The Raymond Courthouse

Every morning, I walk up this sidewalk beside the Raymond Courthouse. Some days it’s sunny, some days it’s raining, and occasionally, snowing. I never get tired of looking at the building. It changes with the light and its character is always impressive. It’s the heart of Raymond and tells its own story, without ever having to say a word. 

  Old courthouse photo (courtesy of James Lewis) Not much landscaping around the building, or a fence yet.  Only one small dejected looking horse.

 1929 post card of courthouse (courtesy of James Lewis) Some time prior to 1929, the fence went up and the cattle guard was installed.

                                              Early Morning Photo of Front of Courthouse

                                                                    Back of Courthouse

                                                       Confederate Soldier Monument

This relief is the most poignant part of the Confederate Soldier monument.  The artwork expresses the anguish of war as well as the comfort given to the fallen soldier. My grandfather, James Hampton Johnson, (on my father’s side of the family) was 13 years old when the war began, and fought on the southern side. He was 68 when my father was born. 

                                                                Charlotte's Web


The Orb Weavers

It’s fall and the lady spiders are spinning their webs all around the yard.  This afternoon, as the sun was going down, I discovered a web over my kitchen window.  Pretty cool, huh?

Cats in Raymond

First and foremost, what you need to know, is that I’m allergic to cats. This alone has caused me great conflict at times, since I’m rather fond of them. As a result, I can only have outside cats, and I have two of them. One is named SeeKitty, and the other is Midnight. Please see my former journal entry regarding Midnight....

SeeKitty got her name back when I had to see the kitty in order to feed the kitty (she was wild). That was my agreement with her, and it took almost a year for her to warm up to me. She was very shy. I never once attempted to touch her, and after months and months, she became curious why I didn’t want to touch her. Eventually, she made the first contact, and she’s been a love junkie ever since. Well, I can touch her, my neighbor has had that honor a few times, but no one else. She’s nearly 14 years old by all accounts. In the winter, I put out a heating pad, on the back steps for her, underneath the awning. Old bones don’t feel good in cold weather. 

                                                              SeeKitty in Summer

  
                                               SeeKitty and Midnight- Hard Day in the Yard

The former lady of the house I live in (Miss Connie), had approximately 53 cats in her dotage. I found this out from the neighbors, who eventually were able to remove most of them from the neighborhood. I mean, that’s a lot of cats. Once I found out the number of cats, I asked whether they lived inside or out. Unfortunately, the answer was both. Since my husband had lived in the house for about 10 years, the smell was long gone, although there were signs of spray on some of the inside doors. Kilz paint made them disappear nicely. Oh – by the way, you can use Kilz in your shower to cover up the mold spots in the caulking. It lasts just about as long as the caulking. Good thing to know when company comes!

Since my neighbor and I walk every morning through Raymond, we encounter many animals on our way. Armadillos, owls, hawks, possums, dogs, cats, and even an occasional fox. But most of all – cats. Ferrel cats in all stages of life and health. It is impossible to walk past them every day and not respond. So we carry bags of cat food with us to ease the hardship of the most in need. And no, I am not bringing them all home to live with me – ever.  Below are photos of some of our friends.

Bruiser – This guy takes some of the worst beatings. He is always bleeding from some gash or bite.  But he’s tough, with an attitude to match, and suns himself in front of the Quonset hut.

Baby Kitty – Elaine and I found this poor, tiny kitten on the Baptist Church steps one morning.  She was yowling at the top of her lungs in despair.  She was so tiny that she fit into the palm of my hand.  I think she was about 5 weeks old.  Since I already have two cats, I promptly handed her over to Elaine. We tried to give her a name, but everybody who saw her, said, “ooh-baby kitty.”  It was said so often, that she came to think that was her name, and so it is. 

Munchkin – We think this might be Baby Kitty’s mother, since they have the same triangular face.  Munchkin lives under an old house and has had at least two litters. She’s always desperately hungry.

 


Eli – Eli was a young male when Elaine first started feeding him. He was quite attractive with his stripes, but as manhood approached, he would go off for a month or two and then come back starved and full of wounds.One time his head swelled up so big, I thought for sure he’d be dead by morning, but he somehow healed up, and then, of course, went back to fighting. Try as I might, he wouldn't look up at me for the photo.


Olivia – I first met Olivia when I started walking in Raymond.  She was a very friendly, middle aged striped kitty with an O on her side, and most days, I’d stop and pet her. Then I found out that the people who lived in Olivia’s house, moved away one day, and left her. Elaine and I fed her for about four years, but now a new family has moved into Olivia’s house, and they’ve taken her in.  Yes!

Spicy Orange Ginger Beef on Rice

Some time ago, my husband and I were gifted half a cow. When our 220 pounds arrived, we stashed it in our new freezer.  The beef came from a grass fed cow, which means it’s mighty tasty, but a bit on the tough side. I have been challenged to invent ways to prepare it, and below is my favorite solution so far.  

Cook rice and set aside. I like the California Brown Basmati Rice, but if you must, white rice will do. 

Take a raw sirloin steak and cut it up into thin slices. Place it in a bowl and add chopped up fresh ginger, the zest of an orange, and Tamari Sauce (soy sauce will do too). Add some red pepper flakes to make it even spicier. Mix well and let it marinate for an hour in the refrigerator. 

Cook the marinated meat in a wok over medium high flame (yes, I have a new gas stove). When the beef is cooked to your liking, add half a cup of chicken stock with corn starch mixed in. The juice will thicken.  If it’s too thick, add a little more chicken stock. Spoon over a bed of rice. 

 The Moon

Neil Armstrong was buried at sea today.  I remember watching him take that first step on the moon, on a black and white television, and marveling at the technology it took to get him there.  It was a time when the country was still full of hope, even though it was rapidly changing.  Everyone was talking about it, and when I arrived home, I brought up the news again, to discuss it with my family.  We were all full of enthusiasm, except for my grandmother, who turned away from the conversation, and was very quiet.  After our initial conversation was over, I came over to her and asked why she was not participating in the exchange.  She looked at me, and then glanced downward.  She sighed and said that she was very disappointed that there was a man on the moon.  I asked her why, looking at her closely.  She told me she thought God lived on the moon, and how could Neil Armstrong have flown to heaven, and now she knew that heaven wasn’t on the moon.  I found myself profoundly stopped in my tracks. Here was a woman who was faced with a belief she held all her life, only to find that it wasn’t true.  If there was ever a time when I needed to give back what she had given to me – this was the time.  I took her hand and said that I was lucky enough to study the world’s religions in my last year of high school, and that I learned a lot about God.  What I found out, was that God was everywhere, and he didn’t live in one place, and he didn’t have to be that image of an old man with a big gray beard.  God has no gender, or didn’t necessarily have to have human form, but if she wanted to believe God was a he, it was OK too.  I told her that she should hold onto her beliefs, and that nothing had changed, except perhaps, her view of God.  It was just another aspect she had not considered. She took some time to think about it, and then said that she could accept that.  I smiled and then said, “ now let’s enjoy Neil Armstrong’s giant step for mankind.”

                                                     This is my favorite house in Raymond. 

                                          I met the lady of the house, Judy Lacy, today.  She told
                                          me that this house was the home of John Bell Williams
                                          during his childhood.  Too bad they lost part of their
                                          Live Oak during the hurricane  It's always sad to lose
                                          trees. The lions are a great addition. 

                                                  Another great old house on Main Street

Mirror with Basket Frame

I took this photo from an angle since the mirror reflects the person taking the photo.  Much to my delight, it captured a corner of my front porch.  This design took about a week to make, and putting on the glass beads was fun. 

                                                
                                     While searching the web for images of women with umbrellas,
                                     I found this one by Henri Rousseau, one of my favorite artists. 
                                               

                                    This is the way I'd like to have the town's people think of me.

Umbrellas

When I moved back to Mississippi after 30 years, I had forgotten how cruel Mr. Sun can be in these parts.  Although the sky was very blue, and the sun nice and shiny in California, it was never of the magnitude it is here. I had quite a good hat selection upon arrival, but I soon found out that wearing a hat in the blazing hot sun not only gives you hat head, it also becomes increasing annoying as the sweat runs down your cheeks (not to mention that it makes your head twice as hot). So, one day, as I was going out the door for my daily walk, I picked up the umbrella. My walking partner looked a little leery of my idea, but much to my delight, there was a noticeable difference in temperature and comfort. After a few times around the town, someone politely asked me if I thought it was raining. The next time, someone drove slowly by me and whispered, “it’s not raining,” in a sing-songy voice. And of course, the next question, did I expect rain. Since I do have a sense of humor about myself, I laughed the first few times. Being I’m almost an OP (9 months and counting), I’ve decided to let the town think I’m just eccentric. Please see the above picture. 

When I first started walking, I was known as the “woman who walks.” Not many women were walking in Raymond back then. The name took me back to where I had grown up. There was a woman, called “The Walker,”  who walked from town to town, day after day, years ago, and my mother told me that she was crazy, and that’s why she walked so many miles.  I considered this, and then made the comment that she looked to be in pretty good shape  “What an odd thing to say,” my mother commented. And then I remembered -"The Walker" had also carried an umbrella. Pause.  Ah well, I guess I’ll carry on the tradition.