Damn the Torpedos — Fort Morgan Ahead

"Damn the torpedoes! Full speed ahead!" That's usually what I'm thinking by the time I get everything packed and point the car south to one of my favorited destinations on the Alabama coast -- Fort Morgan. A beach community just west of Gulf Shores on Mobile Point, Fort Morgan is a little slower paced, more … Continue reading Damn the Torpedos — Fort Morgan Ahead

Pickled Figs

Pickles. Dill. Sweet. Bread and Butter. Refrigerator. Southerners love them all. From the fanciest market to the most humble filling station, you have to try hard not to find some locally-made delicacy. More often than not, the tart treats will be prominently displayed right by the cash register, not merely assigned to a shelf with … Continue reading Pickled Figs

The Arbor

I have an arbor. I flat love it. Husband hates it - bugs, mess, blah blah blah. I don't care. I have an arbor because Granny had an arbor. I flat loved it. It was covered with muscadine vines growing down to the ground and high up into the trees. I would drag whatever lawn … Continue reading The Arbor

My kingdom for a dead snake

Dawg Days are upon us. Go on...draw that syllable out just like the heat and humidity that threatens to stretch clear to Halloween. It's too hot to talk fast. Too hot to think fast. Too hot to do much besides indolently stand in the yard dribbling precious cool water on flowers as parched as you … Continue reading My kingdom for a dead snake

Essence of lantana

My parents drank film noir cocktails - martinis (always gin, never vodka), sazeracs, B&B, scotch. When we were over the Bay, there would be the occasional cold beer. Wine, however, only appeared on holidays, and champagne was reserved for wedding receptions, and then, only those not held in the church hall. When I moved to … Continue reading Essence of lantana

Fish are jumpin’…

Ahhh...Summertime. My summers were spent at the home of my maternal grandparents, Granny and Baw to me, under the watchful eye of Sarah, their housekeeper and my companion. Most of the morning, I would wander around their expansive yard, playing house under the scuppernong arbors, catching tadpoles in the goldfish pond, or picking blackberries with … Continue reading Fish are jumpin’…