Author: lbeth1950

lbeth1950https://nutsrok.wordpress.comNow that I'm done with the bothersome business of workday world, I am free to pursue my passion, capturing the stories I've loved all my life. The ones you'll read on my blog are good old Southern stories, a real pleasure to relay. Here in the South, we are proud of our wacky folks. I've preyed shamelessly on my family, living and dead, friends, neighbors, and acquaintances, often changing the names to protect the innocent and not so innocent. My mother illustrates my blog. I come from a rollicking family of nuts, hence the name of the blog Nutsrok Enjoy.
lbeth1950's avatar

Big Jake

When I traveled in the Yukon Territory. I would often stop by this trading post/bar/restaurant and got to know the owner. One night he asked me if I could watch the place while he took food to a sick friend.

“Sure!”, I said.

Everything is humming along, suddenly a man burst through the door,

“Run for your lives! Big Jake’s coming!”.

Oh, crap. The place cleared out, I am hiding behind the bar when I hear the rumble of a Snowcat (big tank-like vehicle with bulldozer treads). The door slams open and a HUGE man covered in bearskins stomps into the place.

”Gimme a keg!!”.

I roll the keg from the walk-in refrigerator, he jams the tapper into it and sprays it into his face and mouth. When it was empty, I meekly asked him if he wanted another, he yells,

“You kiddin’ me? I’m outta here, Big Jake is coming!!”

Grandpa’s Dead!

My cousin Barbara was an only child wise enough to be born to older parents continuously thrilled at their creation. They indulged her in everything, the way my parents should have done me, understanding she was precious and needed protection from life’s hard edges. They all lived the house with Grandma and Grandpa so it was going to be a challenge to Continue reading →

Business

Come up with a crazy business idea.

Coming up with a business idea would be crazy. I am happily retired.

https://youtu.be/FesdHsdHI4E?si=ofhnNZBKCU16q9uT

Childhood Dress Mishaps and Playground Tales

When I was a kid, I hated wearing dresses since they interfered with my fun. I got sick of hearing” Keep your dress tail down.” “Girls don’t…..” “Sit with your knees together.” “Fix your clothes. Your dress is over your head!” I should have paid more attention to that last one.

Back in the good old days before anybody cared about safety, our school playground had one of those towering slides that a kid could actually fall off of and kill himself if he weren’t careful. All of us were competitively seeking death, so every one of those twenty-plus steps had a couple of kids jostling for position. I had become socially aware enough to hold my dress down having experienced the boys on the ground sing out that ever popular ditty.

“I see London.
I see France.
I see Linda’s underpants!”

Anyway, when I finally got my turn, knowing dawdling was not tolerated, I quickly tucked my skirt tail safely under me as the kid behind me gave me a shove. I felt a tug at my waist and heard that deadly ripping sound that signaled that, once again, I had destroyed yet another item of clothing, big trouble at home.

“Money doesn’t grow on trees!”

Before I’d processed all that, I heard ecstatic laughter of thrilled kids. I flew off the bottom of the slide, shocked to find myself standing in only my slip and the tattered remains of my dress bodice. The joyous boys were sing songing and pointing out the remains of my skirt fluttering from the top of the slide.

Fully expecting the teacher would contrive some method of dispatching me homeward, I was devastated when the pragmatic old lady wrapped my skirt around me, bath-towel style and pinned it to my slip with gigantic safety pins, instructing me, “Put your sweater on. This will do till you get home.” That was the first time I ever wished for another dress.

By the close of of school, my dilemma no longer interested my class, but the bus ride home afforded the raucous riders plenty to hoot about. I burst in the door at home, seeking solace. Before I could even launch into my suffering, Mother beat me too it. “Oh no! You’ve torn up another dress! That’s the first time you wore it! Money doesn’t grow on trees!”

I don’t know why she didn’t just send me to school wearing a barrel.

Blogs I Follow

http://breezybooksblog.wordpress.com/

Please check out my friend Maggie’s blog. I just got acquainted with her. She’s is a brilliant writer and keeps me in stitches. She is the reason for this post. Maggie recommends we introduce bloggers we like. I will be doing this more often. I am presenting initially from my frequent commenters so I will be getting to so many more of you in the coming days.

http://bluebirdofbitterness.wordpress.co

https://bluebirdofbitterness.com/2025/01/08/advertisements-from-long-long-ago-ultrasexy-menswear-edition-11/ Try this humor blog. It starts my day just right!

http://lookingforthelight.blog/

Looking for the Light is a Health and Lifestyle blog with so much information on various topics. I love it(

http://jcrhumming.wordpress.com/

janetweightreed10

Bio: I have been a working artist for over forty years. I am best known for my love of colour and spontaneous style.

Do yourself a favor and checkout Janet’s art blog. It really excites me.

http://midwestmary.wordpress.com/

Finding the Extraordinary in 
Ordinary, Everyday Life

Every time I read Mary’s blog I know I’m with a friend.

http://amehrling.com/

Anne blogs about life in North Carolina. Her descriptions of her days always leave me wanting more.

http://lovelifewithdawna.wordpress.com/

Dawna blogs frequently about dealing with her life impacted by Jehovah’s Witness. She is a tough, tender loving person. I learn so much from every post.

Please check my friends out. I will be getting to more soon.

Love at First Sight

Describe an item you were incredibly attached to as a youth. What became of it?

It was true love when I found this little guy under the Christmas tree. He was my constant companion. He was part of every game, sat on the chair with me while I ate, and slept with me. I even sneaked him into the bath with me, a hard lesson since it took him a couple of days to dry on the clothes line.

He tragically went missing one day. My search was futile. I moved on. Long afterwards, I found his tattered remains in the yard where the dogs had destroyed him. My heart broke all over.

Mission

What is your mission?

I hope I leave the world a better place.

The Mystery of the Monogram on a Toilet Seat

My mother often said, “If you have kids, you can’t have anything else.”  Well, she was wrong.  We had a new toilet seat.  After installing it, Daddy looked around, stared us down, and threatened.  “I’d better not see anybody’s initials on this seat!”  Where did that come from?  I’d never heard of anybody putting initials on a toilet seat.

I went about my business, that toilet seat and  initials, foremost on my mind.  I wrote LDS in my “Night Before Christmas” book, LDS in the sand under the big shade tree, scooped up some mud and wrote LDS on the dog house. Still unsatisfied, I heated the ice pick on a stove burner and burned LDS on a green Tupperware tumbler.

Feeling strangely unfulfilled and restless, I couldn’t think of a thing to do.  Billy was off somewhere playing with Froggy.  Mother and the baby were taking a nap, so if I stayed in the house, I had to be quiet.  I slipped in the kitchen to see if there was any Kool Aid miraculously left in the pitcher.  No luck. Dejected, I went to the bathroom.

There it was calling to me, pristine in its unblemished beauty.  The new toilet seat!!!  I sat down, my bare bottom luxuriating in its cool smoothness. I got up, locked the door, and turned the seat up. Making sure no one was looking through the window, I got Mother’s eyebrow pencil out of the medicine cabinet and wrote LDS in tiny letters where no one would ever see it.  Terrified, I erased my crime.  The finish was dull from pencil smears. My heart pounded!  I was caught!  I got tissue and buffed it off.  Thank goodness the shine was back.  Relieved, I sat on the side of the bathtub to catch my breath.  A nail fell out of my pocket and clattered to the bottom of the tub.  Never has the devil so possessed a soul.  Grasping the nail, I scratched BRS, Billy’s initials, on the toilet seat.  Horrified, at the enormity of my crime, I tiptoed past the room where Mother and the baby still slept.  By this time, Billy and Froggy had gotten back.  We were throwing mud balls at each other when I heard a shriek from the house.  “BILLY RAY SWAIN!!  You come here this minute!”  I didn’t need to go in to know what was wrong.  I heard “Spat! Spat! Spat!” and in a few minutes he was out, still snuffling.

“What happened?”

“Mother whooped me for putting my initials on the toilet seat. I told her I didn’t know how to write but she said, ‘Who else would put your initials on the toilet seat?’ “

How long could it be before she found the Tupperware?