We planned on 50

including this one.

By my head count, there were 47 1/2. (Olive eats a lot but she just doesn't put it down the way the guys do.) 

I made a couple of things this morning.

Brandied fruit

Beer potato salad

By about 3pm were ready.

Daughter C had made menus.

We weren't quite sure about the weather, so the guys moved the grills up to the porch.

Meanwhile, we put on the finishing touches.

And iced down the beverages.

People started showing up.

And then my camera ran out of battery.

BUT! Everybody & his brother were taking photos. So if you just go look on the WorldWideWeb, I'm sure you will find a photo of yourself (haha) at the Farm.

Unless, of course, you were not here.

An Eventful Day

Today Mr. Big Food and I traveled to Oxfordtown and TSUN.* Miss M and Mike joined us. 

There was an EVENT on campus.

We were not there for the EVENT, and that's what I told the security guard who was guarding Visitor Parking Street, but he let us park in EVENT PARKING anyway. 

As per usual when we visit TSUN, we walked across the Grove headed for the Union and a cup of bitter coffee. As we were walking, I mentioned to Miss M that 50 years ago James Meredith became a student at Ole Miss. We chatted about subsequent EVENTS.

An unpleasant turn of EVENTS.

Signs of the time

I still can't get over that remark from one of our employees. She characterized us-- the citizens of the Hospitality State-- as "disgusting and shameful." She's entitled (isn't everyone) to her opinion, but I think it's ill-mannered to talk this way about your employers.

I was disappointed that there were so many weeds (not pictured) in the flower beds at TSUN.

As I mentioned, we traveled today to That School Up North (TSUN), located in Oxford, Mississippi (not to be confused with the real Oxford). I didn't purposefully go looking for evidence to the contrary-- that we are not disgusting & shameful-- but after reviewing the photos I took, that's what I found. We are neither disgusting nor shameful. (I think there are some grammatical issues in what she said, but it was a Twitter post.)

Granted, TSUN & Oxford are... how to say this?... different from the rest of Mississippi so we shouldn't be too quick to generalize, but still, that's what I found. 

B&N serves Starbuck coffee. I don't care for Starbucks coffee. But it's hardly disgusting. I will say the student body at TSUN used to dress better than they do these days. I guess it's a sign of the times that they look remarkably like State students.

Walk this way.

Champion

 Zoom in. It says, "[T]he heartwood is resistant to deterioration." 

There should be no shame in growing old. That's a normative claim. 

There's a bench beneath the tree.

Loyal Rebel.

I could be wrong about this, but I don't think it's shameful to be loyal to rebellious cause, is it? 

Especially when you have a Creed.

Class of 2005

Disgusting and shameful-- to Believe in Respect, Fairness, Civility, Integrity, Honesty, Freedom, Stewardship.

I make fun of TSUN a lot. But it's a good school.

Lyceum below.

Willie

via North Mississippi Commentor...

Willie Nelson and family, April 9th in Oxford at the Lyric Theater

Details on ticket sales at the link.

Dawg tired

Just back from Oxford Town and That School Up North (TSUN). Fun as always except for the New Jersey drivers.

Before we left for the Farm, we had a drink upstairs at City Grocery with the TSUN gang. Which reminds me... .

My new issue of Garden & Gun came at some point in my life after Missy came into my Big Life, four weeks ago today! Both Mr. Big Food and I were amused to see that City Grocery's bar was named the #1 "Writers' Retreat" in the 50 Best Southern Bars feature article. I have no physical or mental desire to fetch my hard copy of the magazine right now, so I'll quote the on-line version of what G&G has to say about City Grocery:

City Grocery Bar in Oxford, Mississippi
Faulkner’s gone, but Oxford writers still need whiskey. Enter City Grocery Bar, a magnet for both visiting literati and a prodigious crop of local talent. At this dark second-story spot, bartenders pour grown-up drinks, says chef-owner John Currence. “And those soothe the demons in a writer’s soul.” citygroceryonline.com

Faulkner's gone but you wouldn't know it if you'd ever spent time in Oxford, Mississippi. He lingers everywhere. Even I have a stupid pamphlet in the guest room-- right under  the NRA Basic Pistol Shooting booklet-- about Faulkner and that place he lived. Some people are interested in this sort of crappy old stuff. I try to be a good hostess.

We don't eat dinner at City Grocery as frequently as do our TSUN friends, but Mr. Big Food has been eating at City Grocery for as long as two of them have, 

Everything's fine!

Dogs are fine. Seeds are fine.

We have company. Company's fine!

I'll be back.

P.s. Goin' to Oxford, Mississippi to visit That School Up North tomorrow. Should be fine.

The Town Up North That Keeps On Giving

TTUNTKOG (topics I can post about) is where TSUN (Ole Miss) is located.

North Mississippi Commentor passes along news that the Oxford (Mississippi) Film Festival lineup has been announced. 

It's not really my sort of thing, however, these short documentaries sound interesting:

Back in Oxford (Mississippi), Dir. Jordan Berger; A student documentary exploring the underground rap culture in Oxford, MS. An interesting view of this small town, told through a lens many people are not familiar with. WORLD PREMIERE

The Beacon (Mississippi), Dir. Camilla Ann Aikin; The Beacon is the story of a 52 year old diner, an Oxford, Mississippi institution. It is a place full of colorful characters and stories, fiercely loyal customers and employees, and deep ties to the South’s complicated past. WORLD PREMIERE.

Proud Larry’s In Between the Scenes (Mississippi), Dir. Zachary Scott Thompson. Proud Larry’s is a great window into the Oxford Scene’s past and in its future.  This short film highlights past memories of Oxford music scene veterans as well as those who are shaping the scene today. The music featured is provided by Oxford’s own Balance. WORLD PREMIERE.

Sonny (UK), Dir. Sophie Smith, The historic Mississippi River town of Helena in the Arkansas Delta, has been the home of the longest running blues radio show in the world. The King Biscuit Time blues show, which began in 1941 has featured ‘Sunshine’ Sonny Payne as the DJ since 1951… WORLD PREMIERE.

To Live and Die in Avoyelles Parish (Mississippi), Dir. Joe York. The latest documentary from the Southern Foodways Alliance details a different hog-roasting celebration: the Cochon de Lait Festival. The annual Mother’s Day tradition sees some 30-odd hogs hoisted up on metal racks that resemble giant coat hangers and cooked for several hours near a roaring blaze. The results, named for the suckling pigs that often are used in the recipe, are tender white flesh encased in the crispy skin known as “cracklin.’”

 The Oxford Film Festival is February 9-12, 2012.

Garden & Gun

Garden & Gun is a very pretty glossy magazine which doesn't devote nearly enough pages to gardens or guns but does present the Rural South positively. It's better than Southern Living, which was once good and is now just... .

I love this magazine. My wonderful mother-in-law saw an issue at her hairdressers in Georgetown and bought me a subscription. My mother in Greensboro collects back issues and saves them for me. They know me well. I love this magazine.

The November-December issue features a fellow, Mike Stewart, who raises and trains huntin' dogs-- he's now branched out into training dogs who can detect low blood sugar in diabetics.

“I’m a retired cop,” Stewart says, as he walks me toward a line of kennels on the property. “Seven years with the Oxford, Mississippi, police department, then eighteen as chief of police at Ole Miss. But I’ve been piddling around training dogs as long as I can remember. I’ve always loved dogs—and training them. I trained my first Lab, Pepper, in 1972. Sold her in 1973. Great dog.”

Good Lord! Those folks up in Oxford are awful smart, aren't they? "Piddling" around with raising dogs that he sells for $10,000 or more.

He sounds like a regular guy, though. Read the whole thing. 

~~

Mr. Big Food noted the other day that no one from around here refers to TSUN as "The University of Mississippi." No one. It's Ole Miss, thank you very much.

Oxford Updates (label: "silly stuff")

Courtesy of North Mississippi Commentor

The food desert that is Oxford has a new restaurant on The Square.

And this, that I'll just copy, paste and link:

This just in.

The Ole Miss Alumni Association
is exploring the idea…

…of establishing an “on campus” memorial to honor proud alumni and friends. Throughout our history, Ole Miss has touched many individuals and created a proud and vibrant extended community. And while our school has helped shape the lives of those in pursuit of knowledge, it’s the people themselves who have made Ole Miss truly special.

Inspired by the devotion of our alumni and friends, we are considering the establishment of a small, on-campus memorial garden that would feature a columbarium containing the cremated remains of interested individuals. This permanent memorial would honor those who hold our school so dear to their hearts and give them a special place on our campus. We envision a peaceful garden landscape, complete with strolling walkways and reflection benches. Space in the columbarium would be available for purchase in advance of an individual’s passing. [My emphasis]

Read the whole thing. The comments are fun.

Chain-sawing: UPDATED with more photos

Of all of the pictures I took of them, I liked this posed photo the best.

Mr. Big Food (L); Mr. Kant (R)

The only missing element was Rocky.

UPDATE: A few more photos below the fold 

Ism. Schmism.

Today we traveled to That School Up North to attend a public lecture on implicit racism.

As always, we got a kick out of being in Oxford-- that's Oxford, Mississippi-- which I've poked good natured fun at several times: Oxford the food desert; Oxford of Oxford Town, Oxford Town; and Oxford that turns a Jersey boy into a good ol' boy. I could not live in Oxford even if I were paid. But I do enjoy visiting. It's a country mouse / city mouse thing. Not that Oxford is a cosmopolitan city, it just thinks it is. Which is why it's fun to visit. If you have the chance, go out of your way to visit to Oxford. Don't miss Square Books.

Implicit ___ism is the idea that despite our rationally motivated desire to be not ___ists, we are by nature ___ists.  We are sexists, ageists, racists, ... what have you. Both Mr. Big Food and I are skeptical about the "science" underlying this claim. I think there are some deep methodological confusions in the design of the experiments, and the analyses of the resulting data. But... .

The talk was in a large lecture hall in Barnard Observatory. It was packed. There were all manner of folks given to being the subjects of ___isms, including an entire front row of children not of my race ranging in age from about five to 15 or so, and a second row holding two folks older than I, and not of my race, in traditional ___ism clothing.

If any implicit ___ism was going to manifest in me it was ageism. What we had here was a real life scenario of the flawed (? I haven't looked at primary papers) experiments the speaker was referencing. What we had here was a bunch of kids in the front row of a packed lecture hall. Never have I seen such a thing. And my implicit ageism kicked in. But what I explicitly saw was a bunch of self-controlled, well-behaved, age-appropriately engaged kids. It was a sight to behold! 

I watched them as they left the lecture. I finally saw them get into a van with "Fannie Lou Hammer Freedom School Etta, MS" printed on its side.

Later, I asked Bill about them. I learned that the couple began bringing their children to this series of public lectures years ago. The children were expected to sit quietly and listen. As they got older, they were expected to engage the subject. He said the older ones were expected to set an example for the younger ones. He said the patriarch and matriarch valued learning and education. The kids I saw today were their grandkids. Their parents had gotten Ph.D.s

Ism. Schism. I am sick and tired of focusing on ___isms. Let's talk about expectations.

Fresh greens in the desert

From North Mississippi Commentor:

Fresh Greens on the market
The greens are really at their Fall peak right now, and between the various local farmers I found a lot this morning:

From Woodson Ridge Farms, I got carrot, radish, beet, and turnip tops, along with arugula.  I missed their lettuce.

From the Bost Farms at MidTown shopping center (sadly, the last market of the Fall), I got mustard greens and spinach.

From Flora Farms at Midtown, I got Swiss chard.

From Hollowell, who has taken to parking a pick-up truck just north of the three-way intersection, I got collards and kale.

I’ve got bunching onions in the yard and will buy some cabbage, lettuce, Italian parsley, along with some brisket from the Brown Family Farm, garlic from Flora (how many dishes have thirteen local ingredients?), and sausage Joyce brought back from West Louisiana to make this, something I ordinarily make in the Spring.

 I left a comment. Apparently, he's not aware of the fact that he lives in a food desert.

From the Food Desert Locator brought to you by the United States Department of Agriculture

Your Federal Government hard at work making sure you know that Oxford, Mississippi and University, Mississippi have "low-income neighborhoods with high concentrations of people who are far from a grocery store."

Food desert:

The HFFI working group defines a food desert as a low-income census tract where a substantial number or share of residents has low access to a supermarket or large grocery store:

To qualify as a “low-income community,” a census tract must have either: 1) a poverty rate of 20 percent or higher, OR 2) a median family income at or below 80 percent of the area's median family income; 

To qualify as a “low-access community,” at least 500 people and/or at least 33 percent of the census tract's population must reside more than one mile from a supermarket or large grocery store (for rural census tracts, the distance is more than 10 miles).

From the middle of the map, you can see that there are two distinct pink areas. One is the town of Oxford, the other the "town" of University. University = The University of Mississippi. Both are classified as "urban." So let's get this straight, poor college kids have to travel more than a mile to find a grocery store. And yet...

Dining options at Ole Miss

Take a peek at the menus at the Marketplace. If it's been a while since you've had "cafeteria" food at a state university you will be bowled over by the quality and selection. And I don't say this in the abstract. I've eaten many times at Ole Miss-- good stuff. (Not as good as, say Proud Larry's in Oxford, but still good.)

There are 14 grocery stores with "Oxford" in their address. I know most on this list are stop & robs, but still, there's a WalMart Supercenter and a Kroger. And let's not forget that population of Oxford is 18,916 (2010 census). 

I have some problems with the notion of food desert. By definition, in an urban area, if 500 people or 33% of the census tract's population live more than one mile from a supermarket or large grocery store, that area is a desert. Whoever came up with this stuff has no conception of small-town life.

1. What is the definition of "large" in this context? Is it proportional to population size? Even if you combine Oxford's permanent resident population with the on-campus population, how many grocery stores can Oxford support?
2. Why one mile? Or 10? At best this seems arbitrary. At worst it reflects an assumption that one mile is a really really big distance, which it might be if you don't have a vehicle (i.e., if you are accustomed to using public transportation to scoot around D.C.).
3. Why supermarkets? Why not canvas all available food access locations? "... who has taken to parking a pick-up truck just north of the three-way intersection... ." Again, there are some underlying assumptions at work.

I'll grant that there are people in the United States who have to travel long distances to get to a grocery store. And I'll grant that some percentage of them are "poor." But guess what? They mange to figure things out! I have never driven past a body of someone who'd keeled over from starvation while walking to the grocery store. Not once.

On a related note, did you know that the quality of my life is low because I live more than 10 miles from the Getty Museum?

Oxford Town, Oxford Town

As I posted yesterday, there's an article up at NRO about what a great place The South is. It's gotten a bit of attention in the part of the World Wide Web that I frequent. Here's Glenn Reyonlds response:

To be honest, we’d rather word didn’t get out. Stay away! In fact, I need to point this out: The South is a cultural desert, across which ride Klansmen on horseback and NASCAR fans in F350 Dually pickups. The cultural center is Wal-Mart, and the occasional tailgater before a lynching. Gunshows are disdained as the domain of pointy-headed intellectuals, because they also sell books. No, really, that’s all true — stay away! For the love of God, stay away!

UPDATE: Reader Phil Manhard emails: “I wish to add that we have fire ants, sinkholes, red tide, shark attacks, huge and regular brush fires, sandspurs, sunburn, hurricanes (though, unexpectedly!, none in the last couple of years). Yes, for the love of God, stay far away!”

And the chiggers. Beastly critters you want no part of. Stay in Massachusetts!

And we are ever so unworldly-- which reminds me of a story.

A friend, I'll call him T, used to live in a very nice older subdivision in Memphis-- large trees and big lots separated by fences. T was very good friends with M, a Brit. M is one of the snottiest, most arrogant, insufferable human beings I've ever met-- Brit or otherwise. How T & M became friends I will never understand. 

Anyway, M was visiting Memphis and T had him over for a cookout. T's neighbor was in her yard, across the fence. As T tells this story, his neighbor was a first-class busy body (as a lot of Southern women are). So she hollers over the fence, "Hey, ya'll," and T is obligated to introduce M. 

She proceeds to chat it up with M, finally asking, "Where y'all from?" 

To which M, in his snotty, most arrogant, insufferable British accent, replies, "Oxford." 

The neighbor gets a funny look on her face and says, "Funny. Ya don't sound like yur from Mississippi."

Oxford, Mississippi is so backward it still has phone booths!