The Awfuls were awesome. Even though their name was Alston, the neighborhood mothers thought Awful was a better fit. We all envied them as they roamed the neighborhood with a freedom we only imagined. They weren’t mean; they just got to do exactly as they pleased. They were everywhere, playing on the railroad track, staying out Continue reading
humor
I Needed Ghosts
Desperate for ghost stories, I hung on the words of my superstitious Maw Maw. While the men were out hunting, she held her grandchildren spellbound with all the scary tales she knew. Should she falter, one of my aunts urged her on…”Mama, remember about the big black dogs running through the house.” Her stories were more terrifying because she believed them with all her being. Continue reading
Grandpa Was a Dancing Fool
When my Grandpa Roscoe and his brothers were young, they never missed the rare opportunity to attend a dance or church social, no matter how hard they’d been working on the farm. They’d work like mad all week to get through in time to ride out to any barn-dance, Continue reading
Terror in the Night
Mother awoke to the chilling realization that someone was trying to break in the house. “Bill! Bill! Wake up Bill! Someone’s trying to get in!!” Daddy didn’t normally sleep: he went into a coma, but adrenaline jolted him into action. He grabbed his loaded shotgun and crept to the window. In the darkness, a tiny light glowed in the darkness of the front porch. It wasn’t just Mother’s imagination! Someone was trying to get in! Continue reading
Ruth Elaine and the Exploding Baby
The first-grade class prayed for reprieve as Luther Simpson stumbled through a page of Jane and Fluff the Kitten while the second-graders dawdled over their sums across the aisle in our shared classroom.
Little Ruth Elaine Lawson, a girl I’d had always thought dull, dropped her head to her desk and snuffled quietly, before bursting into great, heart-wrenching, snotty sobs. Startled at this display in Continue reading
Mixed Nuts
When you are dealing with family, it clarifies things to have a scale. You don’t have to waste time analyzing people when you have a ready reference. This one works pretty well for us.
- Has a monogrammed straight jacket and standing reservation on mental ward.
- Family is likely to move away without leaving forwarding address. Has jail time in the past or the future
- People say, “Oh, crap. Here comes Johnny.”
- Can go either way. Gets by on a good day. Never has been arrested. Can be lots of fun or a real mess. Relatives usually will invite in for coffee. Likely to have hormone-induced behavior.
- Regular guy. Holds down a job. Mostly takes care of business. Probably not a serial marry-er. Attends church when he has to.
- Good fellow. Almost everybody likes him or her. Volunteers for Habitat for Humanity. Manages money well enough to retire early.
- High achiever. Business is in order. Serves on city council.
- Looks too good to be true. What’s really going on?
- Over-achiever. Affairs are in order. Solid citizen. Dull, dull, dull. Could end up as a 1
Instead of saying, “Uncle Henry’s a pretty good guy, but sometimes he goes off the deep end, you could say, ‘He’s a usually about a 6 but he was a little 4-ish after Aunt Lou took his new truck and ran off with his brother’.” Or… Continue reading
Clothilde
I was almost named Clothilde. (KLO-TEEL. Wouldn’t have taken mean kids long to rename Kotex) So were my three sisters. No matter what heinous deed my mother may have committed or may commit in the future, I forgive her because she stuck up for me when it really mattered. Daddy was raised in North Louisiana during the deepest of the Depression, one of seven children always on the brink of starvation. His father either rented a farm or sharecropped when he couldn’t manage rent. Daddy didn’t speak often about his family’s situation, but occasionally slipped up and revealed the difficulties they suffered. They were a troubled family, economically and socially and moved frequently. Continue reading
Mother and the Rapist
Kathleen, my eighty-year old mother was snatched from sleep at three in the morning by the sound of hysterical screaming and pounding on her front door. Through the peep hole, she recognized her neighbor, a frail, single mother clutching her toddler and tiny infant, begging to come in. Mother was horrified to hear of Melinda’s rape at gunpoint, the lives of her tiny children threatened. Nonetheless, Melissa called the police and an investigation was begun. Continue reading
Prignant
Repost of an earlier post:
That was weird. I heard tiptoeing and a door quietly locking. I tiptoed to my parent’s room and found their door locked! Their door was never even shut except around Christmas. Mother must have gotten scared and locked it. Assuming the worst, I pounded and screeched, “Mama! Mama! Your door’s locked. Help! I can’t get in!!!” Continue reading
Nutsrok 