grace grits and gardening

ramblings from an arkansas farm girl

Archives for 2012

Driving Home

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I enjoyed the drive from the lake to my mother’s house, a drive I had not made in years. Since college, I leave the lake driving in the opposite direction to Texas.
Lake City
The trip is much, much faster now, the roads better and wider with turn lanes. Before, you could get stuck behind a rock hauler and spend half the drive going 30 mph, adding hours to the trip. Although portions of the drive were the same, some sections were unrecognizable. New highways dotted with Sonics and Exxons completely bypassed the Kreme Kastles of all the charming small towns. The cool bridge in Lake City has been totally rebuilt, with only a small section of the original structure remaining for historical purposes. My sister and I always held our breath driving over that bridge. Every bridge for that matter.

The memories flooded me. Things I haven’t seen or thought of in years.
I studied the trees, wondering which of the tallest ones watched us drive this route years ago. Years ago in Momma’s pale yellow Cadillac convertible loaded with kids and Samsonite suitcases and groceries and bright orange life jackets. One year the convertible top broke and we were forced to drive all the way home with the top down. Sunburned and windy it was miserable. And took forever.
Abruptly on the other side of Hardy, the hills disappear and miles and miles of farm land stretch from the road to the horizon on both sides. Rows and rows of cotton and soybeans. As a kid this was always a jolt to the heart, knowing the lake was far behind us.
This time the drive was different. I was happy to see farmland. The corn was tall and I was excited to see white and pink cotton blooms signaling cotton bolls tomorrow.
Another season. Another time. New memories.

talya
Musical Pairings:
Who Says You Can’t Go Home, Bon Jovi & Jennifer Nettles

Land of the Lost

By

Taylor (my niece) and I were having severe internet withdrawal yesterday. She needed to download a book for her Kindle and I needed to blog. Temporarily living in the Land of the Lost, we are lucky to even get television reception.

We went to the Osceola Public Library for a quickie wi-fi adventure. The lady on duty checked my driver’s license and assigned us to study carrel 10. It was the only vacant one. She insisted we sit in the carrel, as if she was responsible for filling all the seats on the Tilt-a-Whirl before starting the ride.
Me: Can’t we just sit at one of the reading tables?
Library Lady: The internet doesn’t work there.  (Four yards away??)
Me: (Puzzled. Shouldn’t it work everywhere inside the library?)
Ignoring her direction, Taylor and I spread our things on the reading table, excited to soon connect with the outside world. Several networks popped up, all locked. Having spent time at this library before, I knew the drill although it does vary slightly with each visit.
Back to the front desk:
Me: Which network is the library? (Showing her my screen. There were several options.)
Library Lady: (Reading from a secret hidden paper beneath the counter.) It’s 877456566.
Me: (Puzzled. Again.) Isn’t that the password? First, I need to know which is the library network.
Library Lady: Well, they haven’t told me that yet. 
Me: So do you think one of these might be the library?
Library Lady: Probably the AT&T one. Yes AT&T. Maybe. (She was becoming flustered.)
It wasn’t the AT&T one. At least not with those secret numbers she gave me.
Me: That wasn’t the right network. (My head was beginning to spin.)
Library Lady: Look you really need to sit in carrel 10 for it to work. (Getting a bit snippity.)
Me: Why?
Library Lady: I don’t know. I’m just a part-timer.
Returning to the table with the secret numbers in my head, I tried every network including the dentist across the street. None of them worked. Just for grins, Taylor and I went to study carrel 10 to see if it was magical. Dangling inside was the hard wire to plug in for connection. The plug was larger than my MacBook Air. 
Avoiding the lady at the front who was beginning to look like a Sleestack, we left the library undetected. Driving slowly around town with my MacBook open in my lap, Taylor and I trolled for unsecure wi-fi. As Taylor occasionally announced, here’s one(!), I pulled over attempting to connect. I thought someone on Hale Street might have an unsecure network. No. We thought the Catholic Charities might be generous enough to share. Nope. Secure. The entire town of Osceola is amazingly secure. Or completely without.

Osceola Days Inn
Free Internet + Biscuits and Gravy!
Finally, the manager of the Days Inn generously allowed us to use the motel’s free wi-fi as we loitered in the lobby. It was very nice and clean and comfortable. Taylor downloaded her book and I published a blog about Chatty Cathy.
We returned to the Bat Cave feeling like we had just survived a rickety ride on a Tilt-a-Whirl. 
Taylor partaking in free wi-fi @ Days Inn

talya

Musical Pairings:

Land of the Lost Theme Song

If you’ve been in the Land of the Lost that much longer than we have, you ought to know by now that not everything here is logical. Will Marshall, Land of the Lost

Project Laundry

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After a fun-filled week at the lake, my niece and I are spending several days at my mother’s house in Osceola (aka the Bat Cave). After a week at the lake, the dirty laundry is piled high. Lake dirty. Sandy and damp and pre-mildewy. Sunday night after sorting everything into giant mounds, we began the task of washing clothes.
Two hours later over take-out pizza, we came to the sober realization the dryer wasn’t working properly – heating but not tumbling, the clothes steamy but still wet. The dryer is ancient so it was no wonder. But could there be a worse time for a breakdown? After a week at the lake…

Monday morning sporting my cleanest dirty shirt and shorts, I loaded up two enormous overflowing baskets of clothes and set out to find a laundromat in Osceola. It’s been years since I’ve been to a laundromat. College days maybe?
I found one fairly easily.  Unloading the baskets, I was already glowing from the early morning humidity. Trying to remain vigilant and acutely aware that the town’s landscape has changed drastically from my day, I had one of those moments. Those life-flashing-before-my-eyes moments. It happened when I realized the laundromat was wedged between the former Jr Food Mart we frequented as teenagers and the dilapidated abandoned Sonic we circled on summer nights in high school. I saw my younger self parked in my yellow Corvette, carefree, laughing and flirting with cute Osceola boys. Eating a #2 with tots before irritable bowel syndrome clamped my stomach like a vise. Back when Momma’s dryer was new.
Thirty-three years later at 7:15 a.m., I am unshowered and dragging smelly clothes baskets from my hail-ridden vehicle into the sauna-like laundromat. The super cool new Sonic sits on the edge of town holding no memories for me. My stomach is bloated from eating too much gluten… 
Inside, there was only one patron. Chatty Cathy. With several machines already humming and a load folded on the wooden table, she had obviously been there a while. We became instant friends bonded by no home appliances and reeking clothing. Taking me under her tatted wing she pointed out the best washing machines and which specific dryers to avoid. I became her project.
Chatty Cathy
Chatty Cathy: None of them dryers work very good. They only cost fifty cents but that won’t do nothing. You’ll be feeding quarters in all mornin’.
Sweaty Talya: (oh goodie.) Ok well I have a roll of quarters and one load is already partially dry so maybe it won’t be so bad.
Chatty Cathy: Nope. You’ll be needin all them quarters.
Sweaty Talya: (why oh why did I tell her about my whole roll of quarters? Stupid….)
Chatty Cathy: I only do laundry onct a month. That’s today.
Sweaty Talya: Once a month? Wow, you must have a lot of laundry.
Chatty Cathy: You know it girl. You from Texas? (she could read. I was wearing my Dallas Mavericks t-shirt for the third day in a row.)
Sweaty Talya: Yes, Dallas.
Chatty Cathy: DAL-LAS!!! Ya-hoo!!!(very very excited) Never been there but I was born in El Paso.
Sweaty Talya: Oh yeah? I’ve been there a few times.
Chatty Cathy: I don’t remember it. Moved when I was 3. Live in Luxora now. (hyena laughing here….)
Sweaty Talya:  Oh. Well I’m actually from Osceola. Just visiting my mom.
Chatty Cathy: Where’s she live?
Sweaty Talya: (oh like I’m gonna tell you.) Just down the road. Not far.
Chatty Cathy: Well that’s good.
Sweaty Talya: Did you graduate from Luxora High School? (did she graduate? please, please don’t say Rivercrest…)
Chatty Cathy: Nope. Caraway High School. Lived in Caraway then. (Lighting up a cigarette.)
Sweaty Talya: What year?
Chatty Cathy: 1980.
Sweaty Talya: (omg.) Really? Me too. (seriously? we are the same age???)
Chatty Cathy: WE DONE TURNED 50 THIS YEAR! CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?? (more hyena laughing with arms swinging overhead like doing the wave at a football game…)
Sweaty Talya: (hell) No I cannot. (I was shocked.)
Chatty Cathy: You don’t mind if I smoke do you, I should of axed you already.
Sweaty Talya: Of course not. (totally adding to the ambiance.)
I considered having a cigarette too at this point… but I remembered I don’t smoke.
Two and a half scorching hot hours later, I finished the laundry, drove straight to the super new Sonic for a Route 44 iced tea, very grateful for air conditioning and excellent dental care. Thankful for my life.
I suppose Chatty Cathy went back to Luxora.
interesting….
sweaty talya

Musical Pairing

If Heaven Ain’t A lot Like Dixie, Hank Williams, Jr.

Food. Farm. Garden. Life.

THANKS FOR READING!