grace grits and gardening

ramblings from an arkansas farm girl

Archives for October 2012

Red Cowboy Boots

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This week I am attending a one-week writer’s residency program at Dairy Hollow in Eureka Springs. During this time I will re-post some of my favorite blogs from the prior year. Maybe you missed one? 

originally published 02/09/12…


I could have lived in Nashville. I almost had a date with Buddy Jewell, Osceola’s current claim to fame -the FIRST ever Nashville Star winner! Seriously. I have a love note from Buddy Jewell. He passed it to me after my biology class at Arkansas State, the fall of 1980. He had a class in that same classroom immediately following mine. As I walked out, he was sitting there waiting to go inside, actually playing his guitar. Just kinda messing around on it. Clearly, he was meant to be in Nashville.

I didn’t know him that well – he graduated a couple of years before me – from rival high school Osceola. I was a Rivercrest Colt. Anytime we wanted to irritate “our” boys, or just get their attention, we dated a boy from Osceola… It worked pretty well.
The note was folded up very tightly into a little square. Why would Buddy Jewell be handing me a note? I stuck it in my jeans to save for later. In private. In my dorm room. I couldn’t imagine what it was about. Maybe he wanted to hook up with my roommate? After reading it, I was very surprised. Wow, the first Nashville Star! No, wait, I’m getting ahead of myself….
Apparently it was for real, but we never went out. Way too complicated – I was dating Mark Wooten and transferring to Baylor... he was headed to Nashville – someday. Even so, I stuck the note in my bedroom drawer with all my letters and cards and junk – treasures I had collected throughout my life to that point. Years later, my mother called me to tell me that someone from Osceola was on Nashville Star. Nashville Star? Never heard of it… 

She said, “I think his name is Jewell…?”

Buddy Jewell? Yeah, I know him! I have a love letter from him.

Later, after Buddy won, I dug it out of that drawer and flaunted it to all of my cousins who were duly impressed. (Always hold on to things like that – you just never know.)

Buddy was handsome – no doubt about it. He looked like Patrick Swayze in Dirty Dancing. And that guitar was hot. He carried it everywhere. Obviously he was headed for bigger things. And he was observant – he certainly recognized that I was a Nashville kinda girl. I could have been.

It was probably those Razorback Red Justin cowboy boots I wore – nearly every day – to classes. After I transferred to Baylor, I traded those in for more appropriate ‘Texas-looking’ boots, bought at The Western Fair in Lott – a quick side trip from Waco. All the Baylor freshmen saved their money to buy boots there – a necessity for the Cotton-Eye Joe which we practiced at the fraternal hall in West. The Western Fair smelled of leather and oil, and Lucchese boots were lined up for blocks and blocks. My new boots were brown – a bit more subdued. I couldn’t very well walk around the Baylor campus in Razorback red – the schools weren’t that chummy. I wish I still had those red Justins.

A couple of years ago, right before Christmas, my friend Becky and I, along with her daughter Christie, planned a girl’s trip to Nashville. This was my first trip to Nashville – very exciting for a girl brought up with Conway Twitty and George Jones. I couldn’t contain myself – all those historical sites – the Grand Ole Opry – wow! – Country Music Hall of Fame – I could cross another item off my bucket list. Becky and Christie, on the other hand, seemed to be a bit more interested in visiting all the Nashville malls. We went to at least 3 malls and purchased NOTHING. Only a week before Christmas, parking was horrendous and Christie was determined to park by the front door – very odd for someone with a dedicated workout practice who eats only paleo….

Unless it’s a bookstore or nursery, I don’t like to shop. Secondly, I live in Dallas, 5 minutes from the power of Northpark Mall, with 1.9 million square feet of gross leasable area. It’s probably one of the top 5 malls in the nation based on sales per square foot. Northpark has everything. It’s an incredible place, and I try my best to avoid it at all costs. Becky and Christie were understandably bored with Jonesboro’s retail options – the city only recently got its first escalator.

Becky’s primary goal on this trip was to spot Keith Urban, preferably without Nicole. Honestly, I thought our chances of spotting Keith lunching at Panera on baked potato soup were slim. But we looked. I’m not sure Becky even ate.

We did shop and sightsee – something for everyone… We even worked in a line dance lesson. The absolute highlight for me was seeing Porter Wagoner’s rhinestone jacket and Bocephus’ boots! Buddy Jewell’s college guitar wasn’t exhibited at the Hall of Fame yet, but maybe in time. I don’t remember if any Keith artifacts were there, but I’m sure Becky knows.

A Different Road Taken

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No agenda. No schedule. No dogs. No speeding. I had no reason not to take the scenic route. It was time I became better acquainted with the section of highway between Dallas and Fayetteville. That stretch between hell and heaven I consider boring and monotonous.

Finally I would take one of those often imagined road trips, stopping when I like, reading historical markers, antiquing, whatever. I would find something ok about Oklahoma. 


Two roads diverged in a yellow wood…
First stop… Oklahoma Visitor Center, just north of the Red River. Although I had only been driving 45 minutes, I stopped here to get a free cup of coffee:) Fuel for the road trip.
Next stop… Caddo. A sign pointing to the Indian Territory Museum easily lured me off the beaten path. Inside, a treasure trove of artifacts along with two little ladies who seemed thrilled at the prospect of a RealLiveVisitor. They asked me to sign the guest book. I felt like such the tourist. 
Indian Territory Museum, Caddo, Ok

Leaving Caddo, I drove past a serene church, the clapboard siding and sky the same color. (I’m a sucker for steeples.)
Caddo Ok Church

Next stop… Cimmaron Cellars near Caney. It was not quite noon and I found myself at a free wine tasting. This was shaping up to be a truly good day. I did spend $3.95 on a little pot of blackberry wine jelly. Buying something seemed the polite thing to do, and I didn’t much want to head to Fayetteville with a bottle of Sooner Red…
Cimmaron Cellars Grapes

Next… Atoka. Home of the Wampus Cats. The site of my first speeding ticket since 1983. Since the Atokans so desperately want folks to c-r-a-w-l through their fair tiny town, I decided to really give it the once over, even parade waving while driving oh-so-slowly by the Atoka jailhouse before heading straight to the Antique Store. With antiques and garden art spilling onto the sidewalk, it catches my eye each time I whip through. Full of china and crystal and silver and art and vintage everything, it did not disappoint! I almost bought a hardback Edgar Allan Poe book, but how many Poe books does one need? And, I almost bought a vintage red apron but resisted. Get thee behind me, Atoka. 
Atoka, Ok

I rewarded myself for Not Buying Another Egg Dish by stopping at a roadside fruit stand near Stringtown. The nicest little man who appeared to live in his camper sold me amazing plums and peaches for $8. Seemed a bit pricey, but they were fragrant and beautiful. And he was the nicest little man…
Oklahoma Fruitstand Man

Just around the corner I visited the Stringtown Cemetery. Down a deserted gravel road. No GPS I’m sure. Nowhere, Oklahoma. Old, old graves. Very Halloweeny. I could have wandered around for hours, but the wind was whipping down the plains with the first cold front of the season. Frigid.
Stringtown Cemetery

Last side stop – Eufaula. A quick trip inside Steel Daffodils on the charming square where I passed up all the cute Halloween decor and Moon Pies, opting for fresh brewed iced tea instead. 

Near the park, a historical marker. The only marker I stopped to read, and it was about a poet/writer… perfect.

And the grand finale… I Smell Bacon. A must see for the name alone. Outside, the parking lot was packed. Inside, a pan of freshly made buttermilk biscuits was pulled from the oven as if choreographed especially for me. Six vats of homemade soups lined the countertop. I chose chicken tortilla ($5.99) and passed on the biscuits. Difficult. 

Eufaula, Ok

The exclamation point to my drive, dinner and a wild card game of War with my father-in-law. A recent widower, he’s just sitting, going through the motions, waiting, trying to cope. Once again I am reminded life is fleeting.

I arrived in Fayetteville well after dark yet relaxed and at ease after my hayseed tour of Route 69. Plus I bonded a bit with those Sooners.

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference. 

Eerie Halloween

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Halloween is one of the best nights in my neighborhood.  Front yards become cemeteries, porches are haunted, witches fly through canopied live oaks on invisible wires. Fog drifts above the streets while Tubular Bells plays in the distance. I’ve seen grown men run down the sidewalk screaming…
One hundred year old houses with old porches and towering trees make for a perfect Halloween neighborhood, but we don’t stop on the outside. Inside we channel The Addams Family. I’m thinking a Haunted Halloween Home Tour would be a big hit…
Things around the house, already used, tarnished, rusty, and broken, appear realistically eerie in dim lighting. I stop polishing silver after Easter, which gives platters and pitchers the perfect patina for Halloween. Throw in some dead flowers, fried from the long hot summer, add a few gnarly sticks, and you have a haunting arrangement for the dining room table. (Ok full disclosure…. I only polish silver at Easter and Christmas.)
Mismatched, unused or oddly colored candlesticks, spray painted flat black, make Pottery Barn-like decorations. 
An old doll head is bizarre in the china hutch. 
A haphazardly arranged stack of mystery and sic-fi books on the mantle sets the tone.
In the fall as I walk the dogs, I begin dumpster diving, dragging home things for Halloween. Last year I found a mannequin on the side of the street. I carried her home, gave her a coat of paint, and she became an instant hit. The Schnauzers barked at her until November.
 talya
Musical Pairing:

Food. Farm. Garden. Life.

THANKS FOR READING!