Springtime in Alabama...

I like to think that Spring is my favorite season in the South. The wild flowers and clover take over the land, and the temperatures are a mild 80 degrees. I like to think that this is the time of year to host garden cookouts and sit outside in the Adirondack chairs until the last bit of sunlight each day disappears later and later each day. But, see, here's the truth of it--I somehow forget, until Spring in the South is upon me again, that the entire season is a matter of dodging tornados and praying that your home and your loved ones are not destroyed by "the big one."

When I was a child, the excitement of hearing the sirens revving up, grabbing the candles and my favorite stuffed animal and running down to the dirt cellar of our 1916 Victorian house was thrilling! I'd curl up in my father's arms, my old-fashion cotton nightgown smudged with dirt and the sickly sweet smell of mildew in my nostrils. (I think my secret love of the faint scent of mildew reminds me of my childhood Springtime moments in that cellar.) I can't remember how my parents reacted to it. I can't remember if they were scared. I like to imagine they were cool and confident about the matter, not worrying about falling tree limbs and roofs being ripped from houses, and the insurance claims to be filed. I like to imagine that they were caught up with me and my sister in our primitive game in that dirt cellar with candles and old-fashion night gowns. In those times in the cellar, we only mattered to each other.

If you're truly from the South, your childhood memories are riddled with tales of that "big twister of year-such-n-such." I'm sitting here now, in this wild digital era (is that term outdated yet?), blogging to you while I watch the warnings and the skies gradually turn black. I'm watching the weather reports and the damage reports of my surrounding cities. It's heading this way. My home has no cellar and I'm not wearing any old-fashion nightgown. I'm hoping my husband gets home from work before it hits, and that my father's building in Cullman wasn't part of the damage I'm hearing about in the reports. They're telling me it's gonna hit Birmingham in nine minutes. I'm not as fatalistic as I was a few years ago, but I don't like NOT having a place to go hide. Give me a mildewy cellar in this Alabama Springtime.

I guess that's it for now. I've got to get my dogs on their leashes and go duck my head in my 2 square foot "hallway."

Springtime is here.

Beloved Curiosity: Southern Accents Architectural Antiques

I grew up in a little country town in North Alabama, called Cullman. It was a small town with gorgeous Victorian and Georgian and Arts and Crafts homes. The downtown was comprised of a few square blocks with an appliance store that still flies brightly colored balloons and streamers outside its doors, a German toy store that sells lederhosen and nesting dolls, and a bakery, The Duchess, that to this day sells 40cent cookies.

One of those city blocks houses a great hidden treasure of the nation--Southern Accents Architectural Antiques. Housed in the 1901 county undertaker's building (the brick exterior still visibly read "UNDERTAKER") are the door knobs, claw-foot tubs, carved mantles, chandeliers, hardware, windows, and more of eras long passed.

Family-owned, Southern Accents is a mecca for the architecturally obsessed. People fly from around the country to peruse the building that still has the original wood floors and piping from the old Undertaker.

They have an extensive Web site catalog of current items at www.sa1969.com. But nothing compares to going there yourself and exploring, though they do ship anywhere...

If you are in Alabama and looking for a nice day trip in this beautiful Springtime weather, you'll find Southern Accents north of Birmingham on I-65 and south of Hunstville on I-65.

Their address is: 308 2nd Ave. S.E.
Cullman, Al 35055

Here are a few photos I took a couple weeks ago when the husband and I stopped in for a visit.










And here are a few photos from Southern Accent's Web site, of current items they have in stock...

LEFT: cast iron sink, $1450.
RIGHT: terra cotta from a building in Chicago (set of 5), $275 each.


double arch beveled and colored rondels stained glass, 14.5"x60," $850.


LEFT: leaded glass windows, 20"x29," $235/pair.
RIGHT: crystal chandelier, 35"x18," $1250.



LEFT: heartpine half mantel, 58'x50," $375.
RIGHT: pine full mantel, 62"x79," $2750.


LEFT: set of gates, 56"x90," $950.
RIGHT: oak gothic-style door, 34.5"x80," $900.


cast iron entry gate, 9' in middle/7' on sides/14' wide, $2850/set


LEFT: heartpine double doors from Chicago, both sides stained, 30"x8,' call for inquiry.
RIGHT: pine door with window with strap hinges, 79"x36," $1850.


cast aluminum benches and chairs, many styles to choose from, call for inquiry.


folding pews, all stained w/metal ends, from an 1887 church in Shelbyville, TN
10' long, 30 benches total, $525 each.


LEFT: overview of window sashes in stock, $15 each.
RIGHT: Providential Tile Works, Trenton, NJ, 6"x6," $45 each.


For more information, give the Gudger family a call at Southern Accents. Or just drive up there. You can walk around, take some photos, and get a 40 cent cookie at the Duchess.

Snow fell on Alabama...

What a weekend we had here in Alabama!! It seems like when I was a child, my memories of growing up in Alabama were framed by winters of light snows, sledding, snowball fights, and hot chocolate by a fireplace. However, it's been around ten years since we have seen more than an inch or so of that beautiful white fluff. Our meteorologists haven't come off as the brightest people this year, interrupting hours of regular programming over the past few months with the promise of hail, tornado, flood, frost, and snow--and it never ever happens. So when Saturday rolled around and every news station urged people to prepare for a snow storm, I just did not believe them. In the early hours of Sunday morning, as the husband and I caught up with old friends on the patio of the Garage, there was still no snow. I still did not believe. We got home around 2AM and fell asleep, stifling our secret desperate hope for snow just so we wouldn't be disappointed in the morning.

Well, along comes morning...and the most snow that I've seen in years!! We quickly bundled up and took to the neighborhood streets with our dogs, Pagoda and Blue. They played for a bit with the new neighbors' baby Husky. All of a sudden it was white out conditions; the snow was falling so hard and fast and the wind was blowing so fiercely, Pagoda got lost. We found him shortly thereafter, but I was soaked through.

We took a break, warmed up in the comfort of our toasty living room, ate coffee cake, and bundled back up to do it all over again--with leashes on the dogs, of course.

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Everything was fabulous! I even joked to our neighbor about my amazement that our neighborhood (notorious for power loss) still had electricity. And then we walked home...and our power went out!!! Normally, we would brave the loss. But my husband was on his last day of recording an album for NPR's Record Production Month challenge. He had to record 10 songs...and we HAD NO POWER. After breaking down and loading up all the recording gear about ten times, trekking to several different locations to find a quiet, well-powered room, two minor mental breakdowns, and one exploding car (seriously, I saw a car BLOW UP), he finished the record!! It was 1 in the morning, but it was recorded, dumped from the four-track, and mastered (thanks to record producer extraordinaire, Les Nuby).

It was a wild weekend and fabulous just the same. The snow is long gone, and we are sad. But I'm sure we will see it again...in the year 2019.