Field Notes-
Not Half Bad On A Good Day...
Coordinates 31°38′06″N 93°38′33″W
It was an unusual warm morning for February as I turned off the state highway that fronts Toledo Bend Lake. The narrow road leads me around the saw mill and up to the train crossing just as the arms stop the traffic and signals a coming train. A long train, about one hundred and ten cars long as it makes its slow journey through the small rural town of Zwolle.
Not much left of the town. Family Dollar to my right, Burger Barn and a package liquor store on the left. I can see Market Basket in my rear view mirror. A large fish statue marks the way to fishing country. It adorns the corner of the old train depot and town hall. Dream catcher is the official name
of this beauty...
Zwolle, home to about five hundred households and famous in these parts for the Tamale festival, the Mud Bog run on Good Friday along with the Timber and Forest gathering.
Now I pass through this way for their tamales. There is a blinking red light at an intersection just past the cemetery. "Take a right at the blinking red light at the cemetery, go past L & M's and we are down there on the right. You will see our sign, C & J." Seems L & M is a close relative and a close competitor in the fine art of tamale making. Ms. Juanita claims they don't wash their hands before cooking, giving me a wink and a smile. I grin every time she tells me that story, which is frequent, since I can't pass up the question of quality made tamales at L & M. Picked up about eighteen dozen-dozen this trip. That's right, eighteen dozen would not be enough.
Ms. Juanita cooks about three hundred dozen each Wednesday and the smell coming from the small stove in the corner is worth the trip. I like the way she packs tamales. Twelve tamales wrapped in tin foil, the tin foil wrapped in print from the Sabine Index and packed in a brown paper bag. Holds in the heat and the smell of stemmed masa and pork, just enough to keep me from eating a dozen before I get back to the blinking light.
As I head out of town with my goods in tow, I pass this ole run down and vacant house of the famous Marshal Brandon. The Marshall who tamed Zwolle. A once stately southern style home, left now only with memories of its charm. Now just pass the Brandon home I saw two large bushes of azalea. Passed them up but had to turn around, go back and admire their beauty. Seems to be a little early for such full blooms, but worthy of a second glance.
I make my way past the local Mexican food shack, the Manor nursing home on the right and Killpatricks Mortuary on the left. All seemed to be doing a brisk business. What really caught my attention was the local radio station I tuned into some miles back. Moon Gifton was the host. Now Moon was posing the question to his audience about school children cleaning their own schools. He referenced some source that claimed this was the standard practice in Japan. Cost cutting and character building program. This brought one caller after another espousing "yes", great idea and how they all had such disciplined children at home doing their part. I think they finally agreed that hiring someone to clean the bathroom might be in order...seems they do not want their child to deal with the stinky parts of life.
I remember dusting the erasers at school. This chore usually took place about fifteen minutes before the final bell, so you always felt you were getting out of class early and you were the teachers favorite. Usually ended in an eraser fight with chalk marks on our face and cloths. Breathed in a lot of that chalk dust doing my part. Guess the janitor refused to dust the erasers, but the floors were always clean. We had these air raid drills about once a month. We were afraid the Russians were going to drop a nuke on us, so we practiced hiding under our desk. Made a lot of sense at the time. Just scare the shit out of the kids. They need to be prepared for the end times. The good news...never once, while we were huddled near the floor did anyone complain about dirty floors.
After a brief commercial about a Cridder Ridder product, Moon's interest was no longer on tough love of our children, but if this Cridder Ridder product would work on snakes. Seems Moon was weed eating around his mail box over the weekend and came across a Copperhead snake. He told his wife, but made the mistake and informed her that it was at the mailbox. So now he was making the daily walk out to retrieve the mail. Many of his callers even questioned its power to ward off lawyers...never got the real answer, as my reception on this a.m. station faded and the aroma of the tamales filled my car.
Not half bad on a good day...
Not Half Bad On A Good Day...
Coordinates 31°38′06″N 93°38′33″W
It was an unusual warm morning for February as I turned off the state highway that fronts Toledo Bend Lake. The narrow road leads me around the saw mill and up to the train crossing just as the arms stop the traffic and signals a coming train. A long train, about one hundred and ten cars long as it makes its slow journey through the small rural town of Zwolle.
Not much left of the town. Family Dollar to my right, Burger Barn and a package liquor store on the left. I can see Market Basket in my rear view mirror. A large fish statue marks the way to fishing country. It adorns the corner of the old train depot and town hall. Dream catcher is the official name
of this beauty...
Zwolle, home to about five hundred households and famous in these parts for the Tamale festival, the Mud Bog run on Good Friday along with the Timber and Forest gathering.
Ms. Juanita cooks about three hundred dozen each Wednesday and the smell coming from the small stove in the corner is worth the trip. I like the way she packs tamales. Twelve tamales wrapped in tin foil, the tin foil wrapped in print from the Sabine Index and packed in a brown paper bag. Holds in the heat and the smell of stemmed masa and pork, just enough to keep me from eating a dozen before I get back to the blinking light.
As I head out of town with my goods in tow, I pass this ole run down and vacant house of the famous Marshal Brandon. The Marshall who tamed Zwolle. A once stately southern style home, left now only with memories of its charm. Now just pass the Brandon home I saw two large bushes of azalea. Passed them up but had to turn around, go back and admire their beauty. Seems to be a little early for such full blooms, but worthy of a second glance.
I make my way past the local Mexican food shack, the Manor nursing home on the right and Killpatricks Mortuary on the left. All seemed to be doing a brisk business. What really caught my attention was the local radio station I tuned into some miles back. Moon Gifton was the host. Now Moon was posing the question to his audience about school children cleaning their own schools. He referenced some source that claimed this was the standard practice in Japan. Cost cutting and character building program. This brought one caller after another espousing "yes", great idea and how they all had such disciplined children at home doing their part. I think they finally agreed that hiring someone to clean the bathroom might be in order...seems they do not want their child to deal with the stinky parts of life.
I remember dusting the erasers at school. This chore usually took place about fifteen minutes before the final bell, so you always felt you were getting out of class early and you were the teachers favorite. Usually ended in an eraser fight with chalk marks on our face and cloths. Breathed in a lot of that chalk dust doing my part. Guess the janitor refused to dust the erasers, but the floors were always clean. We had these air raid drills about once a month. We were afraid the Russians were going to drop a nuke on us, so we practiced hiding under our desk. Made a lot of sense at the time. Just scare the shit out of the kids. They need to be prepared for the end times. The good news...never once, while we were huddled near the floor did anyone complain about dirty floors.
After a brief commercial about a Cridder Ridder product, Moon's interest was no longer on tough love of our children, but if this Cridder Ridder product would work on snakes. Seems Moon was weed eating around his mail box over the weekend and came across a Copperhead snake. He told his wife, but made the mistake and informed her that it was at the mailbox. So now he was making the daily walk out to retrieve the mail. Many of his callers even questioned its power to ward off lawyers...never got the real answer, as my reception on this a.m. station faded and the aroma of the tamales filled my car.
Not half bad on a good day...
