9:23 PM |
A few additions/clarifications to yesterday's post. Tester bed is really pronounced teester. I looked it up on the dictionary site that speaks the words. It is not European, though. It is from Middle English, derived from the Latin. So I guess the Latin is European, but it got bastardized by the English, those bastards. The English are no Europeans, I tell you. At Dunleith, I asked Annalow how many people they can fit in there for a wedding. They seat about 225 with all those terrible round tables, you know, the ones that the Presbyterians use, she whispered. Also, the children at Rosalie kept squirrels as pets in the basement.
Once again, it was a joy to be part of the Monmouth family. Christy, the girl who found me a hairdresser, gave the tour. I have been sleeping on a bed that is part of the tour. They even have a postcard of it in the gift shop. I bought one for $1.25. They put it in a nice white bag and put the gold Monmouth seal on the closing. I forgot to steal the pen from the room and it was definitely worth stealing. Hygenic, too, with a little cellophane envelope over it. Rashanda served me breakfast. It is the first time I've heard a non-slave name used in Mississippi. As I left, Hal nearly ran me over with his golf cart. And I was in Woody when it happened. There is definitely a reason for Hal's earplugs. I never got to ask him. Carol in reception was another doll. Gave me great directions to the hair place. When I was there, I found out that in Natchez, it is the beauty shop. Monmouth, by the way, was named by a guy from Monmouth, New Jersey. He was poor. When he moved to Natchez he became the postmaster. I'm not sure how you build a plantation on government pay, but there you have it. The last two of the family girls thought the house was old and uncool so they shut the doors one day and just walked away. It was vacant for forty years. They had to use things like giant braces headgear to straighten out the bricks. It was kind of like the rack, too. They make one or two turns of the things every night, pulling the bricks out of their sockets.The wall paper is the same Jackie O put in the white house. Monmouth had it first, obviously, as the mansion was built in 1810. I saw a quote at the Dunleith bar the other day: I want to live my life, not document it. That was said by same Jackie O. I'm in trouble now! I met Jim from California on the way out. He has gone from there to Natchez by motorcycle before. He said there are a lot of woodies in California and he should buy one. He has a '71 pickup. He is smart and looks like an older, tanner Jackie Chan with salt and pepper hair. Very sexy.
Went to beauty shop. Was an hour early. I have never changed my watch off Eastern Time because I am always late, and I don't want to be an hour late when I get back to my normal time. So I walked around town. Checked out the Eola Hotel. The lobby isn't really that great. Checked out Grand Hotel. Very glad I didn't stay there. Seven school buses and 2 gigantic tour buses in parking lot. Teenage girls from Jackson, Mississippi play chicken with you when you are going one way and they are three abreast going the other way. In spite of my detestation of mean girls, they won. Walked by Bowie's Tavern. This is the other beastly restaurant owned by the Dunleith people. There was a store attached (don't those ghastly people quit opening stuff?). It is called Bowie's Outfitters and has lots of fishing gear, as well as cartridges stacked by the window. Sign at door: No loaded firearms, please. There is also a bar with a shamrock in its name that advertises shots special, open at 2 p.m.
Once again, it was a joy to be part of the Monmouth family. Christy, the girl who found me a hairdresser, gave the tour. I have been sleeping on a bed that is part of the tour. They even have a postcard of it in the gift shop. I bought one for $1.25. They put it in a nice white bag and put the gold Monmouth seal on the closing. I forgot to steal the pen from the room and it was definitely worth stealing. Hygenic, too, with a little cellophane envelope over it. Rashanda served me breakfast. It is the first time I've heard a non-slave name used in Mississippi. As I left, Hal nearly ran me over with his golf cart. And I was in Woody when it happened. There is definitely a reason for Hal's earplugs. I never got to ask him. Carol in reception was another doll. Gave me great directions to the hair place. When I was there, I found out that in Natchez, it is the beauty shop. Monmouth, by the way, was named by a guy from Monmouth, New Jersey. He was poor. When he moved to Natchez he became the postmaster. I'm not sure how you build a plantation on government pay, but there you have it. The last two of the family girls thought the house was old and uncool so they shut the doors one day and just walked away. It was vacant for forty years. They had to use things like giant braces headgear to straighten out the bricks. It was kind of like the rack, too. They make one or two turns of the things every night, pulling the bricks out of their sockets.The wall paper is the same Jackie O put in the white house. Monmouth had it first, obviously, as the mansion was built in 1810. I saw a quote at the Dunleith bar the other day: I want to live my life, not document it. That was said by same Jackie O. I'm in trouble now! I met Jim from California on the way out. He has gone from there to Natchez by motorcycle before. He said there are a lot of woodies in California and he should buy one. He has a '71 pickup. He is smart and looks like an older, tanner Jackie Chan with salt and pepper hair. Very sexy.Went to beauty shop. Was an hour early. I have never changed my watch off Eastern Time because I am always late, and I don't want to be an hour late when I get back to my normal time. So I walked around town. Checked out the Eola Hotel. The lobby isn't really that great. Checked out Grand Hotel. Very glad I didn't stay there. Seven school buses and 2 gigantic tour buses in parking lot. Teenage girls from Jackson, Mississippi play chicken with you when you are going one way and they are three abreast going the other way. In spite of my detestation of mean girls, they won. Walked by Bowie's Tavern. This is the other beastly restaurant owned by the Dunleith people. There was a store attached (don't those ghastly people quit opening stuff?). It is called Bowie's Outfitters and has lots of fishing gear, as well as cartridges stacked by the window. Sign at door: No loaded firearms, please. There is also a bar with a shamrock in its name that advertises shots special, open at 2 p.m.
There are some very weird stores in downtown Natchez. The antiques stores have real crap next to priceless stuff. Here's some expensive stuff covered in dust that appears to be coming from termites in the ceiling.
Hold everything! This is a window full of rubber duckies! I have never seen such a thing. Susie (or Suzie, I don't know) has very, very long hair which is in transition. She is also wearing a "...when hell freezes over" shirt for The Saints. The lady who cut her bangs botched the job, and Susie (or Suzie) said her new hairdresser says the top looks like a toupee. She is letting it grow out. I asked her what her best seller is. Ducks. They're cheap, everybody can fit them in their suitcases, they don't break, and they get them for people they have to get something for but forgot to until the last day. She cannot keep enough in stock. These are Susie's (or is it Suzie's) beany babies. There are ducks for every occupation. I am particularly fond of the ones with teeth, for dentists. There is also a dead duck (grey). 70's ducks with peace signs on them. Birthday ducks. Extreme sports ducks. Chinese ducks. Ninja ducks. Turtle ducks (!?!). An entire duck nativity (sold only as a set). They are $1.35 each.
Susie (or Suzie) stocks some weird shit in her place. Toilet paper, tampons, used books, sodas, pralines, Japanese erasers. It's not a funky kind of weird. It's just weird. I asked her for directions. She told me to go to where the stop sign used to be. They may have taken it down when they smoothed out the bump. Teenagers would skateboard over it and four of them got hit by a car. Two were paralyzed, one from the waist down and one from the neck down. The neck down one was in the back seat. Both of them had full college scholarships for football. Natchez teenagers do the darndest stuff. They try to swim across the Mississippi (! says Susie (or Suzie)). Of course they don't make it. Now, Susie (or Suzie) used to get drunk with all her friends on the other side, but that was different. She fell asleep in her car, didn't pass out mind you, and bashed her forehead in. The steering wheel was bent like a U. The 8-track player (she must be my age) flew from the back seat clear into the windshield. She had just dropped her sister off at her boyfriend's. Well, you can imagine. We were chatting quite a bit, but I needed to get to my hair appointment. Luckily, Miss Patty from next door came to get a Coke. I bought a set of 12 old children's books, published in 1971 from the original 1930s version. The contents are very diverse. Susie (or Suzie) had put them in a box for me. She was a bit hesitant to do that because it was a Bud box and she didn't think I would be okay with that. It had those push in handle spots which was a good thing, as I got turned around and walked about 12 blocks with those heavy books.
Back at the beauty shop. Even though I had my formula written down, we had a bit of miscommunication and my hair is a weird shade of taupe. I think it will lighten, but I'm already thinking down the road to find someone to fix it. My curls are very loose, and I think Tiffiany did it this way on purpose because the humidity is so high that they fall out anyhow. I met Tiffeny at Opryland!, and now Tiffiany in Natchez. Neither one of them is spelled like the good jewelry, although Tiffany's has certainly gone downhill since they started making silver, especially those hearts with Return to Tiffany's on them. Tiffiany said she was mad at her mother because she could never get those key chains or mini-license plates at the gift shops and toy stores. Tiffiany can do no wrong in my eyes, though. Her favorite show is Toddlers & Tiaras! We dished about the icky looking lady with the drug-pushing husband disguised as a dentist. Not that she has anything against trailers, as she lived in one for a short time growing up, but those mothers in trailers spend over $20,000 a year on pageants. Tiffiany has never seen Dexter, and hates NCIS because it's scary. She can't be by herself if she happens to watch it.
In the color room, I met a young lady in her second year of pre-nursing. She is going to be a nurse anesthetist, a specialty I wholeheartedly encourage. It's great money and you set your own hours. Plus you don't have to empty bedpans or deal with Mrs. MacGillicutty in bed 3A when she needs her afternoon soap operas on and she can't reach the remote control and when she does she can't figure out how to work it. She has the most beautiful hair I have ever seen. Her mother said thank you. I did a double take. She has the looooongest legs. I asked her if I could ask her a personal question. Yes. How tall are you? 5'2". You mean 5'10"? No 5'2". That girl has to have the shortest torso in the country. She is so pretty it breaks your heart. No guy now. In Delta Gamma. Lives off campus so she can have fun. They have to share a room between four girls in the sorority and she is just not going to sleep in bunk beds any more. They still have candlelight ceremony where if a girl is lavaliered, pinned or engaged, she secretly asks the sorority president to have a circle. They pass a lighted candle around and you blow it out if it's you. Once around for lavaliered, twice around for pinned, and three times around for engaged. The tension mounts as it keeps on going around and around. Lavaliered means your boyfriend gives you his fraternity letters on a little necklace. Pinned is when he gives you his fraternity pin. My boyfriend bought one with lots of bling to give to me. They only get one, so you have to give it back if you break up. Engagement is, well, engagement. This entails a diamond ring. If it's his grandmother's you have a right to hate it, but you never tell his mother. When you're grown up and he's making a lot of money, he'll buy you the really big one you wanted in the first place.
At the shampoo bowl, the lady next to me was frantically asking for a travel-size hairspray of a particular brand. She borrowed her aunt's, used it up, and now her aunt is going nuts. They are not speaking. The women in question are well over 60. The hairdressers always use the ones that they keep in the car when they use up the full size ones at home and forget to get new ones. They only make travel-size ones at certain times of the year and they forgot to order more. I completely forgot to take Tiffiany's picture. And she was very pretty. There was not one hairdresser there with experimental hair. Very impressive.
At Longwood yesterday, I asked Gay whether I should go on the Natchez Trace because I completely missed it for the last 500 miles. She said to just go up about 15 miles where there is a historic inn, then come back. It all looks the same from there on up. The Natchez Trace goes from someplace in eastern Tennessee to, where else?, Natchez. It is a National Park. I saw a roadside information exhibit on the origin of the Trace. Apparently, stuff was floated down the Mississippi and then the boatmen would walk clear back up the river to float more stuff down. This is the road. I also read some informative stuff about loess which is the big silt/soil layer that is nearly 20 feet deep in parts of Mississippi! This is why it is easy to grow cotton. I had asked Tiffiany if all Natchez money comes from cotton. That, she said, and oil. Huh? I then passed Emerald Mound which is a Native American sacred place. You may not play ball or fly kites there. Finally, I got to the inn. I forgot the name of it, but it apparently is the first stop on the walk back from Natchez. It seemed to be about 25 miles from town. There were 50 inns, but this is the only one left. As I passed the station, the ranger caught me an force-fed me a brochure. I asked about Emerald Mound, and he gave me one of those too. I think they are evaluated by how many brochures they give out. I asked him if I could take a picture. He quick had to change his official baseball cap to his official Smokey the Bear hat. He could get in big trouble if he didn't wear that hat in photos. Ranger Eric Chamberlain even had to confiscate some guy's something. I went up the hill to the inn. There was a volunteer in a Brownie Scout vest who could answer my questions. She did the whole spiel. I was very attentive. Linda isn't from here. She is from an hour and a half north of here. You come all the way down here to volunteer? Well, my husband has retired from the park service. We wanted to see if we like it here. We bought an RV because we were going to see the country. We thought why not start here. WE can park our RV over there, and they pay our water and electricity, fill up our butane, and we can use the washer and dryer. The campground next to the park charges $425 a month. In three weeks they are going to Decatur, Alabama. I asked if I should see the slave graveyard. There isn't anything there.
As recommended, I went to the family graveyard. There was practically nothing there either. Everyone buried there is from the family except one. He was a guest in 1825 and died on the spot. It was very nice of them to bury him. I was walking on the Old Field Path. I don't see very well, so it looked like Oil Field Path. Aha! Nathezians (whatever) have old money, not oil money. From another information sign I learned that the inn built quarters for the "growing labor force," i.e., slaves. I also learned that riving is making shakes (for roofs, not to drink). By the way, the guest quarters were called Sleepy Hollow. I thought that was in New York with the headless horseman and all. I wonder if Monmouth and Sleepy Hollow in Mississippi were named after the New Jersey and New York places or vice versa. On the way out, saw Ranger Eric's ATV in park ranger green. It looks like a Kawasaki motorcycle, seat, chrome exhaust and all, with four big wheels. Gotta get your jollies somehow I guess. Saw my first Spanish moss and first mosquito of the trip. Also first daffodil. This is Woody in the woods.
Changed my pants at the loess sign. Hoped no one would come by. Two cars did, fortunately after I was dressed. Silver sports car stopped behind me. Followed me when I left. This was the opposite direction than the one he was going before. Let my breath out when he passed me. Also saw same red SUV parked on the side of the road that was there when I was going the other way. There are only two reasons men park by the side of the road. One is peeing. This was the Nature Area. He must have been hunting.
By this time, I was very hungry, having not eaten breakfast since Monmouth this morning. Apparently a two egg breakfast (with grits, bacon, sausage and biscuits) is a full southern breakfast. Monmouth also had grape jelly. Must be a regional thing. I had gotten a good BBQ recommendation for Tiffiany for a place on a street I couldn't pronounce. I couldn't pronounce it because I never could understand her. It is below the bridge. I could not find the bridge. I could see it because it is quite large. I went at it from a bunch of different ways and just could not get there. Literally a half tank of gas. Never did find it although I did learn that the street name was Sargent Prentiss. I ate at the Pig Out Inn, quite obviously for tourists due to its proximity to the visitors center and Big Mama's Tamales. The cue was pretty good, though. Sides did not include turnip greens or green beans or even mac n cheese. Baked beans, yes. Potato salad, yes. Cole slaw, yes. Pasta salad? Definitely a tourist place. This is Carl. He chops the pork extraordinarily quickly. Ten years and he still hasn't cut off a finger. This is Courtney. She says they do a lot of business, especially from the Convention Center. Friday night is usually take out.
Went over the bridge (found it this time as I asked Courtney for directions). Did not look for BBQ place because I would be sorry I ate ate Pig Out Inn. Came to Louisiana. Went to visitors center where I met Zelma. Helpful from Z to A, as she put it. These guys are always happy to see me because I actually want information. Zelma gave me a lot. I now know that the River Road on the Louisiana side has lots of plantations, too. And these aren't in the city. Take that, Natchez. I have a much better plan for tomorrow. I will go toward Baton Rouge, and maybe a bit further. Then I can make the Metarie Library on Sunday for the king cake extravaganza. Perhaps go to New Orleans. Checked all the hotels and B&Bs in NO. Most have bad reviews, are ridiculously expensive, or are clean out of town. The latter is looking better and better. Like New Iberia, maybe. There are shotgun shacks you can stay in further toward Cajun country. I am a shack kind of girl, so this may be just the ticket. Meanwhile, I must get to Mammy's Cupboard at exactly 11 a.m. This is on the Mississippi side, but it's okay because the river road goes back and forth and at that point I'm in the right direction anyhow. Mammy's is in the skirt part of Aunt Jemima. They are only open 11-2, and you have to order your dessert the minute you sit down or they will be out. The banana carmel cake is great, says Tiffiany and pretty-haired nursing student. So is the hummingbird cake. Is that shaped like a very small bird or is it food for the very small bird or (horrors) is it made from hummingbirds? No. It's like a spice cake. I think I'll have both. I heard from someone else that they are famous for their chicken salad. I'll have that too. I didn't have dinner, as I had already eaten the rest of the Tennessee Toffee for dinner in Vicksburg. But wait! I have 19 boxes of girl scout cookies in the car. Had half a box (okay the whole box) of peanut butter patties with my Diet Dr. Pepper at 10:30 pm.
Got gas. Cannot find real gas. Woody hates ethanol. Note to self: look up realgas.com that someone told me about. Across the road, a store was Buying Pecans. Also Selling Pecans.
At the recommendation of Zelma, and of Gay from yesterday, I decided to stay in the Comfort Inn and Suites in Vidalia, Louisiana. This is not the same as Vidalia, George where they grow the onions. I must ask for the walk-in rate, they told me about over in the visitors center. I have been looking a hotel brochures. You can get a much better rate the same day, not like airlines where you pay more if you decide to go someplace in a hurry. My wandering is paying off. I said Hi to the next girl in line. She said Hey. I forgot. Down here, they don't say Hi. They say Hey, pronounced hay-ay.
I never stay at Comfort Inns. This one has a patio and looks across the river to Natchez. You can't hardly see the river from Natchez itself. Catherine said they didn't use the term walk-in rate but she gave me a discount. I have a river view room and a sofa (as well as the normal bedroom stuff). This place has a giant chandelier (!) in the foyer. I told the girls at reception that this must be one of the best Comfort Inns ever. They smiled and said wait and turned on the chandelier. I needed a Coke. Finally found machine at end of hallway behind the pool (!), gym (!) and business center (!). It is discretely hidden next to the washing machines (!). The machine itself is really cool. You put your money in, press the button, and a horizontal tray goes under your choice. It then lowers it to the exit hole. Your soda (or pop, as they say here, I think) hasn't been shaken! Open with impunity. Gotta love a region that has Diet Dr. Pepper in the pop machines. Walked back to elevator past business center. Locals (non-guests) using the Internet. One guy playing computer games. Back upstairs, I saw a very, very long flotilla of barges. I wonder whether the guys driving the tugs have to walk back upstream. I can also see Natchez under the hill which I did not see from Natchez. There used to be pirates and stuff down there.
Between the visitors center and the Comfort Inn and Suites is the convention center. A white letter on black felt board listed rooms and their events. 112 Surprise Birthday for (I don't remember). Not much of a surprise anymore. But check this out! Two gigantic red tractor with balloons on them are in front of the convention center. Must be a farm machinery convention. I am psyched. You know how much I love farm equipment. Almost as much as scissors, and that's saying a lot. As I took lots of pictures, a guy with a Case polo shirt (also red and white with tasteful black accents) came up and said that they had the biggest one ever built over on the other side of the levee. It's the 535, I think. I was compelled to find the 535. Ta-da. One mother fucker of a tractor.
Susie (or Suzie) stocks some weird shit in her place. Toilet paper, tampons, used books, sodas, pralines, Japanese erasers. It's not a funky kind of weird. It's just weird. I asked her for directions. She told me to go to where the stop sign used to be. They may have taken it down when they smoothed out the bump. Teenagers would skateboard over it and four of them got hit by a car. Two were paralyzed, one from the waist down and one from the neck down. The neck down one was in the back seat. Both of them had full college scholarships for football. Natchez teenagers do the darndest stuff. They try to swim across the Mississippi (! says Susie (or Suzie)). Of course they don't make it. Now, Susie (or Suzie) used to get drunk with all her friends on the other side, but that was different. She fell asleep in her car, didn't pass out mind you, and bashed her forehead in. The steering wheel was bent like a U. The 8-track player (she must be my age) flew from the back seat clear into the windshield. She had just dropped her sister off at her boyfriend's. Well, you can imagine. We were chatting quite a bit, but I needed to get to my hair appointment. Luckily, Miss Patty from next door came to get a Coke. I bought a set of 12 old children's books, published in 1971 from the original 1930s version. The contents are very diverse. Susie (or Suzie) had put them in a box for me. She was a bit hesitant to do that because it was a Bud box and she didn't think I would be okay with that. It had those push in handle spots which was a good thing, as I got turned around and walked about 12 blocks with those heavy books.Back at the beauty shop. Even though I had my formula written down, we had a bit of miscommunication and my hair is a weird shade of taupe. I think it will lighten, but I'm already thinking down the road to find someone to fix it. My curls are very loose, and I think Tiffiany did it this way on purpose because the humidity is so high that they fall out anyhow. I met Tiffeny at Opryland!, and now Tiffiany in Natchez. Neither one of them is spelled like the good jewelry, although Tiffany's has certainly gone downhill since they started making silver, especially those hearts with Return to Tiffany's on them. Tiffiany said she was mad at her mother because she could never get those key chains or mini-license plates at the gift shops and toy stores. Tiffiany can do no wrong in my eyes, though. Her favorite show is Toddlers & Tiaras! We dished about the icky looking lady with the drug-pushing husband disguised as a dentist. Not that she has anything against trailers, as she lived in one for a short time growing up, but those mothers in trailers spend over $20,000 a year on pageants. Tiffiany has never seen Dexter, and hates NCIS because it's scary. She can't be by herself if she happens to watch it.
In the color room, I met a young lady in her second year of pre-nursing. She is going to be a nurse anesthetist, a specialty I wholeheartedly encourage. It's great money and you set your own hours. Plus you don't have to empty bedpans or deal with Mrs. MacGillicutty in bed 3A when she needs her afternoon soap operas on and she can't reach the remote control and when she does she can't figure out how to work it. She has the most beautiful hair I have ever seen. Her mother said thank you. I did a double take. She has the looooongest legs. I asked her if I could ask her a personal question. Yes. How tall are you? 5'2". You mean 5'10"? No 5'2". That girl has to have the shortest torso in the country. She is so pretty it breaks your heart. No guy now. In Delta Gamma. Lives off campus so she can have fun. They have to share a room between four girls in the sorority and she is just not going to sleep in bunk beds any more. They still have candlelight ceremony where if a girl is lavaliered, pinned or engaged, she secretly asks the sorority president to have a circle. They pass a lighted candle around and you blow it out if it's you. Once around for lavaliered, twice around for pinned, and three times around for engaged. The tension mounts as it keeps on going around and around. Lavaliered means your boyfriend gives you his fraternity letters on a little necklace. Pinned is when he gives you his fraternity pin. My boyfriend bought one with lots of bling to give to me. They only get one, so you have to give it back if you break up. Engagement is, well, engagement. This entails a diamond ring. If it's his grandmother's you have a right to hate it, but you never tell his mother. When you're grown up and he's making a lot of money, he'll buy you the really big one you wanted in the first place.
At the shampoo bowl, the lady next to me was frantically asking for a travel-size hairspray of a particular brand. She borrowed her aunt's, used it up, and now her aunt is going nuts. They are not speaking. The women in question are well over 60. The hairdressers always use the ones that they keep in the car when they use up the full size ones at home and forget to get new ones. They only make travel-size ones at certain times of the year and they forgot to order more. I completely forgot to take Tiffiany's picture. And she was very pretty. There was not one hairdresser there with experimental hair. Very impressive.
At Longwood yesterday, I asked Gay whether I should go on the Natchez Trace because I completely missed it for the last 500 miles. She said to just go up about 15 miles where there is a historic inn, then come back. It all looks the same from there on up. The Natchez Trace goes from someplace in eastern Tennessee to, where else?, Natchez. It is a National Park. I saw a roadside information exhibit on the origin of the Trace. Apparently, stuff was floated down the Mississippi and then the boatmen would walk clear back up the river to float more stuff down. This is the road. I also read some informative stuff about loess which is the big silt/soil layer that is nearly 20 feet deep in parts of Mississippi! This is why it is easy to grow cotton. I had asked Tiffiany if all Natchez money comes from cotton. That, she said, and oil. Huh? I then passed Emerald Mound which is a Native American sacred place. You may not play ball or fly kites there. Finally, I got to the inn. I forgot the name of it, but it apparently is the first stop on the walk back from Natchez. It seemed to be about 25 miles from town. There were 50 inns, but this is the only one left. As I passed the station, the ranger caught me an force-fed me a brochure. I asked about Emerald Mound, and he gave me one of those too. I think they are evaluated by how many brochures they give out. I asked him if I could take a picture. He quick had to change his official baseball cap to his official Smokey the Bear hat. He could get in big trouble if he didn't wear that hat in photos. Ranger Eric Chamberlain even had to confiscate some guy's something. I went up the hill to the inn. There was a volunteer in a Brownie Scout vest who could answer my questions. She did the whole spiel. I was very attentive. Linda isn't from here. She is from an hour and a half north of here. You come all the way down here to volunteer? Well, my husband has retired from the park service. We wanted to see if we like it here. We bought an RV because we were going to see the country. We thought why not start here. WE can park our RV over there, and they pay our water and electricity, fill up our butane, and we can use the washer and dryer. The campground next to the park charges $425 a month. In three weeks they are going to Decatur, Alabama. I asked if I should see the slave graveyard. There isn't anything there.
As recommended, I went to the family graveyard. There was practically nothing there either. Everyone buried there is from the family except one. He was a guest in 1825 and died on the spot. It was very nice of them to bury him. I was walking on the Old Field Path. I don't see very well, so it looked like Oil Field Path. Aha! Nathezians (whatever) have old money, not oil money. From another information sign I learned that the inn built quarters for the "growing labor force," i.e., slaves. I also learned that riving is making shakes (for roofs, not to drink). By the way, the guest quarters were called Sleepy Hollow. I thought that was in New York with the headless horseman and all. I wonder if Monmouth and Sleepy Hollow in Mississippi were named after the New Jersey and New York places or vice versa. On the way out, saw Ranger Eric's ATV in park ranger green. It looks like a Kawasaki motorcycle, seat, chrome exhaust and all, with four big wheels. Gotta get your jollies somehow I guess. Saw my first Spanish moss and first mosquito of the trip. Also first daffodil. This is Woody in the woods.
Changed my pants at the loess sign. Hoped no one would come by. Two cars did, fortunately after I was dressed. Silver sports car stopped behind me. Followed me when I left. This was the opposite direction than the one he was going before. Let my breath out when he passed me. Also saw same red SUV parked on the side of the road that was there when I was going the other way. There are only two reasons men park by the side of the road. One is peeing. This was the Nature Area. He must have been hunting.
By this time, I was very hungry, having not eaten breakfast since Monmouth this morning. Apparently a two egg breakfast (with grits, bacon, sausage and biscuits) is a full southern breakfast. Monmouth also had grape jelly. Must be a regional thing. I had gotten a good BBQ recommendation for Tiffiany for a place on a street I couldn't pronounce. I couldn't pronounce it because I never could understand her. It is below the bridge. I could not find the bridge. I could see it because it is quite large. I went at it from a bunch of different ways and just could not get there. Literally a half tank of gas. Never did find it although I did learn that the street name was Sargent Prentiss. I ate at the Pig Out Inn, quite obviously for tourists due to its proximity to the visitors center and Big Mama's Tamales. The cue was pretty good, though. Sides did not include turnip greens or green beans or even mac n cheese. Baked beans, yes. Potato salad, yes. Cole slaw, yes. Pasta salad? Definitely a tourist place. This is Carl. He chops the pork extraordinarily quickly. Ten years and he still hasn't cut off a finger. This is Courtney. She says they do a lot of business, especially from the Convention Center. Friday night is usually take out.
Went over the bridge (found it this time as I asked Courtney for directions). Did not look for BBQ place because I would be sorry I ate ate Pig Out Inn. Came to Louisiana. Went to visitors center where I met Zelma. Helpful from Z to A, as she put it. These guys are always happy to see me because I actually want information. Zelma gave me a lot. I now know that the River Road on the Louisiana side has lots of plantations, too. And these aren't in the city. Take that, Natchez. I have a much better plan for tomorrow. I will go toward Baton Rouge, and maybe a bit further. Then I can make the Metarie Library on Sunday for the king cake extravaganza. Perhaps go to New Orleans. Checked all the hotels and B&Bs in NO. Most have bad reviews, are ridiculously expensive, or are clean out of town. The latter is looking better and better. Like New Iberia, maybe. There are shotgun shacks you can stay in further toward Cajun country. I am a shack kind of girl, so this may be just the ticket. Meanwhile, I must get to Mammy's Cupboard at exactly 11 a.m. This is on the Mississippi side, but it's okay because the river road goes back and forth and at that point I'm in the right direction anyhow. Mammy's is in the skirt part of Aunt Jemima. They are only open 11-2, and you have to order your dessert the minute you sit down or they will be out. The banana carmel cake is great, says Tiffiany and pretty-haired nursing student. So is the hummingbird cake. Is that shaped like a very small bird or is it food for the very small bird or (horrors) is it made from hummingbirds? No. It's like a spice cake. I think I'll have both. I heard from someone else that they are famous for their chicken salad. I'll have that too. I didn't have dinner, as I had already eaten the rest of the Tennessee Toffee for dinner in Vicksburg. But wait! I have 19 boxes of girl scout cookies in the car. Had half a box (okay the whole box) of peanut butter patties with my Diet Dr. Pepper at 10:30 pm.
Got gas. Cannot find real gas. Woody hates ethanol. Note to self: look up realgas.com that someone told me about. Across the road, a store was Buying Pecans. Also Selling Pecans.At the recommendation of Zelma, and of Gay from yesterday, I decided to stay in the Comfort Inn and Suites in Vidalia, Louisiana. This is not the same as Vidalia, George where they grow the onions. I must ask for the walk-in rate, they told me about over in the visitors center. I have been looking a hotel brochures. You can get a much better rate the same day, not like airlines where you pay more if you decide to go someplace in a hurry. My wandering is paying off. I said Hi to the next girl in line. She said Hey. I forgot. Down here, they don't say Hi. They say Hey, pronounced hay-ay.
I never stay at Comfort Inns. This one has a patio and looks across the river to Natchez. You can't hardly see the river from Natchez itself. Catherine said they didn't use the term walk-in rate but she gave me a discount. I have a river view room and a sofa (as well as the normal bedroom stuff). This place has a giant chandelier (!) in the foyer. I told the girls at reception that this must be one of the best Comfort Inns ever. They smiled and said wait and turned on the chandelier. I needed a Coke. Finally found machine at end of hallway behind the pool (!), gym (!) and business center (!). It is discretely hidden next to the washing machines (!). The machine itself is really cool. You put your money in, press the button, and a horizontal tray goes under your choice. It then lowers it to the exit hole. Your soda (or pop, as they say here, I think) hasn't been shaken! Open with impunity. Gotta love a region that has Diet Dr. Pepper in the pop machines. Walked back to elevator past business center. Locals (non-guests) using the Internet. One guy playing computer games. Back upstairs, I saw a very, very long flotilla of barges. I wonder whether the guys driving the tugs have to walk back upstream. I can also see Natchez under the hill which I did not see from Natchez. There used to be pirates and stuff down there.
Between the visitors center and the Comfort Inn and Suites is the convention center. A white letter on black felt board listed rooms and their events. 112 Surprise Birthday for (I don't remember). Not much of a surprise anymore. But check this out! Two gigantic red tractor with balloons on them are in front of the convention center. Must be a farm machinery convention. I am psyched. You know how much I love farm equipment. Almost as much as scissors, and that's saying a lot. As I took lots of pictures, a guy with a Case polo shirt (also red and white with tasteful black accents) came up and said that they had the biggest one ever built over on the other side of the levee. It's the 535, I think. I was compelled to find the 535. Ta-da. One mother fucker of a tractor.
