Oxford is a great place to visit!

A week or so ago, I struck out for Oxford, Mississippi, to see what the town was like. Home to Ole Miss and Rowan Oak, which is William Faulkner's home, Oxford is a delightful town around the same size as Sedalia, but with a thriving downtown square that hosts several restaurants, local shops, and a two-story bookstore that sponsors book signings and author lectures. In fact, the weekend I visited, the sole surviving Faulkner was scheduled to talk about her new book, which she had written about the family and the lovely old home that is Rowan Oak. I will detail my visit to Oxford more thoroughly in my article for 417 Magazine, which will be published later this year, but suffice to say here that I stayed in a lovely hotel, ate lots of good food, shopped 'til I dropped, saw the building where James Meredith was housed at the University of Mississippi when the Universtiy was integrated, and enjoyed the gentility of southern manners for an entire weekend. Go there. You'll have a good time.

Spring Break and Oxford

I am excited because today is my last day in class before spring break, and I leave this afternoon to start a long weekend in Oxford, Mississippi. I will be writing a travel article about what Oxford has to offer, and I have heard already from one of my travel companions that Oxford offers catfish. Wherever this place is will have to work hard to compete with or beat Fred's Fish House in Mammoth Spring, Arkansas, but I am willing to give it a try AND be fair in my assessment.

I am traveling with my "oldest" friend, who has known me from the time we were in diapers, and my "oldest" friend from the newest part of my life - the part in Sedalia. I know the two will get along famously, and that we will have a good time.

At this point, I plan to write about the literary part of Oxford, which includes a very old book store, John Grisham, and most important, William Faulkner; however, I cannot leave food and drink out of the mix. I will be eating three meals a day, which will add inches to my waistline, I am sure, but what the heck? It's all for my fledgling writing career! Inches cannot be a deterrent!

Our plan is to trek down south toward my home town, Thayer, Missouri; then toward Memphis; and then into Oxford. We will be staying at an Oxford institution, and exploring the square. The funny thing about Oxford is that it is about the size of Sedalia - about 20,000 people. The University, I have read, doubles the size of the town to about 38,000. What is most interesting about that factoid is that Oxford has a town square that is vital and booming, whereas Sedalia has to fight to keep people downtown.

I have also read that Oxford has been rated a great place to retire. While I am not ready to retire (am I'm not sure I ever will be), I will be looking around to gauge the general age of the population. I wonder if I will find a pocket of young people (students) and a pocket of people older than I (retirees)? "Let it be a mystery. . ." (Up the Down Staircase).

The South has some fabulous old homes and wonderful gardens, and I hope that this week's warmer temperatures will let us have a beautiful trip as well as a tasty one! I will let you know what I find.

Is it possible? Spring is almost here!

I hate to continue talking about the weather, but this past winter has been extremely, well, extreme. I admit to having enjoyed the snow, especially on the days when Max and I couldn't get out of the house. I felt somewhat like Laura and Mary in the Little House series; when I read those books, especially the ones that dealt with winter, I wondered what it would be like to see nothing but snow for such a long time. This year, I found out!

Then after the snows, I felt as if I would be permanently depressed because of the cold, damp, gray air that pushed through even the warmth of the "growing and framing" fire in the fireplace. I have been looking fervently and with dedication for the signs that erupt to comfort me every year, telling me that the long winter will soon be over: budding grape hyacinths, brilliant yellow forsythia's wildly waving arms, pink spears that push up through the vinca and mulch to become pink and white peonies, tips of pointy green variegated leaves leading the way for the coral tulips to herald Easter's coming yet again. The signs, though, have so far remained hidden.

And then yesterday, when the sun was out and the air was warm and welcoming, I saw one of the signs - not one I was looking for, but one that nevertheless told me that spring was going to be here soon. I saw weeds - flowering weeds. Even that made me happy! And then I looked a little more closely and saw the tulip leaves, and a lump in the ground that portends sweet-smelling hyacinths. The peonies are still underground, but I know they are there. I can wait for a while.

Spring and Easter remind me of each other. They signify resurrection and rebirth after a long and dreary winter, and a resurgence of hope for the sore human heart.

So now, I wait somewhat impatiently for what I know is to come, and hope that I will enjoy every bit of it when it arrives.