Billy was a good eater. He was over six feet tall by the time he was twelve, worked hard every day and was always hungry. Since Daddy had known real hunger growing up during the depression, he encouraged him to “eat well.” Billy liked to drink his milk from a quart jar to cut down on troublesome refills, and he would hurt a kid over a piece of leftover fried Continue reading
humor
Poop Scooping
Everywhere you go now, you see people with little bags following their pets around, intent on capturing their precious leavings, an admirable trait in a society that values clean shoes and carpets, but if this had been going on for all time, can you imagine how it would have changed the course of history? Adam and Eve might never have gotten a bite of that Continue reading
Your Girdle’s Wet!
Phyllis and I had been at it all weekend. It was her first weekend home from college in 1965 and she was on top of Daddy’s good list. Daddy liked his kids a lot better when he hadn’t seen us lately, so Phyllis was basking in the warmth of his rare approval. Since I still lived at home and was a smart-aleck, I was definitely was not on his good list. His Continue reading
Killer Tomatoes
Mama kept me close her side when we were home alone. If she did let me go in the yard on my own, I had to be close enough to come running in an instant when she called. The only exception was a trip to the toilet. Since it wasn’t polite to answer from the toilet, I kept quiet knowing, she’d be watching for me to come out before mounting a search. She Continue reading
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
Dee Gibbs and Dishwater Soup
Of all the hobos who made their rounds periodically, Mama and the three of us kids despised Dee Gibbs the most, though we would have been hard pressed to come up with what was the worst: his smell, his voracious appetite, or his refusal to take the broadest hint that his welcome had worn thin. It was a mystery why Daddy tolerated him, but after Continue reading
Ain’t Fitten for the Dawrgs
The Elam family lived nearby, excellent neighbors, though not too long descended to Cuthand Creek from the Ozarks. You did have to watch your step around pipe-smoking Granny in her long skirts, brogans and speech bearing the distinctive mark of ‘the hills.’ A feisty, old lady, she tended to get fired up when offended. I loved her distinct language, Continue reading
The Trouble With Ducks
I loved hearing my grandpa Roscoe get cranked up on a good story. His best were about devilish pranks he was part of as a boy. This is one of my favorites.
” I was over at my friend Everitt’s house one day. For some reason, his mama didn’t like me much, so I pretty much tried to steer clear of her. Well, we’d been to the barn to get Everitt’s cane pole and was headed for the creek, when we noticed that Miz Maxey, Everitt’s mama, had let her flock of ducks out. She was real proud of them ducks. There was a mama duck with about a dozen ducklings just ahead of us. They was just tiny little things, probably was gonna be their first time in the water. Mama Duck went right on in with her brood following her. They swam just like they’d been doing it for years. Just as they was about to get to the other side, one of us (I think it must’ve been Everitt) chunked a piece of wood in the creek. Them and their mama ducked under and come up on the other side. I was on that other side and chunked it back across. They ducked under and come up on the other side again. It was so funny, I guess we’d done it more than we realized before we noticed fewer ducks were coming up. We also hadn’t noticed Miz Maxey headed our way, mad as hops. She’d seen what we was up to and I took off. Last I knew, she was whaling Everitt, and yelling after me, “Run, you little devil, run! I’ll git you next time!” I kept my distance for a good long time!”
Hey! Little Gal!
Enjoy this story from my mother’s memory bank:
Mama gave me the twin chicks hatched from a double-yoked egg since they were odd, slow and probably wouldn’t have made it on their own. I coddled those two from the first. They’d imprinted on me and followed me everywhere. It is likely they had chromosome damage since they developed into normal looking roosters while retaining their “chick” Continue reading
Nutsrok 