DCI

DCI stands for Dixon Correctional Institute, a medium-security prison facility located in Jackson, LA. You might recall from an earlier post that Jackson is where my friend and I opened up a flea market booth called Bayou Belles. Anyway, since Dixon is my last name, I wanted to get some photos of the place. For a prison, it's really pretty!

Along the road are signs that say DO NOT PICK UP HITCHHIKERS. PRISON AREA. Nowhere are signs saying NO PHOTOGRAPHS.

So one beautiful day on my way to Bayou Belles' booth, I tried to take pictures with my iPhone through my windshield. It is a pretty drive and I wanted to share that with you all. (Sorry for the crack in my windshield and bug guts, but if you live in Louisiana, you're going to have that. It's a given).

The road is curvy and I was having trouble driving straight and getting a decent pic, so I pulled off on the side of the road to photograph a huge pasture of cows across from DCI. There was also a nice gate and I was thinking that I could finally link up with TexWisGirl's Good Fences meme. Yay me!

I was in perfect bliss with my phone when suddenly I was startled by a man yelling. "YOU CAIN'T BE TAKIN' NO PICTURES 'ROUND HERE!!! THIS BE A PRISON AREA."

Ooops. :) Photography is always getting me in trouble. At least I haven't been thrown in jail. YET! I made my apologies and skedaddled, praying he wouldn't follow me.

Click the icon to see

fences around the world!

Fishing

Last week, my dad and I made spur-of-the-moment plans to fish at a private pond near his house. I drove up the day before and spent the night. We arose early the next morning and headed out. The day was PERFECT! Low humidity, mild temps (for the end of July), and a gorgeous setting. We were blessed. The sunburn I got wasn't a blessing, but a lesson learned for next time.

My dad setting up shop.

An Eastern Kingbird.

Daddy's first catch: a pretty bream (or perch...same thing).

Finally I caught one, too!

Side view of my prize. I was able to reuse the worm for another fish!

An Eastern Amberwing kept trying to perch on my line. I'm probably the only fisherwoman with
a huge camera and lens on her lap. The owner drove by in his four-wheeler and admired my gear.
He was so nice and I thanked him repeatedly for letting us come onto his property and fish.

My first bass!! Daddy said I was lucky to get it because the hook was meant for the smaller bream.
I told him I had just been standing there thanking God for the beautiful day when this fish tugged on my line.
He doesn't believe such things, but I felt compelled to share it with him anyway.

A pair of Eastern Amberwings hovering.

All totaled we caught twelve bream and one bass. Daddy caught most of the bream, but I had the grand prize and bragging rights of the bass. Next time we're going to fish with artificial lures. Worms and crickets are too messy and make me queasy. Daddy didn't seem to mind hooking them for me, but I felt bad that he did all the dirty work.

Before leaving we stopped at the pottery shop that the couple owns. We wanted to buy something to show our appreciation. I chose a beautiful round plate in green with a leaf embossed in the center. Daddy bought it for me which was very nice. He made me feel very loved on this visit, telling me how proud he was of my catches and my photography and how much he loves me. I'm very grateful to have these nice new memories to replace some of the old, unpleasant ones. My younger years were wrought with pain after my sister's death at age 3, and my dad didn't really enter my life until I was in my late teens. He paid child support, but I guess because he worked odd hours as a policeman, I didn't see him much. Anyway, it's never too late. One just needs an open mind and forgiving heart. God has graciously given me that.

Thanks, Anni!

Thanks Tex!

Rebirth

This time of year is so refreshing. Colors are singing along with the birds, buds are bursting forth in bloom and leaf. I love it. One day it looks like the whole earth is dying and within a few days it has new life again. A perfect illustration of the Easter season.

Along River Road in St. Gabriel, LA. last week.

The Rural Life

The St. Gabriel, LA area (actually Sunshine) is where my maternal grandparents lived and where I spent many of my formative years. It's located about 15 miles south of Baton Rouge. Whenever I'm feeling lonely or melancholy, I often take long drives there, sometimes remembering days of my youth, or simply to clear my head.

Below are photos from one of my drives on 3/31/13. First stop is usually St. Gabriel Cemetery to visit my mom, sister, and grandparents.

I took two different versions of this statue and couldn't decide which one to post.
So you get both. :)

Following along River Road I make frequent stops. As I'm driving, the levee is on the driver's side, and opposite are homes and pastures. Since Hurricane Katrina, Baton Rouge has become a little too crowded, and with the increase in crime, many are building very nice homes in rural areas such as St. Gabriel; however, I prefer the more rural structures. The unassuming, unpretentious life is how I was raised, and I hope that never changes.

I so wanted to get on the other side of this barn, but I was relegated to one view.

An enormous ditch and a barbed wire fence kept me from crossing over to get more shots.

As a youngster I ate meat from my grandparents' cattle and vegetables from their garden.
Maybe that's why I was so healthy.

Levee with an unusually large patch of grass below.

A unique live oak tree that looks like it's been knocked down by a hurricane or two.
Despite its challenges, it's still growing and thriving. Kind of like me!

I have updated my About Me page; the last paragraph in particular. Check it out if you have time.

At Odds

I had a very long post written, but decided not to bore you all with the details, so here is the condensed version: Once again I am at odds with the Catholic Church. It all came to a head last week when the parish priest informed us that we could not be accepted into the church until our prior marriages were investigated and annulled. Not willing to open old wounds, fill out paperwork that amounted to an IRS audit, and a $500 administrative fee, we walked out of the cathedral office with me in tears. But not before Double D had some choice words for Fr. Paul about the church being filled with pharisees. I wish he hadn't said that. I'm just sick over the whole mess. Sick I tell ya!

After the meeting, and still in a daze, I took off in my car driving up and down River Road. As I drove along I noticed beautiful pastures filled with yellow wildflowers. The earth really does laugh in flowers, and God's creation still brings me great joy. This was like a postcard from God, reminding me that His world is still a beautiful place despite my feelings of rejection and disappointment with the church.

This blurred frame is compliments of Steve Rich.
Thank you, Evelyn, for the link so many months ago.

The Catholic Church may find our 22 year marriage unworthy, but we know better, and we thank God that His mercies are new every morning. (By the way, I still love my Catholic brothers and sisters, and have talked to many who feel that the church's requirements are completely over the top, including Sister Cynthia!) Sorry if I've offended or made anyone feel uncomfortable. Sometimes I just need to vent.

Lamentations 3:22-23

Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed

for his compassions never fail.

They are new every morning;

great is your faithfulness.