Delta blues and cornbread sticks…

Perhaps it’s significant that I was born in the Delta of Mississippi, where the blues can be heard from the cotton fields to the Mississippi River. Music has always been such a part of my heart and soul. Granted, I’m thoughtful enough not to sing within anyone’s earshot, but when I’m alone, I can belt out a tune with the best of them and have more rhythm than one person should be entitled to. Along with a history of producing its share of the best blues artists in the world, the Delta has some of the richest, most fertile soil in the entire world; and – like the rest of the South – some of the most gracious people.

I was born the youngest of four daughters, to the most gentle, kind parents in the world. It was a poor time in the South as well as much of the rest of the country, but not long after my birth, my parents bought a small farm in the little nearby Delta town of Rena Lara. There, they had a variety of farm animals, a large vegetable garden and a cash crop of cotton. I truly wish I could actually remember that time, but I’ve heard the stories for so many years that, in my mind’s eye, I can picture it.
Evidently, the toddler in the photo loved the farm and was fearless. My sisters tell me that I would march into the barn insisting that the chickens “shoo”! I’d wander across the little country cove lane to a neighbor’s farm. Mrs. Hoke was famous for her cornbread sticks and I would ask for TWO of them (no wonder I had such chipmunk cheeks). As the stories go, I gave everyone a scare the day I wandered much too far from home…and they found me up to my ankles in the mud at a nearby farm. I had to laughingly ask them: wasn’t anyone watching me?! I believe, after that, my sisters were assigned the task of pulling me on top of the cotton sack as they were picking cotton! That’s probably where my freckles began…
Before I was three years of age, they had sold the farm and moved to Memphis. Somehow, there’s still a farmgirl deep inside of me…one who longs to have a big red barn, lots of farm animals and a yellow lab who never lets me out of her sight.

My Southern Heart…Memories

We each have them living deep within the recesses of our hearts and minds ~ memories that have been made one moment…one day…one event at the time. I have 62 years worth. Well, okay, maybe I can’t remember THAT far back. Just like most of you, some of the memories I think I have are maybe just stories that I’ve heard so often that I just think I can remember them.

Memories are precious things. They allow people, places and events that have happened in our lives to go on living in our hearts and minds. You already know that I’m a Southern girl. Now, you know that I’m maybe just a wee bit sentimental. Family is very important to me…just as, most likely, it is to you. Our families have helped to shape us into the individuals we are today…given us our sense of deep worth, our values as well as our brown eyes and freckles. I’ll try not to bore you in the coming days and months or however long it takes me to sort out the stories of my life…as well as share a lot of creations with you.

I confess I’m happiest when: I’m outdoors and the sun is shining (although I love a good, slow rain), everyone is well and happy, I can visit or at least see/talk with my children and grandchildren by phone, as well as the rest of my family and friends who are far away from me, and when I’m in the midst of creating SOMETHING!

I will look forward to sharing those memories and stories with you, as well as the creations… whether it’s a sewing project, story, quilt, lame attempt at knitting, or a simple culinary creation.

Please, take a moment to leave a comment and let me know you’ve tuned in…I’d love to hear from you!

Blessings to you,