by Glenda Barrett
Now, if you’ll bait your hook with one of these worms and spit on it, you might get a bite.
Mamaw advised, as we sat side by side on the muddy creek bank in North Georgia getting our lines ready to cast into the dark, green water.
When Mamaw’s arthritic hands became tired, she’d prop her crooked cane pole up in front of her on a forked stick. Next, she’d open her cotton, drawstring bag, take out her Dental Sweet Snuff and put a pinch in her mouth. Then, with a look of pure contentment, she’d lean back and watch for a nibble. Once she offered me a taste, but it didn’t take me long to see that I could turn it down forever.
Usually we dug our own worms, but sometimes we’d go to the bait shop. Once, when I was around nine years old, we found a lot of worms while gardening, but we didn’t have a can to put them in. Mamaw asked me to carry them home in my hands. We had started along the road to her house, when the worms began crawling around. It didn’t take long, until that became so unbearable I threw them
by Elaine Rosenberg Miller
The sea was green. An hour or so earlier, it had been steel gray. Now, like some animated blanket, the verdant water cover spread towards their eighteen-foot motorboat.
She had never been on the sea before, having been born and raised in a large, noisy city.
The silence and empty space of the horizon were unsettling.
The boat was made of fiberglass. Discarded beer cans rolled on its bottom. The vinyl seats were worn and cracked, the plastic windshield dull …
They had borrowed the boat for the day.
She held her fishing pole lamely in her hand, reluctant to reel in the line, lest she discover that she had no bait and would have to reach into the bucket and pinion a squirrelly, tomato seed-eyed shrimp.
The boat had no radio, no flares and no water.
Feelings of restlessness swelled her body.
“What am I doing here?” she thought.
She would have liked to have stayed back in the apartment and work the crossword puzzle in the out of town newspaper. The local paper published announcements of picnics, bible meetings and the county fair.
“I can’t live in a place that has no sidewalks,” she had cried.
But he asked her to stay. It was his hometown.
The magic of Louis Armstrong's last years by Ricky Riccardi.
Only 6 days are left in our Snowball Photo Contest, and we want to tell you about a great exhibit related to the icy treat. Our contest ends July 31, as does the Southern Food & Beverage Museum's "Summer Sno-Balls in New Orleans" exhibit. With rotating exhibits about Southern foods and drinks, we can't think of anything better for the museum to focus on during the summertime than snowballs.
From the museum's website: "Snoballs are the classic symbol of the New Orleans summer. Sweet, brightly colored, and impossibly delicious, this icy treat has been helping Southerners cool off since the snoball machine was invented. The snoball is unique in the flavored ice world for the lightness and quality of the shaved ice as well as the enormous selection of flavors found at almost every snoball stand. With a stand or a shop on nearly every corner of New Orleans, the snoball takes an important place in the culinary scene of the city."
On view are machines and artifacts from Hansen's Snow-Blitz and Southern Snow Company. Hansen's founder Ernest Hansen claims to have invented the first ice shaving machine in 1939, and his wife, Mary, created her own flavored syrups. Today, Hansen's still
by Natalie Cochran
Prop open that skullcap and let me peer down into the prurient and the crazy.
We’re stretched out on southern grounds and rooftops,
wrapped up in makeshift blankets,
sky enveloped around us like a flipped over deep dish.
Your camera lens blinks like an eye,
claps with applause as it cements sights,
storing melee as memory:
brew house brouhahas, bacchic pontifications.
Memories amalgamate sleepy city-scene postcards.
Remember your tumble-down dodge that died when it hit puddles?
Or what about lying with the seats leaned back,
reclining on restricted runways,
exchanging powdered sugar smiles?
Soundtrack a swarm of jet engines buzzing like a beehive.
Who-knows-who vanishing into God-knows-where.
I didn’t care, as long as you were there to swallow me up.
Growing up in a military family, Natalie Cochran moved frequently, often landing in Southern territory of Louisiana, Alabama and Florida. Although her roots are stretched across the United States and Europe, she holds fast to her Southern heritage. She currently lives in Mobile and attends the University of South Alabama.
Spotlight on a Southern blog about life in New Orleans.
We continue our ongoing feature highlighting blogs throughout the South with one from The Big Easy today. Marketing executive Arthur Smith writes the blog "Calliope Street" from his ground floor apartment on Burgundy and Esplanade Avenue on the edge of the New Orleans French Quarter. Described as "mispronounces about life in New Orleans and the big world beyond," Smith gets into the mispronounces part right away with his choice of blog name.
A street that runs through the central part of the city, Calliope is correctly pronounced KAL-ee-ope, and New Orleanians can spot a tourist from a mile away just from their mispronunciation of this word. By the way, Smith's street name of Burgundy is pronounced Bur-GUN-dee.
Smith's blog doesn't take itself that seriously, though. Post topics range from a morning walk through the Quarter to activity along the Mississippi River as flood waters were rising and Palm Sunday in the city. The best part? Smith is also an excellent photographer, and most posts are heavy on photos of New Orleans sites and people. We love his photo below, titled "Debauchery at Pontchartrain Beach."
Earlier this summer, Smith captured a group of Russians
Residents and tourists of St. Simons Island, Georgia, might be familiar with a concession stand called The Snow Shack. A snowcone business owned and operated by couple Charlie and Melissa Turner (pictured with their two kids on the right), the "shack" can be found at the East Beach concession stand. The Turners specialize in organic syrups in flavors like raspberry lemonade and Georgia peach, and would like to take their snowcone show on the road year-round. A Kickstarter campaign was unfortunately unsuccessful in raising funds for a true shack on wheels, but the Turners aren't giving up. Visit them at St. Simons Island and contact them through Kickstarter to help support their snowcone dream.
Deep South intern Jake Cole interviewed Melissa about her snowcones and her plans to bring them further South as part of our summer focus on some of the South's best snowball stands. Submit your favorite stand to our Snowball Photo Contest for the chance to win Cypress Tees' "Cajun Sneaux" t-shirt and a few additional prizes in the works.
Why did you decide to start selling snowcones?
My husband, Charlie, is a pastor. We left a comfortable, well-paying church job to join a much smaller church in downtown Brunswick,
by Sarah Matalone
Celebrating summer's most coveted fruit, the Attack of the Killer Tomato Festival returns to Atlanta on July 17 for the third year in a row. Since its inception, the festival has drawn a variety of the Southeast's best chefs, farmers and mixologists. JCT. Kitchen & Bar, an Atlanta-based restaurant whose specialty is what Chef/Owner Ford Fry calls "Southern farmstead cooking" - think buttermilk-brined fried chicken, fried apple pie, chopped salad and a citified version of chicken and dumplings - plays host for the tomatoey shindig. When I talked with Chef Fry, he explained what led to the creation of such a killer event. "Georgia has amazing tomatoes in the summertime, from heirlooms to little cherries and sungolds," he says. "Typically in late July, our local farmers have tons of tomatoes and need to sell them. And, I've always wanted to hold a crazy fun food event at JCT. and our surrounding property."
In addition to showcasing the state's bounty of tomatoes, the festival pits chef against chef, mixologist against mixologist, in a competition for the best recipe. Chefs pair up with local farmers to create unique, tomato-based dishes for festival goers to sample, while mixologists fashion some accompanying tomato-based cocktails. After the slicing,
For music lovers, there’s no better time than now to visit “Sweet Home Alabama.”
by Bobby L. Hickman
Alabama state leaders have designated 2011 the “Year of Alabama Music” to salute the many artists, events and destinations that make the state a unique draw for music lovers from all genres. Communities across Alabama are pulling out all the stops this year to draw musically inclined visitors. So this summer and fall provide the perfect time to hear live music at concert halls, parks and juke joints; visit the birthplaces of legends; explore recording studios and museums; or enjoy music-themed festivals throughout the state.
The list of Alabama musical artists covers a wide range of genres over the past century. There’s Hank Williams ( both Sr. and Jr.), Jimmy Buffett, Wilson Pickett, Chuck Leavell of the Allman Brothers Band, Clarence Carter, Emmylou Harris, Lionel Ritchie, “American Idol” contestants Bo Bice, Taylor Hicks and Ruben Studdard -- and of course, country supergroup “Alabama.”
Muscle Shoals has the Swampers …
When many people think of Alabama music, their first thought is often Muscle Shoals. And why not? For more than 100 years, the Shoals area has played a major role in the development of American music – from