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Statuary…

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This is Eleanor. She has graced a secluded place beneath a clump of dogwood trees in our garden for over ten years. The angel was given to us during a dark season of grief. I never called my husband’s mother by her given name- Eleanor. From the moment the statuary angel was put in place, she has been Eleanor to me. I look at her everyday from my kitchen window- from the street she is unseen- if you go to the side yard, down a long curved path, there is a round circle of purple irises with a large urn in the center- beyond a pair of fruit trees, your eye is drawn to Eleanor. My mother in law died in early spring right before the dogwoods begin to bloom. Tiny daffodils bloom at her feet. Statuary in the home or garden should have meaning, Eleanor does; she is a sweet reminder of my gentle mother in law every day. She was an angel.

The great cities of the world have iconic statuary. New York-

Santa Fe’s Canyon Road has incredible sculpture and statuary-

Great statuary, no matter where it is, should have significance, purpose and a sense of place.  What would the Statue of Liberty look like surrounded by gnomes, pigs, baskets, urns and rabbits?  IMG_0899 (Edited)

There is a place for whimsy in our world, yet even whimsical statuary should have significance, purpose and a sense of place. The statuary planter on the back porch is an example of whimsy. Whenever I have acquired statuary, the piece has found me, not the other way around. If you are shopping, don’t overlook local plant nurseries or shops, they will often have a good selection at reasonable prices.

I happen to love statuary in great cities, in shopping areas, in public gardens, in cemeteries, on battlegrounds or playgrounds- in public buildings, homes and in cathedrals…

Let me show you how we have used some statuary in Camellia’s Cottage…

Each piece follows the design principles I believe in…significance, beauty, whimsy, mystery, scale, focal point, texture, purpose, emotion and a sense of place. To find a few small birds beneath a big basket of homegrown hydrangeas, to have a muse looking over my shoulder as I read a book, to perch a facepot on a pedestal as a whimsical reminder to save for a rainy day, to discover a bird in hand or a tiny bird poised in flight beneath a map of our home county, to bring the outside in with a heavy urn and a wise old man- those things have a place of significance without saying one word. The statuary, large or small, are gentle memories and peaceful inspiration for our sweet home in Alabama.

Love y’all, Camellia

*This post is written in loving memory of my mother in law, Eleanor McKinney Wyatt.IMG_0666

 

 

 

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Pit Barbeque…

 

Three Barbeques, Two Fish Fries, One Pancake Breakfast, a Wedding and a Funeral- all in one day. No time to change in between…if this was a fashion blog I could tell you what to wear- a black dress. Fill a bag with accessories, several pairs of shoes, make up, a damp rag and deodorant. It got me through and we had the time of our lives! I don’t hold a world record on attending events- my husband probably deserves a medal.  We’ve gone to so many Barbeques, we might claim expert status on tasting barbeque. Mastering a pit is an entirely different skill.  Real Pit Barbeque is cooked 10-12 hours…this isn’t backyard grilling.  There’s no doubt in my mind that American Pit Barbeque originated in the South- poor rural folks, fattened a few pigs- so  fresh pork was cheap and available.Raw Peanuts

Alabama’s own -George Washington Carver  taught the art of growing peanuts right here in Alabama; Smithfield Hams of Virginia were known for fattening their hogs on peanuts.  What fattens a hog, fattens human beings, y’all. Boiled or roasted peanuts are almost always found near Pit Barbeque;  shells strewn on the floor add ambience and soak up the grease.  Most farms had a smokehouse for hams and bacon. No part of the hog was wasted. Fresh pork was Pit Smoked to feed harvest workers on large farms, to celebrate or commiserate. The love of barbeque knows no social class. We all love it.

Southern Pit Barbeque ventured off the farms to become Backroad joints, Dives and Honky Tonks. The old ones had a ‘risque’ feel to them. My mother once whined – ‘We can’t take these children in there! Folks are drinkin’ and no tellin’ what all..’; which made the joint even more appealing to children and menfolks. I heard a BBQ Pit Master say: ‘I feed this pit some whiskey every night.’  I’m not sure what he was talking about- however, the combination did exist. You can’t get good barbeque in a chain restaurant– the quality goes down by miles. In fact, folks will drive for miles down blacktop, gravel, or dusty red roads out in the middle of nowhere- just to find a real Pit Barbeque joint. If you’re willing to drive backroads-

  •  scented with Loblolly pines,
  • look for hand written signs-
  • roll down the windows-
  • follow the fragrant wood smoke- That’s where real Pit Barbeque is cooked.
  • Rusted out trucks and dented cars are a good sign;
  • Then look for grimy folks who tend the pit round the clock.
  • BBQ joints are often charred shacks or a blackened concrete block buildings- usually near a small creek to douse the flames.

I have a letter written close to 50 years ago, telling about a shack, a hot plate with a pot of dried beans and a ‘Still -right ready to make up whiskey’  when a fire broke out.  I’m just sayin’ – they had to augment their incomes and somebody must have been feeding a pit somewhere.

Pit Masters are a rare breed– those men are browned to perfection either by birth, the hot southern sun or a combination of both. They are soot streaked, well greased, smoke tinged, and speckled with burn marks up and down their arms. Their aprons are soiled and smeared. Listen to me- never trust a Pit Master who has on a starched white apron– he hasn’t been near a Real Pit and don’t know nothin’ ’bout it!  Pit Barbeque was the usual fare for private parties, political rallies, mysterious Barbeque Clubs, fundraisers and Church Picnics. I’m not sure how church picnics got on the short list– maybe a pit man escaped serious injury, the revenuers or was alone one spooky moonlit night and found Jesus. Of course, there have been many slurs against those of us who enjoy barbeque- calling us hogs, saying we root around or grunt like a pig when we eat it. We endure the ribbing because we know how good Pit Barbeque is for the soul- Southerners can get downright Evangelical about it.

Great Pit Barbeque is born in hot fiery coals. Don’t let anyone tell you- the secret is in the sauce. Whole families would argue me down about this- but if the meat isn’t good, you can’t cover it up or smother it with any amount of sauce and make it taste good. Now here’s how to order-

  • Fold your hands in prayer;
  • Contemplate whether you want it sliced, pulled or chopped; Amen.
  • Baptize it with whatever sauce you like: Red, White, Vinegar based, Sticky, Thin or Thick; Hot, Mild or fire on the tongue-hot! Your choice.
  • Snort, snort, uh-ah, grunt, Soo-ey!  Sorry about that hog-callin’,
  • I like my Barbeque – Chopped Outside Lean- if you don’t understand the lingo, I can’t help you!

One of my favorite local joints is affectionately called the Texa-que, a combo gas station and Pit Barbeque. The real name is Butts to Go. The blackened cylinder pits, the stacks of hardwood, the fragrant smoke billowing up- slows you down, your stomach makes guttural sounds. Butts to Go also smokes hams and turkeys which are to die for; wonderful comfort food for a bereaved family. Spicy hot food, like Pit Barbeque is considered inappropriate funeral food. But if you’re ever on I-20E toward the Talledega Super Speedway,  watch for the signs- pull over, you’ll be glad you did.

From the first bite you’ll know – you’re either a Hog or Evangelical about Pit Barbeque by the sounds that come out of your mouth. I’ve said it before: Southern Food Tales are part passion, part potion and part outright lies. Butts to Go is the real deal.

Love y’all, Camellia

* A big thank you to Wade Reich for allowing me to use his Butts to Go logo and website photo from http://www.buttstogo.com

All others are AOL Images, if any are not public domain or copyrighted  I will be glad to make the corrections or remove the photographs.

Check out http://www.smithfieldhams.com too!

 

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Sunday Inspiration…

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A Collage of Verses which Guide me for your Sunday Inspiration

‘You are His Masterpiece…’ Ephesians 2:10

There is only one you- you are an incredible work of art-  a Masterpiece! You have gifts to offer us that no one else has; things only you can do for mankind. Please remember this, we need you. Bless our world with what only you can bring to us.

‘Do not neglect the gift which is in you…practice, cultivate and meditate upon your gift…throw yourself wholly into them…look well to yourself, your own unique personality…persevere in these things…hold to them as if your very life depends on it..’ 1 Timothy 4:14-16

Your best life depends on the gifts that are within you! What we do with our lives is not even half as important as what we become. Live wholeheartedly using your own unique personality, for in truth? Your very life depends on how you choose to live it each day.

‘I am calling up memories of your sincere faith, passed down to you from your grandmother and your mother- reminding you to stir up your gifts, re-kindle the embers, fan the flames… keep the inner fire burning of the gracious gifts of God that are in you… 2 Timothy 1:6

If you don’t know where to start? Get historical– remember that which was done well with passion from the most creative places within you- when your inner fire was burning and what came out of the forge was useful and beautiful. Don’t allow the gracious gifts of God within you to simmer on the backburner. The world needs every gracious gift only you can bring.

For God has not given you a spirit of fear but of power and of love and of a calm and well-balanced mind, of discipline and self control.’ 2 Timothy 1:6-7

God has not given you a spirit of fear! Anyone or anything who provokes fear in your heart- is not from God. Those who would stir up fear render us helpless and unsettled. Self controlled, loving, calm and well balanced minds are powerful forces for good. What will you choose? Fear? or Calm and Well Balanced Minds? Use those qualities as a yardstick to measure character.

 ‘Let no foul or polluting language, unwholesome or worthless talk come out of your mouth; but only beneficial to the progress of others, as is fitting to the need and of the occasion, that it may be a blessing to those who hear it.’ Ephesians 4:29

‘Let all bitterness and indignation, wrath, rage, bad temper, resentment, anger and quarreling, contention, slander and abusive language be banished from you, with all malice, spite, ill will of any kind- And become useful, helpful and kind to one another, tenderhearted, compassionate, understanding, and forgiving with loving kindness as God in Christ forgave you’.  Ephesians 4:31-32

Words are powerful– spoken or written- either cause bruises or heal them- your choice. Folks that get others ‘riled up and angry’ or folks that help us ‘settle down and be hopeful’; these are two more measures of mankind for me- Learn along with me to reject angry voices- Heated, mean spirited quarrels have never built a better mankind.

‘Whatever your task, work at it heartily- from the soul, as something done for God…making the very most of your time…’ Colossians 3:23 and 4:5

No matter what-make the very most of your time. Live wholeheartedly, life is too short for  halfheartedly living, accepting the mediocre is unacceptable. Make the very most of your time.

‘Love one another, as I have loved you…By this shall all men know that you are My Disciples, if you have love one toward another.’  John 13: 34-35  

I hope you have stayed with me- this is the most important of all of the verses! Read it again- ‘by this shall all men know you are Mine’… There it is! The Distinquishing Mark! This is: how you will know what is authentic and what is a poor imitation of almost anyone. How we view others, how well we treat other human beings says everything about true character.  All of us are human beings- far too many are broken, beaten down by life and shattered dreams. The true test of our humanity is how well we show love to one another. This old world is heavy handed- hardened and sore in too many places… How much better would the world be if we chose to walk softly and leave that big stick behind? Look for the distinquishing mark, the engravings…resolve to live your best life, make the most of your time, use your words carefully, keep the measuring tape with you and don’t forget what a masterpiece you are!

 Love y’all, Camellia

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*The beautiful beginning and ending scenes- were photographed at the lovely Hotel St. Francis in the historic district of Santa Fe, New Mexico- a very inspiring place to be.

*Verses originate from the KJV-Amplified Version of the Bible.

 

 

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Glorious July Miracles…

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Just when the heat of July slows me down to a southern drawl… a miracle happens. It sneaks up on me every year. When hydrangea blossoms look like tight pincurls, when roses sulk- fed up with the humidity; the front porch ferns whine for church fans and ice water; even impatiens lay down their heads and weep…that’s when the Glory Bower trees quietly begin to bloom.

Hummingbird wings whir around her. Butterflies flitter on her pale green shoulders. Fat bumblebees stir slowly around her like plump fairy godmothers- coaxing the lacy summer ballgown onto Glory. Her ladies in waiting, the Crepe Myrtles, have on shocking pink and raspberry corsages. But Glory is a real Southern Belle, never breaks a sweat, not one bead of perspiration. Glory Bower trees put down deep roots- they are my sweet homebodies, staying close to the windows so I can chaperone and gaze as the Miracle of July unfolds.

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When every other flowery thing begins to close up shop for harvest, the Glory Bower is just getting started; dabbed with honeysuckle fragrance, she’s a subtle reminder of another July Miracle– one that got her start, early one sunny summer morning in July. Like the Glory Bower she seems to thrive on sunshine but her real secret is her deep roots close to home. A fifth generation southern belle of St. Clair County, she is named for her father and grandfather. She is a true miracle. Before her mother turned twenty the doctors said she would never bear a child. After seven long years of waiting…this child was born, a true blue miracle. Even the doctors said to her momma and daddy- ‘Take her home and enjoy her, you’ll never have another one.’ She was so tiny, her long name didn’t seem to fit so she was nicknamed for the southern sunshine she was born under. Her momma sang ‘Swing Low, Sweet Chariot’ as she rocked her miracle on the porch swing. Her daddy played his guitar and sang his baby girl to sleep to-‘You are My Sunshine’. The pediatrician noted the baby hardly had a hair on her head but made up for it by having the longest eyelashes he had ever seen; a neighbor said- ‘It’s a sign of good breeding when a baby is bald headed’…her momma just smiled and made batiste bonnets with ruffles and lace.

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She could talk before she could walk at ten months! She was a born teacher-lining up dolls and stuffed toys, she would ‘teach school’ when she was barely three years old. Her teachers  remarked that her ‘sunny name’ suited her just right! Always an honor student, with a beautiful voice that was rivaled only by her skill on the clarinet, she was voted, ‘Friendliest’ in high school, and graduated with full honors from college, before earning her masters degree in education. She grew up so fast her parents felt as if she blinked her long eyelashes and was all grown up! She has taught hundreds of school children how to read and to love school like she always did. She is a fine Southern lady and a wonderful teacher! Camellia’s Cottage can’t imagine life around here without children in it- we’re glad she’s one of them.

If you ever find yourself wondering if God still performs miracles just look to the Glory Bower tree, which miraculously blooms so cool and sweet in the heat of a July summer and remember our July miracle.  Today’s her birthday, join us in wishing her a day filled with sunshine, the faint fragrance of honeysuckle and perhaps a gentle rain…

Love y’all, Camellia

p.s. Those doctors don’t always know everything… 21 months after this miracle? Another miracle baby girl was born on a sweet day in May! Believe in miracles, watch for them…they are all around you! Can I get a Glory Hallelujah?

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Tomato Sandwiches…

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Summer tomatoes are a delicacy. The closer you live to a tomato vine the better your life will be. There is nothing like the smell of a warm tomato on the vine, nothing. Here at Camellia’s Cottage-we not only hire a pet sitter, we hire someone to water our tomatoes if we’re gone on vacation!  We’ve even been known to bribe folks with tomatoes…‘If you’ll come by and pick up the mail, you can pick some tomatoes.’ Works every time.  We wait on the tomatoes , fret over them- we check on them, often. When we talk tomatoes- we say morbid things like –

  • ‘I think my tomatoes have blossom end rot’
  • ‘Well, the hornworms are going to get to the tomatoes.’
  • ‘I think a possum uprooted the tomato plants.’
  • ‘The birds are going to get all of the tomatoes if you don’t get them first.’
  • ‘This is the last year I’m going to plant tomatoes, so you better enjoy them.’
  • ‘These tomatoes aren’t fit to eat, they’re mealy, because we’ve had too much rain.’

Even against the odds we continue to plant more than we can eat. We’ve come to believe that the smaller the tomato the bigger the taste; but the real reason is this- you can get a ripe tomato sooner! Some people want a one tomato slice sandwich- from a tomato so big, just one slice covers the whole piece of bread! Southern cooking depends on tomatoes. Fried green tomatoes originated in the south, don’t argue with me about this. We know tomatoes, especially in the very county where I live. In the upper part of St. Clair County- the most famous and highly prized tomatoes are grown, the conditions are said to be perfect right at the tail end of the Appalachian Mountains- in that one boat shaped plateau– Chandler Mountain! People take vacation time, even plan whole expeditions to go to tomato farms, owned by men like Dwight Rogers or the Smith Family and pick Chandler Mountain tomatoes!

There are at least three things folks don’t understand about southern cooking:

  • Why we love to eat Grits
  • Why we drink Sweet Tea
  • The fascination with Tomato Sandwiches

Grits might have to wait for another time- just know that adding sugar to grits is disgusting to a Southerner. Sweet Tea we’ve already covered. Tomato sandwiches are a delicacy which can be eaten for a short span of time, only when summer tomatoes are available; otherwise you have to add things to a tomato sandwich- like bacon and lettuce or a hamburger pattie! You have six to ten weeks to consume tomato sandwiches, depending on where you live in the south- maybe less. Now, here is the recipe for one perfect tomato sandwich:

  • 2 slices of white bread– this is not the time to break out the whole wheat.
  • Good mayonnaise, smeared on both sides of the bread- this is to create a barrier between the bread and the juicy tomatoes.
  • 1 summer tomato– sliced as thick as you dare.
  • Fresh cracked black pepper
  • And a generous sprinkle of good salt, tomatoes take to salt.

That’s it. There are only a few things that you can add to a tomato sandwich. Vidalia Onions sliced as thin as tissue paper and a bit of lemon zest added to the mayonnaise if you didn’t think to look for lemon juice in the ingredient label on the jar! Add anything else and you no longer have a tomato sandwich. On the side, I like to nibble a hot skinny green pepper and munch on Golden Flake Potato Chips made right here in Alabama, with my Tomato Sandwich. Pure, simple- nothing better.

I don’t expect you to understand this if you don’t have a southern palate. For me, there is a romance to a summer tomato sandwich. Imagine it- a sultry summer morning, you sashay barefoot out to check on the tomatoes, the dew is still thick on the grass. You smell the scent of the tomato vines, you see the green, the newly ripening and the perfect red fruit. Tomato red, like polished toenails. Hanging there, tempting you to reach out and pick. Oh lord, my mouth is watering now… your hand reaches out to pick the tomatoes, the prickly vine warns you to think before you pick– is it ready or not? is there any White Wonder Bread? some good mayonnaise? Golden Flake potato chips? You pick a few perfect vine ripe tomatoes, maybe a green one or two to fry…the tiny green ones would be good pickled. Bend down to the pepper plants and pick several slender.. long…green hot peppers …perfect.   As the sun goes down, you might hear this-

 ‘Honey, do you want me to grill some steaks?’

No darlin’- it’s so hot, I think I’ll just fix us a tomato sandwich.’

‘Sounds good to me.’

I hope wherever you are, the summer tomatoes are red, ripe and delicious- maybe you’ll find it in your heart to try a Summer Tomato Sandwich!  And remember, Southern Recipes are always part passion, part potion and part inherited wisdom.

Love y’all, Camellia

*Image of Dwight Rogers by Mike Callahan from Discover – the Essence of St. Clair – a wonderful local Alabama magazine! The editor is our dear friend Carol Pappas. Click on the link  and you can read more about Chandler Mountain tomatoes! and visit their website- http://www.discoverstclair.com