Ruinous activities

Half of the barn has collapsed and the other half has a serious leaning problem. Can you spell R-U-I-N-S?

We’re looking at an old south Arkansas barn. From the looks of things, we better look fast. It is on its last legs, teetering on collapse. The story, on “ruins,”  started on the Photo of the Week page at Corndancer dot com. To see some other pictures of the barn and get in on the start of the story, click here. A cool and rewarding thing to do.

The “good” half of the barn, so to speak. Behind the leaning wall is a mid-seventies Ford Torino, (if my car ID cells are functioning properly).

The barn is a typical setup. There was loft for hay, stalls for mules and other livestock, and dry storage for feed. In its time, it served well. While many of us look at the nostalgic aspects of an old barn, we tend to forget that the structure was part of a business. And that part of the agri-business has about as much use today as carbon paper does in a modern office. Still …………….

The welcome mat is not out.

The house which went with the barn is still standing and in substantially better condition than the barn. It has what appears to be a “sleeping porch,” a now-forgotten part of many homes of the mid-forties and earlier. A sleeping porch was screened, preferably on the east side of the house since you were attempting to sleep in a cooler environment. Having stacked a few z’s on a sleeping porch, I can give the concept a hearty thumbs up. It has been a few moons however.

Call it a "sleeping porch museum."

When the house was deserted, bed springs were left on the porch. That seems to be the most popular thing to leave behind. In most abandoned houses I’ve seen, there are always bed springs or mattresses. Can’t get ‘em in a car I guess. The door is boarded up and one window is covered with corrugated roofing metal.

A lightning rod and a lightning rod weather vane combination.

Lightning rods are perched on the roof of the house. I once worked for a man who told me that if I saw lightning rods on a house to bore in and sell ‘em anything I could, because if they spent good money on lightning rods, they could be convinced to buy anything.

Things you don’t expect to see department

Somehow, on the outskirts of a small southern town, you just do not expect to see a chopper on the porch. A couple of four wheelers, 50 gallon ice chest, a couple of cats, and a "broke-down" trolling motor, yes. A chopper no. Also a satellite dish and a TV antenna, no less.

Thanks for dropping by,
Stay cool and keep your powder dry,

Joe

Water woes and meandering through the Delta

Mother Nature has dealt many farmers here in the Delta a lousy hand. Never-ending spring rains delayed planting or drowned what had been planted. Now that the deluge is over the dry spell has begun. We started this story on the Photo of the Week page at Corndancer dot com. Click here and find out how this all started … and see a couple of additional pictures.

While this center pivot irrigation device has the appearance of a turbocharged praying mantis ready to pounce on you, its purpose is beneficial. It is making certain that the young cotton plants at its feet survive to become your next shirt, sheets or "drawers."

It’s not as if irrigation is not an expected and  predictable function of the process. It’s just that the requirements for it have started earlier. Most of these fields have been prepared in the non-growing seasons to accommodate irrigation. The landscape is sloped to allow irrigation water to flow where it is needed.

Your future pilaf in the making — a rice field is being topped off. It is necessary to flood these fields. Nothing new there. The rub is, planting is way off schedule due to the relentless spring rains which pummeled us a few weeks back. The well is powered by electricity. Many other irrigation wells are powered by internal combustion engines.

A non-rigid plastic pipe (below) is attached to the rice well above. The pipe snakes out through the field. Where water is needed, operators punch holes in the pipe to get the results you see above and below.

Flexible plastic pipe has mostly replaced rigid metal pipe as conduit for irrigation waters. Plastic pipe is less expensive, deploys faster and is reusable and/or recyclable.

The communities in this agricultural area are old. In some cases, not much is left to give evidence of the early inhabitants. The exceptions to that rule are the churches and cemeteries. The grave below is marked with a “Woodmen of the World Memorial” tombstone. It wasn’t long ago that I saw a TV commercial touting the benefits of that organization. The stone almost looks like it could have been an ancestor to R2D2.

The Methodist Church in the background, has no cornerstone or other evidence of its age, but the graves tell the story. Mr. C.W. Barner lies under this stone. He was born April 15, 1888 and died April 18, 1919. A number of graves in the cemetery are much older than this one.

Giving you the bird

I leave you this week by giving you the bird. The redwinged blackbird was perched in a healthy stand of corn near Cornerstone, Arkansas. I stopped to look at the corn and the bird. He stayed put until I got the shot and then departed.

Thanks for dropping by. Pray for rain.

Joe

In the neighborhood of 1876

This old barn is at the corner of Arkansas Highway 366 and Elm Road near Roe, Arkansas.

Those who know about this old barn agree that it is at least 133 years old and probably a bit older than that. The barn is on Arkansas Highway 366 near Roe, Arkansas. The story of this barn started on the Photo of the Week Page at Corndancer Dot Com. To see how it started,  with two additional pictures (count ‘em, 2), click here to proceed to the photo of the week page, a very cool thing to do.

The barn fell from use when the farm upon which it stands changed hands in 2004. That it remained in use for more than 128 years is probably why it is in the good, but deteriorating condition we find today. Certainly, at that age, the barn was originally built to provide stall space for the farm mule herd. “Adaptive re-use” by subsequent owners required interior modifications, some of which you see below.

These storage rooms in the barn are a post-mule era addition. The area above the rooms provides a home for a nice sized barn owl.

Finding the barn was on a whim, which was on a route determined by a previous whim. Sometimes I believe our whims are weighted to our experiences, and I believe this was the case on discovering the old barn. Earlier, a bit to the south in Arkansas County, north of Stuttgart AR, I turned on to Arkansas Highway on the aforementioned “previous whim.” As a result, I ran across the crop duster airstrip below.

The curved top structure you see is at the north end of the runway and not far above waist high to me, at 6'-3." You just don't see this sort of thing often. Ever?

There may be a far-fetched explanation. The little building looks a bit governmental, perhaps even somewhat 40’s era military, which gives rise to the explanation. At nearby Stuttgart, Arkansas, there was a US Army Air Corps training facility. I’m betting that in an earlier permutation, this was an ancillary strip to that base. The building, under those circumstances would have held a few spare parts, fuel and oil. Maybe some contraband elixirs as well. In the absence of other explanations, that one will have to do.

By then, my stomach was telling me it was time to take on nourishment. With any kind of luck, a country store with a talented sandwich maker would soon materialize and sho-nuff, in short-order, I wheeled into Cascoe, Arkansas, home of Cloud’s Grocery.

Clouds Grocery at Cascoe, Arkansas is a fine stop for sandwiches.

I did not bother to read the sign informing the general public that Clouds Grocery was a indeed a purveyor of sandwiches. That’s probably why I garnered the quizzical look from the proprietor when I made the sandwich inquiry. Like most country stores, asking for wheat bread is an exercise in futility. That aside, the two-fisted ham and turkey sandwich I got was running over with the meats,  plus lettuce, onions, pickles and tomatoes. It was a masterpiece. I wolfed it down and now I was well fortified for the next whim, which resulted in discovering the barn.

After the barn, on another whim, I sallied forth up US Highway 79 to Clarendon, Arkansas. The good folks at Clarendon saw fit to keep the old Merchants and Planters Bank building in good condition. It is now their visitor center. Since it was Sunday afternoon late, the doors were locked. A return trip during business hours is a must. Clarendon was like a lot of other small communities with a strongly weighted agricultural economy. They had a “Merchants and Planters Bank.” There must have been a jillion M&Ps  in the south, many of which of which are now decaying wrecks. Not so in Clarendon.

The nicely preserved and still-in-use Merchants and Planters Bank building in Clarendon AR. Good job folks!

A One-eighty

Less than six weeks ago, we were griping about too much rain.

Those of you who read these epistles on a regular basis will probably remember my laments regarding overkill in our seemingly endless spring rains. Take a look above. The problem has done a 180. The tractor operator is preparing a seed bed for imminent planting. Soybeans are probably what will be planted. The earlier rains prevented many farmers from planting their beans. Now there is a sense of urgency. Not so at the barn.

Thanks for dropping by,

Joe Dempsey
Weekly Grist for the Eyes and Mind

Btfsplk or Addams?

What was probably a fine home in its time has now taken on the disheveled, creepy, haunted look relished by mystery fans and despised by the squeamish.

When I saw this old house, now a bit on the mysterious side, I wondered, could this have been occupied by the Li’l Abner character and bad-luck artist,  Joe Btfsplk? Or perhaps by the equally famous champions of dark humor, the Addams Family?  Either would probably feel right at home. Speaking of which, this exploration had its beginnings on the Photo of the Week page at Corndancer dot com.  You are looking at the back yard of this house east of Ola, Arkansas. To see a couple of front pictures and get in on the start of the story, click here, a very cool thing to do.

This room, an addition to the house, is large and had large windows, both conditions unusual for homes of this age.

The right side of the house is an addition and is a large room, unusual by the standards of rural residences of that day and time. I’m guessing it is in the 90-100 year old age, but be advised, “guessing” is the operative word. The room also had large windows, also a bit on the unusual side for a house of this age. The open area to the left of the picture is the back of the breezeway through the middle of the house.

The old "living room" is a repository of evidence. But who dares to investigate?

Lest you think I have lost what few marbles I have left, I did not enter the house to shoot the picture above. Having a tall tripod, a tall skeletal structure, a short ladder and an open window saved the day for an interior shot. I like to include these when I can because I suspect many people are curious as to what is in the inside of abandoned houses. I suspect that at some time, probably more than once, a transient, not too choosy about accommodations, dragged the bedding into the room and built a small fire. Not at the top of the pecking order, but, any port in a storm I suppose.

Methinks there is some value in almost everything we see or hear. This old house is an example. Most of us should be grateful we do not have a wind tunnel through the middle of our respective residences. We should also be grateful that Al Capp and Charles Addams saw fit to provide us with countless laughs. And in Al Capp’s case, some insights into ourselves and our society.

Thanks for dropping by,
Joe

133 years and still counting

If you’ve arrived here from the Corndancer dot com photo of the week page, the story continues. If you haven’t been to the photo of the week page and want to be regaled with a couple of additional photos and the start of the story of a family that has kept it’s reunion going for 133 years, click here.

What you see here is southern potluck at it's finest. And you are seeing just a fraction of it. There are five more tables just like this one, brimming with mouthwatering cuisine from home kitchens. It's chow-time at the 133rd Marks-Barnett Family Reunion in Cleveland County, Arkansas, June 7, 2009. The total caloric value might power an aircraft carrier a respectable distance.

Remarkable people

The Marks family is truly a remarkable group in many ways. Their cemetery is the most visible evidence of their dogged determination to “do-right.” . In the early fifties, several of the family shook their heads in disgust and mused that their family cemetery, a horrible mess at best, deserved better. And that’s about all it took to spark a cemetery renaissance via no small amount of sweat equity.

Today the well kept cemetery not only is the final resting place for beloved relatives and ancestors, it is an evolving showplace of history and southern rural culture. The grounds around the cemetery are laced with nature trails, some of which follow small streams. While negotiating the trails, one will find several small, but sturdy foot bridges over gullies, and creeks where a stumble or splash might ruin an otherwise pleasant stroll through the woods.

Marks Cemetery, the site of the Marks Family Reunion is close enough to the site of the War Between the States Battle of Marks Mill, the creeks were red with blood during the battle. It was reported that “ ... so many horses and soldiers were killed or wounded that Salty Branch (above) ran red with blood.” Today, Salty Branch is a clear placid stream, a far cry from the violence of April 25, 1864. One of the hiking trails around the cemetery follows the trace of the stream.

A large number antique farm implements placed around the grounds are visible evidence of the agrarian nature of the areas economy in the 19th and early 20th centuries. Plaques at every piece of equipment give evidence of it use. This horse-drawn planter is a good example. The planter was donated to the cemetery collection in memory of Tate “Uncle Bud” McGehee “Miss Vaughn” McGehee. Family member Edgar Colvin installed the planter at the cemetery, The plaque information, typical of the collection, reveals a story. The planter was bought by Mr. McGehee in 1920. He always said, “ ... this planter is so accurate that if it drops two seeds in a hill, it will reach back and pick up one of them.”

James and James Boney, of New Edinburg bring their extensive collection of Civil War relics to the annual reunion. The elder James Boney found most of the collection on the battlefields of The Battle of Marks Mill. Younger James is a well-spring of Civil War information and Elder Boney is a respected source of information on the Battle of Marks Mill.

Left to right, (and vice-versa) James Boney and James Boney and their Civil War relic collection

I would be remiss if I did not make mention Spears Country Store, not far from Marks Cemetery. Not having been to the cemetery site before, I decided that a reconnaissance trip on Saturday before the reunion on Sunday would be a good idea. After the my visit to and a few shots on the grounds, I meandered to nearby New Edinburg and dropped into Spears Country Store for what is known in southern parlance as a “cole drank.” (It is my understanding that some misguided souls call the refreshment a “soda.”) I was delighted to discover that the store offered sandwiches. I ordered a ham and turkey sandwich. It was so fine! And a hand full. Jerry Clowers would have probably said you could “ … eat one of those suckers and work all day at the saw mill.”

Spears Country Store, New Edinburg, Arkansas

Folks, there is a lot of goodness left in our world. From families to stores and sandwiches, this ol’ boy found ‘em this weekend.

Thanks for dropping by,
Joe Dempsey

Falling Water and neighbors

Falling Water Falls on Falling Water Creek east of Ben Hur and Pelsor, Arkansas is one of the best swimming holes you'll ever find.

Falling Water Falls on Falling Water Creek, east of Ben Hur and Pelsor, Arkansas has a lot going for it as a water fall. Though it may become a bit skinny in late summer months, it is for the most part an active waterfall twelve months of the year. You must bump along several miles of gravel road to arrive at Falling Water, but once you are there, you do not have to leave your vehicle to see the falls. But everyone gets out and looks. Falling Water has its own sound, a symphonic rumble and rustle which resounds from the rocks and rivets your undivided attention. For a bit over twenty years, I’ve watched folks become mesmerized by the falls siren song. Me included.

Another picture of Falling Water

This wet and wild story started on the Photo of the Week page at Corndancer dot com. To see another picture of Falling Water and get in on the start of the story, click here, a very cool thing to do.

Pelsor. Arkansas

Hankins Country Store is alive and well at Pelsor. Yipee!! Thanks to Danielle Jones for this photo, she's one of the new proprietors of the famous store.

Unless you are approaching from the east, you will go through Pelsor, Arkansas, where Arkansas Highways 7, 16,  and 123 meet. There’s a post office, a store and a couple of residences at Pelsor and not much more. But you must consider this little place as the epicenter of a phenomenal collection of natures finest attractions. Within about a 12-15 mile radius, you’ll find numerous mountain streams and waterfalls. You’ll also find Pedestal Rocks Scenic Area, an area of nature’s mega sculptures; and Rotary-Ann overlook, one of the finest Ozarks overlooks.

You’ll also find the newly reopened  Hankins Country Store, est. 1922. Hankins was the de rigueur stop for bikers, hunters, hikers and yes, itinerant photographers until it was closed a few years ago. It was like the death of an old friend. Now Hankins relatives have reopened the store much to the delight of neighbors and visitors.

Haw Creek Falls

Haw Creek Falls at Haw Creek National Campground, Hwy. 123 southeast of Pelsor, Arkansas. The easily accessible campground attracts visitors far and wide.

Southeast of Pelsor, you’ll find Haw Creek Falls National Campground. Like Falling Water, Haw Creek falls are easy to access. The falls are just a few steps from the entrance road to the camp grounds. The water level of the falls is a bit on the low side in the picture above. Take a look at Haw Creek Falls with substantially more water here.

Illinois Bayou

Illinois Bayou falls north of the Victor Road bridge, east of Arkansas Highway 7.

Scoot down Highway 7 from Pelsor to Victor Road, turn left and travel east until you cross Illinois Bayou on a remote bridge. The gravel road has a number of switchbacks and the trip through this mountainous area is worth the effort. Currently, watch for log trucks. The loggers are cleaning up after last winters devastating ice store. If you have a four wheel drive vehicle, take the third left road past the bridge and go until you see these falls on your left. I’ve never checked the odometer and it seems like it takes forever. You ford one small creek and slither through a long mud hole that never seems to dry up, even late in the summer. A different view of this waterfall was the featured cover photo of an annual report for Bank of the Ozarks.

Brock Cemetery

The grave of Victory B. Keithley, died September 11, 1855 at the age of seven years, two months and 22 days.

On the way to Illinois Bayou as you round a curve, you see a sign emblazoned with “Brock Cemetery,” and a right pointing arrow. I first visited the cemetery in 1990 and have visited and shot there off and on since then. The road to the cemetery from Victor Road is very steep. You keep your foot on the brakes most of the way down.

In the mid-nineties, I ventured down the road and met one of the caretakers of the cemetery, a Mr. Prince who lived on Victor Road, east of the Illinois Bayou bridge. Mr. Prince was like his name, a gentleman of the first order. I asked him if he knew the story behind the unusual grave in the picture. He said he did and revealed it to me. Victory B. Keithley, daughter of a family headed west by wagon through this valley, took sick and died at the site of this cemetery. The family buried Victory in the grave you see above. After the burial, the family went northeast to Batesville, Arkansas and had the large stones hewed and marker made. The straight line map distance from the cemetery to Batesville is in the neighborhood of 70 miles.  So one could easily add 25 to 30% for curves, nooks crannies and detours. Once the stones were ready, the Keithly family returned to Victory’s grave and finished their job.

That was 154 years ago. Once the first grave was there, the site became a community cemetery and has been ever since. The small stones you see in the background behind the Victory B. Keithley grave are graves of loved ones whose families could afford nothing fancier. The times and people were tough.

Brock Cemetery is actively used and is maintained by members of the community. The sign at the cemetery notifies the reader that the annual cleanup day is the second Saturday in June.

West of the cemetery

Leading west from the cemetery is a primitive road that is not much better than a trail. Conditions such as these are like dangling bait in front of a an off road equipped pick up owner, virtually irrestible. The road did not improve with length. After negotiating some dry creek beds and fording a small stream, no more than a foot or foot and a half deep (enough to make a very satisfying splash), I came to an unfordable stream. I dismounted and heard the siren sound of rushing water in the distance. I turned to the sounds and walked down a primitive road which doubles as an overflow creek bed and parallels the stream. After about 75 yards, I decided to check out the banks of the bayou or creek, which ever. Fortunately, the banks were no more than 15 yards or so from the road with a minimum of stickers to negotiate to get there.

After squeaking through some broken limbs (recent violent floods you know), I made it to the bank and listened. I could hear the rushing of the water. Wretchedly, it was coming from around a bend.  After dragging wait-a-minute vines, stumbling over grapefruit size rocks and a short ankle-deep wade, about 25 yards later, I rounded the bend and what to my wondering eyes should appear but some white water and its resultant boondocks symphony.

A large rock helps create some white water and the gurgling, rushing sounds that go with it. Candy for the eyes and ears. Campers would possibly fight over a place like this.

Just upstream, two branches of the same stream or a couple of different creeks come together over a bed of rocks and gravel. White water and more gurgling. It is a pristine site with natural sound effects. Well worth the short hike.

Every picture you’ve seen here and at Corndancer, save the store image, was shot between 08:30 and 17:30 on May 29, year of our Lord. 2009; all within no more than 10 or 15 miles from the dead center of Pelsor, Arkansas. Not bad for a place whose population struggles to make it into the teens. Just to serves to jerk our chains and remind us of a couple of proven concepts, to wit: Bigger ain’t necessarily better, and left alone, Mother Nature can conjure up some cool stuff. There is a price to pay to see Her stuff in the form of bumps, bruises, scratches, sweat and a nibble or two from honery insects, but it’s worth it. And probably more.

Thanks for dropping by,

Joe

Meandering through Louisiana and Arkansas (north and south respectively)

Its best days behind it, this old service station at First and Onyx streets in Stephens, Arkansas reminds us that time stands still for no one.

Regular or ethyl?

If you are long of tooth, you can remember this genre of service station. If you are not long of tooth, this is a part of your forebearers’ culture. The station had only two pumps, one for regular, one for ethyl gasoline. The concrete floors were permanently lubricated with years of ground-in grease and oil. The odor was of oil and anti-freeze. The operators filled your vehicle with gas, checked your oil and coolant and wiped your windshield. The only snacks available were allegedly cold Cokes and nickel sacks of Tom’s peanuts. This old station has apparently seen a few attempts at re-birth only to arrive at this state of affairs. That it has survived this long is a testimonial to its sturdy beginnings. It served well.

This tale of a trip started on the Photo of the Week page at Corndancer dot com, the subject of which is the town of Athens, Louisiana. While Athens, like a lot of small towns has taken its licks, the people are resilient. See the pictures and read the story here. a cool thing to do.

Remembering what’s important

Remembrance and respect know no geographic limitations. Spring Hill Community Cemetery can be found only after a trip on a gravel road. That does not diminish the sacrifices here represented. Only less noticed by the crowds.

Spring Hill Community Cemetery is well cared for and well decked out with flags commemorating Memorial Day. This cemetery in Ouachita County, Arkansas will never make the six o’clock news or the front page above the fold. The families of those here interred could care less. They continue to accept and keep their responsibilities, just as their parents and grandparents before them because it is the right thing to do.

Barn with tartan

This barn is a head-scratcher until you see the sign at the field entrance.

Somehow, you simply do not expect to see a barn with a tartan designed roof. Even less so in north Louisiana. East of Minden LA, the barn is at the entrance to Scotland Farms of Louisiana, breeders of registered highland cattle according to the entrance sign.

Thanks for dropping by,
Joe

PS: As you can see, I don’t make this stuff up. ))

The best of times for BLT lovers

These tiny yellow blossoms are the beginnings of plump, juicy home grown tomatoes. They will make a BLT you won't believe. These are back-yard blooms.

After a tortuous winter of choking down mushy,  flat-tasting red blobs erroneously identified as tomatoes, the advent of Arkansas home-grown tomatoes is a time to celebrate. Even then, the four month wait from tiny tomato bloom to a big bad bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwich  is an agonizingly long wait, testing the patience of  determined BLT lovers. This glory story for tomato aficionados started on the Photo of the Week page at Corndancer dot com. See those pictures and grab some tomato lore by clicking here, a very cool thing to do.

Progress in the back yard. Blooms and big brothers (sisters?) Someone set me straight.

While the backyard plants you see above are puttering along, there are some serious tomatoes nearing market readiness near Hermitage, Arkansas, the tomato epi-center of Bradley County, Arkansas, legendary for the tasty tomatoes grown within its borders. The field you see below belongs to Randy Clanton of Hermitage, a second generation tomato farmer who knows his stuff.

One of Randy Clanton's tomato fields near Hermitage, Arkansas. Randy, a second-generation tomato farmer is renowned for producing tomatoes that taste good.

Although not visible until you move some leaves around, Randy Clanton’s robust plants you see above are full of tomatoes about three weeks away from harvest. Take a glimpse at the camouflaged tomatoes here.

Tomato onslaught

For several weeks, these plants go crazy churning out their red globes of gastronomical delight. Harvesting at just the right time is a daily routine. While blooms and babies are maturing at the top of the plant, ripe fruit is ready to pick at the bottoms, a picture of natural efficiency. Legions of salivating fans anxiously await their arrival in produce sections around the nation.

Early tomato farming experiences

Randy Clanton recalls a time when his father cultivated his tomato crop with a mule, fed on corn grown in the elder Clanton’s fields. “He told me  on some of the first tomatoes he grew,  he borrowed $200 at the bank for three acres of tomatoes. By the time he was able to start picking and selling his crop, he still had $40 of his loan left, unexpended.” Randy’s friend, Bradley county businessman Kenneth Farrell, a former tomato farmer, revealed his first experience at tomato farming. “The year I finished high school, I had an acre and a quarter of tomatoes I raised. I had $125  in the crop. It was 1958 which was a ‘high’ year for tomato prices. After all my expenses, I was able to go to the Ford place and buy the best car they  had.”

Times have changed

Randy and Kenneth agreed that the price of tomatoes has not grown proportionally with what it takes to produce them. However, on Randy’s farm, it is easy to see that good farming practices and due diligence are the key, a good thing for us on the BLT end of this process.

What’s that large yellow orb in the sky?

Liquid lingers in south Arkansas. My thanks to Pat Patterson for the shot of me in my truck. Pat's wife, Darlene was riding with me. At this point, she was not trembling with fear and trepidation, but those conditions were not far off.

For the first time in what feels like months, there is no rain predicted in these environs for the next seven days. Nevertheless, the remnants of thunderstorms past linger in our neighborhoods. I joined my friends William L. “Pat” Patterson and his lovely spousal unit, Darlene in visiting our mutual friends, Jack and Linda Newbury in their home at Felthensal AR. Felthensal has been described by some as a small drinking community with a fishing problem. There may be some credence to this rumor. The community sits on the banks of the Felthensal pool formed by the Felthensal Lock and Dam on the Ouachita River in south Arkansas. The local waters are a fine fishing resource. In winter months, hunters descend on the community in droves. We took a swing around the area, looking at still flooded parking lots among other things.

Boys will still be boys. Reckon any girls ever do this? Hmmm.

Later on in the day, I found our next sign. This time as a two sided target. One side’s pelting is punctuated by exit wounds.

Thanks for dropping by,
Joe

The edge of wetness

Stuck truck

The abandoned, bogged down truck you see above is adjacent to a flooded pasture, pictured on the photo of the week page at Corndancer dot com, where this story started. Click here to check it out, a cool thing to do.

It appears that our hapless driver made a valiant effort to come out of the ditch, but his efforts visibly were for naught. Getting stuck is right up there with an IRS audit notice, power outages,  and flatulence that fooled you for those anguish filled,  stomach churning moments that make us weep, wail and gnash our teeth. Our condolences to whomsoever the driver is. We have been there and done that. But not lately, knock on wood.

On Mother's Day, 2009, the Saline River is lapping at the bottom of the UA Highway 63 bridge, north of Warren AR.

The truck is just a mile or so north of the Saline River Bridge north of Warren AR on US Highway 63. The river is well out of its banks and the rain is still falling. We will cross our fingers. Mother Earth is running out of traditional places to store excess water in these environs.

Close by is Bradley County road 96, off Highway 63. For the time being, it is suitable for marine transportation only.

Seeing all of this water brings to mind Johnny Cash’s classic “How high’s th’ water mamma”, also appropriate to remember on a rainy Mother’s Day.

Since we are unable to control the weather, only to control how we react to it, we continue to grin and bear it. Lord willin’ and the creek don’t rise (no more), relief will come soon.

Our apologies to our friends in Florida, the arid southwest and other sections of the USA that could use this water. Trust me, if there was a way to send it, we’d do it.

Thanks for dropping by,

Joe Dempsey

Rainy day solutions

What to do on a rainy day? Go out and see wet things, but first adjust your attitude. We covered a way to do that and we show you a couple of other rainy day pictures on Photo of the Week page at Corndancer  dot com. That’s where this whole thing started. Check it out here, a very cool thing to do.

Ud’n, ud’n!

Spray squirts from the truck as we hit the water covered gravel road at about 30 mph. Wow! Yippee! Ud'n, Ud'n!

Our trip took a turn down Lincoln County AR Road 2, a good gravel road. During a healthy rain, some of the road is covered by a few inches of water in places. If you have a pickup relatively impervious to water, a lead foot and a good attitude, you can make some spray about three times taller than the truck. I did it, grinning from ear to ear. You grow older, but you don’t have to grow up!

Someone’s ass is wet

This jenny (a mamma donkey) seems unfazed and could care less about being soaked. She may also think we're full of it for thinking that.

After the spray exercise, I came across a donkey, a jenny (the mamma kind). She was drenched. Thus, someone’s ass was all wet. She seemed to be taking being thoroughly soaked in stride. Some critters will head for shelter in a rain if it is available and some just don’t care. I like their attitude.

Ramshackled

If you blink, you’ll miss this now well camouflaged former dwelling on Mabry Road in southern Jefferson County AR.

A bit further north on Mabry Road in Jefferson County AR, backed up to a cypress-lined bayou, is this old cabin and/or house. If conditions were the same when it was occupied as it is now, one could probably have fished off the back porch … or at least a few steps from it. The rain and wetness add some drama to the appearance and the greens are much greener.

Man your paint cans!

These rail cars were obviously in one place too long and the graffiti artists made good their spray-can attack. Being an old art director (among other things), I can see some talented handiwork here along with some applied forethought as to appearance.

The reflections you see are in a “borrow pit” beside the railroad. The term comes from borrowing earth from the pit to build the road bet for the rail line. The common terminology has long since deteriorated to “bar pit.” I thought it was an epiphany the day I discovered what a “bar pit” really was.  For this image, the rain has stopped, but not before it filled the bar pit for these great reflective images, not available without, you guessed it, a rainy day.

Still yet, more sign perforations

One more in our continuing coverage of well ventilated stop signs in southern Arkansas. This one was smacked with a couple of big bore shots.

Boys will still be boys. As the inimitable Flip Wilson would have said, ” … the devil made me do it.”

Thanks for dropping by for a dripping trip.
Joe Dempsey