Mexican Cream

I was at the store shopping when what did I spy with my little eye? A Guayaba. Yeah, that is what I said and, there it was in the fruit section looking strange and yellow. So I bought it and I have no idea what it is or how to use it. It smells like grapefruit and magnolias. It is actually a guava. An apple guava.  The species I have is called a Mexican Cream.

 It comes from a shrub or small tree found in the Caribbean, South America and Central America. In other words this is pirate food and also a favorite of honey bees.  In the Middle East it is called an amrood from the word amroot meaning pear. They can be the size of a fig such as the one I bought or as large as a grapefruit. Mine is yellow skinned with white juicy flesh on the inside but, they can be red skinned and have pink or red flesh on the inside.

The plant is used in many types of shampoo for its scent. 

It is part of the Myrtle family of trees. You know, as in Crepe Myrtle. Those beautiful flowering trees with the pink, purple, red and white flowers draping from them. The white ones look like they are covered in popcorn.

Here is the secret to Hawaiian Bar BQ. They use guava wood as opposed to Texas people who use mesquite wood. And, the secret to Cuban Bar BQ is they use the guava leaf. Agua Fresca that delicious Mexican beverage is made from guava.

They are rich in Vitamin C as much as 4 times more Vitamin C than an orange, folic acid also known as vitamin Bg.  They are high in antioxidants. Parts of the guava plant have been used in folk medicine for many years for such things as pain, inflammation, diabetes, bacterial infections and cancer.  In some countries it is steeped as tea and a treatment for dysentery and fever. 

I am eating this little thing for breakfast today.

Yo!! Idiot man! You are in the right turn lane I am in the left turn lane that means that when my turn left light comes on I get to turn left. Not you!! You crossed two lanes of traffic and caused a massive freak out at the intersection because when you moved the guy in the middle lane moved and I was moving. He nearly hit you!!! But did that stop you from making a mad dash left from the right turn lane? NO!!  If you realize you are in the wrong lane make your turn anyway and then turn around in a parking lot and correct it! What a bloody wanker!!! I know your cousin!!!! Freak.

Did I tell you about the woman I heard complaining about getting foot cramps in her feet? Where else would she get foot cramps?? Her elbows?

You know what I miss most about an X? NO!!!! He used to send me flowers. No occasion, no reason just every couple of weeks a bouquet of flowers would be delivered. It was spontaneous and very pleasing, each bouquet was very different from the previous and I felt adored, cherished and appreciated.  I know all girls do not enjoy getting flowers. 

Some say it is because they die. Others may say it because they just never get any so it is easier on the heart and the emotions to just say they do not like them. But I love them. My least favorite are red roses. They are so overdone and their meaning has long been lost. Men use red roses most of the time as a band-aid for misbehaving. When I lived in California I bought fresh flowers at the farmers market every weekend. I could buy four bunches of assorted blossoms for about $20 and decorate my entire house in bouquets. I miss that. 

 Have I ever mentioned the X that refused to let me buy a $4 bouquet of pink roses at a grocery store while we were shopping because “I did not deserve them”? Do you know what I have to say to him? BLOODY Wanker!!!! Yep…. It seems that even though the Xs were all different them seem now that I look back to be the same guy. My guy picker is broken. Or else some other female has stolen him. I got words for her!!!!

I have a parting question for you all. Do pigs eat hay?

Ghostly Phone

As I was getting ready to start this letter Isis, my daughter’s dog,

 who was lying on the end of the bed looked up at the ceiling fan that I had just turned off. She then jumped up and looked at it and then at me. She leaped from the bed, turned and looked up at the fan, then at me and then back at the fan.

  Dashed from the room, turned around at the door and stood with her head cocked staring at the ceiling fan. I can see the fan as I sit here and noticed nothing but, I had yet to look directly at the fan because frankly I was fretful I might see something. A huge spider, a giant cookaroach, a snake, the ceiling swirly in a ghostly white vortex of plaster and mist, a bloody leg dangling from the apartment above me. A vampire hanging from a fan blade. A demon clinging with sharp talons from the space behind the motor just outside of my vision.  Isis gave me a long look, the ceiling a glare and raced off. I got off the bed and with my eyes glued to the fan circled it looking for whatever terrifying monster was going to leap off at me. There is nothing there. That does not mean there is nothing there; that just means I cannot see what she saw.

This all reminds me that last night when I turned off my phone and set it down I heard a man’s voice come from the phone in a language I could not detect, say three short words, the final word fading. I picked up my phone and there on the screen was a picture frame. It looked like it was made of wood elaborately carved. It circled the entire size of my screen perfectly and was rectangle in shape. 

There was nothing in the frame; it was not clear like a photograph but shrouded like I might have been looking at it in a darkened room. A voice, which seemed to be inside my head screamed at me not to look or move the phone so that my face was framed. I put the phone down and as soon as I did I wondered if what I had just seen had really happened. I picked the phone up again it was black, blank, shut off. I let the strangeness of it all disappear.

Now I am trying to remember a few strange things that happened yesterday that gave me pause. They seem to have drifted off, out of my memory. They were very odd and I can remember stopping briefly after each incident to wonder at it but then the feeling quickly dissipated like fog, there for a moment and then gone like it had never been. I just do not remember what they were. Seems important now.

On to a rant where I will again ask how does one not see my very large car? It is huge, dark grey and I am not actively using my Romulan cloaking device. I had pulled up to a stop at an intersection where I was going straight and just to my right the cross street fed traffic turning right into my lane with only a yield sign. I had stopped well back of the yield sign so I would not block traffic and could help improve the flow into my lane from the feed. A car pulled up to the yield sign as the light in my lane changed to green. I waved him on ahead of me and easily pulled up behind him as the traffic slowly started forward. It was then that I noticed a white Mercedes convertible had not stopped or slowed down at the yield sign even though there was a line of cars blocking her progress into the lane we were in. She followed the car I had allowed in front of me as though she had rights and entitlement to not be courteous or obey a large, red, triangular YIELD sign.

 I assumed that she would stop or slow down. I was wrong. She plowed ahead and kept coming, I looked over at her and she was looking out her window to her right not even looking at the traffic. I waited a bit longer for her to come out of her coma and then BAM!!!! I slammed my hand down onto my horn. She looked straight ahead, hit her brakes and then looked over at me like I had done something to greatly offend her. Really?? She then tried to go ahead and get in front of me. Again I say REALLY???  This is a Lincoln Town car sister!! It eats little Mercedes for Lunch!!! We are Alpha! Get your skinny, pilates, yoga panted self, back behind me where you belong!  

But wait! There is more. I am cruising down a residential street doing the stated speed of 20 mph when sitting there at a stop sign is a minivan. You people should know by now how I feel about minivan drivers and their self-important sense of entitlement dragging their over scheduled, over indulged soccer clad kids around annoying us non mortals to no end. A sense of dread overcomes me and that elusive feeling that this is going to be an encounter of a personal nature overwhelms me. I remove my foot from the gas pedal in anticipation of her next move. I do not have a stop sign and as I said she did.  I have my hand poised over my horn and as I am about to cross the street at the intersection she pulls forward and makes her left turn. I lay my hand gently on the horn and press, and press, and press while applying pressure to the brake and what does this cow do?  She starts screaming at me, 

screaming. Her face is contorted into a look I can only define as horrific, her distorted mouth is moving in a frenzy of words I cannot even fathom. She has one hand on the steering wheel and the other making gestures at me from inside her foul cockpit. I stop. I look at her in my rearview mirror and contemplate turning around and following her to her final destination where I will be tempted to write her a scathing note about her lack of poise, grace, beauty, and driving skills. I drive on.

To the man who decided to not engage his brain before leaving home. Stop texting while you drive!!! Did you miss the memo that says it is not safe?

Well, I must soldier on I have duties to perform. 

Windsor Remains

Not far from Grand Gulf Mississippi with it forts and battles and history are the remains of a beautiful plantation home called Windsor. I had wanted to see it but had failed to notify Seamus for fear my suggestions would be become an agenda and we would miss the randomness of an escapade, an adventure, a meandering, relaxing journey.  I just was not sure he would get it. I was right. I know it was just that he was eager to please and picked and chose those things that he also wanted to do but it took the spontaneity that I so adore out of the event. It became a mad race to accomplish an itinerary. It was stress, I had an amazing journey even so. Trapped deep in heart I longed for those weeks on the back of that bike where we just rode and stopped and immersed ourselves into random moments of bliss. 

                                                           Windsor Plantation

We saw many things and all of them were precious moments that we just came upon. Meteorites, hand dug wells, haunted plantations…so many unexpected treasures. The drive I have made to California twice by different routes; cave drawings, caverns draped in ancient ice, extinct volcanoes all random stops on an adventure to home. Stopping and climbing down to the beach because there is a rock with a hole in it that begs to be photographed. Finding a hotel in Death Valley so we can watch a meteor shower with no city lights. Do not get me wrong, I had a lovely adventure and it was his first time pirating with me. I was not even sure where in Mississippi Windsor was, but I knew I wanted to experience it and my prayer was that we would just happen upon it and we did; because we randomly stopped at Grand Gulf where the lovely woman at the visitor center asked if we were going there. Yes, yes we are I answer as I gasp with awe and joy. She showed us on a map the way down back roads. The same back roads that took us through the Nuclear Power plant.

                                                                 Southwind Ranch

I need to tell another story about another home here for a moment, some of you may or may not have seen. On highway 181, which I like to call the back road to Mustang Island near Karnes City sitting off the highway on a slight hill is a very large home. It looks almost out of place but is grand and beautiful, surrounded by fenced in pastures, barns, and pond with assorted other out buildings. It is called Southwind Ranch. It is currently for sale. It is the result of a dream of Arturo Torres and was designed by Mike Stephens of Jackson Mississippi to be a replica of Windsor Plantation.

                                                           How Southwind looks from 181

Let’s go backward now….

Windsor sits out in the middle of practically nowhere. It is remote which adds to the haunting beauty. You sort of just come up on it and could almost miss it. As a matter of fact we did miss a few things in Mississippi. They do not easily mark their treasures. They are marked mind you, but if you are not in slow southern mode you will miss them. There is no advance notice. It is all part of what I found charming and yet frustrating about her. She has a graceful beauty but she also keeps secrets. I was intrigued by her. When I told people I was going to the exotic land of Mississippi on vacation I anticipated doubtful looks and bouts of laughter. I endured the rolling eyes and sad head shakes. But I was right, she is an exotic land.

In 1859 Smith Coffee Daniel II started building Windsor near Port Gibson on the Mississippi and it was finished in 1861. He had married Catherine Freeland in 1849 and they had three children. He moved his family into Windsor and a few short weeks later he died. He was 34. His wife decided to stay at the home and raise their children. In 1890 a house-guest who was smoking a cigarette dropped it near a pile of rubbish left by carpenters who were making repairs to the third floor, which caught on fire. The flames were quickly out of control and the entire home and everything inside was destroyed. It was not rebuilt. What remains are the original columns that supported the roof and verandas that circled the home on two floors. The columns are topped with iron capitals that were manufactured in St. Louis and brought by boat down the Mississippi to Port Bruinsburg not far from the home.

 There were 29 of these columns and only 23 remain; a few still connected by decorative balustrade.  

When the house burned, everything burned with it including the only known blueprints and journals about the house, its dimensions and its daily life. There were no drawings or photographs of the once glorious house. Then, many years after the civil war a paper was found in the possessions of an old man who had been a Union soldier during the long ago war. The house had been used by the Confederate troops because it had a very tall copula on the top and they could messages across the Mississippi to Louisiana. It was also used by the Union as a hospital. On this piece of paper was a drawing made in 1863 of Windsor in all its glory.

                                         Drawing made by Henry Ottis Dwight in 1863

 With this; measurements from what was left and the memories of Smith Coffee Daniel IV they were able to reconstruct Windsor for Mr. Torres in Karnes City Texas.

I was the first person the woman at the visitor center said, that had ever seen Southwind Ranch and knew which house in Texas she was talking about.

The columns are no longer washed in white. They are grey and the plaster is cracked, reminding me of the wrinkles we shall all someday have creating a history on our faces. In other places the plaster is missing, having fallen away, showing the bricks used in their construction. 

They are red and beautiful green moss grows across some of them telling me there is still life within the building.

 In some places weeds grow right out of the layers of moss on a shattered cornice piece or near an iron capital.

 There is just something very grand and regal about the ruins, perhaps it is that the columns still bear their ornate tops, perhaps it is the salute to the strength and resilience of the people of Mississippi.  There is just something about the place that leaves me feeling joyful and at the same time melancholy. Is it haunted?

 Yes, but not by ghosts of those who lived there; more like remnants from the celebrations and happiness that thrived there, the overwhelming loss that occurred there, the vitality of those who worked and lived there.

Windsor was amazing. It was the perfect plantation for this visit because it was also photographed by Eudora Welty 

                                           You can see the shadow of Eudora Welty in the forground

and this trip was Operation Eudora and all about Eudora Welty. 

Ah... Grasshopper

I bought some jicama at the store for us to eat in a fruit salad I would be making. No one else likes it. What is jicama you may ask? It is tasty!!

Jicama is known as Mexican Yam or Mexican turnip.  It is actually from the bean family and is called jicama de agua. The flowers on the plant can be either blue or white.

The exterior is yellow and papery while the edible inside has the texture of a pear. It is a sweet and starchy taste similar to apples or green beans. It is usually eaten raw. The root of the plant is the edible part. The plant originated in Mexico and was taken to the Philippines by Spanish explorers, then on to China and the rest of Asia.

It is composed of 89% water. It is a good source of potassium and Vitamin C, is high in fiber and many minerals. It promotes bone health by promoting calcium absorption from other foods. It zaps free radicals and fights cancer, inflammation, colds and infections.

One jicama can weigh up to 50 pounds. They are usually harvested when they are 5 pounds.

Speaking of eating, Odessie asked, while we were waiting in the ER what grasshoppers ate. They are strict herbivores. They eat plants and have very fierce looking teeth. Their favorite foods are corn, wheat barley, alfalfa, and grass. Grasshoppers make great pets and can be kept in containers as long as they have air and are fed vegetables, leaves and grass.

Why did she ask this question you wonder….well…  Her friend Angie came over for dinner and I asked if she wanted salad. Angie replied NO she was not a grasshopper. Who says that? Grasshopper? Maybe sheep, No I am not a sheep. Maybe answer with No, I eat meat. Or, I am a carnivore. Or, leaves are for sissies. No she informed us she was not a grasshopper. Bloody Hell!! It is not like I would invite a grasshopper to dinner! My thought is, you are in the wrong house girl. We do not consume massive chunks of flesh here!!! 

Grasshopper!!! I envision myself as the old Kung-Fu master from that TV show with David Carradine… Ah, grasshopper you have much to learn.

Meemaw!! What are you doing?? I am walking across the parking lot to get inside the store and there she is. Meemaw is backing up out of a parking space. I too found nothing unusual about this at first. She slowly backs and backs and I wait. She has backed all the way out and can now maneuver herself into a turn and safely drive away. Any minute…any minute… no she drives forward and through the spot she has just backed out of. Okay she is going to park in the forward facing slot so she can just pull forward and leave instead of backing up. I have done that many times. I walk on past and up to the door of the store. Before I open the door and go inside a soft voice tells me to turn and check on Meemaw. She has driven on through the other space and is now maneuvering the turn to leave the parking space and drive away. I watch as she disappears down the road. What??? Was she doing?

I received a voice mail from a phone number I do not recognize saying, “I have a shirt I will never wear, EVER. I thought your daughter might like to have it. Call me!”  Uhm… NO! Who are you??

And, what is with this now very common phenomena?? There is not a vehicle for a mile or more behind me. I can see a little white car waiting to turn onto the road. I am driving at the suggested speed. The car waits and waits (he could have pulled out much earlier and not have been a safety hazard). Then right as I am about 24 feet from him he decides to turn onto the road. I am cruising at 40 mph. I am in a huge Lincoln Town car, these do not stop on direct command. 

They need room like a 57 car train needs room to stop. I slam on the brakes and the horn. He does not move, he does not speed up, in fact I do not believe his foot even touched the gas pedal upon completion of the turn. I believe he slowed down. I am still lying on the horn as I watch his eyeballs stare at me from his rear view mirror. Yeah, they were blue. He still does not speed up he just continues to slow down still staring at me and still no cars behind me in sight. There is an oncoming truck so I cannot move. Fortunately the driver of the truck is paying attention and moves over as far as he can and slows in case I jump lanes to avoid smashing into idiot man. Charles starts to slide and I am still pressing on the horn the car still is not moving or gaining speed. His eyes are still looking back at me in the mirror. It is at this moment I am seriously wishing my pretend rocket launcher was real. Charles screeches to a halt about two feet from behind him. He looks at me again from his mirror and laughs. LAUGHS! Then slowly accelerates and drives on. The oncoming truck looks over at me and with a concerned question on his face throws a look at the guy in the little white car, his arms in the air, shakes his head and drives on.

 I am frantically pressing every button Charles has and hoping one of them is a rocket launcher. I am going to obliterate that bloody wanker in the little white car. I need to move to the city where I do not need to drive or to the country where there is less traffic or to an island. Anyone have a ranch house in Montana I could rent?

Adventures through ER

I would like to interrupt this reminiscing about Mississippi for a moment to tell you about the last few days of my life.

Monday night we took Odessie to the ER. We got there at 9. We were triaged at 10. At about 1:45 AM we were taken to a room. In storms the nurse, Steve, he informs us he hates midgets, clowns and cannot stand people with beards. Glad we are women, beardless, over 5’10” tall and dressed in our pajamas. He is quite insane. He tells us he is a certified diver. He later tells us is was a Navy Seal. He later tells us was paratrooper and has well over 112 jumps. He tells us he was Special Forces. He tells us he has dated Super Models in Europe. He was married for 3 months. He let his wife have the dog. He has a son in Holland. He lives on a ranch that costs over 10 million dollars. Each time he comes into the room he has a fantastic tale. He falls in love and out of love with Odessie about 24 times. He tells us he cannot wait to get off shift because he is going to visit the woman, whom he claims is his good friend, who burnt her house down and murdered her child.  As I said before he is insane. However, the time seems to pass quickly and he is entertaining and Odessie is laughing through her fear and pain. Before we realize it the time has passed and it is now about 4 AM. The doctor makes it in and decides it is a UTI. However she does not have the telltale symptom for that. SO …. He comes back to her room and orders some tests. Those come back and show something and he orders more tests. This is the first Doc in 5 ER visits to stop and listen to what she says. His hesitation is confirmed when the ultrasound test comes back showing an 8cm mass behind her uterus. PROBLEM!!!! He calls another hospital and requests a specialist. She is transferred.

The Doc comes to the hospital and reviews her test results. Next thing we know he is in her room telling her he has ordered emergency surgery and this will be major surgery not a small hole but making an incision in her abdomen. She freaks out but there is really no time. They prep her and move her to a gurney and wheel her to a surgical ward.  She is in surgery for about an hour when the Doc comes out to tell me that she is fine and in recovery. However, her fallopian tube was black, dead and had twisted over itself 3 times. Her ovary was blackish red and enlarged and had moved in behind her uterus. The average size for an ovary is about walnut sized. Hers was large grapefruit sized. He removed the tube but when he removed the ovary it exploded in his hands and blood clots and bloody fluid went everywhere.  The other ovary was damaged. He repaired it. Her chances of having another baby are slim. Had this exploded in her there would have been an entire different set of complications.

Now, move several hours forward. She gets a roommate. An insane one. This woman has visitors and they chat for hours. No problem. She calls her daughters who speak very harshly to her on speaker. No problem. She tells her Doc one thing, the nurses another thing, two specialists another thing and when they call her on the differences she pleads she has a massive headache and wants to be left in peace. They recommend an ice pack and other things, she just wants drugs. She keeps changing her symptoms to get better drugs. Then she has some visitors. They leave and we get visitors. We are all chattering and the woman decides to call her daughter again, on speaker. She talks very loud and starts whining about symptoms and how the Docs will not listen and they will not give her pain meds. Her daughter asks if the Doc is there now because she can hear male voices. The woman says, “No it is those people, they are talking and they will not shut up!!!”. Her daughter suggests she close the door. “NO they are in my room and will not stop talking!!” Mom! It is their room too and they were in there before you got there. So the mom starts whining again and her daughter tells her good bye. Our guests leave and she gets some. Do we complain they are talking? NO! But wait! At about 9:00 PM she just starts talking to nobody. She is having an entire conversation and after short pauses makes random statements that she responds to. This goes on for hours. The nurse comes in and believes she is talking to her so she responds but the woman’s response makes no sense. Odessie tells me this went on all night long. By the time I get there the woman is sitting in a chair pretending to sleep. Insane!! At first it was a stroke and then she fell and then it is just migraines and then it is because she had a heart attack 3 years ago, on and on the different stories went. Insane.

One afternoon after the billing clerk has already been in to see us another woman comes in and is the poster child for hateful. She screeches questions at Odessie, who has  been out of surgery less than 16 hours. Where is Cedar Park? Why are you at this hospital? How did you get here? Where will you stay when you leave here? I am sure there are indigent hospitals in Austin.  

    WTF???? Did she just say to my child? I stand up taller and turn my full attention to her. She looks at me and I take two steps toward her. She backs up three and swallows, her head rapidly moving back and forth between Odessie and me. To answer your question, I say, she came here in an ambulance, from another hospital for emergency surgery, she will stay at my house, I AM HER MOTHER!! Oh… well…. She…. YOU can leave now! I tell her. But…. Sign these…. She has already signed papers. Thank you GOODBYE!!! You judgmental, prissy, indifferent, self-righteous, pathetic, sad little woman!! (I am thinking). My daughter’s purse costs more than you make in a month! Shut up!!!  

We are at my home now. No crazy ladies anywhere. 

Grand Gulf Drone

Before leaving the Grand Gulf Military Park we take a very short drive over to the Mississippi River. 

There it is in all its massive glory flowing merrily along its chosen path to the Gulf of Mexico. It is not raging nor roaring but almost skipping along as though it has embarked upon a grand adventure and is joyfully strolling on. The river is much different at ground zero, face to face. More personal but still edgy and deceptively dangerous, than when you look down on it from high above on a bridge. It almost beckons "come Tamara, let's have an escapade and be river pirates!” It is tempting.

You can see the whirlpool that caused the river to create the gulf and the several mini whirls that spin off of the larger one. We startle a couple of turtles and their splash startles us too. The edge is right in front of us we could walk right up and touch water but we don't. It has been raining and the bank is muddy and slippery.

There on the cult de sac by the river is a measuring post. It measures the river and is marked after great floods. 

The first marker is 1927 the river crested at 56.2 feet above its normal height. 1937 at 53.2 and so on during a very large flood year the board on the post is updated.  The highest level being that in 1927. A new board has been placed over the old board because in 2011 the water level rose to much higher than the current board allowed for. The river crested at 57.1 feet. There was 14 inches of water in the visitor center at the Fort.

As I had told you in a previous letter there is a nuclear power plant not far from Grand Gulf where the forts and the cemetery were located. I had no desire to see it having seen a few before. We were told the cooling tower was very visible from the roads we were going to take to get to Windsor Plantation and if we so desired we could stop and take photos near a gate. We said our farewells and drove on. As we rounded a curve in the road there it was, the cooling tower. It was impressive so we stopped I rolled down the window and snapped off a photograph.  

We drove on believing that was the location where we could get the best photo. Ok I had to agree I had not been that close to a nuclear cooling tower. Seamus and I are chattering away and having a very pleasant day when rounding another curve in the road we nearly run into a gate.  There to our right is the cooling tower. It is less than about a football field away. This thing is huge, massive, and enormous! I am stunned, Seamus is stunned we stare in silence. 

There on the bottom left side of the tower is a little blue dot. That is NOT a dot.

I roll down the window to get a clearer view as Seamus steps out of the car. We can hear the water as it is being moved with great speed in and out of the tower. 

That is a door for people to enter.

It sounds like rapids on a river. Steam is everywhere and high above the tower buzzards are riding in the thermals created by the tower. It is amazing and a bit eerie all at the same time creating a very surreal and spine tingling reaction in us.

 We photograph it and then Seamus stops, looks at me, gets back in the car and we drive off. He seems a bit unnerved and it becomes contagious. That is very close to the road, he says. Yes. There is just a fence and a gate, he says. Yes. There was no guard at the gate, he says. Yes, I noticed. How they know some terrorist won't just throw a grenade over the fence and blow it up, he says. I think a moment. The minute you stopped outside that gate they launched a drone. It was watching our every move and was ready to kill us if it had to. They watched as we photographed, they listened as we talked. The drone is following us now and in about 20 minutes we will see our first black SUV. We are in a rental you know. Highly suspicious. He laughed me off but within 20 minutes we encountered a black SUV following us, two cars back. We turned, it drove on and in 5 minutes another one. We laughed and for the rest of the day we noticed every black SUV on the road including one with blacked out windows that came upon us at a park, circled the parking lot and drove on. 

Grand Gulf Nuclear Station is the only one in Mississippi to produce electricity.  It is the largest single unit Nuclear power plant in America. Fifth largest in the world.

Glad we saw it!

Seamus Bee Dance

Yesterday I chatted with you about the cemetery and added the photo of James A Grubbs headstone. I had a few inquiries about the hand on the stone.  Hands carved into gravestones represent the deceased’s relationship with GOD. James has a hand on his that shows a finger pointing upward. This symbolizes a hope of heaven. His family hopes he is in heaven. It points toward a heavenly reward where his soul has risen to heaven.

I did a quick search for James and found nothing about him. Now I am curious about him and his wife Sarah. Perhaps I will hunt up their ghosts and share my finds with you.

While at the Grand Gulf Military Park a staff member mentioned that by taking back roads out of the park we could get up close and personal with the Mississippi River, the nuke plant, Fort Wade, Fort Cobun, Windsor Plantation and the Old Country store. We shall visit these. 

On the grounds are numerous rifle pits, a carriage house with a Civil War Ambulance, a blacksmith shop and the old jail cells from the town of Grand Gulf. Inside the carriage house are two old hearses brought in from New Orleans. 

 There is a church, a dog trot house, a water “Wheel House”, and even an old one man submarine powered by a Ford Model T engine that was used during prohibition to bootleg whiskey into Mississippi.

A mortar stands watch toward the Mississippi river that once graced the decks of a Union ship. 

Grand Gulf was settled by the French in 1790 and soon became a glittering gem for Mississippi with a large population, 2 churches, a hospital, a theater and was a vital stopping point for the Showboats that cruised up and down the river. A Large whirlpool on the Mississippi side of the river created over time a natural gulf and made for an excellent port. Cotton moved in and out for shipment regularly. It was even a contender to be named the capital city. Then in 1843 a massive yellow fever epidemic took many lives. This was followed by a large destructive tornado in 1853. Extreme flooding by the river one year demolished and swept away 55 city blocks from Grand Gulf. By the time the Civil War raged through there were only 200 people left in the once “grand” city. 

The Battle of Grand Gulf was one of the most massive and intense Union Naval Battles of the Civil War. It was at first a Confederate Victory but the ever determined Grant eventually won it for the Union by landing about 24,000 troops at nearby Bruinsburg making this the largest Amphibius landing during a war broken only by the Normandy Landing.  Nothing remains of Bruinsburg, the Mississippi swept it away.  Grand Gulf became a ghost town.

Did you know that bees have three photoreceptors in their eyes the same as humans do? We see the colors red, blue and green and all combinations of those colors; bees see blue- green, blue-violet and ultraviolet.  Bees will not leave their hives if deprived of UV light. The beautiful flowers we see appear in a very different way to a bee. Since they do not see red, a red flower amongst green leaves appears as just more green leaves.  I tell you this because on the day we visited Grand Gulf Seamus was wearing a striped shirt with rows of black, white, blue and red.  The bees were buzzing around him like he was their favorite flower. He was ducking and running and twirling like a dervish (a meditative dance performed by an order of Turkish monks to achieve religious ecstasy).

 As I said, I saw black, white, blue and red on Seamus' shirt. Here is what the bees saw…

ME                    BEE

Black                Black

White               Blue-Green

Blue                  Blue and in the UV light - Violet

Red                   Black and in the UV light – Violet

He looked like a delicious bed of flowers. I apologize there is no video.