Jillian here. Happy April. One time a very long time ago when my kids were still at home, we happened to be on vacation at a friend’s cabin in North Carolina and there was a gem show while we were there. There are also a lot of gem mines in NC and we mined at a couple and it was a blast. I bought a couple of pieces way back then that I still wear.
This past weekend, there was a jewelry, gem and mineral show here and I went and had a great time. I bought a few things on Saturday and went back on Sunday to pick up another couple that I was thinking about. Luckily, the admission ($4.00) was good for all weekend.
I didn’t take pictures of the sun catchers, selenite bowl, and jasper I got on Sunday but here are the pictures of my Saturday haul. A Madagascar banded agate, a selenite egg, an Australian Opal necklace with white topazes, an ammolite necklace from Canada, and a jade money frog. You put a penny in his mouth. His back legs are crossed so the penny is saved and thus, you save money. LOL. I just thought he was adorable. I also got a little heart rock car decoration. So cute. I think it goes on the visor but mine was too thick.
It was so fun to browse and choose what spoke to me.
Jillian here. Happy February. Since it’s Black History month, I thought I’d share a bit of Pensacola’s Black History. We have a rich cultural history here for the African American community. My office is very close to the area I plan to focus on today. It is called “The Blocks or the area of Belmont and Devilliers Street. This is a traditionally Black neighborhood and played a big part in the music scene in the early days of the blues. Many, many of the famous singers you know made their way here and played their music. Sam Cooke, B.B.King, Louis Armstrong, and Percy Sledge to name a few.
One of the places I love to eat is called Five Sisters Café. In fact, I ate there yesterday with five friends (haha- no pun intended). It’s good old soul food and they serve huge portions. It is decorated with old posters from blues shows as well as old photos of the people who lived in the area. Long ago, the building housed Gussie’s record Shop. I love this old neighborhood and am glad it is undergoing some revitalization by the city but I hope they don’t take it too far and that it loses its character. Sometimes, revitalization can lead to pricing the members of the community out of their homes and neighborhoods. Let’s hope this doesn’t happen since there is so much history here.
Another place to eat there in “The Blocks” is Blue Dot BBQ. Basically, the menu is hamburger or cheeseburger with no special orders. You get it like it is. The other thing on the menu is ribs which you can get as a slab or sandwich. Chips and canned soda. That’s it. The whole menu. But some say, and I agree, it’s the best burger out there.
Another great place to eat soul food (which is in another downtown area) that has now been closed since we got hit by Hurricane Ivan is H & O Restaurant. I drive by there all the time and I hate that is looks so haunted now. I plan to set a story there since the building “speaks” to me. They had the best lima beans and country-fried steak back in the day.
I find it difficult to think we are in the third week of 2024, and even harder to believe that this day last week, was the day my family said our final farewell to my 97-year-old mother who sadly passed away a few days before Christmas. It was a simple, non-religious ceremony with only immediate family, lots of tears but also lots of laughter, just as Mum had wanted; she hated fuss. I think she would have approved both of what we did and the music we chose.
The last six weeks have gone by in a blur of emotional and physical stress I can only express as a surreal, out-of-body experience, however, I am finally back down to earth and moving forward. Through all that has happened, the support of close family and friends has helped us all come out the other side, for that I am extremely grateful.
Our Christmas was cancelled and in the suspension of time between losing Mum and the funeral, I kept myself busy by blitzing the house, as being away at Mum’s hospital bedside for most of December, trust me when I say nothing was done in the way of housework although Dave did his best in my absence. When bored with cleaning or stopped by him from doing more, the only way I could cope was by turning to my paints, although at times it was a struggle to stay focused and I nearly scrapped this one, but glad I persevered and finished it.
So, a new year, a new beginning in many ways. I am not one for making New Year Resolutions but I am determined this year to finish all those tasks I’ve started but yet to finish, particularly where my writing is concerned. I know I am ready to move on because I am itching to get back to my books. Moon Stones needs to leave the house to seek a publisher, and the next installments are tamping away inside my head, impatient to be let loose. Spring is in the air here despite the frost and cold we’re enduring this week. There are snowdrops and crocus in flower on our the lawn, daffodils in bud and many of the shrubs already showing new shoots, my garden boots and gloves calling, but they will have to wait a while before they are allowed out of the cupboard.
Meanwhile, a few more trips to Reading are necessary as there are legal matters to sort, signatures required on several documents, the bungalow to clear and put up for sale whilst we wait for probate. Then my sisters and I are going to take ourselves off for a much-needed holiday. We need it.
Jillian here. Happy January. Like Laurie, I didn’t know what to write about this month. All the New Year, New Me stuff bores me so I didn’t want to go there with this post. Instead, I thought about one of the things I like to do, which may sound macabre to some, but I enjoy walking in old cemeteries. They truly are peaceful to me and soothe my soul.
I took some pictures as I usually do on my visits and these four are pretty poignant to me. The cemetery is one of the oldest in Pensacola and it called St. John’s. It is pretty close to my office so I sometimes go there on my lunch hour. It is old but still actively burying people. Some are people I know.
The Perry family is a prominent one from way back in our history– both in Pensacola and in the state. We had a Governor Perry and there is a town named Perry on the other side of Tallahassee. The three graves here in the Perry plot make me sad as none of these men had a chance to grow old. William Allen Perry- even though it looks like he was born in 1844, it is actually 1814, but either way, he was young–only 39–when he died. George Perry–who has no date of birth on his tombstone, died at age 52 in 1862, so we can presume he was born in 1810. This makes me think these two were brothers except for the fact that William’s tombstone says he was the son of Captain George and Polly Perry and George’s doesn’t mention parents. Unless the parents were deceased by then so weren’t around to add their names. Which makes sense to me.
The other George Perry only lived 30 years, 6 months and 21 days. Someone loved him so dearly, they counted the number of days he was given on this Earth. I have wondered what was the cause of death of these Perry men? All very young. Of course, we know medicine wasn’t all that advanced and a mere infection could be the end of you back then. I also wonder if the George who died in 1862 was a civil war soldier, but I imagine he would have been old to be on the battlefield.
Salena Smith Wilson is buried nearby, but not in the Perry plot so she isn’t related to them. She was only 25. I imagine she might have passed in childbirth, but can’t know that. On the Findagrave website, she has parents and two siblings listed but not the spouse and no children. This doesn’t really prove anything as that site is one that anyone who signs up can edit. But I think about poor Salena and her short life and the husband who loved her.
I do enjoy my walks in the cemeteries. It piques my curiosity as well as stimulates my imagination. I’ve taken many a name from a tombstone as a character name in a book. First names, especially.
What about you? Do you like to stroll through cemeteries?
Jillian here. December already?!? This is a tree in downtown Pensacola in a breezeway between shops. Isn’t it pretty?
I have had a hard time since my mother passed away remembering her as she was before the change in her in the last months of her life. A good friend reassured me that what I was feeling was normal due to the trauma of those months that I may not have even been aware I was experiencing. This friend had a similar experience with the death of one of her parents and said it would take some time for the memories of my mom how she really was to return.
This week, I had a bit of a glimmer of hope that I would one day recall all the fun times and how much Mom enjoyed life when I was watching a show I discovered about a month ago that has been rerunning on our PBS station. It’s called “Celebrity Antiques Road Trip.” I understand this show still has new episodes in the UK so I hope for more of these as they are super fun to watch.
I think they are also available on Pluto and Tubi TV for free here in USA.
The premise of the show is that two celebrities team up with two experts in antiques and drive around in classic cars searching antique stores for items to auction. They each start out with 400 pounds to spend and, at the end of the episode, they take the items to auction to see who did the best shopping. The auction parts are usually pretty funny as they can totally bomb and it’s very competitive between the teams.
You may ask how this show helped me remember my mom as she was. She loved, loved, loved going to these kinds of shops. A fun day out for her was looking at every item in the shops. She didn’t always buy something but she loved to pick up the little things and explore. She collected bells, birds, wreaths, and other things. She was a magpie and absolutely had a blast milling around and inspecting tchotchkes. My sister went with her most of the time but I went too, on occasion. My sister would get frustrated sometimes with the touching everything Mom liked to do.
When I was younger, we went to the local auctions all the time where they auctioned small items as well as big furniture items, but they phased out the regular ones and we haven’t been in years. Mom would get so excited bidding, she’d sometimes end up with stuff she didn’t really want. She especially loved to bid on the boxes of things the auction house would pile together to make less sale lots. She enjoyed the discovery of what treasure might be in the bottom of the box.
Thanks to this show, I’ve recaptured a bit of my mom, and for that, I’m grateful.
Hope everyone enjoys their holidays this month no matter which you celebrate.
Jillian here. Happy October. It’s 6 am and 48 degrees Fahrenheit at my house. Should be in the 70s later. Bliss. We get a short fall here so I love it when it’s cool.
On October 8, 2022, Mr. C sawed up the tub in one of our bathrooms that we needed to renovate. I posted about it last year here. The floor was still the same as the first owners of the house put down and it was ugly. 😀 We thought it would be a month long project. Aucontraire. We had no idea of the trials and tribulations ahead.
One year later, after more cancer diagnoses, illness, many hospitalizations, two deaths (luckily, I stayed healthy—just everyone around me had medical issues), I took my first shower in the new space when the door door was finally up. It was wild to see it was on the actual one year anniversary. How crazy is that?
I haven’t hung any artwork yet but it’s not going to be fishing themed now. When Mr. C saw the new pictures I want to hang, he was sad and said, “No more fishing? Even the pole will be gone?” I said, “Dude, it’s been that theme over 20 years. We’re moving on.” 😀
Before:
After (we used the same cabinet—painted—and Mr. C made the countertop):
It was fascinating reading Lavada’s recent post about an author who, after numerous rejections from publishers, decided to self-publish and her book became a huge success. A New York Times bestseller.
It’s Interesting how we define success though, isn’t it? For many people just writing that book would have been success enough, and the authors on this blog know only too well how hard it is to write, get to the end of a story, and then make sure you have all your ducks in a row and all the ends tied so the story actually makes sense (says she, who is currently trying to make sense of a messy first draft).
I love quotes and found this one by Maya Angelou on just the subject of success:
How simple is that, and how incredibly profound. Of course, learning to like ourselves can be a lifelong endeavour, but liking what we do and how we do it is a choice, isn’t it? It’s having the integrity to be true to doing what you love and not be swayed by anyone else’s choices for you. Don’t know about you, but I’ve allowed myself to be persuaded (by well meaning people) out of doing what I really wanted to do many times in the past and have always ended up regretting it. This is still a work in progress for me, but I find that every single time I stick to what I believe deep down is the right thing for me, I end up feeling profoundly satisfied, and there’s a deep sense of rightness about it, even if it doesn’t end up working out the way I anticipated.
Hope that makes sense, and I’ve gotten a little off track about what this blog post was originally about. Success and how you define it. I’m not saying I wouldn’t like that New York Times bestseller tag at some point in the future, but as long as I continue to do the things that make me happy, write the books I want, and write them to my liking, then I’m on the right track.
And I couldn’t possibly end a post about success without possibly my favourite quote of all time by Ralph Waldo Emerson. AJ read this at my mum’s funeral, a fitting tribute to a wonderful lady who lived life to the full:
To laugh often and much; To win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; To earn the approbation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; To appreciate beauty; To find the best in others; To give of one’s self; To leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch, or a redeemed social condition; To have played and laughed with enthusiasm and sung with exultation; To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived – This is to have succeeded.
So how do you define success? What does it mean to you? Do you like what you do, and how you do it? I sincerely hope so.
Jillian here. It’s August already. Wow. This is going to be long, so feel free to skim….
My dad has always been my hero. He’s the strong, silent type and rarely says he loves me but I know he does. He has shown his love for his family every day of our lives. He had two daughters and if he was asked if he wished he had sons, he never swayed from stating he was absolutely proud to be the father of daughters. Neither my sister nor I were ever told we couldn’t do something because we are females. We couldn’t have asked for a more supportive father.
He served in the Navy for nine years and then federal civil service for thirty-one years. His civil service was around the globe in a number of hot spots, including Saudi Arabia, El Salvador, Columbia, and other places. He traveled extensively in Europe, Asia, Central America, and Australia. He was brave and never flinched from where the government sent him. He did say once, that when he landed in a particular country and the person greeting him at the helicopter to take him where he needed to go handed him two side arms to keep on him at all times for protection, he was a bit daunted by that.
If I had trouble with anyone, he was ready to defend me. Even calling our church preacher one time and threatening to kick his butt when the man told me I was going to hell for quitting the youth choir. A few years ago, I was upset with someone and he asked, “Who do I need to beat up?” It’s pretty funny because, normally, my dad is the gentlest of souls, but bother one of his chicks, and he can be ferocious.
He truly proved his heroism to me these last months. My mother had dementia and she was coping pretty well with it for about eighteen months. Sadly, my great-nephew, her oldest great-grandson, passed away after two weeks in a coma. The day the doctor told us he’d probably never wake up, she burst into tears and said, “I’ll be dead in a few months.”
That was pretty much the last day she was the mom I knew and loved. She spiraled into the abyss then. The dementia took over. She could still talk, eat, and take care of her needs like showering but needed help with some of it. Dad had been helping out with cooking and things for over a year, but as she deteriorated, he was doing more and more.
Her hallucinations got worse and he’d call me in the middle of the night to come as he couldn’t stop her from roaming around the house and inside and out the door into the yard. She ended up hospitalized four times with hysteria and dehydration as she’d stopped taking food. Dad would give her sweets as that’s all she wanted. It was to the point we had to give her something and milk shakes with ensure was her only nutrition on some of the days.
As she worsened, he was changing her Depends, helping with baths and basically all her needs. He was determined to keep her at home.
Eventually, he made the decision he couldn’t keep doing it as she kept sliding off the couch (she’d become fearful of sleeping in the bed) and he couldn’t lift her dead weight. At first, she could help climb up, but by then, she couldn’t.
We were able to get her into a memory care center. He went every day to be with her even when all she would do was sleep and mumble. She only lived seven days in the memory center, passing on the morning of the eighth day.
Dad truly showed how heroic he actually was with the loving care he gave to my mom in her last months. In the hospital, he was her advocate and at home, he nursed her as if he was born to do it. He’d taken care of his own father at the last stages of his life as well. From a man whose wife always had dinner on the table when he walked in the door at the end of the work day to a man who had to help that wife to her final rest, he was a hero. An absolute hero.
To my friends here at OTBF, you’ve all been my heroes too. From your support for me these last months to the emails cheering me on since my mom’s death, to the beautiful plant you sent, I thank you from the depths of my soul. You’re all superstars. Here is a picture of the plant. I will update as it grows.
Jillian here. Happy June. Juneteenth is a now a federal holiday (since 2021)—If you’re unfamiliar with Juneteenth, here is a link with the history. Basically, it’s a commemoration of the end of slavery in Texas. While the Emancipation Proclamation was signed on January 1, 1863, since Texas had seceded from the Union, it wasn’t really enforceable as there weren’t really any union troops in the area at that time. With the war ending in April 1865, there still wasn’t a way to enforce it until Major General Gordon Granger signed an Order on June 19, 1865 declaring the slaves free. The word Juneteenth was coined putting together June and 19th.
Dido Elizabeth Belle (LINK) was the child of a female slave in the West Indies by the name of Maria Belle. Her father was Sir John Lindsay, a British Naval Captain stationed there. John Lindsay brought the child back to England with him and had his uncle (the first Earl of Mansfield) raise the child alongside a cousin who the uncle and aunt were already raising. An interesting side note—Lindsay paid for the freedom of Maria Belle and granted ten acres to her in Pensacola where she built a home.
Dido was raised as an English gentlewoman and eventually married and had three children. A movie was made about her in 2013 and its called Belle. It’s very loosely based on the truth. LOL!
The reason I bring all this up is on Saturday, June 10, an organization I’m in along with the local chapter of the National Coalition of Black Women are having a Juneteenth celebration where we are going to a private theater and watching the movie, Belle, and then going to a place downtown named Adonna’s (link) which is a local bakery/café. We’re having tea there with assorted sandwiches (chicken salad, cucumber cream cheese, Southern pimento cheese), a macron, pastry, and a pot of tea.
We’re also going to hear from Margo Stringfield, a local researcher with the University Of West Florida Archeology department about her research into Dido’s mother, Maria and her connection to Pensacola. I can’t wait. It’s going to be really interesting to learn more. Check out some info here.
I’m really looking forward to this event. It’s a great way to help our community celebrate Juneteenth and foster a good relationship with another organization. It’s going to be a very nice day out.
Jillian here. Happy December. As some of you may know, I am a member of the Daughters of the American Revolution. My ancestors on that side of the family came over in 1690. We’re from the Gresham family in England with Sir Thomas and Sir John as two of our illustrious ancestors– they contributed greatly to the City of London. My ancestor, another Thomas Gresham, fought in Washington’s Army in the Revolutionary War. He was one of the brave souls at Valley Forge.
This past weekend, 14 members of my DAR chapter in Pensacola rode over for the Christmas tour of the Richards-DAR House. It is a beautiful home built in 1860 for Captain Charles Richards, a sea captain. It is 10,000 square feet of gorgeousness. It has a Baccarat crystal chandelier in the dining room and another in a bedroom, Carrara marble fireplaces and a cantilevered stair case, among other treasures and items of beauty. It’s now owned and maintained by the four DAR chapters of the Mobile area.
Since there is so much there, I decided to focus my post on the Christmas trees in the house this time of year. So, I am attaching those pictures here. To find more about the house, click here.
We had cookies and lemonade in the courtyard after our tour and then lunch at a local seafood place. An all around fun day full of love of history, Christmas and the company of friends.
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Author
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Over The Backyard Fence 