Remember that you are dust...

With the the start of Lent on Wednesday, many of us have begun a season of fasting and penance where we reflect on our mortality and the fleeting nature of human life. Earlier this week I had a visitor ask me if I thought Flannery's lupus contributed to her rather dark outlook on human nature. It's hard to say to what, if any, extent it did. However, I believe that the diagnosis of the lupus and the disclosure of that diagnosis had much to do with her choice of literary themes. When Flannery came down with the disease she was only 25 years old, an age when most young people (especially these days) still think they're invincible. Death isn't even on the radar. Not so for Flannery O'Connor. Since her father died of lupus nearly a decade earlier, the diagnosis was withheld from her as it was thought at the time to be the kind thing to do. It was during a return trip to Connecticut in June of 1952, however, that her friend Sally Fitzgerald told her the exact nature of her illness (Brad Gooch: Flannery: A Life of Flannery O'Connor, pp. 214-216). Realizing that her life was going to be cut short, Flannery went to work at once writing so many stories where death is a major theme - be it physical death (e.g. Greenleaf), spiritual death (e.g. The Life You Save May Be Your Own), or both (e.g. A View of the Woods). This post is not the place to delve into a topic that could be the subject of a book, but it is clear to me that O'Connor's acute awareness of her impending mortality profoundly affected her writing. Flannery, however, was not one to indulge in a glum moroseness. Instead, her stories reflect an artistic vision that is ultimately comic. She makes us laugh, yes, but also, and more importantly, O'Connor affirms that the human drama is a divine comedy. In the end, as the visionary Julian of Norwich said, "All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well."
- Mark

Censor Liborum

As luck would have it, during my retreat at the Monastery of the Holy Spirit last week I met a fellow retreatant who had actually known Fr. Paul Bourne, the monk who was the subject of last week's post. He shared with me some of his memories of Fr. Paul. For example, few knew (including this man) that Fr. Paul was chief censor for the Trappist order in America and was thus responsible for reviewing the manuscripts of writers like Thomas Merton prior to publication. According to one of the monks at Holy Spirit, "Paul Bourne was strict on Merton. He was finicky about any sexual stuff, and said that he had gotten some 'whining and complaining letters' from Merton. He taught us Church history on Tuesday mornings, was a litterateur, not a liberal, and had read all of Flannery's stuff. I think she saw in him a kindred spirit." (Brad Gooch, Flannery: A Life of Flannery O'Connor, p. 327) Fr. Bourne may have been Merton's bete noire, but he was such a humble man that he didn't think his holding such a distinguished position in the order as censor liborum was worth mentioning even to friends. As the above citation makes clear, and what my friend at the monastery reiterated, was Paul Bourne's enthusiasm for Flannery. Though he may have been taciturn by nature, when it came to O'Connor Fr. Paul wasn't a bit shy in telling others about Flannery O'Connor. He thought the girl from Milledgeville was the bomb.
- Mark

Bonsai Master

I'm posting early this week as I will be heading up to Conyers tomorrow for a week-end retreat at the Monastery of the Holy Spirit. Flannery O'Connor and her mother visited this Cistercian monastery just outside Atlanta fairly frequently and became good friends with the abbot, Dom Augustine Moore and many of the monks including Fr. Paul Bourne and Bro. Pius. During the early 1960s Abbot Moore and Fr. Bourne were regular visitors at Andalusia. A spiritual bond must have developed between Flannery and the monks for at the time of her death, Abbot Moore was asked to administer last rites. He and Fr. Bourne were also invited to participate in the funeral mass at Sacred Heart Catholic Church on August 4, 1964. While Flannery enjoyed the friendship of a number of monks at Holy Spirit, she was particularly close to Fr. Bourne (1908-95). According to a monk who knew him, Fr. Bourne "had read all of Flannery's stuff. I think she saw in him a kindred spirit." (Brad Gooch; Flannery: A Life of Flannery O'Connor, p. 327) Besides his friendship with Flannery, Fr. Bourne is remembered as being the monk who started the fabulous bonsai nursery at the monastery. According to the monastery's website:
Cistercian monks of the Monastery of the Holy Spirit have been crafting classic bonsai with an American influence for over thirty-five years. Begun in the mid-1960's by Father Paul Bourne, OCSO (May 2, 1908 - July 10, 1995), the Monastery Greenhouse became one of the first nurseries in the southeast to offer bonsai to the public. The centerpiece of the monastery's bonsai collection is a Kingsville boxwood (photo at right), one of the original eight trees of this strain developed during the 1930's. During his lifetime, Brother Paul (as he liked to be called) earned the reputation of being a true American Bonsai Master. His quarter century of highly creative bonsai art made him well known nationally and internationally. Born in Seattle, he early on established a lifelong love of horticulture. As a child of eight he saw his first bonsai trees while visiting a Japanese friend whose father had a small collection. Later he received an MA of Fine Arts from Yale University. He was an artist in many mediums including paint and sculpture as well as bonsai. His second exposure to bonsai was in Mainland China and Japan in the late 1920's where he visited as a student. With a love of both art and plants, perhaps it was inevitable that he should express that love in bonsai, which he always emphasized was a true art form in the most classic sense. At the monastery in 1963, Brother Paul built a glass and wood-framed greenhouse to house orchids, which he grew and displayed as a hobby. He also began puttering around making bonsai, although he had no formal training. The first "sale" of a tree happened one day while Brother Paul was away from the greenhouse. Upon his return, Brother Pius, who ran the small monastic gift shop, confessed that he had sold one of the "little plants" to an insistent customer. It was Br. Paul's favorite and Brother Pius had charged all of $5.00 for it. From this unlikely start the bonsai business began.For over thirty years Br. Paul sat quietly in the greenhouse, usually by the cash register, where he went about crafting beautiful bonsai. To any and all who stopped to look and ask he spoke of this lovely art form of creating miniature trees in a pot. Over the years he launched many, many people into the wonder of bonsai. Though formally untrained, he brought considerable natural talent and the ears and eyes of an always-inquiring student. Over the years he became a friend of most of the great American Bonsai Masters like John Naka, Yugi Yoshimura, and more recently the much younger Zhao of China. They received him as one of their own and visited here regularly to see and share their uncommon passion for the art of bonsai. It is an honor for the monks to carry on Brother Paul's legacy.
- Mark

Fordham Symposium & February Lectures

Many readers of this blog are aware that 2012 marks the 60th anniversary of the publication of Flannery O'Connor's first novel, Wise Blood. In celebration of this landmark in American literature, Fordham University will be hosting a one-day symposium on March 24th from 2-6 p.m. The symposium will consist of two panels with such notable O'Connor scholars as Susan Srigley, Richard Giannone, and Paul Elie. Unlike other conferences where the attendee must choose between many presentations, the format of this one makes it possible for one to attend both panels and hear all the speakers. At the conclusion of the symposium there will be a screening of John Huston's 1979 film adaptation of Wise Blood. For more information on this event and how to register, click on this link http://origin.web.fordham.edu/cs/O'Connor.shtml
Wise Blood isn't the only major novel celebrating a birthday in 2012. This year is also the 30th anniversary of the publication of Alice Walker's masterpiece, The Color Purple. In honor of this event our popular February Lecture Series kicks off Sunday with a talk from Dr. Carol Andrews, associate professor of English at Armstrong Atlantic State University. Dr. Andrews will compare and contrast the work of Flannery O'Connor and Alice Walker. This lecture is free and open to the public and starts at 3:00 in the Andalusia dining room.
- Mark

Hootie

No, the subject of today's post is not the chap pictured here whose band, Hootie and the Blowfish, was a pop music sensation in the 1990s. The man I am referring to was Flannery O'Connor's confessor, spiritual director, and among her closest confidantes (unfortunately, I was unable to find a photo of him). Affectionately known as "Hootie" to all who loved him, Fr. James H. McCown, S.J. was born in Mobile, Alabama in 1912, the eldest child in a large family. He graduated from Spring Hill College in 1932 and was ordained to the priesthood in 1947. During Fr. McCown's ministry, he served the church as a missionary in Mexico, Kenya, Tanzania, and Alaska. In addition to his missionary activity, Fr. McCown worked in retreat houses in Texas and Louisiana and authored a number of books. It was while he was assistant pastor at St. Joseph Catholic Church in Macon (1953-58) that he met O'Connor. Taken as he was with her first collection of short stories, Fr. McCown decided to drive out to Andalusia to meet the author. The two hit it off immediately, and Flannery later confessed that Fr. McCown was "the first priest to say 'turkey-dog' to me about liking anything I wrote." Besides being the priest she trusted most, Fr. McCown recommended O'Connor to Harold C. Gardiner, SJ, the literary editor of America, who published her essay "The Church and the Fiction Writer" on March 30, 1957. Besides turning to Fr. McCown for spiritual matters, Flannery also consulted the priest about literary concerns. In March, 1962, O'Connor was having serious writer's block and feared the well was running dry. She wrote to McCown asking him to pray for her. "I've been writing for sixteen years and I have the sense of having exhausted my original potentiality and being now in need of the kind of grace that deepens perception, a new shot of life or something." (The Habit of Being, p. 468). Some six years before Flannery died, Fr. McCown was reassigned to Houston, Texas, and though they continued to correspond, the two never saw each other again this side of heaven. It was in 1991, when he was on the road leading a retreat as he loved to do, that Fr. McCown died at the age of 80. Last week, Southern Cross, the newsweekly of the Diocese of Savannah, ran a story on Fr. McCown. The reader who is interested in learning more about Fr. James H. McCown is encouraged to check out this interesting article by Rita H. DeLorme (Southern Cross, vol. 92, No. 03, January 19, 2012, p. 5).
- Mark

Dazzling Designs

For the last couple years I've noticed a fashion trend among our female visitors to Andalusia. As a sign of their devotion to Flannery, or perhaps as a signal to us that they are die-hard O'Connor fans, some women come out here wearing peacock feather earrings. Because they are very "in" now, we decided to start carrying them in our gift shop. The ones we have were hand-crafted for us by J. Drexler Designs in Gainesville, Georgia. Each pair of earrings is a one of a kind creation and no two are exactly alike. Selling for $19.95 a pair, they are as original as the author who inspired their design and make a wonderful souvenir.
- Mark

Ring-a-ding-ding

Recently, one of our friends donated a 1959 Milledgeville telephone book along with a vintage phone (now displayed in Louis Cline's bedroom in the back parlor). The ads in the yellow pages of this directory are a real eye-opener and a sobering reminder of just how segregated things were back in the '50s. But I digress. The real point of interest is the listing for the O'Connors:
O'Connor Edw. F. Jr., Mrs.
Andalusia-Eatonton Rd. .....GL2-4335
Times sure have changed. For those too young to remember, in those days the phone in the house - they had only one - was rotary dial and owned by the phone company. Wondering about the "GL?" It was a mnemonic chosen by the phone company (in this case it stood for "Glendale") to help people remember phone numbers. Just as today, numbers on the phone corresponded to certain letters. Therefore, the O'Connors number was 452-4335. There were no area codes in those days and, hence, no direct dialing of long distance numbers. If you needed to make a long distance call, you dialed the operator. Calling long distance was expensive and rarely done. The other feature about phone service back then was that several parties shared the same line. It was possible that if you tried to call out you might get a busy signal if someone who shared your "party line" was using the phone. According to a letter Flannery wrote to Fannie Cheney, phone service was established at Andalusia in July 1956. She writes: "Lon called up the day before we got our telephone and that afternoon I went in and tried to get him...Our phone number is 2-5335. I run in all directions everytime I hear it ring." (The Correspondence of Flannery O'Connor and the Brainard Cheneys, p. 40). She may have "run in all directions," but according to a friend of the family it was Regina who always answered the phone, not only to screen her daughter's calls, but also to save Flannery the physical exertion it would have taken for her to get to the phone on crutches. At some point subsequent to this time the O'Connor's number changed by one digit. In a 1962 letter to Brainard Cheney, Flannery writes: "Our telephone no. is 452-4335 but it's hard to get us on it as there are 8 parties on it representing about 150 head, 2/3 of them idiots." (The Correspondence of Flannery O'Connor and the Brainard Cheneys, p. 160). Ah yes...the good old days of telecommunications.
- Mark

The Charming Cheneys

When Flannery O'Connor's first novel, Wise Blood, was published in 1952, it was almost universally panned by the press. One notable exception was a favorable review written by Brainard Cheney. Nicknamed "Lon" after the actor of the same name, Cheney was a literature professor at Vanderbilt. In addition to being a novelist and playwright, he is remembered today for being one of the first interpreters of O'Connor who "got it." Flannery was so flattered by his astute reading of Wise Blood, that she decided to write him and thus began a friendship that was to last the rest of her life. Flannery was also close with Cheney's wife, Frances ("Fanny"), who taught library science at Peabody College. Because the Cheneys owned a home in St. Simons Island, they would frequently stop by Andalusia on their way to the Georgia coast. Flannery also visited the Cheneys at their home in Smyrna, Tennessee and enjoyed the time with them immensely. O' Connor's correspondence with the Cheneys (published by the University Press of Mississippi in 1986) comprises some of the most delightful letters she ever wrote. My daughter, Mary, surprised me with a first edition of this book for Christmas. And even though I am just a quarter of the way through it, I must say that these letters are as good as anything in The Habit of Being. They also provide another glimpse into what life was like for Flannery at Andalusia. The reader of these letters sees her little peacock brood growing from 9 to 16 to 20 birds. Then there is the comical account of Flannery adjusting to life on crutches: "I tell my mother she had better take out insurance on me and on all the people I trip and kill while I am on these things. There is always something crashing now in my wake." (p. 23) Everywhere in these wonderful letters, there is the dry, deadpan humor Flannery was known for, as when she describes a bull on a farm down the road from Andalusia that had a bad habit of ramming pickup trucks (hmm...). The O'Connors' bull, on the other hand, was a more "contemplative" type. "His name was Paleface and he sat all day on a hill where he could look down and see the Fords go by on the highway. He is now tinned beef. We are going artificial." (p. 40) I could go on, but in the interest of brevity let me just say that The Correspondence of Flannery O'Connor and the Brainard Cheneys is simply splendid, and I would heartily encourage you to read it. The book is still in print, and while we don't stock it in our gift shop, a paperback edition is available from Amazon and Barnes & Noble.
- Mark

10 for '11

In the spirit of David Letterman, we decided that we would look back over the last year and share with you what we consider to be the ten most notable events and accomplishments at Andalusia for 2011. The following are listed in neither chronological order nor in order of importance:
1. Grants - in 2011 we received two significant grants to help us restore some of the buildings on the property. In February we were awarded a $120,000 grant from "Save America's Treasures" program of the National Park Service to restore the Hill house. This past fall we received a $10,000 matching grant from the Georgia Department of Economic Development and the Georgia Council for the Arts to stabilize the cow barn.
2. Cartoon Book - In January Georgia College released The Cartoons of Flannery O'Connor at Georgia College. This was the first time an original O'Connor work has appeared in print since 1979. Later in the year, the ever-popular Sanford House Cookbook was re-published. Both books are available at the Andalusia gift shop.
3. 10th Anniversary - 2011 marked the tenth anniversary of the Flannery O'Connor- Andalusia Foundation. The event passed without cake, balloons, or a whole lot of hoopla. Yet it is a big milestone for us and a tribute to everyone who has generously supported Andalusia for the last decade.
4. Re-opening of upstairs - Just in time for Flannery's 86th birthday, the upstairs was thoroughly cleaned and straightened up so we could re-open it to the public on March 25th. Thanks to our volunteers for their hard work.
5. Flannery O'Connor Conference and reception - On April 13th, the symposium sponsored by Georgia College, Startling Figures: A Celebration of the Legacy of Flannery O'Connor, kicked off with a reception at Andalusia. During the three days of the conference our gift shop did a robust business.
6. Restoration of Hill House - Much of the year was spent prepping the Hill house for the restoration work that will commence in early 2012. There were numerous meetings with the architects at Lord, Aeck and Sargent. Additionally, all the furniture and belongings in the house had to be cataloged, removed, and put in temporary storage PODS in the barnyard.
7. Ann Napolitano reading - On July 13th, surely the hottest day of a long hot summer, Ann Napolitano visited Andalusia to read from her just-published novel, A Good Hard Look. Though the book and reading sparked some controversy (especially among locals), it has been highly acclaimed in the national media and Ms. Napolitano couldn't have been more gracious.
8. Guineas - On Sept. 29th we acquired five guinea fowl from a generous donor. In preparation for their arrival we built a temporary holding pen behind the aviary. Sadly, after we released them from the pen, they were preyed upon and by mid-December they were all gone.
9. Loyola Conference - In October there was another O'Connor conference. This one at Loyola University in Chicago focused on the theological and philosophical influences in O'Connor's fiction. Craig and I were privileged to represent Andalusia. Besides enjoying all that Chicago has to offer, we heard some fascinating presentations. Who ever thought Flannery could be read from a Zen Buddhist perspective?
10. Attendance record - Last, but certainly not least, as we closed out our fiscal year on Sept. 30th we set a record for number of visitors in a year. For the first time since Andalusia has been open to the public, we surpassed the 5,000 mark. We thank all of you who visited the farm and made 2011 the most successful in our history!
- Mark

All is calm? All is bright?

Despite the serenity of the picture on the right (taken after a rare snowstorm in 2010), Christmas at Andalusia was not always the peaceful affair the O'Connors might have wished it would be. In this excerpt from a letter written on Christmas day, 1958, Flannery tells her friend, Betty Hester, about a major dust-up between resident farmhands, Jack and Louise Hill:
"Big doings here the other night in preparation for the Yuletide. Louise came over after supper and said she was afraid to go back home because Jack had the gun loaded and said he was going to kill her. He was eventually persuaded by my mother to bring the gun over and leave it in the back hall. After the liquor wore off them, they all calmed down and yesterday she gave him back his gun; but today, we had to stay home to make sure hostilities didn't redevelop. So far nothing. My mother gave them a snappy sermon on: 'thou shalt not kill during the Christmas season' when she she gave them their presents last night and I guess it paid off..." (Habit of Being, p. 310)

Since we will be closed for Christmas (Dec. 25-26), Craig and I want to take this opportunity now to wish you and those you love a peaceful holiday. Oh yes, our pea chickens - Manley Pointer, Mary Grace, and Joy/Hulga - want to add their greeting, too. Eee-ooo-ii! Eee-ooo-ii! (which in their language means "We wish you a merry Christmas!")
- Mark

Yule Blues

A slight pall was cast over our holiday cheer at Andalusia last week when two of our three guineas were killed by foxes or coyotes. The sole survivor of this attack got along the best he could, but he was clearly missing his comrades. He showed little interest in eating and just hung around the aviary for companionship. No longer did he come running up to me when I went out to feed the peafowl, as he and the others once did. It was as if he had given up on life. On Friday of last week I spotted him wandering around in the pasture on the east side of the house. The last time I saw him was when I was leaving work that day. Since then there hasn't been a sign of him anywhere. Craig and I think that he went off in search of another flock. All the same, I've been holding on to the irrational hope that he might return. I finally gave up today and took in his water container. While I can't claim that the guineas had become pets, I had become kind of attached to them and now miss them running up to the car to greet me when I drive in in the morning. The fate of the guineas did not come as a big surprise, however. As I've mentioned on this blog before, there is far more wildlife out here now than when the O'Connors were living at the farm fifty years ago. This was brought home to us this morning when we discovered the trash can in which we keep the peacock feed had been pried open by some critter. There was cracked corn scattered all over the place. We think the perpetrator might have been a raccoon, but the mystery remains. How could a raccoon open a garbage can, take out the bags of cracked corn without toppling over the can? To ward off a future intrusion we have secured the can with a bungee cord and hope that will discourage vermin.
- Mark

Just in time for holiday gift giving

I can't tell you how many times during the past year I've been asked if we had any copies left of the immensely popular Sanford House Cookbook. Regrettably, I had to tell these folks that we were all sold out and didn't know if we would ever have it in stock again. Happily, I learned this week that the book has been republished, and we now have plenty of copies for sale at the Andalusia gift shop. The reissue features a plastic cover, which will be much more durable and stain resistant than the previous edition. Everything else is the same - all those recipes for the dishes the O'Connors loved at their favorite restaurant. If, after reading Brad Gooch's biography of Flannery, you have a hankering to try the Sanford House's famous fried shrimp (one of Flannery's favorites) or their signature peppermint chiffon pie, pick up a copy of the Sanford House Cookbook for yourself or give one to someone you love for Christmas. It makes a wonderful present for anyone who may remember the Milledgeville eatery and misses its tasty vittles.
- Mark

It's Beginning to Smell a lot like Christmas

The day is bright, the air is crisp, and the Andalusia farm house is redolent with apples and cinnamon. In keeping with a holiday tradition, master muller Craig has brewed up a pot of his famous mulled cider. As delectable as it smells, his secret concoction is not for human consumption. It is brewing in a crock pot in the kitchen simply to delight the olfactory senses of our visitors and put everybody in the Christmas spirit. If you've never visited Andalusia now would be a perfect time to do so. Not only is the house decked out for the holidays (if you consider a wreath on the door as being decked out), but without quite so many visitors as we get in the summer, we are able to spend more time with our guests. Christmas is, indeed, the most wonderful time of the year on the farm.
- Mark

Leftovers

What you see in Tupperware containers at the right is what many of us will be having for dinner the next few days. I love leftovers, maybe even more than the Thanksgiving dinner itself. So today I thought I'd serve up some leftovers from a previous blog. A couple weeks ago I mentioned that during my two plus years working at Andalusia I've become more keenly aware of how death is the engine of life and that all of us - whether we care to admit it or not - are dependent upon the death of another creature for our existence. This pertains as much to the life of the spirit as to our physical lives. As Craig once told a group visiting the farm, in Flannery O'Connor's novels and stories there is no redemption without violence (think of the grandmother in A Good Man Is Hard to Find or Ruby Turpin in Revelation). I would take that even further and assert that in O'Connor's fiction there is no life without death, even if it is a metaphoric dying to self and rising to new life. Again, think of Ruby Turpin or O.E. Parker in Parker's Back where, at the end of the story, the title character is splayed cruciform on a pecan tree. Now this blog is not the place for literary criticism or theological musings. My purpose here is simply to evoke a sense of life as it is presently being lived at Andalusia and as it was, as they say, "back in the day." However, as a Catholic thoroughly steeped in the Christian narrative and from what she observed almost daily on the farm, Flannery O'Connor had an acute awareness of the dependency of life upon death, and this is certainly reflected in her art.
- Mark

Gobblers' Grove

To get you in the spirit things, I thought I'd post a picture Craig took out here several years ago. Sights like this are not uncommon at Andalusia during the late fall. Turkeys must know that they are safe on our front lawn. If I were a turkey, this is where I'd want to be, too. Lots of acorns on the ground and not a hunter in sight. Whether you're having turkey or tofu, we wish you and those you love a fabulous Thanksgiving feast.
- Mark

Such Sights Colder

Just when I thought the fall couldn't get any prettier, my drive into work today from Macon was simply breathtaking. The burnished beauty of the Georgia woods in early-mid November is something to behold. Most people justifiably marvel at the beauty of springtime in the midstate, but I happen to think that fall is our prettiest time of the year. As I neared the farm with the sun shining off the hickories, maples, and tulip poplars, I thought of Gerard Manley Hopkins' elegiac poem, Spring and Fall. Hopkins, by the way, was one of Flannery's favorite poets, and she no doubt resonated with this verse as she looked out her bedroom window:

"Margaret, are you grieving
Over Goldengrove unleaving?
Leaves, like the things of man, you
With your fresh thoughts care for, can you?
Ah! as the heart grows older
It will come to such sights colder
By and by, nor spare a sigh
Though worlds of wanwood leafmeal lie;
And yet you will weep and know why.
Now no matter, child, the name:
Sorrow's springs are the same.
Nor mouth had, no nor mind, expressed
What héart héard of, ghóst guéssed:
It is the blight man was born for,
It is Margaret you mourn for.

Alas, amidst the beauty that surrounds us here, life on this farm is a constant reminder of death. In the short time I've been at Andalusia I've become more keenly aware how death is the engine of life. All creatures, ourselves included, are dependent upon the death of another, for our survival (even if we're vegans). Last week, we lost one of our guineas to a hungry fox or a coyote. The night before last the same fate befell another hen. We are down to three birds now and are doing what we can to keep them safe. Admittedly, our options are limited.
- Mark

They're Back!

Redline Express, one of the hottest bluegrass bands in this area, will again be performing tomorrow at Andalusia from 5:00-8:00 p.m. Pack a picnic basket, bring a lawn chair, and come on out and enjoy some fantastic music. Don't want all the fuss? No problem. Hamburgers and hot dogs fresh off the grill will be available for a small charge. For those who want to soak up a little literary culture, the main house will be open and, prior to the concert, there will be a guided tour of the nature trail at 4:00 led by environmentalist Louis Kaduk. This is the seventh year we have hosted a bluegrass concert at Andalusia, and it remains one of our most popular fundraising events. If you are in the area - or even if you're not - I hope you'll think about coming out for a toe-tapping good time. At the same time you'll be supporting the restoration and preservation work we're doing here at the farm.
- Mark

Kindling Creativity

This morning we are hosting a group of middle school students enrolled in Georgia College's "Early College," a program designed by the university to serve at-risk children in Baldwin County. As I write, 51 youngsters have already toured the house and are now exploring the Andalusia property. They have been tasked by university student leaders with creative writing projects. One leader asked her students to write a short essay imagining what Andalusia will look like in 100 years. How will this place have changed if you were to visit the farm in 2111? It is a beautiful fall day, and the children seem excited to be here. After enjoying a snack on the grounds, they will soon be going back to Georgia College for lunch. This is the third year we have been involved with GCSU's "Early College," and we are happy to participate as it is entirely consistent with the foundation's mission of educational outreach. We hope that our "Early College" learners had a positive experience here and that they will be inspired to do more reading and writing.
- Mark

Guinea Gambol

As you can see in the picture to the right, our guinea fowl are getting used to their new environs at Andalusia. On Monday, we released the birds from their temporary pen. The first day they explored the farm, spending a good bit of the afternoon outside our office window munching berries. Later in the day we went outside to see what they were up to and were surprised to discover that they had wandered back into the pen on their own. We decided that maybe they were telling us something and that they needed to spend the night in the safety of the shelter. Tuesday morning we let them out again, and they have been outside the enclosure ever since. While they gobble up the cracked corn I strew on the ground, the guineas also enjoy foraging in the grass for insects and other tasty treats. So far, our little flock of five has stayed together, and this is reassuring to us as there is safety in numbers. Besides roaming around the perimeter of the main house, the birds have also checked out the the roof. They've flown up there only once that I am aware of, and it was a bit of an adventure for them. When they landed on the slanted metal roof they couldn't keep their footing and slid down it like it was a ski slope. Nevertheless, it was good to see them fly, for it gives us a tad more confidence that they will be able to evade potential predators. Hopefully, their gambol outside the pen this week will not prove to have been too much of a gamble on our part.
- Mark

Flannery in the White City

What a wonderful time we had at the Flannery O'Connor conference in Chicago last week! The conference at Loyola University featured some of the heavy-weights in Flannery O'Connor studies, and it was a pleasure to get to meet some of these scholars. The four days we were in Chicago were an absolute delight. The weather was sunny and warm, affording us the opportunity to take in Windy City sights such as the Art Institute, Frank Lloyd Wright's Robie House, and a good many other iconic buildings in this city renowned for its architecture. The site of the conference - Loyola University's Water Tower campus on Michigan Ave. (pictured to the left of the water tower) - provided magnificent vistas of the Chicago skyline. From our perch atop the 17th floor of Lewis Towers, we could see the John Hancock Building in the near distance as well as the other landmarks dotting the "Magnificent Mile." No trip to Chicago would be complete without sampling some of the city's gastronomic delicacies. We had some fabulous meals there, including a lunch of classic Chicago hot dogs on the last day. As much fun as all this was, the purpose of our being there was to promote Andalusia and further our understanding of the philosophical and theological influences in Flannery O'Connor's work. To that end, the Loyola conference was a success. While most of the presentations were first rate, the plenary address by Susan Srigley on Flannery O'Connor and Martin Buber was outstanding. What I enjoyed most, however, was meeting new friends who enthusiastically shared with us their love for Flannery O'Connor. Last and certainly not least, I would be remiss if I did not thank the Flannery O'Connor-Andalusia Foundation for making this trip possible.
- Mark