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Last weekend my family- (me, Jay, Ruthie; my mom Dion, my dad Al; my brother Alan, his wife, Cheryl and their baby Annabelle) went to visit my mom's brother, Duffee, his wife Alatha, and all my cousins-Hayley, Shelley and Lang, all of whom are married, the former two having children, in Meridian, Mississippi. (That was a major run-on sentence. For you, Mr. Jones.) Meridian is where my mom grew up, met my dad, who was stationed at the Navy base there, and where my grandmother, Nanny, lived and died. Meridian is a place of fond memories for me. It was the place that never changed as I moved from town to town, growing up in a Navy family. It was "the South" to me for so many years- a steamy hot mosquito buzzing place with red dirt and people who spoke "Southern."

It was Nanny's house on the lot by the creek, the room across the porch, the green rocker, the dogwood in bloom. It was Nanny running out to greet us, waving her arms and laughing with excitement. I wrote my name in crayon in the wash house, beside my mom's name where she wrote in in 1960-something. I learned to love corn bread baked in a skillet, and sleeping in the back bedroom listening to the drone of the window-unit air conditioner. I learned to hate poison-ivy, the bane of the creekside ramblers.

My brother and I would bring our bicycles and tour the city with our cousin Lang. We'd ride around the corner to Shumate's service station and get IBC root beers and drink them on the curb. We'd pedal over to the Monkey Tree- which was actually two or three massive trees with the biggest wisteria vine I've ever seen growing up the middle and entertwining them in a million serpentine arms. It was the best climbing, and a wonder to look upon.

Meridian was walks up the Canyon Road after dinner in the steamy dusk with the lightning bugs coming out to shine. It was stories of my mother's childhood and my parent's first date. It was sitting on the cement couch and laughing our heads off, or dancing to Lawrence Welk with my crazy Nanny. It was 39th Avenue, Sno-Cones, Highland Park-the one with the carousel. My brother unearthing an old quarter beneath the towering oak that my uncle had planted when he was a boy. Meridian was the plaintive cry of the train coming down the tracks , it was sitting outside in lawn chairs until the bugs drove us inside.

It was good to be back there again. My aunt's hospitality and cooking are unmatched. My cousins' children are precious, and my uncle plays Bob Dylan and Willie Nelson. They live in a charming green house with a purple door. It sits up on a lush, ivy-covered hill studded with tall pines and one budding Japanese magnolia. The fire was lit and we sat and talked, and laughed and recalled things from the not so distant past. I didn't go by to see Nanny's house. My cousin said it was sad to see. I think I want to always see it as it was, so I guess I won't ever drive down 39th Avenue again. But I promise you it is in my mind's eye, clearer than most of the things I can remember. And Nanny and her love are always there waiting, with a pot of homemade vegetable soup warm on the stove.

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One place we did go visit was Booker's Antiques in Whynot, Mississippi (for real, Whynot, Mississippi). It's a short drive from Meridian and we used to go with Nanny to seek out treasures of all sorts. The last time I was there was probably 8 or 10 years ago, and I remember buying a teacup from Czechoslovakia and an old volume of Shakespeare. Booker's has changed greatly. The place is so full of stuff that you have to turn sideways to get through at several points. You can find anything and everything in there- beautiful pieces of furniture, not so beautiful pieces of furniture, china platters, pitchers, teacups, an iron eagle, stained glass, hurricane lamp chimneys, records, newspapers, dolls, shutters, a stuffed toucan, radios, bottles, paintings, rusted iron embellishments and on and on. It is frightening in its outrageous quantity. But also interesting. I will put some pictures that I took inside to show the beauty that I found despite the scariness. (I suffer through dial-up and can't post pictures together, I have to do them one at a time, until some hero in a black mask rescues me and shows me how to function better with my limitations. So bear with me.)