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Message
TulaneLSU’s Top 10 things enjoyed in Elberta and Foley, Alabama
Posted on 6/17/20 at 6:31 am
Posted on 6/17/20 at 6:31 am
Dear Friends,
If Alabama is like a colon, then Baldwin County is its cecum, that tiny, trivial tail dangling into the depths, squeezed between a triangular bay and the wilderness of western Florida. I had never really noticed it on a map until this weekend, nor given it much thought. This weekend’s day trip there was not the first time I have spent time there. We have stayed at The Grand Hotel in Point Clear a handful of times. I have walked the pleasant streets of Fairhope, a diminutive yet ostentatious town filled with the aloof of a transitioning culture.
The County was named for Abraham Baldwin, born a Congregationalist but later a Presbyterian. He served as a chaplain during the Revolutionary War, and later, was fundamental in drafting the Constitution. As a good American Presbyterian, he continued to the frontier to spread erudition and culture, founding the University of Georgia.
Baldwin County extends north of I-10, but I have never visited that land. In all my experiences of the county, from The Grand to Paula Deen to Lambert’s to Phoenixes on the beach to Buc-ee’s, I saw a county in decline. Its people and those attracted to it a mess of obesity, materialism, disorderliness, and atheistic aestheticism. Even a simple post about Buc-ee’s I wrote garnered significant hatred or approval because such symbols of the South’s spiritual decline weigh so heavily on the dying Southern soul. A chapter on a town’s declining churches, on the other hand, will attract no such passion. If these people nursing from the breast of corporate and plastic business represent Southern culture, count me out. In short, the character of today’s South is that of vulgarity.
When Mother suggested Baldwin County as the destination for our roadtrip, I initially was disappointed. If we are going to go to the trouble of crossing so many bridges, I would at least like to go to the house east of Destin and get some Dewey’s Destin on the Pass on the way. Mother, however, is still miffed at Florida’s months-long unconstitutional border patrol against Louisiana residents. It may be some time before we cross that border, as Mother is ranting about a family-wide embargo of and boycott against all things Florida.
On the ride over, Mother drugged me with enough Benadryl to tranquilize an elephant. But I am somewhat desensitized to large doses, thus was able to carry on with conversation and thought. By the way, I was finally able to urinate this morning. “TulaneLSU, I do not like how things are going in New Orleans.”
And I did not like how she began that conversation. Her voice was stern and serious, as it usually is, but I have never before heard her begin a conversation with displeasure with or negative words about New Orleans.
“I think we should consider moving.”
“Stop right there, Mother!” I would not allow such a thought to continue if I have any say.
But I do not have any say. “TulaneLSU, our family has lived in New Orleans for more than 200 years. Perhaps the ghosts of our city are weighing on you and stopping you from being who you should be. The virus and the protests.” She paused to find what to say next. “These could be signs from God that this is your time, or our time, to leave and start a new life somewhere else.”
“Mother, I will have none of it. . Do you hear me? Nein!” Sometimes when I get angry, I will blurt out some German, as it is as vulgar as my tongue will allow.
“It would be good for you. To wake up to a hard day of work. To produce something with your hands. To make something of your life. I am buying a farm out here. I want you to move here and run it.”
“Mother, I cannot do that. My life is filled with work. I already write. And I have several books forthcoming. There is a huge Christmas party to plan, decorations to make, a Poorboy Tours of New Orleans F-350 bus to repair. I have plenty to do.”
As I was finishing my sentence, a small bird flew in front the car and Mother’s window destroyed it. Its bloodied feathers on the window left no doubt. We were quite shaken by it. The conversation ended, and I think we both recognized the bird was a period to the conversation. At least I did. We did not continue the conversation the rest of the day. Maybe she will try again.
Friends, let me continue with a list, TulaneLSU’s Top 10 things enjoyed in Elberta and Foley, Alabama:
10. Foley’s Antique Rose Trail
I have but two plants I can, with honesty, call my own. I am working on becoming a master gardener, but not yet. The Rose Trail runs several blocks, on the eastern side of downtown. The peak season was probably six weeks ago, but there were still plenty of blooms.
9. Statues of Barber Marina
At the end of a long and winding country road the Barber Marina sits. The thick pine forests abruptly end and you find yourself directly across Orange Beach. This marina is unexpected, both in scope and quality. It is actually nicer than any marina in Louisiana. One of the odd characteristics of the marina is the amount of outdoor art its lands host. When one arrives, she is greeted with a giant fountain with Neptune perched atop. Going around the roundabout, the first exit brings you to a strange Rex-like statue before coming to a large iron spider. It is certainly not to the quality of NOMA’s sculpture garden or even the sculpture garden at Auburn University. Nonetheless, it was an unexpected grace, and for those we can all be grateful. Speaking of roundabouts, I thought Opelika had the only roundabout in Alabama. As it turns out Baldwin County is full of them. The theme park at AWO has at least five of them.
8. Dinosaurs in the woods
Another unexpected grace was finding, in the middle of nowhere, a smattering of dinosaurs. I thought we were supposed to walk to find them, so I had Mother park the car and I went adventuring through posted lands. After getting yelled at by a man in a large SUV, i returned to the car and we drove, finding three of the four dinosaurs. I had Mother stop the car for the T-Rex, as I wanted a picture with it. I did my best to scale its spine, as I thought it could be a great Christmas card photo of me taming the T-Rex. Ultimately, after five minutes of trying, I gave up, unable to get a hold of its neck. We also saw this strange sculpture. Apparently the owner of these lands like sculptures.
American property rights are concrete and far too expansive. I prefer the British system, where walkers and journeyers are given right of way. That does not mean one can pitch a tent on your property, but it does mean one can use your property to hike onward on God's earth. We are just stewards of this land. A certain level of ownership is good, for it assures certain things are ordered. When we start hoarding our land and posting angrily worded signs with threats, that is when it is just too much.
If Alabama is like a colon, then Baldwin County is its cecum, that tiny, trivial tail dangling into the depths, squeezed between a triangular bay and the wilderness of western Florida. I had never really noticed it on a map until this weekend, nor given it much thought. This weekend’s day trip there was not the first time I have spent time there. We have stayed at The Grand Hotel in Point Clear a handful of times. I have walked the pleasant streets of Fairhope, a diminutive yet ostentatious town filled with the aloof of a transitioning culture.
The County was named for Abraham Baldwin, born a Congregationalist but later a Presbyterian. He served as a chaplain during the Revolutionary War, and later, was fundamental in drafting the Constitution. As a good American Presbyterian, he continued to the frontier to spread erudition and culture, founding the University of Georgia.
Baldwin County extends north of I-10, but I have never visited that land. In all my experiences of the county, from The Grand to Paula Deen to Lambert’s to Phoenixes on the beach to Buc-ee’s, I saw a county in decline. Its people and those attracted to it a mess of obesity, materialism, disorderliness, and atheistic aestheticism. Even a simple post about Buc-ee’s I wrote garnered significant hatred or approval because such symbols of the South’s spiritual decline weigh so heavily on the dying Southern soul. A chapter on a town’s declining churches, on the other hand, will attract no such passion. If these people nursing from the breast of corporate and plastic business represent Southern culture, count me out. In short, the character of today’s South is that of vulgarity.
When Mother suggested Baldwin County as the destination for our roadtrip, I initially was disappointed. If we are going to go to the trouble of crossing so many bridges, I would at least like to go to the house east of Destin and get some Dewey’s Destin on the Pass on the way. Mother, however, is still miffed at Florida’s months-long unconstitutional border patrol against Louisiana residents. It may be some time before we cross that border, as Mother is ranting about a family-wide embargo of and boycott against all things Florida.
On the ride over, Mother drugged me with enough Benadryl to tranquilize an elephant. But I am somewhat desensitized to large doses, thus was able to carry on with conversation and thought. By the way, I was finally able to urinate this morning. “TulaneLSU, I do not like how things are going in New Orleans.”
And I did not like how she began that conversation. Her voice was stern and serious, as it usually is, but I have never before heard her begin a conversation with displeasure with or negative words about New Orleans.
“I think we should consider moving.”
“Stop right there, Mother!” I would not allow such a thought to continue if I have any say.
But I do not have any say. “TulaneLSU, our family has lived in New Orleans for more than 200 years. Perhaps the ghosts of our city are weighing on you and stopping you from being who you should be. The virus and the protests.” She paused to find what to say next. “These could be signs from God that this is your time, or our time, to leave and start a new life somewhere else.”
“Mother, I will have none of it. . Do you hear me? Nein!” Sometimes when I get angry, I will blurt out some German, as it is as vulgar as my tongue will allow.
“It would be good for you. To wake up to a hard day of work. To produce something with your hands. To make something of your life. I am buying a farm out here. I want you to move here and run it.”
“Mother, I cannot do that. My life is filled with work. I already write. And I have several books forthcoming. There is a huge Christmas party to plan, decorations to make, a Poorboy Tours of New Orleans F-350 bus to repair. I have plenty to do.”
As I was finishing my sentence, a small bird flew in front the car and Mother’s window destroyed it. Its bloodied feathers on the window left no doubt. We were quite shaken by it. The conversation ended, and I think we both recognized the bird was a period to the conversation. At least I did. We did not continue the conversation the rest of the day. Maybe she will try again.
Friends, let me continue with a list, TulaneLSU’s Top 10 things enjoyed in Elberta and Foley, Alabama:
10. Foley’s Antique Rose Trail
I have but two plants I can, with honesty, call my own. I am working on becoming a master gardener, but not yet. The Rose Trail runs several blocks, on the eastern side of downtown. The peak season was probably six weeks ago, but there were still plenty of blooms.
9. Statues of Barber Marina
At the end of a long and winding country road the Barber Marina sits. The thick pine forests abruptly end and you find yourself directly across Orange Beach. This marina is unexpected, both in scope and quality. It is actually nicer than any marina in Louisiana. One of the odd characteristics of the marina is the amount of outdoor art its lands host. When one arrives, she is greeted with a giant fountain with Neptune perched atop. Going around the roundabout, the first exit brings you to a strange Rex-like statue before coming to a large iron spider. It is certainly not to the quality of NOMA’s sculpture garden or even the sculpture garden at Auburn University. Nonetheless, it was an unexpected grace, and for those we can all be grateful. Speaking of roundabouts, I thought Opelika had the only roundabout in Alabama. As it turns out Baldwin County is full of them. The theme park at AWO has at least five of them.
8. Dinosaurs in the woods
Another unexpected grace was finding, in the middle of nowhere, a smattering of dinosaurs. I thought we were supposed to walk to find them, so I had Mother park the car and I went adventuring through posted lands. After getting yelled at by a man in a large SUV, i returned to the car and we drove, finding three of the four dinosaurs. I had Mother stop the car for the T-Rex, as I wanted a picture with it. I did my best to scale its spine, as I thought it could be a great Christmas card photo of me taming the T-Rex. Ultimately, after five minutes of trying, I gave up, unable to get a hold of its neck. We also saw this strange sculpture. Apparently the owner of these lands like sculptures.
American property rights are concrete and far too expansive. I prefer the British system, where walkers and journeyers are given right of way. That does not mean one can pitch a tent on your property, but it does mean one can use your property to hike onward on God's earth. We are just stewards of this land. A certain level of ownership is good, for it assures certain things are ordered. When we start hoarding our land and posting angrily worded signs with threats, that is when it is just too much.
This post was edited on 6/17/20 at 6:32 am
4
Posted on 6/17/20 at 6:31 am to TulaneLSU
7. Bamahenge
Among the oddities of traveling the backroads of America, Bamahenge has to rank in the Top 100. The sign claims it is an exact replica of that pagan stone work. I have no desire to go to the original nor would I have made the stop here had Mother not hit that bird and wanted to gather herself. There is a nice graveled parking lot and getting to the hollow plastic installation takes a 100 yard walk.
6. The Train Museum of Foley
The train helped build the town of Foley and the town pays homage to that heritage with the Museum of Trains. Mother told me I was not allowed to enter the museum because “you’re too old to look at trains.” I obeyed her, not out of obligation, but because trains never bit me. They are so loud and dirty looking that I do not have much interest at all in them.
Linked in
Sitting alone, a man with the world's smallest feet.
5. Downtown Foley
From the bridge
Centennial clock tower
Main street style brick buildings
Stacey’s Rexall Drugs and Soda Fountain has been open since 1929, but it was closed midday Saturday at the peak of tourism season.
First Baptist Church is the only church in the heart of downtown, a departure from typical Southern towns. I attribute this to Foley’s late establishment. Before the turn of the city, many towns started as religious outposts, thus downtowns are or were dotted with Protestant churches. Foley was a business venture of Chicago business man John Foley and its lack of a religious heart in downtown hints at the town’s non-religious genesis.
Cars of Foley
4. Downtown Elberta
I could squeeze a Top 10 from these pictures alone, but I would rather shower you with the list in this post. Keep in mind that it was Foley’s Chicago based company that helped develop Elberta. The area was sold as a farmers wonderland. Many first and second generation German immigrants who struggled with farming in the bitterly extremes of the Midwest, moved again, southward. At its heart, the town remains German. Each year in the autumn and spring, I am told by the worker at the Co-Op, thousands still gather for the bi-annual Elberta German Sausage Festival. I wonder if we could get a group from the OT or Food Board to go.
The German character is visible in St. Mark’s Lutheran Church, the original church at the town’s founding in 1908. The area’s tough character continues to be shaped by the German Lutheran spirit of discipline and hard work. Although Elberta is part of the South, it really does not feel like the South, I think because it is not stained with the sin of slavery. It feels much more like the Midwest. People really do give a land its flavor. No place in the South that I have traveled has the density of small, family owned farms as does this part of Baldwin, which I shall christen Bavarian Baldwin.
Road Kill Cafe
Florist
Water Tower, fur das gute leben, for the good life.
Farmers Co-Op
Elberta First Baptist
Town Barn
Trump Sign
If you have your psalms memorized, this sign may give you a good chuckle.
Police Station
Davis Auto Parts (thank you, dear friend)
An old home that seems more in place in the Midwest than the South.
3. The natural beauty of the land
I enjoy Mother’s company, just as I enjoy each of your company, even when the environment is not beautiful. To ride or drive in Baldwin County, once one gets away from the beach and interstate traffic, is to enter a paradise of farmland. The soil is red nearer the interstate numbered 10, and increasingly becomes tanner as one approaches the Gulf of Mexico. Whatever the color, it appears from the road that the soil is rich.
On a summer day with equal parts sun and cumulus cloud, with a dash of feathery upper atmospheric clouds the land surely cannot appear more beautiful. Perhaps our friend Lithium could teach us.
There appears to be a large amount of sod farms in this region as well. I wonder if some of the sod in New Orleans comes from Baldwin. I also noticed a few pecan orchards, which were expertly kept, ordered in perfect grids and whose surrounding grass was well manicured, I presume, by a large John Deere tractor. I cannot imagine using a push mower for tens of acres of cutting.
Pine forests predominate in the non-farmed areas. These pines are clearly human planted, but I suspect that before all the hard working immigrants arrived to this region, the area was covered in pine. I wonder how much energy was put into clearing these forests to make way for farmland.
Among the oddities of traveling the backroads of America, Bamahenge has to rank in the Top 100. The sign claims it is an exact replica of that pagan stone work. I have no desire to go to the original nor would I have made the stop here had Mother not hit that bird and wanted to gather herself. There is a nice graveled parking lot and getting to the hollow plastic installation takes a 100 yard walk.
6. The Train Museum of Foley
The train helped build the town of Foley and the town pays homage to that heritage with the Museum of Trains. Mother told me I was not allowed to enter the museum because “you’re too old to look at trains.” I obeyed her, not out of obligation, but because trains never bit me. They are so loud and dirty looking that I do not have much interest at all in them.
Linked in
Sitting alone, a man with the world's smallest feet.
5. Downtown Foley
From the bridge
Centennial clock tower
Main street style brick buildings
Stacey’s Rexall Drugs and Soda Fountain has been open since 1929, but it was closed midday Saturday at the peak of tourism season.
First Baptist Church is the only church in the heart of downtown, a departure from typical Southern towns. I attribute this to Foley’s late establishment. Before the turn of the city, many towns started as religious outposts, thus downtowns are or were dotted with Protestant churches. Foley was a business venture of Chicago business man John Foley and its lack of a religious heart in downtown hints at the town’s non-religious genesis.
Cars of Foley
4. Downtown Elberta
I could squeeze a Top 10 from these pictures alone, but I would rather shower you with the list in this post. Keep in mind that it was Foley’s Chicago based company that helped develop Elberta. The area was sold as a farmers wonderland. Many first and second generation German immigrants who struggled with farming in the bitterly extremes of the Midwest, moved again, southward. At its heart, the town remains German. Each year in the autumn and spring, I am told by the worker at the Co-Op, thousands still gather for the bi-annual Elberta German Sausage Festival. I wonder if we could get a group from the OT or Food Board to go.
The German character is visible in St. Mark’s Lutheran Church, the original church at the town’s founding in 1908. The area’s tough character continues to be shaped by the German Lutheran spirit of discipline and hard work. Although Elberta is part of the South, it really does not feel like the South, I think because it is not stained with the sin of slavery. It feels much more like the Midwest. People really do give a land its flavor. No place in the South that I have traveled has the density of small, family owned farms as does this part of Baldwin, which I shall christen Bavarian Baldwin.
Road Kill Cafe
Florist
Water Tower, fur das gute leben, for the good life.
Farmers Co-Op
Elberta First Baptist
Town Barn
Trump Sign
If you have your psalms memorized, this sign may give you a good chuckle.
Police Station
Davis Auto Parts (thank you, dear friend)
An old home that seems more in place in the Midwest than the South.
3. The natural beauty of the land
I enjoy Mother’s company, just as I enjoy each of your company, even when the environment is not beautiful. To ride or drive in Baldwin County, once one gets away from the beach and interstate traffic, is to enter a paradise of farmland. The soil is red nearer the interstate numbered 10, and increasingly becomes tanner as one approaches the Gulf of Mexico. Whatever the color, it appears from the road that the soil is rich.
On a summer day with equal parts sun and cumulus cloud, with a dash of feathery upper atmospheric clouds the land surely cannot appear more beautiful. Perhaps our friend Lithium could teach us.
There appears to be a large amount of sod farms in this region as well. I wonder if some of the sod in New Orleans comes from Baldwin. I also noticed a few pecan orchards, which were expertly kept, ordered in perfect grids and whose surrounding grass was well manicured, I presume, by a large John Deere tractor. I cannot imagine using a push mower for tens of acres of cutting.
Pine forests predominate in the non-farmed areas. These pines are clearly human planted, but I suspect that before all the hard working immigrants arrived to this region, the area was covered in pine. I wonder how much energy was put into clearing these forests to make way for farmland.
This post was edited on 6/17/20 at 6:33 am
Posted on 6/17/20 at 6:31 am to TulaneLSU
2. Farms and produce stands
Farms and their attendant produce stands accentuate the natural beauty of God’s fertile lands. How drastically different are these specks of commerce on the less beaten path than the monotonous, life crushing strips of modern commerce along our interstates. Even the ruins of these monuments to a time that has since passed are beautiful in its own way, as kudzu and vine wrestle back dominion from man’s feeble hand.
Summer is hot and seemingly endless. As I age, I like summer less and less. I do, however, still look forward every summer to June and July, when the farms of the South blossom with fresh produce. Seeing this bounty reminds us of the potential even dirt has. If even dirt, which looks lifeless, is able to produce this beauty, think how much more each of us is capable.
I think it was that Guy Harvey fish t-shirt fellow who wrote a speech about God making farmers on the eighth day, which is not biblical, but I still like the speech. In it, the character and strength and love of the farmer is extolled. It is rare that traditional American characteristics are so praised, at least in this time. How much happier would so many be if they spent their time in God’s nature creating something good and beautiful. Let us be honest: most jobs today, especially in cities, do not create good. Perhaps a return to the tough work of small farm life might help cure many of our ills, like depression and sloth and racism.
Perhaps Mother’s suggestion might be good for me.
Empty stand
Elberta stand
Homes become markets
Cassebaum Farms, some of the best corn anywhere
Overgrowth
Red barn
1. Sweet Home Farm Cheese
Perhaps the best kept secret in all of Alabama, Sweet Home Farm produces the best cheese in the South. As the fame of this cheese farm spread by word of mouth a decade ago so too did the line to get its delicious product. In October of 2018, the husband-wife owner team were done with trying to keep up with demand. Their two store employees moved elsewhere and between milking their cows, making their cheese, and running a bustling cheese store from their home, in exhaustion they called it quits.
This was a heartbreaking loss for the cheese community in the South. Nonetheless, the couple continued to produce cheese for restaurants only. Chefs from the finest restaurants in Alabama and Atlanta, an oxymoronic string of words, I know, traveled to this hidden enclave to gather the cheese. But as the pandemic shut down restaurants, the demand for that cheese ceased. The couple were left with a stock of cheese.
As Mother has been a faithful customer, and dare I say friend to the cheesemakers, they informed her that they would begin selling to her again. In honesty, I believe it was this news that prompted our trip, not the knackering for Southern cuisine that Mother claims.
The reunion with these beautiful cheesemakers was reminiscent of Katrina reunions. Everyone was so happy. And I am hoping to place an order so that we have Sweet Home cheese for both the lobster steam party and the Christmas party this year. You will not leave our home unimpressed!
Fruits of my farm travels
Fruits of my pickling using leftover vinegar from bottle Sam’s brand stuffed olives. Never discard good kitchen materials. After just 12 hours, the cukes are tasting quite picklish.
Tainted dessert from Paula Deen’s with a 2020 Knights of Babylon cup
Friends, look for the good in this world. It is there, once you get behind that fallen human shroud of repulsiveness in the form of places like Buc-ee’s and Paula Deen. People are like that as well. They often appear gross, mean and unworthy of love. But when you peel back those layers, you may find something beautiful and loveable.
Faith, Hope, and Love,
TulaneLSU
Farms and their attendant produce stands accentuate the natural beauty of God’s fertile lands. How drastically different are these specks of commerce on the less beaten path than the monotonous, life crushing strips of modern commerce along our interstates. Even the ruins of these monuments to a time that has since passed are beautiful in its own way, as kudzu and vine wrestle back dominion from man’s feeble hand.
Summer is hot and seemingly endless. As I age, I like summer less and less. I do, however, still look forward every summer to June and July, when the farms of the South blossom with fresh produce. Seeing this bounty reminds us of the potential even dirt has. If even dirt, which looks lifeless, is able to produce this beauty, think how much more each of us is capable.
I think it was that Guy Harvey fish t-shirt fellow who wrote a speech about God making farmers on the eighth day, which is not biblical, but I still like the speech. In it, the character and strength and love of the farmer is extolled. It is rare that traditional American characteristics are so praised, at least in this time. How much happier would so many be if they spent their time in God’s nature creating something good and beautiful. Let us be honest: most jobs today, especially in cities, do not create good. Perhaps a return to the tough work of small farm life might help cure many of our ills, like depression and sloth and racism.
Perhaps Mother’s suggestion might be good for me.
Empty stand
Elberta stand
Homes become markets
Cassebaum Farms, some of the best corn anywhere
Overgrowth
Red barn
1. Sweet Home Farm Cheese
Perhaps the best kept secret in all of Alabama, Sweet Home Farm produces the best cheese in the South. As the fame of this cheese farm spread by word of mouth a decade ago so too did the line to get its delicious product. In October of 2018, the husband-wife owner team were done with trying to keep up with demand. Their two store employees moved elsewhere and between milking their cows, making their cheese, and running a bustling cheese store from their home, in exhaustion they called it quits.
This was a heartbreaking loss for the cheese community in the South. Nonetheless, the couple continued to produce cheese for restaurants only. Chefs from the finest restaurants in Alabama and Atlanta, an oxymoronic string of words, I know, traveled to this hidden enclave to gather the cheese. But as the pandemic shut down restaurants, the demand for that cheese ceased. The couple were left with a stock of cheese.
As Mother has been a faithful customer, and dare I say friend to the cheesemakers, they informed her that they would begin selling to her again. In honesty, I believe it was this news that prompted our trip, not the knackering for Southern cuisine that Mother claims.
The reunion with these beautiful cheesemakers was reminiscent of Katrina reunions. Everyone was so happy. And I am hoping to place an order so that we have Sweet Home cheese for both the lobster steam party and the Christmas party this year. You will not leave our home unimpressed!
Fruits of my farm travels
Fruits of my pickling using leftover vinegar from bottle Sam’s brand stuffed olives. Never discard good kitchen materials. After just 12 hours, the cukes are tasting quite picklish.
Tainted dessert from Paula Deen’s with a 2020 Knights of Babylon cup
Friends, look for the good in this world. It is there, once you get behind that fallen human shroud of repulsiveness in the form of places like Buc-ee’s and Paula Deen. People are like that as well. They often appear gross, mean and unworthy of love. But when you peel back those layers, you may find something beautiful and loveable.
Faith, Hope, and Love,
TulaneLSU
This post was edited on 6/17/20 at 6:34 am
Posted on 6/17/20 at 8:42 am to TulaneLSU
My great-great grandparents immigrated from Ireland to a farm between Lillian and Elberta.
Also...Pirates Cove Marina >>>>> Barber.
And that better have been Silver Queen Corn you purchased.
Posted on 6/17/20 at 8:46 am to TulaneLSU
Sorry to hear that the Sweet Home folks aren't doing commercial production any longer. Stopped there several times on my way to the coast for cheese, olives, etc. Friendly people. Dairying is a hard life, though, unless you're clearing enough money to have help.
Posted on 6/17/20 at 9:48 am to TulaneLSU
Might I recommend a stop at Bellingrath Gardens on your return to Louisiana? It's a beautiful sight which can be reached via ferry across Mobile Bay.
Their What's in Bloom? page lists the following to be currently in bloom: Allamanda, Angelonia, Begonias, Caladiums, Cape Jasmine, Coleus, Crepe Myrtle, Crotons, Dragon Wing Begonias, Firecracker Cuphea, Frangipani, Hydrangeas, Gardenias, Milkweed, Morning Glory Bush, Pentas, Roses, Shrimp Plants, Salvias, Southern Magnolia, Spiral Ginger, Star Flower, Sunpatiens, Tropical Hibiscus, Zinnias
Also, the Delchamp's Gallery of Boehm Porcelain, "representing the largest public display of the works of the American sculptor, Edward Marshall Boehm" is on site.
quote:
Until 1934, Walter and Bessie Bellingrath had been residents of Mobile, where they maintained a beautiful home and garden at 60 South Ann Street. When they decided to have their weekend property open year-round to guests, the Bellingraths realized that it would require a great deal of supervision. The couple decided to establish residency at their now-famous Gardens, which were beginning to receive national recognition.
Their What's in Bloom? page lists the following to be currently in bloom: Allamanda, Angelonia, Begonias, Caladiums, Cape Jasmine, Coleus, Crepe Myrtle, Crotons, Dragon Wing Begonias, Firecracker Cuphea, Frangipani, Hydrangeas, Gardenias, Milkweed, Morning Glory Bush, Pentas, Roses, Shrimp Plants, Salvias, Southern Magnolia, Spiral Ginger, Star Flower, Sunpatiens, Tropical Hibiscus, Zinnias
Also, the Delchamp's Gallery of Boehm Porcelain, "representing the largest public display of the works of the American sculptor, Edward Marshall Boehm" is on site.
Posted on 6/17/20 at 10:39 pm to Golfer
Dear Friend,
I assume you mean Pirates Cove on Grand Isle. I have spent many a night there -- a story for another night. Although I have not visited in the last decade, the Pirates Cove of my memories is not nearly as nice as Barber's Marina.
Tell me, does the WLF agent, a quite tall chap, still do the fish cleaning at Pirates Cove?
Yours,
TulaneLSU
I assume you mean Pirates Cove on Grand Isle. I have spent many a night there -- a story for another night. Although I have not visited in the last decade, the Pirates Cove of my memories is not nearly as nice as Barber's Marina.
Tell me, does the WLF agent, a quite tall chap, still do the fish cleaning at Pirates Cove?
Yours,
TulaneLSU
Posted on 6/20/20 at 9:31 am to TulaneLSU
quote:
assume you mean Pirates Cove on Grand Isle. I have spent many a night there -- a story for another night.
Friend, I am really looking forward to that edition of Top 10.
Posted on 6/20/20 at 1:58 pm to TulaneLSU
Posted on 7/10/20 at 11:44 am to TulaneLSU
I just found this thread. I tip my hat to you good Sir! 
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