tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-62125343588944813802024-03-05T18:52:59.623-06:00Suzassippi's Lottabusha County ChroniclesUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger932125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6212534358894481380.post-18496585913455655112018-01-14T11:07:00.000-06:002018-01-14T11:07:26.169-06:00The 37th Day
I am propped up in Dad's bed, eyes scanning the gravel drive for Dad's doves.
He always watched them pick at the bits of rock for their craw,
flying up to rest on a limb before alighting for another round.
The tree branches are bare, grasses brown and covered with the last of the fall leaves.
Sun is shining today, scattering faux diamonds amidst the icy blades of little prisms
reflecting Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6212534358894481380.post-66602369300061379622017-11-14T19:12:00.001-06:002017-11-14T19:12:35.958-06:00Psychodelic Cypress Knees
Downtown Indianola, Mississippi is home to the banks of Indian Bayou, which flows between Main Street and Percy Street. The bald cypress tree, so named because it loses its needles in the fall, forms "knees" with age that grow up out of the water from the roots. There are two primary purposes hypothesized for cypress knees, that of stability in the swampy area in which cypress Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6212534358894481380.post-19801440678278912832017-10-02T20:21:00.000-05:002017-10-02T20:21:07.963-05:00Blessings cleverly disguised as problems
Late last Monday, sis let me know Mom was headed to the ER in Wichita Falls via ambulance, after an ER visit there at home, where she had been sent from the medical clinic. I packed and early Tuesday, left for Texas, arriving at the hospital at 9 that night. My view from the window for the next 3 days, looking out at the rain gave me plenty of time to think when we were not Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6212534358894481380.post-44205936219441231082017-08-15T23:39:00.000-05:002017-08-15T23:39:14.739-05:00Rio, Sis and I mowed your pasture
While I was in Texas this past week, I mowed Rio's corral--the small pasture that surrounded his hay barn, stall, and feeding/watering area. It was late in the evening, and with a breeze blowing. The sun had sunk below the rim and a dusty orange haze lingered over the tall grasses along the creek where his hooves carved little chips in the stones that lined the bed.
The smell ofUnknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6212534358894481380.post-30341905242711171682017-04-22T10:06:00.000-05:002017-04-22T10:06:23.408-05:00Retiring the Lottabusha County Chronicles
Sometimes, it is hard to let go, even when we need to. Sometimes, it requires a little nudge or even a great big push to help us to see that. I will not repeat the stories here (you can read them over at Suzassippi about shutting down the windmill and saying goodbye to Rio), but being in Texas 3 weeks ago and once again dealing with letting go helped me to reach the point to let Unknownnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6212534358894481380.post-64299247302669041532017-02-25T19:14:00.000-06:002017-02-25T19:14:51.569-06:00Reflecting on Reflective Social Work Practice
Several years ago, one of Rand's co-workers sketched a "super-hero" of him as Random Access. It was a tribute to his accessibility and willingness to help with technology issues. First of all, I think RA the person rocks, and second, RA the super hero does willingly make himself accessible--not just at work, but to his family and friends who are always calling on him for Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6212534358894481380.post-48102526401076689372017-02-03T10:14:00.002-06:002017-02-03T10:14:54.399-06:00Cat Light on a Dark Night
It has been another weird week around Lottabusha County. Wearisome. Last night I was tired and cold. I had to catch a ride with R to work as J needed the car. He dropped me on the corner several blocks via a long detour. Construction. A nightmare to drive and worse to walk. Fences, detours, closed streets, half streets--all worsened by the multitude of Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6212534358894481380.post-33344567066524095202017-01-15T12:40:00.001-06:002017-01-15T12:40:37.624-06:00A Metaphor for Aloneness and Togetherness: Waterfowl in New Orleans City Park
Yep, doing all right here by myself. I'm cool. I'm chillin'. This gives me time to think thoughts, and dream dreams, and envision visions.
But at some point in time, we need to consider togetherness and connection. Without that, all the thoughts and dreams and visions do not amount to anything other than noise in our heads. Social Bridges said it Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6212534358894481380.post-63270753286937054772017-01-11T09:31:00.003-06:002017-01-11T09:31:55.520-06:00Wednesday Puzzle
Can you spot the dog in this picture? Remember those puzzles that used to appear in kiddie magazines?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6212534358894481380.post-84870831932426760272017-01-06T11:45:00.002-06:002017-01-06T11:45:43.675-06:00Aluminum Architectural Details in former Shushan Airport
New Orleans former Shushan Airport contains a wealth of architectural Art Deco details. For interior pictures during the 1930s and vintage post card images, see the link at the Restoration of New Orleans Lakefront Airport.
This stairwell post reminds me of a miniature Empire State Building.
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6212534358894481380.post-77829827625081859512016-12-31T19:18:00.001-06:002016-12-31T19:18:14.046-06:00Me and Rio rocking out in Texas sunshineWe made it safely back to Mississippi this afternoon after a whirlwind trip between Christmas and New Year's Day. Sis took off for San Antonio to have late Christmas with her kids, grandkids, and great grandbaby. My Sister by Another Mother and I held down Fort Rio and took care of the parents. It was tag team at its finest. After all this time, my biological sibling Sis Unknownnoreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6212534358894481380.post-55367584136356894762016-12-21T11:40:00.000-06:002016-12-21T11:40:16.741-06:00The time of year for threes
Yesterday I had to go in for lab work at 8 AM, and it seemed like the perfect time to head on up the road to Memphis while I was up and dressed. I made the rounds of my three intended stores and back home by 4 p.m. I splurged on some pecan-crusted pork chops about the size of a roast and put them on...about the same time that I remembered R was staying in town for the Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6212534358894481380.post-18155710685446834562016-12-14T17:18:00.001-06:002016-12-14T17:18:05.088-06:00Could you direct me to the telephone booths, please?
I had just stepped off my flight after landing at New Orleans Shushan Airport...it was sunny, but cool...a typical New Orleans March day...in 1934. The terminal was new, and so was I...a green and untested journalist-wanna-be.
Excuse me, could you direct me to the telephone? I need to call my editor.
I am certain I detected a subtle roll of his eyes as the porter Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6212534358894481380.post-27520818893082767812016-12-10T12:26:00.002-06:002016-12-10T12:26:35.112-06:00"Sure, go on in." Messina's Runway Cafe
Peering through the glass at the stunning Art Deco stools, I was startled by a voice that said, "You can go inside; it's open." Because pretty much the entire airport looked rather deserted, I was not expecting that. All I can say is those New Orleaneans know how to do an airport.
A restoration/renovation project was recently completed, and a mid-century Art Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6212534358894481380.post-6626729198634198552016-12-08T11:01:00.001-06:002016-12-09T22:14:41.446-06:00Segregated Burials--Updated
While searching for family ancestors on my recent trip to Texas, Sis and I found ourselves at the South Bend cemetery nearing sunset. This was not my first exposure in Texas cemeteries of a distinct line of segregation for burying those of Mexican descent.
Three isolated graves, next to the fence in the most remote portion of the cemetery--all three were born and died aroundUnknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6212534358894481380.post-38710372299089074052016-12-04T10:21:00.001-06:002016-12-04T10:21:22.804-06:00Skunk 1, Sisters 0
When I got home Thanksgiving week, sis advised a skunk was under the house. She had been taking Tinka out on a leash after the first night that Tinka ran over in a full charge and got a snootful of eau de Pepe Le Pew. She had closed off the crawl space and winterized the opening with the foil sealant. Sis underestimated the skunk, who merely pushed the foil seal aside and went on Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6212534358894481380.post-29732926612626665952016-11-28T20:59:00.002-06:002016-11-28T20:59:25.897-06:00Talking to RioUnknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6212534358894481380.post-34016219302993503512016-11-27T12:05:00.000-06:002016-11-27T12:05:14.401-06:00Returning from Rio
...the one in Texas. I spent the week in Texas, in the land without Internet. Sometimes, that is not altogether a bad thing. I will catch up soon.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6212534358894481380.post-19271489288892959502016-11-07T08:10:00.000-06:002016-11-07T08:10:44.502-06:00Chaos and Calm
Things have been a discordant pile of chaos lately, in almost any realm, haven't they? It can be hard to try to sort out what is real and what is illusion. Sometimes, we do not even know what it would look like if it was real, so there we are stuck with an illusion of an illusion of real.
The whole "get up and go to work" thing has gotten to be a drag: It is the sameUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6212534358894481380.post-4011616898904908802016-11-03T10:08:00.003-05:002016-11-03T10:08:20.483-05:00Somber thinking spotUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6212534358894481380.post-51460393710856308492016-11-01T22:11:00.000-05:002016-11-01T22:11:08.255-05:00Seriously?Thank you to 37 Paddington for posting this. I cannot stop listening...
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6212534358894481380.post-29222244641156278772016-10-31T08:24:00.001-05:002016-10-31T08:24:49.587-05:00Hotel E F Young, Jr.: Meridian's Black Business District, 1940Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6212534358894481380.post-33380897584570094972016-10-23T13:34:00.002-05:002016-10-23T13:34:40.398-05:00Rocking out at the Old School Theater
My friend and colleague Amy Fisher told me about a new music venue in Water Valley--just a short 20 minute drive away. Luke was playing, along with "world music trio" Agora and Kevin Guyer and the FMA R&B Revue.
Date night was on! We went down to Water Valley in time to eat at El Charrito's--our long time favorite Mexican restaurant for the last 13 years. We pulled into Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6212534358894481380.post-25277115923255496592016-10-21T08:28:00.000-05:002016-10-21T08:28:38.334-05:00George Rodrigue's Blue Dog: "The blue dog is New Orleans"
Probably most of us have seen a picture somewhere of George Rodrigue's Blue Dog. If you were like me, however, you did not know who George Rodrigue was, or how he came to paint the Blue Dog paintings. The 8 foot version of the 3-sided sculpture Rodrigue finally figured out how to create in 2003 stands in the outdoor sculpture garden at New Orleans City Park. A larger version Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6212534358894481380.post-69975987598809066872016-10-17T23:30:00.000-05:002016-10-17T23:30:38.682-05:00Libby says hey
It's been pretty busy here in Lottabusha County, what with all that has been going on personally and professionally of late. I have said several times that I thought I would try to incorporate both blogs (Lottabusha County Chronicles and Suzassippi, formerly known as Suzassippi: Red Shutters). Obviously, I cannot make that break. I might say that it baffles me as to why Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2