Photo by Bill Ivey

I've been concentrating on scanning my father's negatives this year after receiving a new scanner for Christmas; and yes, I've been busy. Only thing is, ya see the box to the bottom left? Each one of those envelopes contains the negatives of up to 36 exposures. Ooooof. This is a job! You can't tell, but I AM making progress. And, I'm finding some long-lost family shots to boot! This week, I switched over to scanning his photos.

L-R Bill Ivey, Faron Young, Tom 'Cat' Reeder 1970s

As many of you know, my father, by trade, was a photographer. His passion was country music. During the week, he would concentrate on his business, but when the weekends came, he and my mom were somewhere listening to someone. After befriending a local disc jockey in the late 1960s, Tom 'Cat' Reeder, the two were inseparable. Given carte blanche at the shows, Bill would not hesitate to get up close and personal.  Tom once said to a friend, "That damn Bill Ivey. He's always up in my face with that DAMN camera blinding me with that DAMN flash. But, thank GOD he is!" Yes, indeed. Thank goodness he shot all of those photos. Wonderful memories--now that I'm old enough to appreciate it all. A pre-teen? Oh how I hated having to go to all of those shows then. I was too young to be left at home with my brothers; so I went--kicking and screaming. Normally, I would sit in the car, listening to the radio . . . all night. (I, to this day, wonder how I didn't run the battery down? Hmmmm.)

There were times, however, when I did "participate." Here we are on someone's bus -- with mom and Bobby Stephenson. Look how styling my mom was. WHO KNEW??? lol

Tom signing a photo for Connie Smith. Me looking awkward. Who's the looker on?

Here, dad may just be cramping Jerry Lee Lewis' style. Note his bandaged hand. The Killer truly WAS a bad ass back then, and I loved it! Ahhhhhh, rebellion! YES!

"Mr. Lewis, Mr. Lewis, please LOOK at ME!" hahaha. I finally did catch his attention, fangirled and got his autograph and a photo with him. Hmmmm. I put the photo somewhere really safe, as this was quite a moment in my life. Can I find it? Nope. LOL

Different night, yet another bad ass,  Merle Haggard. Hmmmm, there's a correlation here, I think. (Check out his boots. Python, perhaps? DANG.) I shoulda grabbed him. HAHAHA. Never. Can you tell I was terribly embarrassed by just being there???!!

This one, I just had to throw in. I love this photo in so many ways. This was the usual scene behind the stage at the outside shows. Someone always had a complete bar in their trunk--that person would also be Bill Ivey. Look at the face on the beehive lady. If looks could kill. And the tall man next to her cracking up. Then, if you look to the left, the gent with a pipe has a tie wrapped around his head. And, of course, my mom, posing with a soft smile.

Now you see why I sat in the car and listened to the radio?!! These "old" people were having a good time! How embarrassing.

Labels: Childhood, Dad, Mom, Music

The Little Harpeth River

I've been riding my bicycle through the parks as weather permits. We had a lot of rain last week so I'm trying to catch up. I have passed this sign a million times and have wanted to stop and get a little history on the area; and finally I did.

The Little Harpeth runs alongside the bike path which makes for a lovely ride. On most days, I fight myself to keep moving; but yesterday I found myself once more chasing shadows. The light is so brilliant this time of year that I just had to bring my ol' point-and-shoot out and snap a few.

 I hadn't even noticed the creek bed's layers until I looked closely at this shot. 

Growing up, we had a creek down the street where us kids always ended up on hot summer days. At the time, Four-Mile Run was just about the same as this little creek, shallow enough to wade through. In the spring, I would bring tadpoles home to watch "grow." We always had buckets all over the dining room around that time. I can't really remember any frogs ever evolving--probably because either 1) my mom dumped them while we were at school, or 2) the cats ate them. Ha! I never gave it any thought, actually. Kids.

Do you remember original Levi jeans in the late 1960s? Geesh, remember how they could almost stand up by themselves when you first bought them? They needed to be washed like a million times before you could even move in them. Seriously. Ha, I distinctly remember getting my first pair; and of course, my momma wasn't about to wash something that had never even been worn! (She was kind of a funny washer--growing up during the Depression, I guess.) Well, of course we ended up in the creek that day. Can you imagine walking in new Levi's that are wet? And, remember, we had to roll them up because our parents would never dream of buying the right size so we could supposedly "grow" into them? (My short legs are still the same length as they were in the 60s! My pants were always rolled up. Still are! Ugh.) How much ya wanna bet those little legs were chaffed raw by the time I made it home! Ouchy. 

Ahhh, cheers to childhood memories and chasing spring shadows.

Labels: Arlington, Childhood, Spring, Tennessee, Virginia

President Obama Speaks at My High School

What an inspiration to listen to President Obama speak to the next generation of Americans. It just so happened that he spoke at MY Alma Mater, Wakefield High School in Arlington, VA.

I am so proud!

In case you were unable to hear it, you can go here to catch the video. I wish every American would give their child the opportunity to hear this speech. It truly was inspiring--not only to my 15-year old, but also to me.

Ok, now, I expect straight A's from the kid!

xo
ro

Back and Forth

We're back, back home that is. Decided we needed a little lovin' from the "father" and hub and momma (not to mention the teenager). We snuck back into town yesterday afternoon. Total uneventful drive, which is gud.

Our norm is to have beignets before we leave the beach. This area has a lot of New Orleans' influences, including their foods, since they're right across the Bay from us. You can find cajun food mingling in the menus with the seafood dishes and several Creole restaurants scattered about. Yum. Our favorites along the Gulf Coast were knocked out by Hurricane Ivan a few years back and only a few have returned. A mainstay is the Beignet Cafe in Orange Beach. It has been our tradition to get our beignets and cafe au lait before heading home. Since the kid and I wasn't sure when we were leaving, we went on Friday, deciding to spend a day at the shore. Oh my. Nothing like adding a few pounds to the already fat, bathing suit clad woman! They were soooooooo good!

It was actually too hot to make it to the beach, so we drove around looking at all the new construction happening along the shoreline. Amazing. Like I mentioned, so much had been lost during Ivan. (These pics were taken by the kid through the back window in the spring of 1995--a full six months after the hurricane hit--dead on.) It was truly sad to see the devastation throughout Orange and Gulf Shores; but I'm here to say, they are gung ho on building the place up. Which actually is kind of sad. All of the sweet houses that were flattened are being replaced by these huge high rise monstrosities, of course. You can see where they were, completely demolished, only sand and debris where houses once stood. Today, there are cranes everywhere rebuilding. Here is out tranquil setting as we sat and ate lunch at one of our favorites, Bahama Bob's. Looks delightful, but it was hot out on that sand, let me tell you! We stayed in the shade where a nice breeze blew through as we ate.

We then high tailed it back to Fairhope where we found a public pool in town. It was nice. We spent all day floating about until we became waterlogged. It was just perfect.

Friday night, we found a new restaurant where the locals go. It is off the beaten path and it had a lot of cars in the parking lot. That was a sure sign that it was good--my daddy always taught us that. "If there's no cars in the parking lot, pass it by!" As soon as we walked in, it reminded me of a restaurant my parents used to frequent, faithfully, every Saturday night when we were teenagers. I guess they figured we were old enough to stay at home and they had their "date" once a week. It was at least an hour's drive towards the Chesapeake Bay in Wayson's Corner, Maryland, where the blue line ends. (You can also see the Rod 'n' Reel Club on the map, that's a whole other haunt or ours growing up!) I had almost forgotten about the place until the kid and I entered The Blue Marlin. OMG! Talk about another flashback--this time a good one, thank goodness. The smells, the tables, the old wood panelling, the saltines on the table! hehe. I could never understand why my parents would drive that far for a hole in the wall, I mean, that's about all that was there, the restaurant, a gas station, etc. But they would, and I now know it was for the fresh seafood. I remember a few times, I had to go. You know the age, where you're almost old enough to stay at home alone but not quite. (Actually, when I think about it, I was pretty darn old! Maybe 9 or 10, gee, I just don't remember. I've left my kids alone a lot younger than that!) Anyway, not being a big seafood eater, I would always choose something from the landlubber section, probably fried chicken or salisbury steak--I doubt it even had a children's menu. My parents would always get the Captain's Plate consisting of a piece of every fresh fish caught that day, ew. Ha, I remember if they got home late, my mom would inevitably forget and leave her extra fish, always wrapped neatly in a paper napkin (before all these styrofoam containers, folks), in her purse. Our cats would drag it out before daybreak and have a feast and she would wake up grumbling about it in the morning. Aw, what fond memories. Anyway, a little off the beaten path there but worth mentioning just the same. The kid had fried shrimp and I had boiled. I miss the steamed shrimp from the Chesapeake area. Pout. Up there, they steam them with Old Bay spices which make them absolutely delish. In Bama, they just boil or steam them plain. I'm going to have to start carrying my own Old Bay with me, grin. Ya think I would embarrass the kids? I want MY OLD BAY!

We got back home, stuffed to the gill, and we made the decision that we would sneak back home on Saturday, not tell a soul. Which we did. I had a short meeting with the carpenter about 10:30 and then we were out of there. We waived goodbye to Riverside and headed North. (More of the kid's photos above.) Made it home about 6 p.m. Sigh. Good to be home with our loved ones. Mom is well, very happy to see us, the hub was amazed to see us and I think the teenager was confused when he heard my voice coming from the kitchen. Oh yea, you can tell we're home! Look at all the junk!


Now we await my niece's arrival (the cuz) on Tuesday! Yippee! She'll be with us for the summer!! CanNOT WAIT to see her! We are all beside ourselves.

Pining for Summer

Nine days 'til summer. I can taste it. I can smell Riverside. I can hear the little tree frogs singing. I want to be there, NOW!


Not helping matters any, today I received the new Sundance catalog. I open it up only to find the boat of my dreams!! I really want it! Whine. Can't have it, but I really want it. Of course, it all began with an episode from The Sopranos--you know, the one when Tony and Carm visit Bobby and Janice at their lake house. They had the sweetest vintage boat similar to this that I fell in love with. Oh yes, that's the one that would fit perfectly in the Riverside boat house! hehe.

I have a special place in my heart for these vintage vessels. My Uncle Vin (married to my father's sister Ollie) bought a beautiful used 1960s Chris-Craft cabin cruiser; and my father lovingly restored her to her original elegance by stripping all the painted over teak and mahagony. She was absolutely gorgeous when he finished. We spent many a day cruising the Chesapeake Bay and Atlantic on the this boat. If we weren't on the boat, we were at the beach almost every weekend. I found this old ad, and it sure does bring back memories. This looks very similar to the ol' Honey Pot of Washington, DC.

Anyway, even though the Honey Pot was a lot different than this gorgeous gal, it still tugs at my heartstrings when I see a beauty like this. Sigh. (The hub is going to cringe when he reads this post! hehe)

Mother Memories

Promotional Photo Circa 1962

Each year for Mother's Day, I am going to try and conjure up memories from my childhood with mom. It's hard when you sit down to try and recall your oldest thoughts and visuals, isn't it? Well, today, I dusted off the old filing cabinets in my brain, blew off the cobwebs on my childhood folders and pulled these memories out of retirement. I really enjoyed thinking about my childhood, way back when. The more I wrote, the more I remembered. I think the boys will get a kick out of these stories one day.

I took the photo above the last time I was in DC. I wanted a picture of one of my oldest childhood memories. I remember being very young and Mom driving my brother Johnny* to piano lessons not too far from our home in Arlington and then driving into DC across the Memorial Bridge. I have loved these huge bronze statues ever since. They (Arts of War) flank each side of the bridge as you cross the Potomac River and just before you enter Washington. I thought about that memory each and every time I passed by these statues--each and every time, from that day on--hundreds and hundreds of times. (Perhaps there was more to the day than I truly remember, I don't know.) You can imagine how big these seemed to a small child. The shiny bronze made them even more stunning to me. That was the only time I ever remember my mother driving a car. She must have given it up shortly thereafter. (I was later told why. My father, who could be the most giving person around, gave her car away to a friend in need. She in turn vowed never to drive again--and she never did, honest. Oh yes, momma can be stubborn! I'm told it's a Bailey trait. Hmmm, ya think that's where I get it from, hub?)

When it came to weening me off the bottle, my mom was very lenient, to say the least. I remember my oldest brother Joe (14 years my senior) still living at home and dating (Mary Jane?). One night my mom refused to give me a bottle, so I just just pranced my little self right downstairs, poured milk into a bottle, hid it in a paper sack (so no one would see, of course) and then take it back up to bed. Mom told me some nights I would drink up to three bottles--throwing the empties against the wall before producing the next one in line. One day, she just took all my bottles and threw them away. Boom, done. There was no weening period at all. Cold turkey. She said "No more bottles" and that was that. I have never drank another drop of plain milk since. (See stubborn in above paragraph.) hehe. Now, on the other hand, she told me that I was out of diapers at an extremely early age. I couldn't stand to be wet. Again, I would take it upon myself to do what was needed to make myself comfortable. I would march upstairs, change my own diaper and return. I swear, that's what she told me! I crack myself up. (Those pins must have been a bee-otch!) Had to be trainers she's thinking of. giggle.

I guess I've always been a Ramblin' Rose. I used to wander off from time to time when I was very young. One day, pre-school aged, I told my mom that I was going down to the basement to help my dad. He had his photography studio down there at the time. Well, I guess it was just a front because I went down, saw that he was in the darkroom and walked right out the basement door and proceeded to prance myself all the way up to the park (see Ft. Scott below) through the woods, no doubt! Mom said two men came knocking at our door about an hour later with me by their side. Said they "found" me up there. hehe. They told her she should keep a closer eye on me! I bet I got a pop on the rear that day!

I'll never forget the first day of kindergarten at Oakridge Elementary School. (Is that not the best name for an elementary school? And, of course, it matched its name. It was soooo sweet.) We walked hand-in-hand all the way to school. It was just over a mile and the walk took us through the loveliest of neighborhoods. We lived down the hill from the "expensive" neighborhoods in a duplex house, yet I never once felt embarrassed or self conscious about it. I owe that to my mother's unpretentious nature. I can still remember all the smells of the pastes (which I even tasted because it smelled so good!), pencil shavings and erasers that sat in my cigar box. Kindergarten was only half a day, so I really enjoyed it. Jump to first grade--full day--and there my friends lay a whole other story. First of all, I had to take the bus! That didn't' settle in too well at all. I cried the first week (or perhaps longer) even after she walked me instead of making me take that stinky bus. She later told me it just broke her heart. I can relate as the kid did the same thing to me. (The teenager would say goodbye as soon as we walked through the door--like, "don't let the door slam ya on the butt on your way out, ma!")

One year, we had a field trip to Ft. Scott Park. (This is the same park I "ran away" to.) It was just up the hill from our house--a short walk if you took the path through the "woods." I had forgot to bring my lunch for the trip and I remember being terribly embarrassed. I suppose someone called my mom because by the time we walked to the park, she was there waiting for me with a freshly made scrambled egg on toast sandwich. It was the best sandwich I had ever tasted. To this day, I can almost taste it, really. I remember my dad having a Buick station wagon that had a heater that smelled just like that when you started it up in the winter. It was very comforting then, sounds kinda gross now!

After kindergarten, mom got a job at my elementary school working in the kitchen of the cafeteria. (Back then, everything was cooked fresh from scratch--can you imagine?) I guess she figured she better be close to me in case I had an "emotional" breakdown. hehe. She continued through the years to follow me when I graduated to the next school--jr. high school and then to my high school. It was wonderful having her there in elementary--not so good in jr. high school. You know, "that's NOT MY mother!" attitude, although everyone loved her, of course. She would give everyone extras except me while serving. Pout. Poor me.

Mom used to make iced tea each summer. But I couldn't stand it as it was sweeter than the law allowed. (Oh yes, she is the perfect Georgia Peach.) All my friends would come over just to have here iced tea, I'd stick to water. She would then let us cook hot dogs on skewers over the gas stove burners. I can't even imagine allowing my kids to do that! When she cooked them for dinner, she would lightly score each hot dog spirally to keep them from curling up, I guess (?). She would also cut a slit from the center out of a thick slice of bologna, again to keep it from curling up while frying. (Talk about Southern!) Yum, I haven't had a fried bologna sandwich in years! Of course, it was served on the softest of breads, Wonder Bread!

What wonderful memories. Happy Mother's Day mom!

*Johnny-Lee-Hoo, how old were you when you took piano lessons????

(As I wrote the beginning of this, mom has come upstairs half-a-dozen times to ask me what to wear tomorrow to our Mother's Day brunch. God Bless her. Give her something out of her routine, and it sure throws her for a loop. I try not to tell her anything until the day of; but I had to wash her hair and give her a shower for tomorrow and explain that we had big plans for the day. I picked out her clothes and put them out but she is confused as to when she should get dressed. I pulled out a pretty pair of shoes to wear and she keeps bringing them upstairs to make sure they are the right ones. We just giggle with each other every time she comes up. Better to laugh than to cry, she always said.)

Spring Flowers In Need

I am dying for some color here! I looked at some pics from last year this time--how depressing! We've had drought, heat, deep freezes; and it shows in our gardens. Not a piece of color and even most of the green is dying. The last freeze really did a number on all our new growth. I only hope the bushes and trees aren't as dead as they all look. Most of the evergreens are dropping all their leaves. Whaaaa. So today, I went out and purchased a couple of containers of pansies. Can't do much damage to them even if it does turn cold again.


I'm longing for Riverside; but I doubt I'll be able to get there for a while. I found four cheap kitchen table chairs today. Now, the hard part--a table. Of course, I don't have the measurements I need to purchase such things, including curtains. I do need to add some of those to the master bedroom nook since the hardware is already there--and {some} sun still gets through the plantation shutters in the morning. Guess I'm getting old, as it bothered me for the first time in my life. Light never bothered me before. It will also soften that area a little. Above is a piece I bought at the Fairhope craft show. It's by Sloane Bibb, and his stuff is just amazing. I actually purchased two of his pieces and hope to add to my collection at some point. To the right, here, you see us beginning a collection of treasures from around Riverside. If I would just get all those pictures off the hub's laptop! Gee whiz.

BOOM! Snap back to reality.

I'm behind on my chores here--laundry running amuck all over, beds unmade, breakfast still sitting about--what to do, what to do. Everything is still exactly as I left it this morning, and here it is already 5:30.

I have dinner going, sloppy joes with corn (only because that is how it was served for lunch in the Arlington County Virginia school system). What was your fav lunch combo from primary school? I'm even being lazy there. I tried a Baked Pork Chop recipe that turned out just horrible last night. (Do you know what a No. 2 1/2 can of tomatoes is?) And do you see where it says to cover the dish? Duh, I should have known better with rice. But obviously didn't so of course, it was all dried out. Oh well. So it's back to the same ol' grind tonight.

Ever have those periods of pure blahs? Guess I'm having one of those. Wouldn't say it's the black or blue cow hovering overhead, just down-right lazy, I suppose.