Eudora Welty House and Gardens, Belhaven Neighborhood, Jackson, Mississippi

Because I am blogging today about a trip to visit the home of acclaimed Mississippi author Eudora Welty, I feel obligated to actually write more than captions for photos.  Of course, photographs were not allowed to be taken inside the house, so words must suffice to document my experience. 

Path to Front of Eudora Welty House

As we approached the house to begin the tour, a couple was standing in the yard, and our docent tour guide asked if they would like to join the tour.  The couple looked to be in their early 50s and said they were from Houston, Texas, and would love to join the tour.  The thin, shift-dress wearing wife said she was an attorney originally from Mississippi; the husband was an architectural historian, hence the ascot around his neck.  In typical Mississippi fashion, the wife does a quick, almost unnoticeable, glance at the docent's name tag and immediately goes into pleasantries.  She is from the same small town in Mississippi as the docent.  In fact (or, of course), they even went to school together.  The architectural historian's face looks like, "Here we go again.  This was supposed to be a quick stop."

Eudora Welty House

The Welty House, a National Historic Landmark,  is a Tudor style house from the 1920s.  It had been updated a little in the 1950s, but primarily has the original features.  It is not a very decorative house, at all.  The finishes are pretty basic:  no fancy hearth or woodwork.  This makes the house appear handsome, if not masculine, which I suppose fits with a Tudor. 

(The only other author's house I recall visiting is that of William Shakespeare in Stratford-Upon-Avon.  It's a Tudor, too.  And, the house didn't leave anywhere near the impression as the line "Get thee to the nunnery!")

Front Entrance into Vestibule

The French doors to the dining room are missing in the Eudora Welty house, but the brass hinges are still there attached to the casing.  There is a curio case with treasures from around the world, including a tea set from Japan.  On the dining table sits a fine example of silversmithing  ̶  a footed bowl. 

At this point, the docent tried to be funny; looking at me he started talking about these round things that you used to use to listen to music, things which aren't familiar to young people these days.  Should I be flattered that he didn't think I was old enough to know what a vinyl record was?  Or should I pity him for just not being funny?   The point was Eudora Welty stored books in her record cabinet, not records.  But, she had a stack of records out on a nearby shelf.  Well, all docents are not created equal; he was not very good at taking cues from visitors that it was time to move on.  The tour took about twice as long as it could have, and I'm one of those people who loves to linger and spend extra long at museums.  But, honestly, the worst part was, if this man had any passion at all for the works of Eudora Welty, he could not convey it.  Seriously, when you see me talk about cookies, there can be no doubt about my love for them!  My eyes grow even larger than they already are, and I unconsciously  began an impish dance.  Coooookies!  Cookies!  Cookies!  Cookies!  Yah--ummm! 

The house has the original bathroom intact with 2" hex tiles on the floor and white subway tiles on the walls surrounding the tub.  The tub is one of those lovely cast iron tubs that swoops around in a curve from the  front side to the foot and then to the wall.

The house has all of the original tarnished brass hardware.  It is simple and masculine in style, like the house.  The kitchen has the original porcelain covered cast iron sink with integrated drainboard.  These sinks make the best art sinks in my experience.  Perhaps, that's what she used it for, because there was scant counter space.  It definitely isn't a chef's kitchen.  There are also several sets of windows that are too high for me to see out of.  They help fill the house with beautiful light, but I, personally,  like a view.  And, we know there is a view on the outside of all sides of the house, except maybe the side with the driveway.

Upstairs there were volumes and volumes of bound correspondence between Eudora Welty and her friends, many of whom were celebrated writers and artists.

Despite having books laying about and random things such as a swan feather from Ireland in a shadow box on the desk downstairs and an old bottle of rubber cement on the desk upstairs, the house just didn't have the feeling of life.  Maybe the Eudora Welty Foundation keeps the house too dusted and clean?  Well, the house definitely isn't haunted (if anyone was interested).  It's weird but the placement of the books, etcetera felt a little contrived.  This might be because the house is as it was in 1986, when she bequeathed it to the State of Mississippi.  This was on the condition that she be allowed to live in it until her death.  She didn't die until 2001.

Probably the best room of the house, is the side porch.  It is large and breezy.  I'd love to have an outdoor space like that.

Garage Doors of Detached Garage - Notice how they are accordion doors.

In Eudora Welty Gardens

For more information visit The Eudora Welty Foundation website.

Tile House Numbers on Pinehurst Street, Belhaven Neighborhood

House with an interesting façade neighboring the property owned by The Eudora Welty Foundation.

The Campus of Belhaven University (formerly College) is across the street from the Eudora Welty House.  There are lovely old oaks on this side of the campus. 

Tiered Cast Iron Fountain at Belhaven University

Column with Corinthian Capital on Belhaven Campus near Fountain

"The Lady of Belhaven" -- I found someone my size on Belhaven Campus.

For lunch, we dined at Sophia's Restaurant in the Historic Fairview Inn, and it was eventful.  My uncle decided to have a martini.  I decided to try a mint julep, for the first time.  (I'm not much of a drinker; and my preference is dark, woody red wine.)  Well, we are seated near the corner with the bar and can overhear the discussion about "never made a martini before."  I knew this would be interesting!  First, I watched as the hostess walked our drinks to the other side of the dining room, attempting to deliver them, and then walked back to us where she began. My uncle who apparently doesn't like olives in his martini, of course, received a martini with two olives.  I had these as my appetizer.  We are talking and getting hungrier and hungrier.  Warm yeast rolls appear with perfect little butterballs.  I consume mine; I am hungry.  Talk and talk.  I tell my uncle,  "We are not discussing politics," several times.  Finally,  I see a tray emerging from the kitchen.

And, I see it come crashing to the ground.  "That was your lunch.  I'm so sorry."  I'm so glad I had a really strong mint julep concoction and a yeast roll!  So, we talk some more.  At last, we are delivered our lunch with another apology.  Unfortunately and without an apology, my redfish became a catfish (one of Mississippi's top exports), but it was cooked nicely and had an excellent aioli on top, so I decided not to mention that it wasn't redfish.  I tried mussels for the first time.  I thought they were good, but I should try them again in a land where they come from.  The rice, however, was the texture of minute rice/pre-cooked rice.  I cook and eat a lot of rice and am partial to something with a nice tooth to it,  like good drawing paper.

So, my uncle insists we go to his house to have strawberries for dessert.  I think it's a lovely idea.  But, somehow, my idea was very different from his.  My mother and I end up at a gigantic Kroger in Madison, Mississippi, trying to find vanilla ice cream.   I stumble through what I thought was a grocery store and end-up  surrounded with enough kitchen equipment to furnish an empty kitchen.  Oh! 

Ice cream in hand; I'm ready to eat strawberries at my uncle's house.  He takes a plastic pint of them out of the frige and places it on the kitchen counter.

My uncle leads us into his office and shows us his brilliant inventory system.  He has sheets of paper listing all of his boxes, their corresponding numbers, and a list of their contents.  I sit down to watch.  My mother attempts to help him find a box with the correct numbers containing badges he received as child.  Fatal flaw:  The boxes are not hidden around the house in numerical order.  While they are searching the storage area off the garage, I realize the strawberries need to be prepared.  They are sad refrigerator strawberries.  I wash them, slice them, and realize they definitely could use some sugar.  I open all of the cupboards.  No, not artificial sweetener .  .  . So, I sprinkle them with a little Jack Daniels and drizzle on some honey.  Perfect.

How did I end up serving dessert at someone else's house?

Did you know you can outfit an entire baby's nursery from Kroger?
I don't know about the light bourbon in the mint julep I had, but I used some fabulous dark bourbon in this bread pudding recipe. It was awesome!