Spiders: the Spookiest of Halloween's Tricks

                Even while hearing childhood's rhyme about Miss Muffet enjoying her curds and whey, minding her own business, I've thought spiders to be most rude.
                Hiding, sneaking out when you least expect them, they drop in uninvited.  They are bold and move rapidly in aggressive mode.
                Their housekeeping skills are questionable. Webs are vile.  Where there is a web, there is a spider, rather like the combination of smoke and fire.
                Once I brushed a web from my car door as I seated myself behind the steering wheel.  I brushed away the web, but somehow the occupant flipped inside the car. Something moved, so I brushed my hair, glancing into the rear view mirror in time to see the "tarantula from the black lagoon" scurry onto the visor. Still in the neighborhood, I screeched the car to a halt, threw open the door, jumped out, jumped up and down and screamed.  Recognizing that would not kill the monster, I calmed a moment. I took off my shoe, leaned inside the car, flipped down the visor and watched the arachnid fall onto the seat. There I took his life with great pleasure and abandon, wailing away at his fragmented body with the entire shoe's surface.
             Perhaps spiders in general seek revenge for the death of their leader at my hands, for spiders show up to scare me, behaving like mischief-making boys who run away after chunking their dirt clods at dressed up girls.
             I've written a story that combines several elements that make me nervous:  spiders, self-centered women with black hair, Miss Haversham, and guys named Jake.  I hope you'll enjoy "Black Ice." It's located in the Pages section to the right of this BlogPost.

Legend and Lore: Oil and The Goat Woman in South Arkansas

              Smackover Oil Field – the Smackover Formation in south Arkansas. Located on the road to El Dorado from Camden, Smackover was noted for a dress shop downtown and football bleachers with the marker “coldest on the face of the earth.”  And oil. And, of course, The Goat Woman.
              What history explains about Smackover relates to black gold. Multiple oil wells in Union, Ouachita, and Columbia counties set the tone for wealth, prominence, and politics in El Dorado, Camden, and Magnolia.
              A gusher, the first of many in the area, boomed on January 10, 1921.  Almost overnight, Smackover was bursting at the seams and by 1925, the Smackover Field ranked #1 in US Oil production. The oil supply dwindled, and the town’s population plummeted.

What my friends and I remember most of Smackover is the legendary Goat Woman.  “I have Goat Woman hair, today,” we’d lament.

              She and her husband, according to research, drove their Circus Wagon from the New England area into south Arkansas during the Oil Boom and never left. Once the circus closed in Camden, they motored on down the road. A musical couple, they performed for the locals and became part of the Oil Boom lore. The Circus Wagon had a performance balcony and  kind-spirited Rhena Salome Miller Meyer often performed there, entertaining children with her one-woman band. The wagon was like today’s travel trailer or motor home.

              Her husband died, but Rhena Meyer remained outside Smackover, with no children, raising goats -many goats– gradually becoming a recluse. The circus wagon was retrieved and is located at the Oil and Gas Museum outside Smackover, AR. Rhena died in 1970.
             Far more legend about The Goat Woman exists than fact. Our childhood adventures in the 1950's and 1960's centered on The Goat Woman as families traveled from Camden to El Dorado for doctor’s appointments, shopping, or athletic events.  No round trip was successful unless The Goat Woman was sighted.

I’ve continued to be fascinated by The Goat Woman and other pieces of local lore swirling around South Arkansas. A fictional story about the Goat Woman is available by clicking the link to the right.  I like this story better than the truth.  My memory of her is far richer than any facts, and imagination coupled with legend creates stories of miracles.  Join me “As Two Memories Collide.”

Magical Visitor Vanquishes Killer Beige

When ice cream selection is between plain vanilla and strawberry-cheesecake swirl, I prefer the richer, creamier, fruity choice scooped into a waffle cone. It has not always been that way. 
            Ben and Jerry’s Ice Cream with their pints available in the grocer’s freezer case changed my preferences.  The same is true with a change in my color preferences after a magical visitor swooped like Mary Poppins into my den.
           In the mid-seventies, my Mamaw left me a bit of cash to use for my new house.  Down to Ethan Allen Gallery I journeyed, dog-eared catalog pages and budget in hand. Selecting a full array of den furniture, I was a happy shopper. 
           At home, I leafed through magazines looking for color combinations and fabric inspiration.  I decided on the oh-so-70’s look of navy blue, burgundy, and cream. I still needed to choose the fabric and patterns, but was gridlocked in indecision.
            “You know, with your purchase, our design services are free,” the sales-clerk explained.  “Free?”  “Yes…when would you like her to come out?”

           The doorbell rang and the fashionable Virginia Rippee breezed into my den; countless flip-books swirled around her. She placed fabric swatches before me, adding a spoonful of sugared suggestions. She encouraged me to be bold in choices of color, pattern, and texture. She exclaimed, “You’ll also need an area rug to pull it together and some window treatments, also.What colors would you like to look at?”

            I’m silent, thinking…what color would tie all this together?
             I say, “hmm….beige…maybe?”
            “Excuse me?”
             I repeated my hesitant choice in a whisper.
            “Ultimate dread, pestilence descend, and a Plague upon your House. Might I have a glass of ice water and some digitalis, perhaps with a bit of sugar?
             Surviving the attack of killer beige, she opened my world to a mix of plaid, floral, solid, and print… as long as the colors compliment or are in the same family. She pulled the cream-color film from my eyes and let color dance across roof-tops and slide down banisters.
             Her lesson left me no longer anchored in neutral, but roaming free, experimenting in patterns, combinations of color as festive as a carousel.
              Like Ben and Jerry challenged me to try chocolate turtle caramel supreme, cookie-dough, and chunky monkey flavors, the designer from Ethan Allen encouraged me to mix it up with the aid of her rather extraordinary magical powers.

          My magical visitor Virginia Rippee, now retired, is much respected among the design community and by her clientele. In her days before Virginia Rippee and Associates Interior Design, she was a design consultant for Ethan Allen Gallery in Memphis.
        
            Rector Crafts Fair - Saturday before Thanksgiving - Rector Community Center - "2-Cute Aprons" will debut with new designs and colors for all seasons.  (The purchase of an apron carries no expectation of cooking!)-
see BLOG: More Than a Bracelet
 

Rocky Road Ice Cream with an 8-Track

      Once providing support for a friend hell-bent on eloping in Oklahoma, I know about riding-along.
      Bonnie experienced a fatal “ride-along” with Clyde.
      Movie couples, including Thelma and Louise, have ridden along – off a cliff.
      Saturday, I rode-along, again.

      An off-road adventure offers new experiences: climbs and descents through mountain rocks, trenches, and timber. No incline too steep for the radical Land Cruiser.

      Imagine the Quapaw swarming this Ouachita mountains landscape.  Horseback pioneers urge their steeds onward, upward and over hillsides fit for mountain goats.  Rocky road ice cream is not as chunky as these trails.

       Today’s off-roaders program the instrument panel and a mechanism grips the boulders like a roller-coaster car as it engages, grinding upward prior to the death-plunge.

       The driver contemplates aloud as we climb terrain littered with boulders and exposed roots within craters and crevices, “Yep, it’s time to switch to the 8-track.”

       I ponder his sanity.  
“8-track” has not been around for over 40 years. I become concerned and voice a question.

      “No,” he chuckles. “Not 8-Track…A-Track.”

      Oh. OK.  Nevermind.

I’m just riding-along.

Fall: The Second Spring

Fall - the second Spring; every leaf is a flower! - I posted the accompanying photo and statement because it touched my spirit.  I love Fall.

Below are the final stanzas of "Autumn Days" by Mildred Gordon Horne
...

Trees in beauty

 All arrayed
With gorgeous leaves
Of every shade.

Pink and red
And golden brown
Soon will nestle
On the ground.

Was e’er a people

So richly blest
As we,
With all this loveliness?

Our hearts are filled
With thanks and praise
To God above
For Autumn Days.

Memory Banks Contain Little Cash

               Souvenir shops inside Stuckey’s have given way to swanky Gift Shoppes in every conceivable venue. I shopped at all of them while touring many of the National Parks out West.  
               The Teen Tour to Washington, D.C. after 8^th grade firmly clings to my memory and taught me many valuable lessons in souvenir purchasing. While the cost of the trip included quite a large number of pre-paid meals and activities, we were on our own for souvenirs.  Daddy gave me a set amount of money and warned, as only he could, “Now, that’s all you have. Don't call for more. These travelers checks should be budgeted…” and on.  His words made a huge impression, so much that I was really scared I’d run out of money.
                      Charm bracelets were the rage, so many of the girls on the trip bought replicas of Rock City and Ruby Falls, the Naval Academy, Arlington National Cemetery, the Lincoln Memorial, the White House, the Capitol, and the Washington Monument…something at each stop. I didn’t.

By the time we were on the homeward portion of the trip, special moments and opportunities had passed.  Did you know there are no souvenir shops on the West Virginia highways as they wander into Kentucky and Tennessee?  I had money remaining when I got home. I’ve determined that is NOT the way to preserve a sight-seeing trip.
                   With digital photography and debit cards, I'm dangerous. I prefer pictures with companions in the photos – otherwise, a book or a postcard by professionals. Items that do not require dusting are favorites. My first choice is jewelry. Second in preference is a pair of fanciful socks or perhaps one special Christmas tree ornament.  Since I don’t often wear t-shirts, I’ll buy one for yard work or house cleaning days. Since those times are rare, a t-shirt is not a good investment. With NE Arkansas weather, though, a hoodie comes in handy.
                  On our most recent trip, I found jewelry that defies description in both beauty and price. The turquoise pieces in multiple radiant colors were favorites (at very expensive prices). A tiny ring, a Pandora charm, a coffee table book of Wyoming’s National Parks and beautiful scenery, and pairs of Yellowstone and Mt. Rushmore socks will delight my memory along with the numerous digital photographs designed in a Shutterfly book. 
                 I did not return home with lots of cash, but with a memory bank filled to overflowing with America’s gorgeous landscapes and priceless experiences shared with wonderful people and my dear hubby.
                You might also enjoy:  More than a Bracelet - BLOG listed at the right of this Post.  "Lady Bug Souvenir Fashion and Décor Tips"