Mississippi

State Capitol:  Jackson

Nickname:  The Magnolia State

State Bird:  Mockingbird   (Again?  What is the deal here?  Why so many mockingbirds?)

State Flower:  Magnolia

The loopy Mississippi River forms the western border of The Magnolia State and these loops form oxbow lakes.  I first encountered this river in August of 1983 when we moved to Texas.  Since my husband knew I had never seen the South, we moved to Texas by travelling through Atlanta and then across the southern states into East Texas.  Because I had fallen in love with James on the Hudson River and had thoroughly enjoyed the river from New York City up to West Point Academy, I had even more glorious visions of a blue pristine Mississippi with showboats and paddlewheels and southern belles.

What I saw was a muddy, lazy hot river.  I was disappointed.  It was not until years later when I read about the 770 Civil War battles fought on Mississippi land, the burning of Jackson three times, and 25,000 soldiers from this state who died that I really had an appreciation for this region.  Mississippi was ruled by King Cotton – the fluffy white fiber – until the Great Depression of the 1930s.  Today it remains as an agricultural state, leading the nation in farm raised catfish, chicken, cotton, rice, sorghum, and rice.  The state’s per capita income remains among the lowest in the nation. 

One of the beauties of this southern land is the magnolia tree that comes in different types.  When we built our home I wanted a Little Gem Magnolia tree that I could see from my kitchen bay windows.   A small 10 gallon Little Gem costs $100 so I abandoned that idea.  James surprised me by bringing home an almost dead one from Home Depot that was severely discounted due to the health of the tree.  I was doubtful that it would make it, but it has grown as tall as the kitchen bay windows and in the cool spring and fall produces lovely huge white blossoms and a fragrance that is delightful.  You can see it through the window just to the right of Emily’s nearly finished dollhouse.

Why Barq’s root beer?  Why because it is made in Mississippi!  As far as the root beers marketed here in Texas, I find this one to be the only one that is true to root beer.  So for our MS dinner we had a small glass of root beer.  For those in our family who are not root beer drinkers we poured Yankee Coke.  Or you might know it by the name Pepsi.

When we moved to Texas 26 years ago, we stayed over in Jackson, MS and then had breakfast at a small cafe the next morning.  I will never forget the waitress.  She just could not understand my order.  I wanted my eggs once over light.  She had never heard of those.  But she insisted on adding to my eggs some grits which she said in such a southern drawl that I had no idea of what she was talking about.  She did bring a plate of eggs with gravel grits on it and I thought it might be a joke.  Maybe they had run out of food. 

Grits is the official food of Mississippi.  Seventy five percent of the grits sold in the US is below the Mason Dixon line (another reason why I think Maryland is southern)  and the ”Grits Belt” is considered to be from Texas up to Virginia.   Southerners put butter in their grits.  Northerners tend to add sugar.  I have found this also to be true of cornbread.  Yankee cornbread is sweeter than what I am served in the South.

James made cheese grits that were absolutely delicious, although he did not like them.  Matthew and I liked it better than anything on the table.  These also had onion in them and were topped with cornflakes for more crunch.  So I have found that I like cheese driveway gravel, sand, bird gravel grits.  Grits are not a particularly healthy food.  Technically they are hominy.  White grits have the outer kernel removed and we have read that this is achieved by using lye. (We may have missed further information there.)  Removing the kernel also takes away most of the nutrient content. 

I was surprised to read that a southerner will eat grits with anything – even shrimp.  James raised his eyebrows on that one.  I could not talk him into making shrimp grits.  So here is a snapshot of the cheese ones.

What is this?  Well, it is a transgression.  All wrapped up and ready to go into the oven.  This was a hit and is now part of our recipe file.  It is called Mississippi Sin.

A loaf of French bread is hollowed out and filled with ham, chives, cheese, sour cream, cheddar cheese, worcestershire sauce, and green chilis.  It is then wrapped in foil and baked for an hour.  When serving, the leftover French bread scoops out the dip.  Or you could do chips or even fresh red peppers, cucumbers, celery, or whatever.

The main dish.  PeePaw’s Mississippi Coke Chicken.   Yes, it had Coke in it.  Being a Yankee, I have to confess that I put in Yankee Coke.   I don’t know why Southerners reach for the red can with the bitter stuff in it when the blue can has the real stuff in it.    If I make this again, I may try some Pennsylvania Dutch root beer in it.

I abandoned the typical Mississippi Mud Cake and bought a package of Ding Dongs.  Why?  Because my children never had a Ding Dong before.  I doubt we’ll have them again, but at least they will know what they are when other folks talk about them.  They remind us a little of Twinkies.  We wonder if either of these products are real food.  If you google Twinkies and styrofoam, you will see the connection between the two products.

To this James added his homemade ice cream that was made with aguave nectar and raw eggs straight from the farm.  It is a delicious recipe.  Now, if we can just remember next time to add the ice cream to the root beer and float it a little.  That is sheer pleasure.

This morning our little Pixie was laid to rest in our bird cemetery here on the Texas prairie.  We had her put to sleep after Dr. Hickman showed us the cancerous tumor that was giving her difficulty.  It was a dear sight to behold Dr. Hickman’s huge hands enclosed around our little puddlekeet.  It was even more dear when he brought her back to us with her wings tucked perfectly at her side.  She was so beautiful.  But she sang no more.

Luke 22:6  Are not five sparrows sold for two farthings, and not one of them is forgotten before God?

I’m not one of those Christians who have the question of sin and suffering and death all wrapped up neat in a perfect and sensible theological package so that I can withstand the trials and pain in life with a breeze.   I’m not the kind of person who takes rejection and loneliness and casts it aside easily.  There is not a day that goes by that I don’t contemplate war and abortion.  And I certainly am not one who walks without the acute awareness that the masses around me don’t know Christ and are headed for a dreadful eternity.  These lost people include family members and my friend’s husband.   I’m not the kind of person who has a callous, hard skin when it comes to anything.   Recently in one of my husband’s sermons he asked the listener if Jesus was in the room and you could ask any question, what would it be?  I knew what mine would be.  Just where did sin that causes all these terrible things come from, like how could this be part of The Plan you purposed?  Wasn’t there a better way?  If I was given question #2 it would be : And why would You choose me and not another?  Or why not everyone?

Way back when I was in college taking all my theology and doctrine classes, these questions were debated by some of the best doctors of theology right before my eyes and ears.  And it came back to the same statement.  We just don’t know and God has meant it that way.  (Deut. 29:29)

I am thankful for the years of chirping joy we had with Pixie.  She was such a character and easily had vocabulary of at least 100 words.  She knew Karen by sight and would call out her name.   She scolded us for things we should have been scolded for.  If we were talking too much she would say, “You talk too much!”  If she wanted attention, she would say, “What do you think you are doing?”  If she was very happy she would loudly call, “You little imp!  Pretty bird!”   And I’m thankful that I called her Miss America for a few short days.

Good by, Pixie.

Yes, it has been a while since I have posted.  Things have been so busy here that I can not keep up!

Last week we thoroughly cleaned out the garage, the most cleaned out it has been since we moved here 17 years ago.  Then we cleaned out the shed and repacked it.  Last, our storage unit came home from its location near Sonic to the garage.  So far the boxes have not complained that they miss the smell of hamburgers, but I think they miss seeing all that root beer on crushed ice.  Or at least I do.

I still have things all over my porch to give away.    Anyone who needs a table with chairs, a file cabinet,  high chair/ potty chair / baby bath / baby backpack, well just come get it this weekend.

This took several days to accomplish and in the middle of it all, my dear and most funny husband came into the kitchen and plunked a dirty thing-a-ma-bob on the kitchen counter.  He grinned and said with an intimate and yet audible voice, “I am throwing this away.  I thought I’d notify you.”

Everyone roared.  Cameras flashed.  And at last, it went in the garbage can.  Sadly enough, it has never docked a space shuttle but I think it was supposed to.  (See my attic post.)   I guess we are not part of the space program.   You see there on the counter the flowers that James brought me earlier in the week.  I was having a particularly bad day and he showed up with these along with raspberry-filled dark chocolate.  What a man.

This week has met with a different set of tasks.  There has been much to do in schooling regular academics, teaching the younger set of girls to sew and a few of them have been under the weather.  I can’t ever remember any of us having a cold in August.   The week was also punctuated with many tears.  We dug a grave in the backyard for Kathy’s English Budgie who had a heart attack.  We loved this little bird, and especially Kathy did.  The English budgie is quite large and has extra feathers on the head that makes it look rather distinguished.  Karen’s blog has many pictures of Mr. Darcy.  He had an adorable personality. 

On the heels of the funeral we discovered that Pixie, our four year old American parakeet, was near death’s door, so much so that we could not stand to see her suffer so and I was calling avian vets to see if we could have her put to sleep.  Avian vets are rare and for some reason all of them take Thursday off.  Shooing everyone out of the upstairs so I could think,  I held the little bird in a tiny box in my lap and prayed for insight.  I remembered a naturopathic doctor once saying that while the body is still warm and alive to keep trying.  So try I did.  I fed her lettuce every 10 minutes.  We put mineral oil down her with an eye dropper.  Bathed her several times.  She was too weak to protest anything.  Then we put her on a heating pad.  Little by little, life returned.  This was yesterday morning.  By this afternoon she is still weak, but insists on sitting on a perch.

This is the little bird that three years ago survived our cat puncturing her chest, breaking her wing, and damaging her feet.  Kathy nursed her hourly over many days.  She was a trooper back then and she is a trooper today.  She has pulled out all of her feathers on her legs and underside that only the top half of her is feathered.  Now that I have had a good look at her, she plucked in frustration of being sick and then she did not eat for days.  Because she has no feathers, I can see her skeletal outline clearly.  Now the job is to keep her gaining weight.  I am hopeful that she will make it.  She has not chirped and chattered yet.  I am waiting for her to talk to me.

Sometimes things are funnier than funny.  I had a friend email me and ask if this budgie was doing OK.  Now, this budgie is permanently damaged and has looked crippled for years with a broken wing that hangs, feet that won’t hold her up, and rarely a long tail feather grows.  She is the worst specimen of an American Budgie.  In her present condition she is just even worse with no feathers and protuding bones.  The feathers that remain are smashed.  But it was the funniest thing.  My friend asked, “I hope Miss America is doing better today.” 

Miss America?  Yep.  Miss America.  Just sitting all pretty in her cage recovering.  I was going to start calling her Rez (resurrected twice) but I think Miss America will do just fine.  Now when I walk by her cage, I burst into song.  “Here she comes!  Miss America!” 

The first time she chirps back, I’ll know all will be fine.  Wonder what she’ll say.

Arkansas – celebrated with mountain green and creamy beige tablecloths to create a natural color scheme and a fruitful vine centerpiece.  Also celebrated with the honor of the presence of the two Mr. Blanchards.  I enjoyed feeding the younger Mr. Blanchard in the high chair.  (Almost completed dollhouses in the background.)

Now, if you are listening to the music you will either say to yourself “That’s Arkansas Traveler” or you will start singing, “I’m bringing home a baby bumblebee, won’t my mama be so proud of me?”  Either way, you can hum along and tap your feet.

State Motto: The Natural State

Capital:  Little Rock

State Bird:  Mockingbird (this intrigues me – why are so many states choosing a bird with an attitude?)

State Flower:  Apple Blossom

Diverse landscapes and outdoor activities earn Arkansas its nickname.  On its north and west rise the rugged Ouachita Mountains and the Ozark Plateau.  Between them flows the Arkansas River, south and east across the state to the Gulf Coastal Plain.  There it meets the Mississippi River, with its many oxbow lakes along the eastern border. 

French explorers scouted the natural resourses of this area in the 1670s.  The French learned of a native group named for the south wind.  Oo-ka-na-sa was penned by the French into “Arkansas.”  (ARK-an-saw)  Arkansas was part of the Louisiana Purchase in 1803.  Arkansas joined the Confederacy and was not readmitted into the Union until African Americans were given the right to vote in 1868.   Overall, Arkansas has been one of the more poor states, but it is rich in natural resources and beauty.  The soggy Mississippi River lowlands provide rice fields which are flooded to farm fish.  Catfish, cotton, chickens, and turkeys are abundant. Arkansas is the top US producer of bauxite and bromine.  Bauxite is where we get aluminum from, bromine is used in fire retardants.

Northern Arkansas is on my list of Top Ten Places to Live in the USA.   We have vacationed there twice – once in Jasper and once outside of Eureka Springs.  Our family enjoys the natural beauty of this area along with the culture of the Ozarks.  I’ve told James he can get a job there anytime. (Doing what?  Why, making Hillbilly music of course!  Oh yeh, I forgot.  We’re into classical music.)

We held Karen’s high school graduation in the magnificent glass Thorncrown Chapel in a forest in Eureka Springs and then had a wonderful lunch at War Eagle Mill.

Because Arkansa is so rich in natural resources and many good things to eat, it was a tough choice to come up with a menu.  I had thirty things to choose from.  If I had a deep fryer I would have done Ozark Fried Pies.  Instead, I started days ahead of “eating our way through” with making Arkansas Caviar.  You have to remember that the people of Arkansas are not financially rich.  So their Caviar is made from black eyed peas.  Now, we don’t eat black eyed peas here at our house.  No one has ever liked the taste of them.  I don’t like anything staring up at me from my dinner plate (pea eyes, fish eyes, any eyes).  Yet I was drawn to the Arkansas Caviar which fermented three days in the frig and was close to a sour Pennsylvania Dutch dressing.  It was delicious, particularly because it reminded me of Dutch Bean Salad.  Further research has revealed that Mississippi has a similar black eyed peas caviar that is more southwestern in flavorings.  Who needs fish eggs? 

Each October The Great American Spam Championship takes place at the Arkansas State Fair in Little Rock.  Although Spam was born in Hormel, Minnesota, the championships are here in the South.  We ate the first place winner from the 2006 competition:  Spam Bowl Dip.  The spam was ground with garlic and parmesan cheese, other flavorings were added.  The sauce over the top is cream cheese with red jalapeno jelly and we served the dip with buttery crackers. 

The main dish was Arkansas Chicken.  The pan was lined with corned beef.  The chicken, wrapped in bacon, was cooked in sour cream and cream cheese and a thick chicken sauce.  Since rice is grown in Arkansas we had that on the side but something a little different.  We have never had Minute Rice in our house so I bought a box.   My children were in awe that this rice was not brown.

Arkansas Chicken was such a hit that it is going into our permanent recipe file.  I think this is because of the corned beef.  It just adds a little zip to the chicken and bacon.

Baked in the sauce until brown.  No, I did not count the fat grams.  My calculator does not go that high.  I had extra sauce heated on the side and that disappeared quickly.

Last was Cliff House Company’s Comin’ Pie.  In 1986, Arkansas celebrated its statehood Sesquicentennial with the theme “Company’s Comin’.”   Cliff House, which overlooks the Grand Canyon of the Oarks in Jasper along the national Scenic 7 Byway (yes, we’ve been there), made the original pie for the occasion.  The meringue crust ready to go into a 30 minute bake.  (egg white, cream of tartar, a full cup of sugar, 18 crushed saltines, pecans, and vanilla)

Pie #1:  The whip cream topping – with strawberries folded in.

Pie #2:  The whip cream topping with crushed pineapple folded in.  There were leftovers of these pies in the frig but never saw them shortly after that.  Funny thing.  The pie pans have been washed and put away.  Glad I got a slice when I did.

We are off to a good start eating our way through The Grand Ol’ South.

My husband, whose ancestors were wealthy plantation owners in Virginia, has informed me that the South starts at Virginia.  The records from his great-great-great-grandparents were destroyed when the Richmond courthouse was destroyed in the Civil War but were carried on in oral tradition.   So the status of Maryland has been moved to Mid-Atlantic State.  Not that it matters too much.  We can still be “crabby” when we eat through it.   Yum.  Blue crab.

Just think, perhaps if the Civil War had not happened, I would be married to a wealthy Virginian who owns a large steel producing company and a very large plantation outside Norfolk.   But thanks to General Sherman’s march that burned the sixty mile wide path straight to Atlanta, the family tree ended up penniless.  I think that is called “Gone With the Wind.”  No hoop skirts for me.

Yes, next on the itinerary is to eat our way through the South.  The Grand Ol’ South.   From the sources I checked, there would be some debate here about whether or not Delaware and Maryland are southern.  Some of my books list them as being part of the Northeast, but my flashcards and cookbooks put them in the South along with a few historical resources.  Since I am from the Northeast, my experience tells me that Maryland is southern, but Delaware is not.  In Pennsylvania we were a little more forgiving if you were from these border states than if you were farther down in twang country.  I’ll never forget my 10th grade geometry teacher who was from Alabama and the only southern I had met in my childhood.  My classmates and I understood little that she said… but she sure was sugar sweet.  I never could tell, however, the difference between pan-pen-pin when she said them.  I really had to follow the context of what she was saying.   I was convinced that as a child they taught her to talk with marbles in her mouth.  I found out later while visiting England for a month that they thought the same thing of me.

The Mason-Dixon line has traditionally been used to separate the culture of the North and the South.  It places Maryland in the South and Delaware in the North.  Originally the line was surveyed because of multiple boundary disputes between the Penn and Calvert families representing Pennsylvania and Maryland.  The Missouri Compromise of 1820 created the political conditions which made the Mason-Dixon Line important to the history of slavery.  It was during this time that Congress first used the boundary to designate between free states and slave states. 

This complicates things because although Delaware was a slave state, it never considered secession.  Marshal law prevented Maryland from seceding.  There were divided loyalties in both states. 

The seven states declared their secession before Lincoln took office on March 4, 1861 were South Carolina, Mississippi, florida, Alabama, Georgia, Louisiaina, and Texas.  After the attack on Fort Sumter on April 12, 186, and Lincoln’s subsequent call for troops on April 15, four more states declared their secession:  Virginia, Arkansas, Tennessee, and North Carolina.

The border states of Kentucky and Missouri declared neutrality very early in the war.   Later on Kentucky split in its loyalty.  Missouri passed an ordinance of secession but it was confused when Federal troops took over the capital.  The Confederate flags had thirteen stars, reflecting claims of Kentucky and Missouri.  West Virginia was still forming and was in the Confederacy.  Both the North and the South used marshal law to keep counties from swaying to the opposite side.

From my point of view, Maryland belonged to Them and Delaware belonged to Us, and I derive this from cultural attitudes in my childhood.   And now that I have been in Texas for 26 years, I am totally confused because my Texan born children think we lost the Civil War, but I grew up thinking we won it.  Throughout our 22 years of home school historical study, I have come to conclude that no one won.  It is judgment on a nation when brothers fight against brothers.  The results are never good. 

So where do Maryland and Delaware land?  I think I am in a State of Confusion.  Since Delaware was greatly influenced by Quaker missionaries and originally part of the Philadelphia area, I will slide it into the Mid-Atlantic States category.  Maryland I will consider South because it is south of the Mason-Dixon line.  Missouri is considered part of the Midwest and we’ll eat through it sometime next year.

The bottom line: Arkansas, Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, Georgia, Florida, North and South Carolina, Kentucky and Tennessee, West and Regular Ol’ Virginia, and Maryland.  So off we go into Dixie, yes derived from the ”Dixon” in Mason-Dixon line.  I mention here that my children are familiar with Cowboy music of the Southwest, but now we’ll have to add some dinner music of a different flavor.  I wonder if I will survive the music and food.  We’ll see.

I wish I was in de land ob cotton,

Old times dar am not forgotten;

Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land.

In Dixie Land whar I was born in,

Early on one frosty mornin,

Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land.

Old Missus marry “Will-de-weaber,”

Willium was a gay deceaber;

Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land.

But when he put his arm around’er,

He smiled as fierce as a forty-pound’er,

Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land.

Dar’s buck-wheat cakes an ‘Ingen’ batter,

Makes you fat or a little fatter;

Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land.

Den hoe it down an scratch your grabble,

To Dixie land I’m bound to trabble.

Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land.

We will soon eat our way through another state.  I have this fermenting in the frig.  Can you guess what it is?  I took a taste today and just about fainted because I like it.  Mrs. Klause will be quite proud of me.

My mother-in-love sent me something interesting about New Mexico.  The tiny town of Hatch is the Chili Capital of the world.   If you will google Hatch, NM and go to www.hatchchilifest.com, there is a four minute video on the home page.  We watched it and had a good laugh – especially the ending.  If you have a few moments you might enjoy it too.  I did not know that chilis are a fruit.  And I did not know that chilis are an addiction. 

James’ mom says that the chilis stuffed with cheese and then batter fried are out of this world.  I hope to taste them sometime.

New Mexico

Capital:  Santa Fe

Nickname:  Land of Enchantment

Population:  2 million (only 15 people per square mile)

State Bird:  Roadrunner

State Flower:  Yucca

When the Spanish first explored New Mexico in the 1500s, they found Zuni, Hopi, and Tewa peoples living in clusters of apartment-like structures called pueblos.  The Santa Fe Trail brought many newcomers to the area and they mined silver and gold, raised cattle and sheep, and irrigated crops in river valleys.   A quiet group came in the 1940s to isolated Los Alamos to build a top-secret weapon.  Their success was marked by the explosion of the first atomic bomb in the New Mexico desert in July 1945.  Today New Mexico is still home to many specialists in military, nuclear, and space program research.  More than 42 percent of its population claims Hispanic heritage, the highest level in the nation, and there are more than a dozen American Indian groups. Poverty is a problem, especially among natives and the population increase has created water-use issues that New Mexico’s people must solve if their state is to remain the Land of Enchantment.  Perhaps Carlsbad Caverns would be considered the most enchanting place of all.

We have driven across New Mexico in the southern portion of the state and also across Interstate 40 that goes through Albuquerque.  For a simple representative supper we had tacos.  Some don’t like tacos, so leftover pancakes were on the side.

So with this we leave the four southwestern states and head for another region to eat our way through.    I’m a bit behind in planning so I have to do some more research before we eat our way through another state.