Jonathan’s a boob. Meg and I had offered to put the clothesline up, seeing as Rebecca has to go out into the garden to hang clothes on the fences where there are chickens everywhere. Anything you do here includes birds everywhere. I went into the house the other day and there are chicks squeaking and walking about. I collect them and put them outside, I figure I ought to give them some food and water while I’m at it, and what to I find in the bag of feed? More chicks, just eating and shitting right there in the bag. Lovely.

Getting back to why Jonathan’s a boob. So were sorting though piles of clutter looking for a functioning drill and drill bits. Miraculously, we found what we needed minus a charger. We asked Jonathan where we can find one and he says, “I’ve got an eagle scout coming, let’s leave the big projects to him”. Yea ok. I don’t quite see how this fellow would be any more capable. I guess it’s a man’s job.

Rebecca had mentioned bringing us to live music and readings at a local bookstore in Oxford. That’s a nice thing about Mississippi- every town we drove through had loads of individually owned stores. It’s so refreshing. It also gives the towns a sort of preserved-stopped in time feeling, which is pretty neat. We didn’t see any chain bookstores till we drove way south through Jackson.

So we went into town and Rebecca said she’d meet us at the church afterwords and do a reading for us. The church is a lovely little New England church, very old. The same church William Faulkner went to infact. Rebecca told us it was one of the few that hadn’t been burnt down during the civil war. She performed Shingles for the lord by William Faulkner. I was blown away- Rebecca is an amazing storyteller. Afterward she took us to a couple of graveyards and Faulkner’s grave- he’s a big deal here. We also got to see the site of a mass burial right on the campus grounds of Ole Miss. We talked about the civil war. I realized everything I know is from a northern point of view. It’s very strange to me that I’ve never heard of the civil war other than a unit or so in grade school. Here there are reminders everywhere, and it was not that long ago. Rebecca’s grandfather was a veteran, and she grew up with segregated water fountains. There are still a few of what Rebecca calls “honkey schools”-white private schools that avoid integration.

Later Rebecca headed home and Meg and I went to walk around the town square. We hung out at the bookstore for a while where they have southern literature and southern history sections. It was a good night.

The following evening Rebecca told us she had planed on taking us to a gallery opening and then visit her friend Wendy’s for a last hurrah before we leave the next morning for New Orleans. We’re all sitting at the tiny table eating breakfast together. Jonathan’s gone to Arkansas on a fishing trip, leaving this silly eagle scout without instructions. Meg and I delegate some chores, did a small amount of work ourselves, before we went town for a bit.

We all piled into Rebecca’s car to go into Watervalley for the opening- Rebecca, Eagle Scout, Patty Bell, Meg, and Me. While we were driving I noticed a lovely set of blisters on Eagle Scout’s hands, which made me smile. Watervalley is an adorable little town, we heard it’s like 1959 there and that’s pretty accurate. We get to meet some of Rebecca’s friends- really funny, nice people. Johanna’s there with one of Rebecca’s friends, who she’s been staying with. It was good to see her again before we leave.

It’s a pretty wide rage of stuff at the gallery. The main attraction is in the back. A man dressed kind of like a ventriloquist’s doll is performing-I’m not sure what. There’s synthesized/organ like sounds and strange astral projections on a big screen next to him. He’s standing in the corner doing something with his hands, something that looks like a little radio is in front of him. It all seemed a little eerie. There was lots of delicious food and drinks. Kudos on that, Watervalley. Brie and Chevre-so good.

We’re standing outside, the eagle scouts hanging out with us because he’s out of his element. He was polite and conversational. Turns out he knows all about the man in the back room. He was playing a Theremin, a strange device that plays tones according to what the musician does with his hands without contact. I’ve never heard of this, pretty neat.

Afterwords we all go to Wendy’s house, one of Rebecca’s friends. We take a long gravel driveway into the property, lots of trees-very private. Wendy’s husband meets us with a flashlight and leads us to the house. The downstairs has all glass panels so that you could see right in. All exposed wood, a stone fireplace, and very neat and cozy inside. Outside there’s a dark wood porch the full length of the house with a built in screen house. We sit outside in the screen house on cozy furniture, lit by candlelight. Wendy brings out the best goat cheese I’ve ever had and some grapes.

Wendy and Rebecca perform, a piece they’ve done together in the past. It was the story of Robert Johnson. Rebecca told the story while Wendy played the guitar. Again I was blown away. They were amazing and I feel so lucky to have experienced it all.