Things I'd Never Heard of #T

before I moved to Indiana.

1.  Pasta in chili

2.  Noodles over mashed potatoes; beef and noodles, chicken and noodles, noodles.

3.  Deep fried paper-thin breaded tenderloin (pork) sandwich.  Just say "the tenderloin with . . ."¹

4.  The terminal "a" in a place-name pronounced as though it were a "y".²

5.  Pineys³

⁸. 6.  Persimmon pudding.  Why didn't I know about this sooner?!

7.  Sugar cream pie.  Really?  Where's the fruit?

Although I had heard of basketball, I did not know it was a religion until I moved to Indiana.  There are two altars at which the devotees may worship.  Some are converts to the religion if they were born elsewhere, but most are born to the sect they follow.  Failure to worship at one of the shrines can get your Hoosier citizenship revoked.

The "Indy 500"  I had heard of it of course but was not aware that the entire state and all its activities were given over to it for an entire month every year.  It is billed as "The Greatest Spectacle in Racing" and every Hoosier pitches in in the attempt to make it so.

To our immediate south is Louisville, Not Indiana.  There the first Saturday in May is given to the Kentucky Derby which is denoted "The Greatest Two Minutes in Sports."  I could say that thousands of people gathered in one place to show off their sartorial finery and drink mint juleps seems considerably more genteel than thousands of people gathered inside a two-and-one-half mile oval to engage in a day-long beer bash. But to say it could well get my Hoosier citizenship revoked, for sure, and I have kept my nose clean as an Indiana resident for sixty years.  I like it here and don't want to jeopardize my standing.

¹The battle rages.  Whose eatery in the State serves "the best" tenderloin?  What condiments may be eaten on it?  Lettuce and tomato?  Mustard and dill pickle? and so on.

²This is widespread within the state.  "Jalapa" = Jalapy;  "Vienna" = Vi-enny; "Plevna" = Plevny; among others.

³I am not referring to piney woods  I refer to Indiana's state flower: the peony, which is pronounced "piney."  Well, by some people, anyway.

May in Indiana

 What a pleasant sight it is to see the rigs of old friends gathered together again.

 Just sitting under the awning sucking in the warm spring air.

Parked beneath a tulip tree (yellow poplar).  The tree

shed several flowers, scattered them about.  Pretty.

And now having ended our first outing of the season, we are back home again.

Thank you, Lord, for your bountiful blessings.

Bicentennial Celebration

In 1816 Indiana was admitted to the Union of the United States.  In celebration of the state's bicentennial a torch is being carried across all 92 counties.  Our grandson, David K. Lacy, is honored to be one of the torchbearers in Tipton County.  He is making this run today, October 6 on the 106th anniversary of his great grandfather Lacy's birthday and just one day before his own 31st birthday.

Five days ago David was promoted to the rank of Sergeant in the Tipton Police force.

My Indiana Home

One hundred ninety-eight years ago today Indiana became the nineteenth State of the Union.

Indiana by area is the smallest continental state west of the Appalachians.

Indiana is noted for corn, soybeans, basketball, autos, and motorsports.

And other things.

I am not a native Hoosier, but I am a Hoosier by choice.  I have now resided in Indiana continuously for fifty-five years.  It is home.

You can't choose where you were born, but you can choose where you live!

Happy birthday, Indiana!

Pork Time on the Square

Workers are driving tent stakes, moving bleachers, blocking off a fair portion of our lovely downtown area.  It is Tipton County Pork Festival time again and preparations are in full swing.

Festivities scheduled from noon, Thursday, September 4 until the end of Saturday, September 6, on the Square in Tipton, Indiana.

Think of this as my annual public service announcement.  Check the Festival website by clicking here.  More importantly, come and spend your money!

Motorsport

Indianapolis Motor Speedway

before its opening in 1909.

One hundred five years ago today, the first race was held at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway.  Over three days of racing, a driver, two mechanics, and two spectators gave their lives for motorsport.

The first "500" was run on May 30, 1911.

Hemerocallis fulva

We have several stands of orange day lilies, the common roadside lily, or ditch lily as some call it.  When I first came to Indiana in the 50s, one of life's little pleasures in June and July was to drive down the roads enjoying the massive displays of these flowers. They could be seen along berms, beside small streams, and even in some yards from time to time.  Some roadside areas were populated with what many called cornflower, which was wild chicory, and Queen Anne's lace.  These Delft-like displays of color often alternated with the vivid orange of the lilies.

I have a fondness for these flowers, whether aesthetically pleasing to my eye, or nostalgically pleasant to my mind.  Most people consider these lilies to be weeds, even referring to them as "noxious weeds."  Those people are seeing their apparent wishes to eradicate them come to pass, for with the growth of population, expansion of commerce and industry, increased need for more arable land, and especially the transformation of highways into freeways, and the upgrading of byways into highways, habitat for these flowers is shrinking rapidly.

The Hemerocallis fulva, scientific name for these lilies, does indeed have an invasive habit, and thus might be viewed as a weed.  (Weed: any plant that is where one does not want it.)  Certainly one would be unwise to plant one, just one, of the tubers anywhere near hybrid daylilies, for in a matter of a very few seasons, there will be only orange lilies in that area.  However, by dint of sufficient effort to dig away and corral the rascals in the desired location, they become lovely flowers.

The Midwest in my mind's eye, viewed on a leisurely drive along an eighteen-foot road, today exists only in the memories of those who experienced it long ago, or in the fertile imaginations of east coast city-dwellers who think that we still live in the stone age out here.

Reporting from Perfect, Indiana, this is your fly-over country correspondent, Buford Bumpkin.

Street Vendors

Atlanta, a village some six miles to the south, is a quaint  place with a number of beginning-of-the-twentieth-century buildings in the business district, but few businesses to occupy them.  But the people valiantly soldier on, making an effort to keep their place attractive.

For the past forty years, the last Saturday and Sunday of September (or thereabouts) have been dedicated in this town to "The Earth Festival."  It is, of course, another small-town Indiana street fair, hosting vendors from miles around.  We have attended, at least one year in the past, when we had to walk through driving snow to get back to where we had parked our car.  This year, though, was perfect, weather-wise, for the sun shone brightly on the festival, the temperature was pleasant, and a good time was clearly being had by lots of people.

BBBH and I rode the scooter to Atlanta, walked the streets, and in her case, the lady talked to some of the vendors, and yes, bought stuff.  But no more stuff than we could carry home on the scooter.

 Like fruit flies to pears on the ground, people seem to be attracted to cheaply-made and over-priced merchandise.  Find Waldo?  No, find BBBH.  She is in this picture.*

Some of downtown Atlanta's old buildings seen here behind the street vendors.

 People are also attracted to over-priced junk food.  There were actually lines at some food stands.

 As I snapped this shot, I thought, "This will be the best picture of the day."  I think it is.  This residence is on the Tipton County side of County Line Road and just two blocks from "downtown."  There is a kid peeking through the curtain of the window, stage right.

Someone  always seems to have a set of old wheels.

*BBBH is just about to disappear behind the utility pole in the center of the picture.