Journal



#2,244 St. Francisville.

We woke up bright and early at one of the oldest motor court motels in the South, in St. Francisville, Louisiana. 

  
Garden and Gun and Southern Living sing its praises as one of the best small towns in America, and it’s just a wide place in the road with a few great restaurants and antiques and junk shops. With new vintage pieces for the shops in mind, and because I’m constantly on the quest to find the greatest small town in the world, we booked 2 motor cottages and made a day of it. We started with breakfast at Birdman’s Books and Coffee for their famous Belgian waffles and yellow grits and I’ve never tasted anything like them. Delicious!  

We toured Rosedown Plantation and learned its fascinating history and climbed a mahogany staircase that was handmade in 1850.   

    
 
Ben found the biggest loblolly pine ever.

We met some of Mallorie’s sweet family for lunch and had what’s called a Sensation Salad around here, which reminded me a lot of Tabella’s house salad, which is A-okay with me. Then we walked around town, finding all kinds of antiques for Dry Goods, loafing and piddling. It was gorgeous and sunny and brisk out there.   

   
As the sun was sinking low, we went to Grace Church to explore and look for Mallorie’s ancestors who go all the way back to George Washington. It was breathtaking and eerie there in the shadows of the live oaks and gravestones that predate the civil war.    

    
 
I found a little child’s grave from the 1800s on which a sweet olive was planted. I thought that was such a lovely way to remember a life. Don’t you? 

We drove down to the banks of the Mississippi River which is awe inspiring in person.  

And after a delicious dinner at the Myrtles Plantation Carriage House, I’m struggling to keep my eyes open. 

I can understand how St. Francisville deeply affected Mal as a child on her visits to her grandmother’s little cottage here.  There’s definitely a magic about it.