Trip to Union City

After listening to Johnny Winter and Rick Derringer all week at the shop, I ventured out to Union City (Rick Derringer's home town.) Such a quiet little town. I took my handmade rustic willow furniture to the Union City, Indiana Arts Depot, held by the Randolph County Arts Guild, there for the third year. The Randolph county Arts Guild has a monthlong exhibition of local art as their fundraiser. They have done a wonderful job of restoring the old Union City, Indiana, Train Depot to it's previous glory. It is like walking back into 1900.

On the way over, I stopped at Provence pond to answer nature's call, and right where I was standing, I saw a woodcock dead on the ground. It was obvious he had been killed by a shotgun. While I appreciate the skill and reaction time needed to kill this wonderful bird, I could only wonder why? I could understand hunting and killing a turkey or a deer for a meal and to continue to move forward the ancient history of providing wild meat for one's family,but how did this poor little dead bird figure in? it is a mystery to me how anyone could kill such a wonderful creature and then leave it dead in the parking lot? I guess killing a woodcock is better than killing a person.

After setting forty or so pieces of my handmade rustic willow furniture at the arts depot, on the way back home, I was going south down highway 227, and I saw a sign for home cooked food in Bartonia, just a mile to the west. This area is such a nowhere place I was skeptical, but I could not resist. I turned around in someones driveway and followed the sign. I pulled up in front of this old 1900 era building. These buildings are common in the little towns in this area. I went inside after seeing an open sign. And asked the waitress if it was too early for lunch as it was just before 11am. She assured me it was not. I took her up on the daily special, the 4 piece walleye dinner. No one else was there, and the waitress and the cook were very friendly and efficient and I had a wonderful lunch. The building put me in mind of my own shop and I could imagine buckboards and horses pulling up here to buy shotgun shells or dynamite or maybe even some moonshine.

Over the years, I have often believed if I just followed a certain back ass road a little farther, I would eventually come to this mythic restaurant in the middle of nowhere and have a fabulous meal. It has happened a few times, but not for many, many years. Today's lunch was a home run. I always check out a restaurant for calendars. William Least Heat Moon's BLUE HIGHWAYS taught me that the more calendars a restaurant has, the more likelihood of good food. The only calendar I saw was one from 1969, advertising the Bartonia General store. I will be back!

After this wonderful meal, I departed, driving on roads I never have been on, always a rare treat. Unfortunately, I was worried about getting back to my shop to be available for potential customers, and I soon retired to highway 36
I did make a stop to cut a box full of sumach, and a bundle of willows in Sulphur Springs.