One of Daddy’s coworkers also indulged in the hunt. I loved hearing the stories they told.
Slim was a God-gifted liar, so well-known for his lying, that anyone who repeated one of his tales had to buy coffee for the group. One day, Slim came rushing by several of the fellows standing around at work and one of them called out, “Slim, stop and tell us a lie.”
“I ain’t got time.” He called over his shoulder. “Martin Bishop just fell in Smokestack 19 and I’m on the way to call an ambulance.” He rushed on as the other men took off in the opposite direction to check out the accident at Smokestack 19. They were breathless upon getting there and found Martin hard at work, totally unaware that he’d just been tragically killed. I guess they all had to buy their own coffee.
Slim and his wife, Ida Ruth, had a large family. Like many men of the time, his work was done once he left the job. One blazing August afternoon he came home to find a workman, a man of his acquaintance, digging a ditch that ran along the right of way in front of his place. The man was stripped down to his undershirt in the sweltering heat with sweat pouring off him. Slim stopped to talk and sent one of the kids for a glass of ice water. “Man, it’s too hot for you to be shoveling in this heat. Git on out of that ditch and let Ida Ruth finish it!” I don’t guess Ida Ruth heard about it, because there was no murder.
Mike Parsons had been raised in Arkansas and considered himself an authority on all things Arkansas. No one could mention Arkansas without getting an earful of his knowledge, experience, or connections. He must have had a hundred sisters, since he had a brother-in-law in every town. It was getting a little tiresome and Ray Marshall decided to set him up. “I’m going to come in to work tomorrow telling a wild tale about a town in Arkansas I made up. Y’all follow along and see what ol’ Mike has to say.”
The next morning at work when they stopped for coffee, Ray started his story, “Any of y’all ever heard of a little town up in the Arkansas called Catscratch? I was driving through there one time and………”
Mike Parsons jumped in. “Sure, I been there several times. My sister married an old boy from there. He raises them big pink tomaters just outside Catscratch. They got a real nice little place.”
Month: July 2018
335 dogs rescued from kill shelters
Thank you Paulette. I love a wonderful rescue dog.
I’m deeply grateful to everyone who has purchased, read, and taken the time to review one of my books. All profits from my books go to help get dogs like Mickey, Jingles, Maverick, Duran, Sheba, Miss Beazley, Woodrow, Jade, Freddy, Micki, Darryl, Louie, Lucas, Reginald, Gray tzu, Bowie, Sawyer, Suzie, Eva, Einstein, Houdini, Zelda, Farley, Lacey, mom Darlene & 3 puppies, Oso, bonded pair Classy & Velvet, Wilma, Quinn, Admiral, Hendrix, Tanji, Penelope, Cletus, Bentley, Cora, Martha & Millicent (see photos below) out of kill shelters. So far in 2018, 335 dogs have been rescued. In 2017 we’ve helped free 904 dogs. In 2016, 250 dogs were freed. In 2015, 149 dogs were freed.
AND please for everyone who’s purchased a book could I humbly ask you to write a review when you’ve completed the read. Amazon promotes and ranks books according to number of reviews in addition to…
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5 Funny Moments with Babies
A Hog a Day Part 10
Art by Kathleen Swain
Cousin Carol married a sorry guy. He wasn’t crazy about working. In fact, he was pretty much averse to it. He had better things to do, hunting, fishing, sleeping and making babies. He and Carol had three babies in record time. It worried Daddy’s brother terribly that Jerry didn’t provide for Carol and the kids. As a favor to him, Daddy had Jerry meet him at the house one day after work. “Come with me and we’ll go get you a hog so Carol can have something to cook for the kids.” Jerry was all for free pork. They went to the pen, got Jerry a nice-sized pig, and he was on his way.
A few days later, Daddy showed up to check hs traps mid-morning and surprised Jerry at his pen with a 22 rifle in his hands. He’d just shot a pig and was getting ready to load it in his car. Daddy was an imposing man, very six foot three. He slapped Jerry to the ground.
Billy was Daddy’s shadow, making every step he made, whether it was hunting or socializing, which were often one in the same. One evening, they were sitting with several of the guys on logs around a fire telling tales. Billy had worked hard to keep up with his new orange hunting cap all day, only too aware of how lucky he was to have it. It was late. He was tired. He’d nodded off a time or two, leaned up against a big log next to Daddy when he was startled to see Runt Rider, the crotchety owner of the fish camp wearing his cap. His hand flew to his head, finding it bare. Sure enough, Runt had his hat! The other fellows teased him routinely, but Runt was an old grump, who’d never even spoken to him. There were even stories that he’d stabbed a man!
He’d been set up. The guys were all waiting, watching for his reaction. The more he studied the situation, the more outraged he became. Finally, time for action. He bounded across, grabbed the cap off Runt’s head, and was rewarded by an explosion of laughter from all the guys around the fire. Runt was not happy at being laughed at. His face turned fiery red. He spit, sputtered, cursed, struggling to maintain control, clearly infuriated. Billy calmly put the hat on his head, walked to Daddy’s truck, and got in, feeling vindicated.
Daddy walked over to the truck. “Son, why in the world did you grab Mr. Runt’s hat off his head?”
“He had my hat. I had to get it back.”
“Look on the seat beside you.” Beside him on the seat, undeniably, lay his own hat. “I guess you’d better give Mr. Runt’s cap back. Billy took off the cap, returning it to Mr. Runt, with an apology. Mr. Runt was ungracious, but at least didn’t stab him.
Nutsrok 