30 April 2016
Ah, breakfast! Freshly sliced pineapple dusted with fresh (I suspect from their garden) minced mint leaves. Susan is a wizard in pairing herbs and spices with foods you would not consider pairing. We all suffered through waffles made the night before with yeast and allowed to cool rise overnight. They were so light you had to hold them down on the plate with your knife while you ate with your fork. The strawberries and whipped cream weren’t heavy enough to do the job.
I packed and loaded the car and settled accounts with James and asked him to have Susan consider opening a restaurant in Fort Lauderdale. I was on the road by 9:30 am. I was about an hour into the drive to Greensboro when the phone rang. It was James. I had left by brand new backpacking camera in the room. He said he would send it to me in Fort Lauderdale. I had my backup camera and lenses in the car and I’m not backpacking any more on the trip so I can continue to photograph.
I pulled into Jimmie and Stephen’s driveway a little after one. Jimmie is my second cousin and one of three sisters. She is the youngest of the three and the one closest to my age and we grew up together in a small town called Morton. We did everything together and were pretty much inseparable including building tree houses, learning to play bridge from her Mom, to going to Tank Hill and sneaking up the town water tank which we would have paid dearly if anyone of our parents found out.
After settling in, we headed for Bicentennial Park and the adjacent bog. I got to take some neat photos and saw some old friends I hadn’t seen in years (plants, not people). In particular, I saw bloodroot which was used on the back over of my wildflower book. I love that plant! It has a single leaf and this time of year produces a single bloom with slender, white, finger-like petals that last only one day. At the end of the day, the petals fall off, and if pollinated, produces a simple fruit. You can guess the reason for the common name of the plant.
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Later, after returning home, we headed to a local Thai restaurant for a good dinner and then headed to a local used bookstore that used to be Stephen’s old office. It’s a warehouse size space with books sometimes two deep on the shelf. If at first you don’t succeed, keep looking. I found the same title once under fiction, once under literature/classics, and once under some obscure heading.
I’m in bed early tonight but not before I read a short story by Eudora Welty. Jimmie and I started talking about her. I told her that one of the guests at Carolina B&B was introduced to me as her nephew. He certainly was the right age for that. I told Jimmie that I disliked her books – I find them almost unreadable – but really like her photos. Jimmie was fortunate enough to get to hear her do readings while at Milsaps and even once in Greensboro and she had the similar opinion until she heard her read her short stories.
Growing up we had to read her at school because she was a Mississippi writer and we both agreed we didn’t realize she was nationally known until after college.
To this day, when people not from Mississippi find out that I was originally from there, they don’t ask me if I read Faulkner, Stark Young, Tennessee Williams, but have I read Welty. I’m going to start with Jimmie’s recommendation “Why I Live at the P.O.” I’ll see if 46 years makes a difference in my opinion.
