Showing posts with label potatoes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label potatoes. Show all posts

Sunday, April 28, 2024

2024 April 20, Courtland Walking Hayride Tour

While waiting for the rain to stop, everyone met at the Courtland Heritage Museum established in 2009.

Courtland Heritage Museum 

Inside we learned about the History of One of the South's first railroads. This railroad ran southward through Courland and linked the Tennessee Valley to Tuscaloosa and lower Alabama. 

There were court records of the early marriages in Lawrence County on display.

We learned about how the Red Rovers were organized at Courtland in 1835 to aid Texas in its struggle for independence. 

We learned that several cotton gins once operated in and around Courtland. 

Once the rain stopped we loaded onto a hay bail wagon  that was pulled by a truck 

Our guide stood at the back of the wagon informing us about Courtland's historic homes and sites. 

We stopped in front of several historic homes. 

Tweedy-Northon-Morris-Thompson House

One of our stops was the Tweedy-Northon-Morris-Thompson House.

Richard Thompson owner of the home, stood on his porch and gave us the history of his fully restored home.

Richard joined our group throughout the tour. 

One of our stops was the Courtland Presbyterian Church built in 1821. Both our guide and Mr Thompson worship there. 

The first church burned in the 1850s. 

Construction of the new church began in 1859 but was not completed unit the end of the Civil War in 1868.

The church represents the mingling of classical and Italian influences.

The town square contains many empty buildings of the Federal Style architecture. A park with several historic markers,  a fountain,  and a gazebo. 

Another home we stopped at was the Harris Simpson House, a good example of the early American "I" house. For its tall, narrow side profile.  This house occupants trace back to the famous James Jackson of the Forks of Cypress Florence, Al. 

Harris-Simpson House 

So much history for such a small town. They had a tiny theater that is now a residence. I said it sure was small. Everyone laughed and our tour guide said it was big enough for their small town. I grew up in the Shoals area with several theaters in Sheffield, Tuscumbia, and Florence. I remember going to most of them including the drive-in.

On our way home we stopped at Lash's Seafood for lunch where hubby and I split a shrimp boil meal that consisted of Shrimp, corn, potatoes, and sausages.

It was delicious.

Lash's Seafood shrimp  boil 


Tuesday, March 3, 2015

Events with my grandparents2

Sweet Potato Kisses was one of a favorite dessert that my grandmother would prepare for us.
The receipt of her potato kisses:
You take a small potato boil it with the jacket on and cook until done.
Peel the potato mash it up and roll it out. 
Add powder sugar and peanut butter to the center. 
Take all ingredients and roll into a ball and slice into pieces.

During the holidays my grandmother would spend hours making our Christmas presents.
She was very handy with a needle and thread. She would make for us sock monkeys, rag dolls, and dresses, every stitch was sown in love. 

My grandmother had very little when it came to income, she could stretch that dollar. 
She always had a Christmas tree beautifully decorated that would light up any room.
When she plugged the Christmas light into the wall sockets, the Christmas lights would start to bubble, the angel hair and icicles gleamed. 
She would make a pot of popcorn that we would string. She would take construction paper cut it into strips that we would glue together to make a rope to string on her tree.

My grandfather loved to smoke that Prince Albert tobacco and when he would run out of his tobacco, he would give us grandkids a nickel and we would walk to the store to buy him some smoking tobacco and white paper.
I loved to watch my grandfather take the white papers and roll his tobacco inside.

I remember once when I was outside playing, I stepped on a honey bee with my barefoot, my grandfather pulled the out stinger out of my foot and covered the swollen spot with some of his Prince Albert tobacco.

I know my grandfather had a kind heart, or my grandmother would have not married my grandfather. As the years progressed my grandfather depended on liquor.
When I was still very young, I remember sitting next to my grandfather on the sofa, as he told scary stories. 
The one I remember most was about bloody bones.
The story would end with my grandfather saying,
Going up one step, going up two-step and he would continue on counting going up the steps when all of a sudden he was shout out “GOT You” we would jump up with fright.

My grandfather loved the feel of earth with his hands. For many years my grandparents raised a vegetable garden that provided for food for them and they sold the access for income.

My grandparent's backyard was filled with apple trees peach trees, pear trees and plum trees that my grandmother would take and make jams and jellies and they sold the access for cash for this was their source of income.
My grandfather had one Chinaberry Tree that produced chinaberries which I never knew the use and they stunk to high heaven.
We were forbidden to climb in the fruit trees but that never stopped us.
My grandfather loved to tease us, he would tell us if we swallow a seed from any plant that they would grow inside of us.

It was my grandmother that introduced me to God and the church. 
I would ride with my cousin and grandmother to a small church on the north side of Sheffield. 
Mr. Ulman, a member of the church, volunteered to take my grandmother and her grandchildren to church for he passed by her house on his way to church. 
Not sure if Mr. Ulman was single but I know his wife never attended church. He was an older man so he could have been a widower.
If it had not been for Mr. Ulman my grandmother would have had to walk to church.

In Sunday class, I learned about Daniel and the Lions Den, about Adam and Eve, about Noah building the Ark, about Shadrack, Meshach, and Abednego and how the angel walked inside the blazing furnace with them. 
Each week we were given a pamphlet, which includes a picture of that week's lesson that we could take home,  which I treasured.
After Sunday school class, we would reassemble in the auditorium for Church.
There would be someone playing the piano and someone playing a (squeezebox) accordion.
It was amazing, the music that machine would belt out, a man would stand while compressing and expanding the bellows while pressing buttons on the right side of the accordion.
One of my favorite Christian songs that we sang during service was “WHEN THE ROLL IS CALLED UP YONDER.”
The preacher would give a long sermon and then he would be dismissed, everyone.
I remember one Sunday night after services and Mr. Ullman was driving us home when the right door on the passenger's side of his car flew open when Mr. Ullman turned left at the red light on North Montgomery Avenue when out flew my cousin right into the street.
Thank goodness we were not going too fast and she only had a few scratches on her elbow and hands.

My mom’s parents depended on my dad to take them places for my grandparents could not afford a car. 
When my grandmother wanted to visit her sister that lived on Penny Lane in Huntsville, everyone would load into my parent station wagon and we would ride to Huntsville. 
It would be a day trip and my aunt would prepare a nice meal for our visit.

My grandmother's father and step-mother lived in Town Creek.
When my grandmother wanted to visit her father, she and my grandfather would take the train from Sheffield to Town Creek. 
The Sheffield Depot was within walking distance from my grandparent's house.
In fact, the train tracks were so close that when I would spend the night at my grandparents, I could hear trains blowing their horns to warn people they were coming down the tracks as I lay in the bed trying to sleep.

Sometimes our whole family would pile into our station wagon, along with my grandparents and we would all ride to Town Creek.
I loved to visit my great grandfather he was a kind-hearted soul, a jolly man and very involved with us kids.
I remember my grand grandfather showing us how to put a straw stick into a hole, wiggle the straw and we would pull out a worm he called Chicken Chokers.
Chicken Chokers are larvae of tiger beetles that ambush predators of other insects, lying in wait in their burrows with their heads flush with the surface of the soil.  
The chickens do more harm to the larvae than the grubs.

My great grandparents lived in an old discarded military dining trailer that they had purchased from the army. 

In the middle of the trailer were three steps leading to the front door.
Once inside to the right was a large, round, oak dining table with a half-round bench encircling it.
A couple steps down was the living room with a couple of rockers and next to the rockers was their bed and standing just out from the wall was a coal heater. 
At the very end was the kitchen which had been build to cook for a large crowd of men at mess time.
My great-grandfather was visiting his son in Lakeland Florida when he passed away at the age of eighty. His body was returned back to Alabama where he was buried. 


The first funeral that I ever remember attending was that of my great-grandfather. 

Thursday, November 6, 2014

I AM ~POEM

I am from the English and Irish breed; from panned fried Idaho potatoes and steaming hot Aunt Jamima yellow cornbread.

I am from a warm cozy loving home, full of children running, screaming, laughing and playing from dawn to dusk and the smell of apple pie baking in the oven.

I am from Butterfly, Swamp, Bulk, and Common Milkweed that grow freely in fields.

I am from the fighting Irish Walls and traveling English Rumbold’s; long live the queen of England.

I am from Charles’s many, stormy, sailing voyages to Mary Hasbrouck, Dunedin, New Zealand, Shang High, Hong Kong, China, just to name a few.

My crimson blood flows deep, within for wild adventures, many travels, and the love of history.

Salvation fills my soul with one true God.

I am from the Heart of Dixie, the birthplace of Helen Keller, home of Roll Tide, singing group Alabama, from Hawk Pride Mountain, and the catfish filled singing Tennessee River.

I am a devout Christian woman who would give you her last morsel, a grandfather that loved the spirit of the drink.

Stored away in my attic are memories of letters, and pictures filled with hot cotton fields, raging ocean waves, smoke-filled mountaintops, and the deep love of family.  

What a life!

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