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.
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| 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."
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| 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!")
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| 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.
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| Garage Doors of Detached Garage - Notice how they are accordion doors. |
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| In Eudora Welty Gardens |
For more information visit
The Eudora Welty Foundation website.
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| Tile House Numbers on Pinehurst Street, Belhaven Neighborhood |
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| House with an interesting faรงade 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.
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| Tiered Cast Iron Fountain at Belhaven University |
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| Column with Corinthian Capital on Belhaven Campus near Fountain |
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!
