i didn't let the dreary weather yesterday keep me inside. I started the day at a national historic site -- another stamp in my national parks passport -- call Melrose. It was a former plantation, so I could tour the inside of the house and the grounds, including the former slave quarters.
i got see how cotton grows. Today at Longwood, I learned that Haller Nutt, the owner of that plantation, traveled to India and smuggled cotton seed back to Mississippi and crossed whit with Egyptian cotton to get the best of both qualities -- whiteness and long strands. Variations of this hybrid are still used today.
The rest of the day I spent walking around town and shopping. The friendly owners of an antique store wanted to give me a mimosa. I decline because I said my next stop was in search of lunch. At which point the older gentleman offered me a chicken salad sandwich, insisting the that the chicken salad from Natchez market was the best. The small chain has just been bought by a larger one and he hopes the food will not change because its such a nice little market.
Then he wanted to engage me in politics about a couple of the representatives from Minnesota. I'm sure he wanted to dis Omar, but I didn't want to ruin our camaraderie, so I demurred. He mentioned that they had just gotten the internet and were having trouble using it. But he did get Fox news but no local news. Then he was distracted by another customer. I did find something there and I had a pleasant good by. On my way out, he said, I just love her. " Southern hospitality!
Sadly, I found the stores while nice, filled with lots of chatychkes and clothes made off shore. Nothing really Natchez local except the whisky pralines and the bourbons recommended to me at the liquor store. The owner of which has his MBA and was from New Jersey. He left corporate for an upscale liquor store.
After Buddha and I had a walk down the bluff to the the river, I decided to check out the local brewery. I got a flight of four beers, which were nice but nothing really outstanding. I chose to sit outside despite the cool and dreary weather -- I am a hearty Minnesotan after all -- and the local stray who lives at the brewery decided my lap was his preferred spot.
If I didn't already have two cats at home and Buddha traveling with me, I would have brought him home. He was such a love.
On my way back to my car which was parked across the street from a church with a very unusual architecture, I snapped a few photos and went inside. I love that Catholic churches are open, and what a treat it was. I don't think I've seen a church this beautiful outside of Europe. Ornate but not over done, and amazing stained glass.
I came back to my BnB for a little refresh and to write this blog entry, but the owner and her daughter had other plans. They were hosting group one of their ghost tours for the evening, so I stayed in my room to read.
Yes, I found out AFTER I got here, that this house is supposedly riddled with ghosts.
The question of dinner was three choices. I drove by Dunleith because the owner of the BnB said they were having some open house and lights. I turned away when there were two cop cars there directing pedestrians and parking not easy. Next try was Pig Out. It is super cute with inflated pigs "flying," however Margery has warned me that they over smoke their BBQ. But, there was a parking space just for me.
Sure enough, I walked in and was overwhelmed with smoke. The line was not moving well; the people in front of me were dreadfully indecisive. I became decisive and decided to go to Moos which was much closer to home and not known for over smoking their BBQ. Since they are across the highway form old Natchez, its more of a local spot and not as crowded during this weekend of ghost tours.
I was going to get the two meat plate because i had yet to try brisket and my friend Sue Thomas told me I was being remiss. At the Pig Out they said they were out for 20 minutes, but at Moos, they were totally out. Someone had ordered eight pounds. Alas, I had the pork with sides of deviled eggs and sweet potato casserole. It was all yummy, but I was not expecting the eggs to be sweet.
I had signed up for the 8:30 p.m. ghost tour of the house and there was about eight other people there. Most of them a group of nurses who were together and from LaFayette. Valerie, the owner's daughter, and her mother Margery had plenty of stories. Of course, the house has been in their family for seven generations and they also knew some of the previous history. Several children died in the house who are said to be mischievous and do things like tickle the feet of guests in the middle of the night. A servant woman appears to others.
I usually have a sense of such things, but I have felt nothing in the house. My friend Terry can tell you about the time we went to Hilton Head and I slept on the couch after waking up twice in the night with something heavy on my chest. Some of the guest captured blue orbs in their photos, but my research seems to indicate they are not necessarily signs of paranormal activity. I have not been bothered by any ghost now for two nights, so I guess they must like me. Let's hope I go three for three.
After the tour, 90 year old Margery held court in the porch room. A true Southern lady who could have held her own with Queen Elizabeth. She told stories of how the owner of the house was a fierce rebel and had to endure a Union encampment on the front lawn for the last three years of the war.
At the end of the war, the Yankees wanted to loot and burn the house, but he refused them entry and said he would blow their heads off if they attempted to come in. Instead, they shot up the house until a calvary unit arrived and confirmed that the house was to be saved. Passes were given out for homes to be spared destruction. That didn't stop the Yanee soldiers from stealing from the garden and taking the. youngest daughter's pony, which surely they ate. The 15 year old daughter kept a diary of the time which is in a museum in Baltimore where she eventually relocated and lived to the ripe age of 90. The family here has a transcription, which has been very insightful to learning more about the history of the home.
After the guest left, Valerie and I got to chatting. It turns our her youngest daughter is a songwriter going to school in Santa Monica. I said, as luck would have it, my oldest is an aspiring actor living in East Hollywood but working in Santa Monica. Both have suffered from depression and suicidal ideation. We exchanged info, and I talked to Diana today about contacting Valerie's daughter. Its' always a small world and I hope a positive connection can be made. As Valerie said, she always believes people come into her life for a reason.
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