A Peck of Gold

Mississippi Yearnin'

If you spend much time at APOG, you know that I have an abiding love for Louisiana. You'd think I was even born there. But, you'd be wrong. (Fancy that, huh?) I sprang forth from the rich soil of Mississippi, where magnolias and manners abound! I have been feeling a bit disloyal to the Hospitality State lately with all my ramblings about LA, so I thought I'd post some of the reasons I love Mississippi, too. Ah, you’re surprised at this, right? You’ve only heard bad things about Mississippi? I’m not surprised. It’s easy to focus on the poverty and the social problems that have troubled the state for many years. But, it is a great tragedy to overlook the quiet dignity and beauty that graces this land. Mississippi has a gentle, sensual manner that soothes her social and economic wounds, if you will only look.

One of my favorite sights as I drive the country roads of Mississippi is the garden. Long rows of produce grace the hillsides beside homes, carefully tended in the cool of the day. They yield ripe vegetables that fill bellies all year round, still canned and put up like the old days, filling the pantry, and shared with neighbors. A perfume of southern aromas rises from heavy laden tables—fried chicken, steaming roasted potatoes, hot-buttered corn bread, field peas, slices of ripened tomatoes and cucumbers, warm pecan pies and cool lemon meringues, and sweet tea to wash it all down. These cherished recipes are family heirlooms, shared with each generation, their value immeasurable. The food is the heart of the Southern gathering, but the true joys are found when the plates have been cleared away. The dominos come out and stories from the old folks are told or retold. Family stories and lore are planted tenderly in young minds. Eventually, everyone migrates outside, retreating to porch swings and rocking chairs. A game of horseshoes or volleyball starts up in the shade, and the children play in home-made forts and castles. When everyone is sufficiently recovered from the big meal, a juicy watermelon appears and the slices deliciously drip and disappear amidst smiling faces.

Kinships are strengthened and renewed in the simple act of sharing a meal, but it’s sharing the time that really matters.

The state moves slowly from season to season, gliding across the year in all her finery. Rolling hills draped in lush climbing kudzu, the sound of crickets on hot summer nights, the scent of honeysuckle wafting on the breeze; these are the shared memories of all Mississippians. Our childhoods were painted with the reds of magnolia seeds, the greens of clover and mimosa leaves, the silver of minnows in creeks, the purple of blackberries, the pink of azaleas. Our minds are filled with the deltas, bluffs, riverbeds, hills, marshes, and beaches- the places our parents grew up, the places we grew up, the places our children grow up—all rich with history and stories. Our history. Our stories.

Mississippi is strong because her people are strong. That strength comes from our connections with each other, and inevitably with the land. The roots put down with our families sink deep into Mississippi soil. They are not so easily transplanted.

--Louisiana may be in my blood, but Mississippi will always be in my heart--