grace grits and gardening - ramblings from an arkansas farm girl

Hot Springs, Arkansas: Family Tradition

April 10, 2012 By Talya Tate Boerner

Oaklawn Park, Hot Springs, Ar

Traditions keep families together. It’s the Elmer’s glue. Even silly things like boating around each summer on Lake Norfork in a non-seaworthy, faded orange boat. I’m glad we didn’t win that big bright red obnoxious shiny boat at Oaklawn Park in Hot Springs on St. Paddy’s Day. Talk about totally ruining a family tradition. We would probably have to act normal in a nice new boat.

Although, had I won, I would have jumped up and down, high-fiving the jockey who pulled my name from the hat, thrilled to death and excited for all of Oaklawn Park to witness. The lady who won gave a seemingly embarrassed, half-assed parade wave with a fake smile. That’s it. Pit-ee-ful. She wasn’t even wearing green. And I’d bet a dime to a donut she’s already sold that boat.

Even small things become important traditions, like having strawberry cake on your birthday and Friday night Tex-Mex.

Burchwood Bay

When we were kids we vacationed at Burchwood Bay in Hot Springs with the Barnetts and Jarretts, long-time family friends. The cute little cabins surrounded a general store with lake access waaaayyy down the hill. Craig (one of the Barnett boys and one of my very best friends to this day) nearly drowned my sister in that lake, throwing rocks at her from the bank until she couldn’t get back on the giant tractor inner tube. Daddy saved her. Craig was a menace.

The little store was our favorite – it was filled with candy and ice cream and postcards and tiny jars of Arkansas ‘diamonds’ and quartz. Yes, we played with rocks. But the best part – Craig said everything was free for guests! At the end of the week we discovered nothing there was really free…Craig’s daddy had a charge account. Oops. That general store is now Sam’s Pizza – we go back every year after a day of ‘feeding the horses’ for the best pizza in Hot Springs. The cabins are much smaller and the lake is much closer. Strange how that happened.

Burchwood Bay ‘then’

Burchwood Bay cabins ‘now’
Craig smashed a lizard in the door of the pink cabin…

We recently visited Craig’s mom who now lives in Hot Springs. Although she doesn’t get out much any more, she has an amazing view of the lake with fantastic bird watching. All the familiar pictures and furniture from her home in Keiser, where I spent so much time growing up, filled the comfortable house on the lake. Before we left she commented, “You can live a long time on memories.” So true.

Me and Ruth Barnett

Musical Pairings:

Hank Williams, Jr., “Family Tradition”
Jerry Garcia, “Arkansas Traveler”

Craig,Bob,Bill

Ruth’s Yard:)

Trash or Treasure?

April 9, 2012 By Talya Tate Boerner

I enjoying spending an occasional afternoon wandering around flea markets and estate sales, looking for some old hidden antique. But I hate having a garage sale and trying to peddle my own junk. I’d like to pretend my time is worth more than the $200 I might earn in dollar bills and quarters. Even in my current happily unemployed state, I could be doing something more productive like scrubbing my toilets or weeding the flower beds. Nevertheless, every ten years like clockwork a moment of temporary insanity comes over me like strep throat, and I succumb.

Last weekend my neighbor had a sale complete with two porcelain toilets, a snowboard and the requisite two ton treadmill. In preparation, she posted pictures on Facebook and friends asked 1) if it was debris from the recent Dallas tornadoes, 2) if she was a hoarder, or 3) if she had kicked her husband and his stuff out onto the lawn. Her husband responded with, “Does someone have a stick? Would someone please poke me in the eye.” He hates garage sales too.

It’s funny how one day you are happily living with those objects in your house and the next morning before sunrise you’ve thrown the mess outside like dirty dish water. Those faded t-shirts that you were wearing just last week look so different strewn around the front yard with strangers rummaging through them, don’t they?

Last year John and I had a garage sale along with several families on our block. John disappeared for thirty minutes and returned with a set of bowling pins and a heavy meat grinder he bought from our next door neighbors. Really? This totally defeated the purpose. Why didn’t we all just swap our crap around the neighborhood at the next porch party without exchanging money? Or how about “I’ll give you one of my dollars for those books and you give me one of your dollars for my old towels?” Deal!

The next time John shoots a deer, I will be able to grind up meat and make deer sausage for the neighbors. If you know anything about John, you know we are much more likely to buy a bowling alley.