Sweet Home Alabama

A gal from my High School years, Elin Shallcross and her wife, Trudy (they were recently married legally in Iowa, but have shared a spousal relationship for 30 years.) were the best of hosts during my visit to Fairhope, Alabama. They have two little dogs; Tess and Tucker. My Tucker often got confused when "little Tucker" was reprimanded for barking. Tess and Little Tucker sure set their limits with my Tucker-boy but by our third day there, he was allowed to play with their toys and Little Tucker sat on my lap.

I played, sang, and ate my way through the farmland and seashore.

Trudy is a very accomplished musician and included me in her weekly events of the Fairhope Pickers, singers, and Saltry Harp players. The day I attended, there were 20 pickers; picked were mountain dulcimers, guitars, saltry harps, harp, auto harps, cello, and fiddles. Was a fun time. I wished my Blueberry Jammers in Southwest Harbor, Maine sharing the moment with us. We jammed for the first hour, took a coffee/snack break, then participated in an open mike hour. I performed my original song, Walking The Hedgerow, about my experience of walking the plowed farm fields of Ohio hunting for arrowheads. Another woman played her autoharp and sang hymns that were dear to her soul that resides in her 91-year-old vigorous body.

Our first full day there I wanted to walk the beach. Unfortunately, no dogs were allowed on the beaches, not even in the State Park. Not to be daunted, I drove on the road leading to Ft. Morgan. On the way I stopped to ask a woman who was walking her dog for directions to the Gulf Shores Dog Park. I was successful in finding it and Tuck had a short sniffing visit with another boy Shih Tzu. A man there told me how to get to the dog friendly beach and I took Tuck there. It was chilly and cloudy on that day but we walked, shell hunting, and returned Saturday. When I let him off leash, Tuck immediately found a blanket-full of college girls. He also

loved digging holes in the sand. This day was warm and sunny. I alternated between sitting in the sun, dipping in the ocean, and walking. I found a beautiful starfish but discovered it was still alive. As much as I wanted to take it home, I couldn't bear to let it die. I tossed it into the surf and later saw it still lingering. It was red and white and had six curved arms and was magical to gaze upon.

Hungry for home-made southern grits, Trudy and Elin took me to Biscuit King, the only one of its kind. You haven't seen or eaten biscuits until you've been to Biscuit King. These biscuits were the size of a frisbee and stuffed with all sorts of yummies if you wanted. Grits were good too. One half of the ownership, the husband end, is a senior long distance marathon runner. He is also the cook at Biscuit King and a devout Christian and during the slow down periods, he walks among the customers singing old hymns. Ironically though, on Friday nights when he hires bands to play, he performs in drag. I wondered if he wore his dresses at home for his wife as well. Interesting! That night they took me to Big Daddy's, a popular restaurant that sat in the lowlands, kinda swampy-like. I could hear cajun music in my head even though there "weren't any playin." Fried Oysters and soft-shell crab were my fare that night. The next night I sucked up six raw oysters garnished with my self-made cocktail sauce, topped off by a platter of broiled flounder and shrimp scampi packed down with Key Lime pie which I refused to share with anyone.

Southern Alabama is lovely and I can see me spending future winters there as a Snowbird. The air is sweet with the scent of flowers, Camelia and wild honeysuckle. After the sun softly drops below the trees, the Mocking birds coo-coo and the tree frogs trill to find love.