZJkjEITWCU32BiY-2TLX-SqUu1jIAsNorzhtd-MTeCpxkUxgOp1MT6N/w300-h400/Abe%20Lincoln%20signature.jpg" width="300" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj89yIaXjC96B49UUtRvmf2eXRQIiVMNqakHsgV01pEdPMP7-sCo66m8LM_qjGdo-f1r4jcIt9Qs6VT5sGQH0PTOUP4YU40zgzoIA1WCQqFhmO8K2WbS9ZCF_YYkcRFyiFot9G-fwo4_dH3Tz4j6Rxhv-RBGyNM0s8unYl3ALn7IAQSIzlNyOgKc1Cdqgju/s4032/Gideon%20Welles%20signature.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj89yIaXjC96B49UUtRvmf2eXRQIiVMNqakHsgV01pEdPMP7-sCo66m8LM_qjGdo-f1r4jcIt9Qs6VT5sGQH0PTOUP4YU40zgzoIA1WCQqFhmO8K2WbS9ZCF_YYkcRFyiFot9G-fwo4_dH3Tz4j6Rxhv-RBGyNM0s8unYl3ALn7IAQSIzlNyOgKc1Cdqgju/w300-h400/Gideon%20Welles%20signature.jpg" width="300" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">He commanded the marine detachment that served the quarterdeck pivot gun on board the U.S.S. Congress during the historic battle at Hampton Roads in March, 1862. The Confederates had seized the Union's ironclad, Merrimac, and sank the wooden Union ships Congress and Cumberland, making wooden fighting ships forever obsolete. He escaped the sinking Congress, however, and was described by a correspondent for the New York Herald thusly: </span></p><p><i><span style="font-family: georgia;">"This young officer was twenty-one years of age on the evening before the battle, and is said to have conducted himself with unusual bravery and coolness."</span></i></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Baker had also fought in the first battle of Bull Run, in which he was badly wounded and carried off the battlefield by his brother, John Pope Baker, who was a Cavalry officer. He served through the war and rose to the rank of captain. He was found dead in his quarters at the Marine Barracks, Boston Naval Yard, October 2, 1876, from the effects of Yellow Fever contracted during the war.</span></p>Shantybellumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10717453211744476149noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1463539586331841894.post-27526508622447952792021-05-24T20:51:00.005-05:002021-06-19T12:02:02.182-05:00Haunted by Love<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-u-xTrOIUj3Y/YKxaNjLlYqI/AAAAAAAADRY/rnI1Jbdhf7so6FBkBhnevLq7yAmo1FkhQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1163/Screen%2BShot%2B2021-05-24%2Bat%2B8.59.06%2BPM.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="876" data-original-width="1163" height="482" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-u-xTrOIUj3Y/YKxaNjLlYqI/AAAAAAAADRY/rnI1Jbdhf7so6FBkBhnevLq7yAmo1FkhQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h482/Screen%2BShot%2B2021-05-24%2Bat%2B8.59.06%2BPM.png" width="640" /></a></div><br /> I moved home because home was kind.<p></p><p>And I am home surrounded by all the things my ancestors held dear.</p><p>It is my job to hold them dear. To keep them for the next generation.</p><p>But all day they talk to me, my ancestors. They tell me to remember</p><p>the smell of melba toast in the oven. The smell of freshly made apple sauce</p><p>poured on top. A smell I will never know again </p><p>in a house no longer ours, but whose every creak and crevice is as </p><p>familiar as my own hand.</p><p><br /></p><p>They scold me for letting things slide on days when I just cannot make</p><p>the bed, cannot even leave it. Do that dish in the sink, remembering Annet </p><p>pouring boiling water over all the dishes once she'd finished washing, </p><p>the smell of her rubber gloves filling the kitchen.</p><p><br /></p><p>Daddy's barn burned this winter during the ice storm. A tragic, terrible</p><p>mistake made with the best intentions to keep the horses warm. They died. Children's pets.</p><p>The barn still had old toys I had left upstairs, confident I could go out and</p><p>see them once more. I want to tell Daddy the story of our great, great uncle </p><p>Robert, who slit his throat. He never knew. But Daddy died and it was too late to tell.</p><p><br /></p><p>I want to tell him of Henry Munger, who disappeared and was never seen again.</p><p>He was a mystery for generations.</p><p>I found out where he died and where he's buried, alone in a plot in Beaumont.</p><p>But I learned too late. How Great Uncle Alexander drank a bottle of carbolic acid when the head </p><p>injury he suffered proved too much to bear. Daddy knew none of these things and he</p><p>was ancient. He should've known.</p><p><br /></p><p>When Tommy Lu died and Daddy was bent with grief, I saw a taxidermied </p><p>chicken in an antique store. Daddy loved chickens almost more than anything. </p><p>So I bought the creature. Daddy kept it in the kitchen..</p><p>Today I pulled it down and dusted 8 years of dust from its feathers. And wanted to show him.</p><p>See? I kept it. For you. For love.</p><p><br /></p><p>These ghosts are with me always. Always. They never leave and I would be sad to see</p><p>them go. But they break my heart every day. For love. With whispers.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IC6zAggxlCc/YM4i74atMfI/AAAAAAAADSU/CR1jJCvfPMMBFwk08FrbYoEetcbjd8XqgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_1072.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IC6zAggxlCc/YM4i74atMfI/AAAAAAAADSU/CR1jJCvfPMMBFwk08FrbYoEetcbjd8XqgCLcBGAsYHQ/w300-h400/IMG_1072.jpeg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>Shantybellumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10717453211744476149noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1463539586331841894.post-44531970240366153062021-01-25T16:46:00.004-06:002021-01-25T16:47:25.083-06:00Waves<p><span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: georgia;"><i></i></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: georgia;"><i><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0oo2QA8LO0I/YA9JD_AjLLI/AAAAAAAADPY/Eu4J-BUDH6QF1Mc8lnWdRKK9jsrAbSsswCLcBGAsYHQ/s714/gri-photo-calo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="714" data-original-width="650" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0oo2QA8LO0I/YA9JD_AjLLI/AAAAAAAADPY/Eu4J-BUDH6QF1Mc8lnWdRKK9jsrAbSsswCLcBGAsYHQ/w582-h640/gri-photo-calo.jpg" width="582" /></a></i></span></div><span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: georgia;"><i><br /> <span style="font-size: 20px;">The years rush in like waves. </span></i></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: 20px;"><span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: georgia;"><i>They deposit living things, gasping</i></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 20px;"><span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: georgia;"><i>for air and empty shells </i></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 20px;"><span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: georgia;"><i>left to the elements —<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>for calamity</i></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 20px;"><span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: georgia;"><i> or discovery — </i></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 20px;"><span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: georgia;"><i>then suck back again, taking memories</i></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 20px;"><span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: georgia;"><i> and friends and loved ones </i></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 20px;"><span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: georgia;"><i>like sand, each pebble tugged and tossed, </i></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 20px;"><span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: georgia;"><i>polished and lost </i></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 20px;"><span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: georgia;"><i>on an infinite sea of time.</i></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 20px;"><span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: georgia;"><i>~ Elodie Pritchartt</i></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 20px;"><span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: georgia;"><i>01/25/21</i></span></span></p>Shantybellumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10717453211744476149noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1463539586331841894.post-1213224663030567662021-01-13T17:37:00.006-06:002022-04-16T07:51:23.485-05:00Conflagration<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-905nX3XCPG4/X_-EIicCJOI/AAAAAAAADO8/HwnKrUpTHvweSUPDy8H0f2nymkheLXIwACLcBGAsYHQ/s1200/PIXNIO-385148-1200x800.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="1200" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-905nX3XCPG4/X_-EIicCJOI/AAAAAAAADO8/HwnKrUpTHvweSUPDy8H0f2nymkheLXIwACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h426/PIXNIO-385148-1200x800.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><span color="var(--primary-text)" style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large; white-space: pre-wrap;">Conflagration</span><p></p><div><div dir="auto"><div class="ecm0bbzt hv4rvrfc e5nlhep0 dati1w0a" data-ad-comet-preview="message" data-ad-preview="message" id="jsc_c_96" style="padding: 4px 16px;"><div class="j83agx80 cbu4d94t ew0dbk1b irj2b8pg" style="display: flex; flex-direction: column; margin-bottom: -5px; margin-top: -5px;"><div class="qzhwtbm6 knvmm38d" style="margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 5px;"><span class="d2edcug0 hpfvmrgz qv66sw1b c1et5uql oi732d6d ik7dh3pa fgxwclzu a8c37x1j keod5gw0 nxhoafnm aigsh9s9 d9wwppkn fe6kdd0r mau55g9w c8b282yb iv3no6db jq4qci2q a3bd9o3v knj5qynh oo9gr5id hzawbc8m" color="var(--primary-text)" dir="auto" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; display: block; line-height: 1.3333; max-width: 100%; min-width: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; word-break: break-word;"><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">It rained yesterday. Strange.</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">I thought it would clean the air</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">but it smells more like ash than it did</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">before.</span></div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"> No scorched earth, I begged. Let’s</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">do this right. For once, do something right.</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">And so far, it’s worked. But</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">last night you showed your hand,</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">just a little. And I realized this</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">fragile peace hinges on my willingness to pay.</span></div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">I slept uneasy. I’m so close. It’s</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">nearly done. Hang on. But when I</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">look out the window, I can’t</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">tell if it’s sunrise or fire </span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">coming over the ridge</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">to light the way</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">or destroy us.</span></div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">We’re officially a disaster.</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Our home. This marriage.</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">And the world looks on</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">like rubbernecking drivers</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">on a crowded freeway.</span></div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">They talk of mopping up the mess.</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Starting fresh. But the air still smells</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">like smoke. Like a dragon sleeping</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">in its cave, waiting.</span></div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">The rain doesn’t wash it all away.</span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Just brings it to the door.</span></div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">November, 2007</span></div></div></span></div></div></div></div></div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><div class="stjgntxs ni8dbmo4 p13mx040 l82x9zwi uo3d90p7 h905i5nu monazrh9" style="border-radius: 0px 0px 8px 8px; font-family: inherit; min-height: 12px; overflow: hidden;"><div class="l9j0dhe7" style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 12px; position: relative;"><div class="bp9cbjyn m9osqain j83agx80 jq4qci2q bkfpd7mw a3bd9o3v kvgmc6g5 wkznzc2l oygrvhab dhix69tm jktsbyx5 rz4wbd8a osnr6wyh a8nywdso s1tcr66n" style="align-items: center; border-bottom: 1px solid var(--divider); color: var(--secondary-text); display: flex; font-family: inherit; font-size: 0.9375rem; justify-content: flex-end; line-height: 1.3333; margin: 0px 16px; padding: 10px 0px;"><div class="bp9cbjyn j83agx80 buofh1pr ni8dbmo4 stjgntxs" style="align-items: center; display: flex; flex-grow: 1; font-family: inherit; overflow: hidden;"><span aria-label="See who reacted to this" role="toolbar" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="bp9cbjyn j83agx80 b3onmgus" id="jsc_c_99" style="align-items: center; display: flex; font-family: inherit; padding-left: 4px;"><span class="np69z8it et4y5ytx j7g94pet b74d5cxt qw6c0r16 kb8x4rkr ed597pkb omcyoz59 goun2846 ccm00jje s44p3ltw mk2mc5f4 qxh1up0x qtyiw8t4 tpcyxxvw k0bpgpbk hm271qws rl04r1d5 l9j0dhe7 ov9facns kavbgo14" style="border-bottom-color: var(--card-background); border-left-color: var(--card-background); border-radius: 11px; border-right-color: var(--card-background); border-style: solid; border-top-color: var(--card-background); border-width: 2px; font-family: inherit; height: 18px; margin-left: -4px; position: relative; width: 18px; z-index: 2;"><span class="t0qjyqq4 jos75b7i j6sty90h kv0toi1t q9uorilb hm271qws ov9facns" style="border-radius: 9px; display: inline-block; font-family: inherit; height: 18px; width: 18px;"><span class="tojvnm2t a6sixzi8 abs2jz4q a8s20v7p t1p8iaqh k5wvi7nf q3lfd5jv pk4s997a bipmatt0 cebpdrjk qowsmv63 owwhemhu dp1hu0rb dhp61c6y iyyx5f41" style="align-items: inherit; align-self: inherit; display: inherit; flex-direction: inherit; flex: inherit; font-family: inherit; height: inherit; max-height: inherit; max-width: inherit; min-height: inherit; min-width: inherit; place-content: inherit; width: inherit;"><div aria-label="Like: 23 people" class="oajrlxb2 g5ia77u1 qu0x051f esr5mh6w e9989ue4 r7d6kgcz rq0escxv nhd2j8a9 nc684nl6 p7hjln8o kvgmc6g5 cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x jb3vyjys rz4wbd8a qt6c0cv9 a8nywdso i1ao9s8h esuyzwwr f1sip0of lzcic4wl l9j0dhe7 abiwlrkh p8dawk7l" role="button" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; background-color: transparent; border-color: initial; border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; cursor: pointer; display: inline; font-family: inherit; list-style: none; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; position: relative; text-align: inherit; touch-action: manipulation; user-select: none;" tabindex="0"><img class="j1lvzwm4" height="18" src="data:image/svg+xml,%3csvg xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2000/svg' xmlns:xlink='http://www.w3.org/1999/xlink' viewBox='0 0 16 16'%3e%3cdefs%3e%3clinearGradient id='a' x1='50%25' x2='50%25' y1='0%25' y2='100%25'%3e%3cstop offset='0%25' stop-color='%2318AFFF'/%3e%3cstop offset='100%25' stop-color='%230062DF'/%3e%3c/linearGradient%3e%3cfilter id='c' width='118.8%25' height='118.8%25' x='-9.4%25' y='-9.4%25' filterUnits='objectBoundingBox'%3e%3cfeGaussianBlur in='SourceAlpha' result='shadowBlurInner1' stdDeviation='1'/%3e%3cfeOffset dy='-1' in='shadowBlurInner1' result='shadowOffsetInner1'/%3e%3cfeComposite in='shadowOffsetInner1' in2='SourceAlpha' k2='-1' k3='1' operator='arithmetic' result='shadowInnerInner1'/%3e%3cfeColorMatrix in='shadowInnerInner1' values='0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0.299356041 0 0 0 0 0.681187726 0 0 0 0.3495684 0'/%3e%3c/filter%3e%3cpath id='b' d='M8 0a8 8 0 00-8 8 8 8 0 1016 0 8 8 0 00-8-8z'/%3e%3c/defs%3e%3cg fill='none'%3e%3cuse fill='url(%23a)' xlink:href='%23b'/%3e%3cuse fill='black' filter='url(%23c)' xlink:href='%23b'/%3e%3cpath fill='white' d='M12.162 7.338c.176.123.338.245.338.674 0 .43-.229.604-.474.725a.73.73 0 01.089.546c-.077.344-.392.611-.672.69.121.194.159.385.015.62-.185.295-.346.407-1.058.407H7.5c-.988 0-1.5-.546-1.5-1V7.665c0-1.23 1.467-2.275 1.467-3.13L7.361 3.47c-.005-.065.008-.224.058-.27.08-.079.301-.2.635-.2.218 0 .363.041.534.123.581.277.732.978.732 1.542 0 .271-.414 1.083-.47 1.364 0 0 .867-.192 1.879-.199 1.061-.006 1.749.19 1.749.842 0 .261-.219.523-.316.666zM3.6 7h.8a.6.6 0 01.6.6v3.8a.6.6 0 01-.6.6h-.8a.6.6 0 01-.6-.6V7.6a.6.6 0 01.6-.6z'/%3e%3c/g%3e%3c/svg%3e" style="border: 0px; vertical-align: top;" width="18" /></div></span></span></span><span class="np69z8it et4y5ytx j7g94pet b74d5cxt qw6c0r16 kb8x4rkr ed597pkb omcyoz59 goun2846 ccm00jje s44p3ltw mk2mc5f4 qxh1up0x qtyiw8t4 tpcyxxvw k0bpgpbk hm271qws rl04r1d5 l9j0dhe7 ov9facns tkr6xdv7" style="border-bottom-color: var(--card-background); border-left-color: var(--card-background); border-radius: 11px; border-right-color: var(--card-background); border-style: solid; border-top-color: var(--card-background); border-width: 2px; font-family: inherit; height: 18px; margin-left: -4px; position: relative; width: 18px; z-index: 1;"><span class="t0qjyqq4 jos75b7i j6sty90h kv0toi1t q9uorilb hm271qws ov9facns" style="border-radius: 9px; display: inline-block; font-family: inherit; height: 18px; width: 18px;"><span class="tojvnm2t a6sixzi8 abs2jz4q a8s20v7p t1p8iaqh k5wvi7nf q3lfd5jv pk4s997a bipmatt0 cebpdrjk qowsmv63 owwhemhu dp1hu0rb dhp61c6y iyyx5f41" style="align-items: inherit; align-self: inherit; display: inherit; flex-direction: inherit; flex: inherit; font-family: inherit; height: inherit; max-height: inherit; max-width: inherit; min-height: inherit; min-width: inherit; place-content: inherit; width: inherit;"><div aria-label="Love: 6 people" class="oajrlxb2 g5ia77u1 qu0x051f esr5mh6w e9989ue4 r7d6kgcz rq0escxv nhd2j8a9 nc684nl6 p7hjln8o kvgmc6g5 cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x jb3vyjys rz4wbd8a qt6c0cv9 a8nywdso i1ao9s8h esuyzwwr f1sip0of lzcic4wl l9j0dhe7 abiwlrkh p8dawk7l" role="button" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; background-color: transparent; border-color: initial; border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; cursor: pointer; display: inline; font-family: inherit; list-style: none; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; position: relative; text-align: inherit; touch-action: manipulation; user-select: none;" tabindex="0"><img class="j1lvzwm4" height="18" src="data:image/svg+xml,%3csvg xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2000/svg' xmlns:xlink='http://www.w3.org/1999/xlink' viewBox='0 0 16 16'%3e%3cdefs%3e%3clinearGradient id='a' x1='50%25' x2='50%25' y1='0%25' y2='100%25'%3e%3cstop offset='0%25' stop-color='%23FF6680'/%3e%3cstop offset='100%25' stop-color='%23E61739'/%3e%3c/linearGradient%3e%3cfilter id='c' width='118.8%25' height='118.8%25' x='-9.4%25' y='-9.4%25' filterUnits='objectBoundingBox'%3e%3cfeGaussianBlur in='SourceAlpha' result='shadowBlurInner1' stdDeviation='1'/%3e%3cfeOffset dy='-1' in='shadowBlurInner1' result='shadowOffsetInner1'/%3e%3cfeComposite in='shadowOffsetInner1' in2='SourceAlpha' k2='-1' k3='1' operator='arithmetic' result='shadowInnerInner1'/%3e%3cfeColorMatrix in='shadowInnerInner1' values='0 0 0 0 0.710144928 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0.117780134 0 0 0 0.349786932 0'/%3e%3c/filter%3e%3cpath id='b' d='M8 0a8 8 0 100 16A8 8 0 008 0z'/%3e%3c/defs%3e%3cg fill='none'%3e%3cuse fill='url(%23a)' xlink:href='%23b'/%3e%3cuse fill='black' filter='url(%23c)' xlink:href='%23b'/%3e%3cpath fill='white' d='M10.473 4C8.275 4 8 5.824 8 5.824S7.726 4 5.528 4c-2.114 0-2.73 2.222-2.472 3.41C3.736 10.55 8 12.75 8 12.75s4.265-2.2 4.945-5.34c.257-1.188-.36-3.41-2.472-3.41'/%3e%3c/g%3e%3c/svg%3e" style="border: 0px; vertical-align: top;" width="18" /></div></span></span></span></span></span><div style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="tojvnm2t a6sixzi8 abs2jz4q a8s20v7p t1p8iaqh k5wvi7nf q3lfd5jv pk4s997a bipmatt0 cebpdrjk qowsmv63 owwhemhu dp1hu0rb dhp61c6y iyyx5f41" style="align-items: inherit; align-self: inherit; display: inherit; flex-direction: inherit; flex: inherit; font-family: inherit; height: inherit; max-height: inherit; max-width: inherit; min-height: inherit; min-width: inherit; place-content: inherit; width: inherit;"><div class="oajrlxb2 g5ia77u1 qu0x051f esr5mh6w e9989ue4 r7d6kgcz rq0escxv nhd2j8a9 a8c37x1j p7hjln8o kvgmc6g5 cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x jb3vyjys rz4wbd8a qt6c0cv9 a8nywdso i1ao9s8h esuyzwwr f1sip0of lzcic4wl l9j0dhe7 abiwlrkh p8dawk7l gmql0nx0 ce9h75a5 ni8dbmo4 stjgntxs" role="button" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; background-color: transparent; border-color: initial; border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: inherit; cursor: pointer; font-family: inherit; list-style: none; margin: 0px; max-height: 1.3333em; outline: none; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; text-align: inherit; touch-action: manipulation; user-select: none;" tabindex="0"><span aria-hidden="true" class="bzsjyuwj ni8dbmo4 stjgntxs ltmttdrg gjzvkazv" style="float: left; font-family: inherit; overflow: hidden; text-overflow: ellipsis; width: 100px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="gpro0wi8 pcp91wgn" style="font-family: inherit; padding-left: 6px;">29</span></span></span><span class="gpro0wi8 cwj9ozl2 bzsjyuwj ja2t1vim" style="background-color: var(--card-background); float: left; font-family: inherit; margin-left: -100px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="pcp91wgn" style="font-family: inherit; padding-left: 6px;">Joe Collins, Jessica Fleming Crawford and 27 others</span></span></span></div></span></div></div><div class="bp9cbjyn j83agx80 pfnyh3mw p1ueia1e" style="align-items: center; display: flex; flex-shrink: 0; font-family: inherit; height: 22px;"><div class="gtad4xkn" style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 7px;"><div class="oajrlxb2 g5ia77u1 qu0x051f esr5mh6w e9989ue4 r7d6kgcz rq0escxv nhd2j8a9 nc684nl6 p7hjln8o kvgmc6g5 cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x jb3vyjys rz4wbd8a qt6c0cv9 a8nywdso i1ao9s8h esuyzwwr f1sip0of lzcic4wl l9j0dhe7 abiwlrkh gpro0wi8 dwo3fsh8 ow4ym5g4 auili1gw du4w35lb gmql0nx0" id="jsc_c_98" role="button" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; appearance: none; background-color: transparent; border-color: initial; border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: inherit; cursor: pointer; display: inline; font-family: inherit; list-style: none; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; position: relative; text-align: inherit; touch-action: manipulation; user-select: none; z-index: 0;" tabindex="0"><span class="d2edcug0 hpfvmrgz qv66sw1b c1et5uql oi732d6d ik7dh3pa fgxwclzu a8c37x1j keod5gw0 nxhoafnm aigsh9s9 d9wwppkn fe6kdd0r mau55g9w c8b282yb iv3no6db jq4qci2q a3bd9o3v knj5qynh m9osqain" color="var(--secondary-text)" dir="auto" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; display: block; font-family: inherit; font-size: 0.9375rem; line-height: 1.3333; max-width: 100%; min-width: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; word-break: break-word;">2 Comments</span></div></div><div class="gtad4xkn" style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 7px;"><span class="tojvnm2t a6sixzi8 abs2jz4q a8s20v7p t1p8iaqh k5wvi7nf q3lfd5jv pk4s997a bipmatt0 cebpdrjk qowsmv63 owwhemhu dp1hu0rb dhp61c6y iyyx5f41" style="align-items: inherit; align-self: inherit; display: inherit; flex-direction: inherit; flex: inherit; font-family: inherit; height: inherit; max-height: inherit; max-width: inherit; min-height: inherit; min-width: inherit; place-content: inherit; width: inherit;"><div class="oajrlxb2 g5ia77u1 qu0x051f esr5mh6w e9989ue4 r7d6kgcz rq0escxv nhd2j8a9 nc684nl6 p7hjln8o kvgmc6g5 cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x jb3vyjys rz4wbd8a qt6c0cv9 a8nywdso i1ao9s8h esuyzwwr f1sip0of lzcic4wl l9j0dhe7 abiwlrkh gpro0wi8 dwo3fsh8 ow4ym5g4 auili1gw du4w35lb gmql0nx0" role="button" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; appearance: none; background-color: transparent; border-color: initial; border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: inherit; cursor: pointer; display: inline; font-family: inherit; list-style: none; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; position: relative; text-align: inherit; touch-action: manipulation; user-select: none; z-index: 0;" tabindex="0"><span class="d2edcug0 hpfvmrgz qv66sw1b c1et5uql oi732d6d ik7dh3pa fgxwclzu a8c37x1j keod5gw0 nxhoafnm aigsh9s9 d9wwppkn fe6kdd0r mau55g9w c8b282yb iv3no6db jq4qci2q a3bd9o3v knj5qynh m9osqain" color="var(--secondary-text)" dir="auto" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; display: block; font-family: inherit; font-size: 0.9375rem; line-height: 1.3333; max-width: 100%; min-width: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; word-break: break-word;">1 Share</span></div></span></div></div></div></div><div class="a8nywdso e5nlhep0 rz4wbd8a ecm0bbzt jklb3kyz ozuftl9m oygrvhab tvfksri0 kvgmc6g5 j83agx80" style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; display: flex; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px 12px; min-height: 32px; padding: 4px 0px;"><div class="ewlkfwdl buofh1pr btwxx1t3 j83agx80 bp9cbjyn" style="align-items: center; display: flex; flex-direction: row; flex-grow: 1; font-family: inherit; order: 1;"><span class="bp9cbjyn j83agx80 rj1gh0hx buofh1pr pfnyh3mw taijpn5t gfay22hk i3s4pi26 otbi8bnk gj36ivs1 p2cu3d7g p8dawk7l" style="align-items: center; display: flex; flex: 1 0 0px; font-family: inherit; justify-content: center;"><div aria-label="Send this to friends or post it on your timeline." class="oajrlxb2 gs1a9yip g5ia77u1 mtkw9kbi tlpljxtp qensuy8j ppp5ayq2 goun2846 ccm00jje s44p3ltw mk2mc5f4 rt8b4zig n8ej3o3l agehan2d sk4xxmp2 rq0escxv nhd2j8a9 j83agx80 mg4g778l btwxx1t3 pfnyh3mw p7hjln8o kvgmc6g5 cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x tgvbjcpo hpfvmrgz jb3vyjys rz4wbd8a qt6c0cv9 a8nywdso l9j0dhe7 i1ao9s8h esuyzwwr f1sip0of du4w35lb lzcic4wl abiwlrkh p8dawk7l" role="button" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; align-items: stretch; background-color: transparent; border-bottom-color: var(--always-dark-overlay); border-left-color: var(--always-dark-overlay); border-right-color: var(--always-dark-overlay); border-style: solid; border-top-color: var(--always-dark-overlay); border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; cursor: pointer; display: flex; flex-basis: auto; flex-direction: row; flex-shrink: 0; font-family: inherit; list-style: none; margin: 0px; min-height: 0px; min-width: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; position: relative; text-align: inherit; touch-action: manipulation; user-select: none; z-index: 0;" tabindex="0"><div class="bp9cbjyn m9osqain j83agx80 rj1gh0hx buofh1pr pfnyh3mw jq4qci2q lrazzd5p k7cz35w2 taijpn5t jiuqdcnw jb3vyjys n8tt0mok qt6c0cv9 hyh9befq l9j0dhe7 esuyzwwr" style="align-items: center; color: var(--secondary-text); display: flex; flex: 1 0 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: 0.9375rem; font-weight: 600; height: 32px; justify-content: center; line-height: 1; padding: 0px 2px; position: relative;"><div class="j83agx80 fv0vnmcu" style="display: flex; font-family: inherit; margin-right: 6px;"><i class="hu5pjgll m6k467ps sp_ScsxGf-EclY_2x sx_8339d7" style="background-image: url("https://static.xx.fbcdn.net/rsrc.php/v3/yG/r/Jv3k4Yk_TuM.png"); background-position: 0px -317px; background-repeat: no-repeat; background-size: 25px 920px; display: inline-block; filter: var(--filter-secondary-icon); height: 18px; vertical-align: -0.25em; width: 18px;"></i></div>Share</div></div></span></div></div><div class="cwj9ozl2 tvmbv18p" style="color: #1c1e21; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin-bottom: 4px;"><span class="rfua0xdk pmk7jnqg pfx3uekm ay7djpcl ema1e40h q45zohi1" data-html2canvas-ignore="true" style="clip-path: inset(50%); clip: rect(0px, 0px, 0px, 0px); font-family: inherit; height: 1px; overflow: hidden; position: absolute; width: 1px;"></span></div></div></div>Shantybellumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10717453211744476149noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1463539586331841894.post-34049100081010157262020-12-09T17:17:00.006-06:002020-12-09T23:35:19.417-06:00 Passion Play<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TI_AJ8-wLMw/X9Fal-_bMNI/AAAAAAAADOk/V9_cvqZdRaY_XochWlthkFw4jZKGOnAyACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/annie-spratt-fDghTk7Typw-unsplash.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1387" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TI_AJ8-wLMw/X9Fal-_bMNI/AAAAAAAADOk/V9_cvqZdRaY_XochWlthkFw4jZKGOnAyACLcBGAsYHQ/w434-h640/annie-spratt-fDghTk7Typw-unsplash.jpg" width="434" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto"><i><span style="font-family: georgia;">"Their souls entwined," the poem read,</span></i></div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto"><i><span style="font-family: georgia;">and to the azure skies they sped.</span></i></div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto"><i><span style="font-family: georgia;">A poem's no good unless it's spent</span></i></div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto"><i><span style="font-family: georgia;">on passion, pain and lovers rent</span></i></div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto"><i><span style="font-family: georgia;">from others' arms before its time,</span></i></div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto"><i><span style="font-family: georgia;">all penned in verse, both free and rhyme.</span></i></div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto"><i><span style="font-family: georgia;">I don't remember poems like this</span></i></div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto"><i><span style="font-family: georgia;">in English class, all filled with bliss.</span></i></div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto"><i><span style="font-family: georgia;">Our poems were writ on roads and mice</span></i></div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto"><i><span style="font-family: georgia;">all forked and timorous (and filled with lice).</span></i></div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto"><i><span style="font-family: georgia;">These sexy poems are more my ken</span></i></div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto"><i><span style="font-family: georgia;">all wet and slippery, skin to skin.</span></i></div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto"><i><span style="font-family: georgia;">Where brown is never brown, but bouillion</span></i></div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto"><i><span style="font-family: georgia;">and blue is nothing if not cerulean.</span></i></div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto"><i><span style="font-family: georgia;">And life is heightened by degree.</span></i></div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto"><i><span style="font-family: georgia;">All senses more... sensitivity?</span></i></div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto"><i><span style="font-family: georgia;">So you touch me and I'll touch you,</span></i></div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto"><i><span style="font-family: georgia;">And 'ere you know it we're all through.</span></i></div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto"><i><span style="font-family: georgia;">And smoking cigarettes and spent.</span></i></div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto"><i><span style="font-family: georgia;">If only poems could pay the rent.</span></i></div><div dir="auto"><i><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></i></div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto"><i><span style="font-family: georgia;">~ Elodie Pritchartt</span></i></div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto"><i><span style="font-family: georgia;">First poem I ever wrote, circa 1994</span></i></div><div dir="auto"><i><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></i></div><div dir="auto"><i><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></i></div><div dir="auto"><i><span style="background-color: whitesmoke; color: #111111; font-family: -apple-system, system-ui, "San Francisco", "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Ubuntu, Roboto, Noto, "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: nowrap;">Photo by </span><a href="https://unsplash.com/@anniespratt?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText" style="background-color: whitesmoke; box-sizing: border-box; color: #767676; font-family: -apple-system, system-ui, "San Francisco", "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Ubuntu, Roboto, Noto, "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-decoration-skip-ink: auto; transition: color 0.1s ease-in-out 0s, opacity 0.1s ease-in-out 0s; white-space: nowrap;">Annie Spratt</a><span style="background-color: whitesmoke; color: #111111; font-family: -apple-system, system-ui, "San Francisco", "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Ubuntu, Roboto, Noto, "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: nowrap;"> on </span><a href="https://unsplash.com/s/photos/love?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText" style="background-color: whitesmoke; box-sizing: border-box; color: #767676; font-family: -apple-system, system-ui, "San Francisco", "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Ubuntu, Roboto, Noto, "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-decoration-skip-ink: auto; transition: color 0.1s ease-in-out 0s, opacity 0.1s ease-in-out 0s; white-space: nowrap;">Unsplash</a></i></div></div>Shantybellumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10717453211744476149noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1463539586331841894.post-31283681389386023952020-12-08T21:42:00.000-06:002020-12-08T21:42:58.558-06:00Suicide Note<p> So. Time for bed.</p><p>Two Xanaxes, three Unisoms and</p><p>almost a fifth of Maker's Mark</p><p>will guarantee </p><p>a dreamless, thoughtless sleep.</p><p><br /></p><p>If I don't happen to wake tomorrow,</p><p>please know that it's okay.</p><p>I wasn't that thrilled with </p><p>waking anyway.</p><p><br /></p><p>I didn't do it on purpose </p><p>but I didn't do it by accident</p><p>either.</p><p><br /></p><p>Just know that I really did</p><p>love you so much more</p><p>than you realized,</p><p><br /></p><p>and I'm really, really sorry </p><p>for the pain I've caused.</p><p><br /></p><p>I'm so, so sorry.</p><p><br /></p><p>Go. Live your life.</p><p>Grab every taste of it.</p><p><br /></p><p>And know that I am here</p><p>where I want to be</p><p>in the good times </p><p>of your memory.</p><p><br /></p><p>I love you. </p><p>I do.</p><p>But I couldn't love you enough</p><p>to keep living in such</p><p>a painful place.</p><p><br /></p><p>And who's to say we won't see each other in </p><p>the ever after where</p><p>all is forgiven and all is forgotten?</p><p><br /></p><p>Editor's Note: Please don't take this as an actual suicide note. It's not. I have no plan to end my existence on this mortal coil. But it HAS occurred to me on more than one occasion. It does run in the family. I just want to put this out into the universe in case something should happen and I can't take it back. It's in my genes. And it is the ultimate end. I will never see any of you again, although I hope that you remember that I loved you more than I can say.</p><p>In the meantime, I'll see you tomorrow.</p><p><br /></p>Shantybellumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10717453211744476149noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1463539586331841894.post-6487958269215599432020-10-03T18:45:00.003-05:002020-10-04T09:58:23.103-05:00Catfish, 1976<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fSfRhNfWL5s/X3kM15dypYI/AAAAAAAADNo/8ZbkTRkExvwH0Y4gXOvcmXs3SRupugy2QCLcBGAsYHQ/s1203/Screen%2BShot%2B2020-10-03%2Bat%2B6.42.10%2BPM.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1203" data-original-width="1200" height="435" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fSfRhNfWL5s/X3kM15dypYI/AAAAAAAADNo/8ZbkTRkExvwH0Y4gXOvcmXs3SRupugy2QCLcBGAsYHQ/w434-h435/Screen%2BShot%2B2020-10-03%2Bat%2B6.42.10%2BPM.png" width="434" /></a></div><br /> <span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Okay, so....I can't remember if I've told y'all this. Or if I SHOULD tell y'all this. But....</span><p></p><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">Way back when I was at Ole Miss I lived in the Roundhouse Apartments. They were these one- and two-story apartments that were round. The nicest thing about them was that they were situated in a beautiful, wooded area close to campus.</div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">I and my two roommates had the incredible luck of getting a one-story roundhouse in the very back of the development, nestled right in the woods.</div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">At night when the weather was nice, I would open my window to sleep among the sounds of the night creatures. Every morning, I would wake up to find about four or five feral cats in bed with me. The minute I moved, they'd freak out and jump back out the window, never to be seen again until the next morning when it would happen all over again.</div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">Anyway, one day a really sweet ginger tabby showed up with a collar. I started feeding it and petting it and letting it make itself at home. Then he'd disappear for a day or two. One day, he returned and I noticed something wrapped around his collar. It was a note:</div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">In a very sweet, rounded, female hand, it said, "Whoever is taking care of my kitty, thank you so much. I would love to meet you." She dotted her i's with little hearts. It was so cute.</div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">So, naturally, being the evil, wicked person I am, I wrote a note back, and wrapped it around his collar. In very masculine, blocky, all-caps writing, I wrote. "Yeah. Hey. I've been taking care of your cat. He's cool.'</div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">We went back and forth, she wanting to get to know me better, and I telling her I was ex-Marine and working my way through school. Needless to say, the notes got kinda personal.</div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">Then one night, little long-haired, blonde feminine me was at a party and started talking to some girl who informed me she lived at the roundhouse apartments. I can't remember how, but she told me about this ginger cat she had. </div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">After awhile, I figured it out and told her I was the ex-Marine who'd been taking care of her cat. Then I started giggling uncontrollably.</div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">You never saw such a hissy fit in your life! It was like Catfish before the internet. Now, I don't know if that makes me evil or just funny, but I thought it was hilarious. I couldn't understand why she didn't think it was as funny as I did.</div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">So. Whatever. Be careful with your cat. That's all I can say. I still miss that little ginger bastard.</div></div>Shantybellumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10717453211744476149noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1463539586331841894.post-82901408225874752772020-09-18T20:09:00.000-05:002020-09-18T20:09:24.227-05:00Time to Go<p>Everything dies,</p><p><br /></p><p>Even you. </p><p><br /></p><p>But he knew </p><p>he only had to touch</p><p>one, anyone, to send it </p><p>away. To make it</p><p>die.</p><p><br /></p><p>It's what he did</p><p>as though it couldn't</p><p>be helped.</p><p><br /></p><p>It was written</p><p>in his DNA.</p><p>Twisted lines of </p><p>data, always</p><p>twisting more, the more</p><p>he cared.</p><p><br /></p><p>The world burns, </p><p>Hate. Anger.</p><p>Grief.</p><p><br /></p><p>His own light</p><p>is growing dim.</p><p><br /></p><p>He longs for</p><p>release but</p><p>too stubborn to</p><p>recognize when</p><p>it's time to say goodbye.</p><p><br /></p><p>So it twists </p><p>and in its twisting</p><p>wishes for a </p><p>better place</p><p>to be.</p><p><br /></p><p>Meanwhile</p><p>There is sleep.</p><p><br /></p><p>~ September 17, 2020</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Shantybellumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10717453211744476149noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1463539586331841894.post-32135586330906079022020-09-14T20:13:00.005-05:002020-09-14T20:14:34.210-05:00Everyday Tragedies<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KQckkXJ7goY/X2AU4vBBtmI/AAAAAAAADNU/9Z1-fAddGts3NaTOw25VBS3YosmRhzACwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/339717_3046592767765_2004369167_o.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="469" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KQckkXJ7goY/X2AU4vBBtmI/AAAAAAAADNU/9Z1-fAddGts3NaTOw25VBS3YosmRhzACwCLcBGAsYHQ/w625-h469/339717_3046592767765_2004369167_o.jpg" width="625" /></a></div><br /> <span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-size: 14px;">Effortless,</span><p></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-size: 14px; margin: 6px 0px;">they smile,<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit;"><br />they laugh, They talk.</span></p><div class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; display: inline; font-size: 14px;"><p style="font-family: inherit; margin: 0px 0px 6px;"><br />Something breaks.<br />The dam crumbles.</p><p style="font-family: inherit; margin: 6px 0px;">The truth pours out.</p><p style="font-family: inherit; margin: 6px 0px;">Tears. Everyday tragedies.</p><p style="font-family: inherit; margin: 6px 0px;">Still they laugh.</p><p style="font-family: inherit; margin: 6px 0px;">Still they smile.</p><p style="font-family: inherit; margin: 6px 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: inherit; margin: 6px 0px;">So easy to ignore.<br />So hard to forget.</p><p style="font-family: inherit; margin: 6px 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: inherit; margin: 6px 0px;">How long<br />will it take<br />For pain to right itself?</p><p style="font-family: inherit; margin: 6px 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: inherit; margin: 6px 0px;">For others to forget?</p><p style="font-family: inherit; margin: 6px 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: inherit; margin: 6px 0px;">Sleep.</p><p style="font-family: inherit; margin: 6px 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: inherit; margin: 6px 0px;">Sleep until the silence<br />Contains it all,</p><p style="font-family: inherit; margin: 6px 0px;">until all is right in</p><p style="font-family: inherit; margin: 6px 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">your sleep world</span></p><p style="font-family: inherit; margin: 6px 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: inherit; margin: 6px 0px;">Every tragedy<br />is just another day.</p><p style="font-family: inherit; margin: 6px 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: inherit; margin: 6px 0px;">~ Sept 14, 2016</p></div>Shantybellumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10717453211744476149noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1463539586331841894.post-31607345668098154132020-08-04T12:17:00.006-05:002020-08-04T12:33:25.268-05:00A Dog's Life<p style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin: 0px 0px 6px;"><font face="georgia"><i>If I had my druthers, I'd like to come back as my dog in my next life. I've never seen anyone so eager to get a bite to eat. When it's dinnertime, she tells me by dancing around the room singing, "Woo-woo! Woo-Woo!"</i></font></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin: 0px 0px 6px;"><font face="georgia"><i><br /></i></font></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin: 6px 0px;"><font face="georgia"><i>Oh, to be able to eat with such joy and abandon, making little grunting sounds and licking the plate clean. She just finished my breakfast burrito, devouring the whole thing while expertly managing to leave the jalapeños, then climbing up onto the sofa to say <span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">thank you while bathing the air with unembarrassed poots containing the unfiltered stink of happiness.</span></i></font></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin: 6px 0px;"><font face="georgia"><i><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><br /></span></i></font></p><div class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; display: inline;"><p style="margin: 0px 0px 6px;"><font face="georgia"><i>Every bite I eat is fraught with guilt. I wear clothes designed to disguise the evidence of my appetite while she waggles her little fat bottom proudly and happily.</i></font></p><p style="margin: 0px 0px 6px;"><font face="georgia"><i><br /></i></font></p><p style="margin: 6px 0px;"><font face="georgia"><i>What a life that would be. What a world.</i></font><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-X60x22iaAZI/XymXSwz693I/AAAAAAAADMg/WE8QlJOKkosqono0g7M57QCaY1lJcVPlQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_0600.jpeg" style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="800" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-X60x22iaAZI/XymXSwz693I/AAAAAAAADMg/WE8QlJOKkosqono0g7M57QCaY1lJcVPlQCLcBGAsYHQ/w600-h800/IMG_0600.jpeg" width="600" /></a></p></div>Shantybellumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10717453211744476149noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1463539586331841894.post-55136929248462150402020-07-18T12:58:00.001-05:002020-08-05T20:52:03.152-05:00Unbearable Happiness<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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So here we are, all cozy warm<br />and wrapped in secret dread<br />that this might work<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit;"><br />and now instead<br />of rejection's shiny hook<br />on which to hang our failed<br />potential we must face<br />the possibility that this<br />isn't what we wanted, after all.</span></div>
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Happiness, that angry bear<br />stomps down the hall to maul<br />our expectations, fling our<br />sorry asses out the door<br />and make us look at what<br />we've done and haven't done before.</div>
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It's not too late to muck this up<br />if angst is what you crave.<br />Just save yourself and run.<br />The bear has only just begun<br />to tear your shattered life.<br />The wives who left you<br />crying on the floor can<br />stay, replay your failures one by one<br />and give you what you need.</div>
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Just say the word, I'll bleed,<br />but tell me now before<br />I've bled too much. My life<br />is such a clean, blank page.<br />Come help me fill it, if you want.<br />I'm here; I'm near, but time<br />is running short.</div>
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And bears are wild things,<br />quick and fleet, can disappear<br />before you've glimpsed<br />them, hairy, hoary, clumsy, big<br />and scary like first days of school.</div>
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They learn to dance between<br />the aisles and listen for the bees,<br />delicate and fragile in their way.<br />Just say if this is what you want<br />and I will watch the bees.<br />The bear is yours today.</div>
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Shantybellumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10717453211744476149noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1463539586331841894.post-58056129898384351702019-12-28T11:06:00.000-06:002019-12-28T11:06:09.020-06:00Aye Dee Dee<div class="l_1ib71z0_e0 r_1ib71z53lv clearfix" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.8); color: #1d2129; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin-bottom: -1px; zoom: 1;">
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: inherit;">That moment when Boyfriend asks what I did with the doggie treats.</span></h5>
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Me: (yelling from the other room) They're on the counter!</div>
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Boyfriend: What counter?</div>
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Me: The peninsula! The long counter!</div>
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Boyfriend: No, they're not! Where are they?</div>
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Me: Heavy sigh. (mumbling to myself) Men. They think the uterus is a homing device. Dragging myself out of bed at the crack of 10:45 to go show him. They're right...where are they? I just had them a minute ago.</div>
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Boyfriend: (Handing me a cup of coffee.) See?</div>
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Me (looking all over the house) Well, this is the mystery of of the century.</div>
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Boyfriend: Goodbye. I'm going out.</div>
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Me: Bring me some breakfast from the Mexican place?</div>
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Boyfriend: No! I go there on Sunday.</div>
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Me: Pleeeeeease???</div>
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Boyfriend: No!</div>
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Me: Pleeeeeease???</div>
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Boyfriend: No! There's nothing you can say that will make me go there.</div>
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Me: Pleeeeeease???</div>
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Boyfriend: Dammit, Dee!</div>
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Me: Don't forget to tell them no jalopeños.</div>
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Boyfriend: Sigh. Bye.</div>
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Me: I open the silverware drawer. The dog treats. I put the dog treats in the silverware drawer. Forgot to take my ADHD meds this morning.</div>
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Shantybellumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10717453211744476149noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1463539586331841894.post-26537025906685665102019-10-31T13:13:00.002-05:002019-10-31T13:13:53.223-05:00Still Life<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ez-SCEXoJT0/XbsiU0vJ5vI/AAAAAAAADJw/HMSPnZthW5ARYByK-Lk_6gun_8YMGSidQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2019-10-30%2Bat%2B1.06.35%2BPM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1196" data-original-width="954" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ez-SCEXoJT0/XbsiU0vJ5vI/AAAAAAAADJw/HMSPnZthW5ARYByK-Lk_6gun_8YMGSidQCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/Screen%2BShot%2B2019-10-30%2Bat%2B1.06.35%2BPM.png" width="510" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Envy" by Kevin Brodeur, 2019, Natchez, Mississippi. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span id="goog_1955898139"></span>Kevin said about his painting: "It was that moment I looked at my green Envy Zinnias and my pink Zinnias, and they became one."Shantybellumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10717453211744476149noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1463539586331841894.post-5514210357158491612019-09-15T17:01:00.001-05:002019-09-15T17:54:39.303-05:00Sacagawea Shapiro<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Wy41Q2DVFgI/XX6zpw5AD8I/AAAAAAAADJA/lVx1ge5oKSwcn3cN4dnTNPNwpAFbkdfLACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/iStock-1061434830.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="425" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Wy41Q2DVFgI/XX6zpw5AD8I/AAAAAAAADJA/lVx1ge5oKSwcn3cN4dnTNPNwpAFbkdfLACLcBGAsYHQ/s640/iStock-1061434830.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #666666; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: 1em;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><i>I have this friend who's one of the funniest people I know. Here's an example: We were visiting at The Eola Hotel one night and she's talking about this guy she <span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">knows.</span></i></span></div>
<div class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #666666; display: inline;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><i></i></span><br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: 1em;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><i>Rachel: Well, you know, he's, like, really cool. He's a marine or navy seal or something and he actually killed Saddam Hussein's accountant.</i></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><i>
</i></span>
<div style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: 1em;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><i>Me:</i></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><i>
<div style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: 1em;">
Rachel:</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: 1em;">
Me: He killed who?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: 1em;">
Rachel: Saddam Hussein's accountant.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: 1em;">
Julie the Bartender: What was he doing? Crunching the numbers or something?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: 1em;">
Me: I mean, yeah. How dangerous can an accountant be? Did he take away his calculator or something?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: 1em;">
Rachel: Well, I dunno. But he was SADAM HUSSEIN'S accountant... </div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: 1em;">
Me:</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: 1em;">
Rachel...And I feel really bad about shooting him (the guy who shot Saddam Hussein's accountant) that one time.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: 1em;">
Tommy: You SHOT him??</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: 1em;">
Me: You SHOT him? Where??</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: 1em;">
Rachel: In the back Forty. The pasture.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: 1em;">
Me:</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: 1em;">
Rachel: Well, we were bird hunting and there was this low-flying bird just over a hill.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: 1em;">
Tommy: You mean you Dick Cheney'd him?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: 1em;">
Rachel: Yeah.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: 1em;">
The whole night was like that. She's part Indian and part jewish. I mean, she could be a jewish Indian princess. We decided she should do a standup routine and call herself Sacagawea Shapiro.</div>
</i></span></div>
Shantybellumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10717453211744476149noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1463539586331841894.post-33108225951687216732019-08-24T20:37:00.003-05:002019-10-31T13:55:57.752-05:00Waiting for Release<div class="_4r_y" id="u_fetchstream_15_6" style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 12px; height: 0px; left: 0px; margin-top: -12px; overflow: visible; position: absolute; right: 0px;">
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LdfC_UEvcCU/XbWdWGtRDGI/AAAAAAAADJY/8SZUgYKxHWA7GnZFnL6XjS2UgGsmk8wpACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/iStock-938057744.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="425" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LdfC_UEvcCU/XbWdWGtRDGI/AAAAAAAADJY/8SZUgYKxHWA7GnZFnL6XjS2UgGsmk8wpACLcBGAsYHQ/s640/iStock-938057744.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<div style="font-family: inherit; margin-bottom: 6px;">
In the Dark</div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
He lies<br />
in the gloom and wastes<br />
and waits.<br />
He is tired.</div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
He dreams<br />
of the time before.</div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The moon clings to clouds.</span><br />
The dogs sing<br />
to the unburdened air.</div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
In the dream he lifts his son<br />
to the sky<br />
settles him on a red horse,<br />
offers it a sweet.</div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
He wakes --<br />
the vision of his baby<br />
laughing,<br />
tangled in the mane<br />
of a wild thing,<br />
blood<br />
spit<br />
tears.</div>
<div style="display: inline; font-family: inherit; margin-top: 6px;">
~Elodie Pritchartt</div>
</div>
</div>
Shantybellumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10717453211744476149noreply@blogger.com1