Lazy Acres North Rotating Header Image

New Logo

Lazy Acres North Logo

We conducted a design contest a few weeks ago to define a new identity for the site.  Below is the winning design in case you’ve missed it.  Of course we only posted on Facebook so most likely it hasn’t been viewed by many.

This was one of the first logo concepts presented to us over the 7-day contest on 99designs.com.  The tree was an instant hit and immediately had positive feedback from the majority of those who helped make the pick.

The original Lazy Acres tucked away in Gandy’s Cove of Morgan County, Alabama had many fruit trees.  There was a small apple orchard.  Peach, nectarine, and plum trees were also on the farm.  There was one lone pear tree that never seemed to bear fruit.  Three gigantic pecan trees provided thousands of nuts each year if you could collect them all.

In the BBQ world, fruit trees are used for many different applications of smoke.  Apple, cherry, pecan, and peach woods are used on about every kind of protein.  We’ve smoked with apple a few times.  Cherry tends to be our favorite.

Everyone can look at a tree and uncover something different.  Other than fond family memories and BBQ adventures, words like growth, opportunity, choice, care, strength, and sustainability come to mind.  The new site will incorporate some of these themes.

Stay tuned…

Warren Haynes Band: Charlottesville

Warren Haynes Band

We were unable to secure tickets to Dave Matthews and Tim Reynolds’ charity concert in Charlottesville on August 20.  We did score tickets to see the Warren Haynes Band at the Jefferson Theatre and were still able to donate our purchase to a charity of our choice.  Kudos to the bands for donating their pay through JustGive.org.

Before we could decide how we would use our four tickets, our friend at the Woodside decided to make the trip up for some Central Virginia entertainment.  As usual the Woodside beat us to the punch in writing a recap of the weekend.  We like it and will ride its coattails. We offer only a few views from our side of the river here in Richmond:

We are lovin’ us some Warren Haynes Band.  The soulful combination of  band members Ruthie Foster, Nigel Hall, Ron Holloway, Terence Higgins and Ron Johnson compliment Haynes’ rockin’ blues play marvelously.  The band can rock, can pump out old school soul, and caress an audience like classic Otis Redding.  There’s a driving calm to the music.

The Jefferson Theatre was a great place to see the band too.  All the sound stayed in the venue.  Not a note was missed, an interaction of band members overlooked.  The intimacy of the experience is one I don’t think I’ll forget.

And yes, it was not a shock to see Dave Matthews and Tim Reynolds join the band on stage for the encore.  In fact we were expecting it knowing the three have played together often.  We witnessed the magic of Haynes joining DMB in Atlantic City in June.  What was surprising was the interaction of the band members with Dave and Tim as if they had been playing all summer.

We can’t wait to see the band again in Richmond.  The National is playing host on 10/7.  Any bets on guests joining the band for a song or two?

Come On Irene

Gulf Shores Hurricane sunset

Like an undesired relative Hurricane Irene showed up in Richmond on time Saturday.  She seemed to stay forever and then sensing she wasn’t wanted, vanish as quickly as she came.  We (me and the kitties) made it through.

We were lucky.  Some of our neighbors were not.  Three monster trees fell over five lots across the street taking down power lines with them.  The home owners were fortunate their houses were spared.  Some vehicles had foliage in places manufacturers didn’t envision but there were no injuries.  Homes and many more cars just within blocks of us were crushed.  Power was fully restored 124 hours later.

Storm Saturday was full of emotion.  The day started with a run to Home Depot to get a few supplies.  I witnessed price gouging first hand as prices were literally being marked up while I was shopping.  The marketing whores of Home Depot also had generators bundled with accessories on pallets.  That kind of pissed me off all while marveling at the capability of Home Depot’s supply chain.

As the storm rolled in we were glued to Twitter and the television.  The Richmond hash-tag was the source for storm news and happenings.  As the winds increased, trees toppled over and the power started to go out around the city. Richmonders provided the play-by-play via social media.  When I became light-less there was plenty of communication through a mobile app.

As evening approached with winds gusting at tropical storm strength, trees started falling.  Back in the swamp I saw two trees fall over as if they were being filmed in the next Steven Spielberg alien flick.  Then I heard others in all directions of the house.  “When are we next?”, I kept asking.  A nutty neighbor got his chainsaw out to cut a tree at the height of the storm.  Another nutty neighbor risked his life to go out and encourage nut one to get out of the storm.  Yes I watched the two from inside my doorway.

From the master bedroom I watched the storm for hours.  Occasionally a cat would drop by to check on me.  It was surreal.  I couldn’t help but think of Dad.

Around 1979 we took a camping trip to our #1 vacation spot Gulf State Park on Alabama’s Gulf coast.  I say “around 1979″ because I honestly can’t remember the year.  My parents were divorced so it was just Dad, me, a brother, and a friend.  We knew a hurricane was looming in the Gulf but we decided to go anyway. It was an annual trip!

Only a day or so after our arrival we woke up to fierce winds tearing the tent side to side.  We hurled our bodies against the walls to keep the tent up.  I had to pee.  I did only what we could do: hold the door open and aim as best as I could.  Aiming against the wind, my urine ended up on my brother who was holding the door.  (Insert Bob Seger reference here.)

We bailed on the tent and headed into town to find the “W” on the Waffle House blown away. The 24-hour breakfast joint was open and we went in.  Afterwards we discovered our tent too damaged to finish the trip.  Even though the camping trip was cut short that year, it remains the most memorable of all my camping trips.  Dad and me must have told that story a thousand times.

As night fell we thought of Mom.

I was on a plane back to Auburn from San Francisco in 1992 when I learned of a hurricane called “Andrew”.  By the time I had landed in Atlanta and driven back to Auburn, the storm was making landfall south of Miami.  A few days later, the same brother that I sprayed with urine a decade earlier telephoned to tell me “Mother is ok.”  It turned out she and her husband survived Andrew moving room-to-room as their house came down around them.  They survived in their garage for a week before the National Guard showed up with supplies.

Tracey and the girls managed to miss all the excitement.  We kept them up to date through text messaging.  They returned home to no power.  Yet, thanks to a generator they did have TV, cold water, ice, and of course the Internet.  Luxuries countless of other storm victims of Irene and other storms didn’t have.

We’re giving thanks this week.  We’re thankful for the many memories past adventures have given us, of the family we’ve had to share those adventures with, and of course thankful to have the chance at making many more memories. And we’re thankful Irene dropped in to help us with our appreciation.

Cheers.

 

Trump’in DMB

Rehoboth Beach

A few months removed from DMB’s Atlantic City show, I finally got around to downloading and editing a few pictures from the phone.  I think the photo set catches the highlights of the trip for us.  Tim did a great job summarizing all three days too.  Make sure you check out his write-ups: Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3.

You may be aware that after 20 years of straight touring, DMB decided to take this year off, almost.  They announced a “Caravan” touring festival in which they would headline earlier in the year.  The first stop was Atlantic City, New Jersey where they cleaned up an abandoned air field to serve as the venue.  The bill included a stable of DMB friends and a few up and comers.

First stop on the five day trip was Rehoboth Beach, Delaware, a relatively unknown place to us before the trip.  I decided that it may be nice to have an overnight stay before three days of concerts to ensure our old bones had some rest.  It turned out to be a hot/cold decision.

An afternoon of Dogfish Head brew sampling followed by fresh oysters and a walk on the beach – wow, wish we could have that every day!  Rehoboth Beach turned out to be a surprise.  The entire evening was one highlight.

The only way to fit the beach night  in and make it to Atlantic City on time was to take the Cape May-Lewes Ferry.  Tracey hadn’t exhibited motion sickness for years but I learned on this trip that doesn’t mean she’s cured.  A five-hour emergency room visit in Cape May followed the Ferry ride.

Unbelievably, after a shower and meal at our hotel Tracey was ready for night 1 of DMB.  I don’t know if its an indication of her insanity, love for DMB, or love for me… maybe #1 & 2… but she managed to not only make it to the show, but stay for the entire show and the walk back to the hotel.

The rest of the weekend was pretty much history.  We cruised through the next two days as if nothing had happened on the journey.  We saw all the music we wanted to plus became fans of new music too.

Kudos to Atlantic City.  This festival could have been a disaster for them.  An abandoned air field and over 75k visitors in one weekend were potential ingredients to mass hysteria.  Instead, the entire weekend was orderly and uneventful, except for the music of course.

A couple of bullets and then we’re out of here:

Until next time…

Cheers.

 

Remembering this 2011

Arthur Riley WW1

We tend to “thank” service men and women today and although our volunteer military deserves all respects, our reverence is reserved for those who made the ultimate sacrifice.  Most of us won’t visit cemeteries or ceremonies today.  Swimming pools and barbecues make the agenda.  Wreath laying gets caught on the news. American flags will grace our mailbox.  It doesn’t mean we don’t remember.  We honor their sacrifice and celebrate their memories by being with one another, living liberty.

Memorial Day originally was “Decoration Day”, started by Union soldier veterans to remember their comrades who fell in preservation of the Union.  I’m proud to say I had two Union soldiers in my family: my great grandfather James Riley and my great uncle Otto Steinhart.  James served with the 29th Pennsylvania Infantry while Otto was with the 54th New York Infantry.  They didn’t know each other yet fought close to one another on Culp’s Hill at the battle of Gettysburg.  Credited as the turning point of the Civil War, nearly 50,000 men were killed or wounded at Gettysburg over three days of fighting.

Memorial Day became “Memorial Day” after the first Great War, or World War I.  Nearly 117,000 Americans lost their life in this conflict that involved every major world power.  Arthur Riley, James’ son was one of them.  Pictured here, Arthur was 27 and had been married one year when he died in France in 1918.  Like many of my ancestors from Morgan County, Arthur was a carpenter and farmer.  Only his maker knows what adventures he had in 1918.

I’m also mindful of the South Pacific sailors of WWII today.  My grandfather, Tennis Russell served and was injured in 1944.  Thanks to genealogy and the Internet I’ve learned more about the 7th Fleet, specifically the Battle of Leyte Gulf recently.  Some consider this naval battle to be the largest in world history.  Japan threw everything they had at the Allies including the introduction of the Kamikaze.  The US lost 6 front-line vessels to Japan’s 26 in this battle.  Approximately 2,800 US sailors lost their lives in the battle.

Speaking of the Kamikaze, did you know a Kamikaze had a higher chance of surviving World War II than did an American airman in the 8th Air Corps?  We watched 12 O’clock High this morning on AMC and it reminded me of the courage and bravery of the 8th.  200,000 members of the 8th lost their lives in the fight for Europe.  The early days of daylight bombing was pure terror.  I can only imagine the mettle of the men that went up in those planes every day.

For the ordinary American today, we’re lucky we “can only imagine”.  The heavy lifting of keeping our barbecues hot has been done by many who came before us.  We tend to have short-term memories in this day and age.  As the generations leave us, the memories fade away.  Just take a moment to wonder, to ask yourself how you got here.

And thanks to all serving, who have served, and to your many comrades who didn’t make it home.

Happy Memorial Day.