Happy Mother’s Day

Today is Mother’s Day in America.

It’s not the same day as it is in the UK. Back when I first came over – I was dutiful about buying a Mother’s Day card in March (the British time) and sometimes I even remembered to actually send it to VolMom at the right time.

Anyway, Happy Mother’s Day Vol-Mom. Now, I’ll just blog a Happy Mother’s Day wish.

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Back in March, during the British Mother’s Day time – I asked the Vol-in-Law what he was going to get me on behalf of Cletus or in honor of the fact I was carrying his child.

He said “Well, why should I get you anything for Mother’s Day? You’re not a mother yet. Let’s see how you get on and maybe you’ll get something next year.”

The ViL’s not really good at gift giving – so I wasn’t really expecting anything. I’m certainly not expecting anything today – since he’s not even American. He did wish me a happy mother’s day, though.

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One of VolMom’s many talents is flower arranging. I’m not so good at that – and I don’t usually bother with cut flowers. But I saw these Sweet William and snap dragons today – going fairly cheap – so made up a bouquet.

So here’s a virtual bouquet for VolMom.

And if you get bored of my Mother’s Day thoughts – check out this list of women bloggers in Tennessee in honor of the day – or the Mother’s Day wishes to the mom bloggers of Nashville is Talking.

scattered pictures and double-eared corn

I’ve been going through some old photographs – don’t know why really – as I have many other things I should be doing. I’ve noticed there are lots of pictures from the beginning of our marriage – then hardly any. This is partly because my camera broke and I couldn’t afford to replace it with a camera I liked.

In the past couple of years I’ve been taking loads of pictures, but they’re all digital. I’ve been trying to make sure I put stuff from trips into photo books (I did our trip to France and Christmas visit to Tennessee) and annual retrospectives – like A Year in the Garden 2006 rather than just leave them in digital files. And I should probably get my blog printed up and bound into a book – just for posterity.

Anyway, it’s interesting looking back on our lives. And I’ve separated the photos into

• Please scan and make into a photo book
• Not very good, but can’t bear to throw away (the biggest pile)
• Throw away (this is the smallest pile)

I’ve noticed that we were a lot younger and thinner when we first got together. Some of us had more hair. We look quite happy.

I found some old letters, too and managed to avoid the temptation of actually reading them. Many of them are from my grandfather who died almost four years ago and who were planning to name the soon-to-arrive baby after. My grandfather used to send me pictures regularly, too. And clippings from The Tennessean or the Lawrence County Advocate or wherever that he thought might interest me.

For example, I found this snippet of Wilson County News –

The Neal family farm near Tuckers Crossroads is one of just three farms in the state chosen for an important experiment in improving forage for cattle and cutting the farm’s dependence on hay for feed, Agriculutral Extension Services Agent Jon Baker said. Baker added that if the proer kinds of grasses are developed for pastures, it will mean less work for the farmers and reduced costs for consumers. As Baker said “Cows are designed to eat forage, not grain.” – WARREN DUZAK.

taped to this picture:

On the back of the picture, it’s written in my grandfather’s scrawl

This is a picture of the water damage in our shop recently. Insurance has pd all damage but $500 which we are asking the roofers to pay.

I do not know if this in Lawrenceburg – where my grandfather rented antique selling space on the square or if it was in Nashville or Franklin – where over time he had also rented space.

I do not know why the story about experimental forage on the Neal family farm was attached to it. That may be an accident of proximity and tape and time.

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I do know why he sent me the snippet on agriculture. We are kin to the Neals. My great grandfather’s mother’s maiden name was Neal, his given name was Neal and he and his brother Ben were raised in the home of William Haskell Neal, his maternal uncle, after their father died.

Haskell Neal, as he was known, developed Neal’s Paymaster Corn (read more if you’re interested about his induction to the Wilson County Agricultural Hall of Fame). This was the first reliably double-eared open pollinated corn. Haskell developed it through selective breeding. My grandfather told me that his daddy remembered harvesting corn with his Uncle Haskell and that Haskell kept a special sack for double eared corn – which he would use for seed corn the following year.

Here’s what a Works Progress Administration 1939 survey of the State of Tennessee said about it:

Corn always has been the leading crop in value and volume. For more than 50 years the State has had a yearly average of three million acres in corn. In 1935 the crop amounted to more than 60 million bushels. One third of the corn grown is the high-yield variety known as Neal’s Paymaster. It is interesting to note that until 1904, when W. H. Neal of Lebanon developed this variety, most Tennessee farmers had been growing the same type of corn planted centuries before by the mound builders. The major part of the Tennessee crop is consumed in the region of its production.

I recently told somone about this, just kind of casually mentioned it – I’m not sure why but it was vaguely relevant. This person seemed distinctly unimpressed. But it was a really big deal. This effectively doubled yields in a time when many people went hungry.

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Events have conspired lately to make me think of Haskell Neal and his Paymaster Corn. I was listening to a radio show about pacifist farming communes in England during World War II and one of the former residents was talking about how they strove to improve yields – and how if they could only produce twice as much corn (this actually probably means wheat) from the same acreage what a difference that would make to the world. I thought of Haskell Neal. He did that.

And last night, I was watching a show about genetic modification and some foodie journalist was absolutely appalled by the selective breeding efforts of livestock farmers to produce some really big beef cattle – Belgian Blues. He seemed to think selective breeding was some kind of new fangled invention, somewhere along the lines of Frankenstein food. How freaking ignorant. How could someone who is supposed to write about food know so little about how food is produced? A biologist on the show pointed out that so long as we have had agriculture we’ve had selective breeding. I thought about my great-grandfather and Haskell Neal’s sack of double-eared seed corn.

Name it after me…nah, don’t

Apparently it’s been suggested that a stretch of US Highway 43 in Lawrenceburg be named after one of her native sons – Fred Thompson. Fred got wind of this and wrote to the relevant state assemblyman to thank him for the kind thought, but really to say no thanks.

Dear Joey,

I read where the naming of a segment of U.S. Highway 43 in Lawrenceburg after me is under consideration. I cannot blame anybody if there is hesitation to name another thing for another politician or former politician. But I must say that I am very appreciative of my friends in Lawrenceburg and Lawrence County who originally had this idea. The fact that they would want to do this is more important to me than the naming itself. My daddy’s car lot was on that stretch of road, so it’s special to me, but the fact is that I didn’t build it and I didn’t pay for it. The taxpayers did. So it is entirely appropriate that it remain U.S. Highway 43 the way I remember it when I was a boy. Therefore, I would request that you thank my friends and withdraw the naming bill.

I really appreciate your work on this and the great job you are doing for our people. All the best to you and your colleagues.

Sincerely.
Fred Thompson

There’s been much lauding of Fred for his humility. (Bob Krumm and Red State). But my mother’s family comes from this town, I went to high school there – and we’ve just called it U.S. Highway 43 as Fred says. I’m not sure this is an act of humility – and I’m not sure we should expect one from a professional actor and career politician. It’s just that it wouldn’t really be right to change the name. And especially after someone who, actually, doesn’t seem to have done much for the town. Sure, Fred Thompson has served at the state and national level and he’s helped put Lawrenceburg on the map. As far as I can tell, he didn’t even manage to throw much pork toward Lawrence County (and I know some folks think that’s a good thing…) But, and no offense, Fred left as soon as he reasonably could. I did, too. No shame in it.

But there are plenty of unsung town heroes from Lawrenceburg – folks who have done plenty and don’t have anything named after them. Folks like my grandfather, who was instrumental in bringing industry to Lawrenceburg that lifted people out of disgraceful poverty, who was a leader during the labor unrest in the 60s, a man who served publicly and volunteered where he could and donated privately.

Now, I don’t think my granddad would particularly have liked US Hwy 43 named after him (that probably would be too much), but then again he never sought to have anything name after him. Never really sought fame or fortune in anything. If someone could be a shining beacon of humility – then that was my grandfather. If Fred Thompson’s press office are Googling for Fred and come across this post – please suggest to him that maybe something could be named for my granddad – William C Powell. Just mention the name, he knew him.

Happy Birthday VolMom

Happy Birthday to VolMom

Here’s what’s in bloom on your birthday in my garden…

I forget what this is

And my kitty – Other Cat – not exactly in bloom, (she is bloomin’ fat) but it’s her birthday, too. Now she is seven.

See VolMom, Other Cat is blowing you a birthday kiss

Batten down the hatches

In today’s Guardian, a story from 20 years ago:

Twenty years ago today, the Herald of Free Enterprise set out from the Belgian port of Zeebrugge on its crossing to Dover. Within half an hour, the ferry was lying on its side with its 539 passengers and crew fighting for survival in freezing seas. The bow doors had not been closed.

Twenty years ago, two of my husband’s cousins died in that disaster. His aunt lost two of her children, her oldest and youngest daughters and the oldest daughter’s fiance. They were on one side of the ferry. The rest of the family survived – just.

They received shockingly little compensation for lives utterly destroyed. The negligence was appalling – the head of the enquiry found that there was a “disease of sloppiness” among the ship’s management. The employee responsible for shutting the bow doors – which would have prevented water rushing in and capsizing the ship – was asleep when the ferry left port.

Happy Birthday, Vol Bro

Tomorrow is my brother’s birthday. Tomorrow he will be old enough to know better. This year is a birthday on the cusp – 29. I remember thinking I better get some shit done before I turned 30. I didn’t. I plodded along (though it hasn’t been a bad plod). He might be on the track to get some stuff done this year. Knoxville better watch out.

Last year, I advertised him on this site. He could be quite a catch. He’s still single (as far as I know – he’s a bit of dark horse). Knoxville better watch out.

Anyway, Happy early Birthday VolBro. I’m away and busy tomorrow and might not get the chance to post.