Southern

Miss Ruby and the Bagwells

The companionable thing about growing up in the fifties and sixties in the rural South was that everyone went to the same school and churches and knew everything about everyone.  The teachers at school taught your siblings and cousins and might have taught your parents. If a kid got in trouble at school you can bet his mama would be waiting for him with a switch even though our rural neighborhood had no phone service.

Once the women got the kids off to school, beds made, dishes done, wash on the line, and the beans on to soak for supper, they might have a little time to visit a neighbor for coffee before heading home to get the baby down for a nap, finish their afternoon’s work and get supper on the table.  I loved going to Miss Alice’s house.  She didn’t have kids, so she always made a fuss over us.  Instead of scampering off to play, we usually hung around long enough for her to offer us a snack.  Sometimes it was left over biscuits with butter and jelly or best of all, teacakes.  If I hadn’t been hanging around hoping for a teacake, I wouldn’t have heard about the scandal of Red Bagwell and his brother Floyd. They weren’t the sharpest guys around but got by okay on the little place where their parents raised them. Though they were in their forties, neither had ever married.  I always looked forward to hearing Red talk.  His consonants didn’t always work out.  The way he explained it, “I can’t sound out my rells.” Daddy stopped by one day when Red and Floyd were working on a shed.  Red put on a new door hinge and gestured to Floyd, “ Froyd, git me that rock.”  Floyd looked around, found a good-sized rock, obligingly brought it over, and propped the shed door shut.  Red gave it a kick and barked, “Not a rock!! A damned rock!” stomped over and picked up the lock where he’d laid it out on the ground.  My ears perked up anytime someone mentioned Red and Floyd. It seems Red had somehow snagged a wife.  The three lived in the family home, Miss Ruby fitting in well with the two brothers. She kept house, cooked, cleaned, slopped the hogs, and kept a nice garden.  The three were getting along fine.  She was a fine wife and a healthy-looking woman. Back then, healthy-looking meant she ate like a lumberjack and could wrestle a bear.   As time went on, it seems she was fitting in far too well with both brothers. One day Red rode in to town with Joe Jones to sell a load of turnips, but Floyd felt like he needed to stay home and work on the new hog pen.  When Red and Joe got home, ready for coffee, the doors were locked.  Red knew Ruby and Floyd were both home, because the wash was still on the line, the old truck was there and Floyd’s old dog was under the porch.  Floyd never went anywhere without Ol’ Blue.  Red beat on the front door.  No answer.  He checked the back door.  No answer.  He came back and hammered on the front door again.  Miss Ruby yelled out.  “Git on out of here and quit bangin’ on that door!  Floyd’s tryin’ to take a nap.”  Bewildered, Red squatted outside the front door, muttering to Joe, “umpin ‘oin on in ‘ere.”  Eventually, Floyd finished his “nap,” ambled on out to do chores.  The three did not have a cozy night.  Something like this might have broken up the relationship between most brothers, but Ruby saved the day.  When the feuding brothers got up the next morning, Ruby had eloped with Ol’ Blue and the truck.  As the brothers commiserated over the betrayal and bonded over their losses they worked things out.

Joke of the Day/Tips for Moving South

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1. Save all manner of bacon grease. You will be instructed later how to use it.

2. If you forget a Southerner’s name, refer to him (or her) as “Bubba”. You have a 75% chance of being right.

3. Just because you can drive on snow and ice does not mean we can. Stay home the two days of the year it snows.

4. If you do run your car into a ditch, don’t panic. Four men in the cab of a four wheel drive with a 12-pack of beer and a tow chain will be along shortly. Don’t try to help them. Just stay out of their way. This is what they live for.

5. Don’t be surprised to find movie rentals and bait in the same store.

6. Do not buy food at the movie store.

7. If it can’t be fried in bacon grease, it ain’t worth cooking, let alone eating.

8. Remember: “Y’all” is singular. “All y’all” is plural. “All y’all’s” is plural possessive.

9. There is nothing sillier than a Northerner imitating a southern accent, unless it is a southerner imitating a Boston accent.

10. Get used to hearing, “You ain’t from around here, are you?”

11. People walk slower here.

12. Don’t be worried that you don’t understand anyone. They don’t understand you either.

13. The first Southern expression to creep into a transplanted Northerner’s vocabulary is the adjective “Big ol'”, as in “big ol’ truck” or “big ol’ boy”. Eighty-five percent begin their new southern influenced dialect with this expression. One hundred percent are in denial about it.

14. The proper pronunciation you learned in school is no longer proper.

15. Be advised: The “He needed killin'” defense is valid here.

16. If attending a funeral in the South, remember, we stay until the last shovel of dirt is thrown on and the tent is torn down.

17. If you hear a Southerner exclaim, “Hey, y’all, watch this!” stay out of his way. These are likely the last words he will ever say.

18. Most Southerners do not use turn signals, and they ignore those who do. In fact, if you see a signal blinking on a car with a southern license plate, you may rest assured that it was on when the car was purchased.

19. Northerners can be identified by the spit on the inside of their car’s windshield that comes from yelling at other drivers.

20. The winter wardrobe you always brought out in September can wait until November.

21. If there is the prediction of the slightest chance of even the most minuscule accumulation of snow, your presence is required at the local grocery store. It does not matter if you need anything from the store, it is just something you’re supposed to do.

22. Satellite dishes are very popular in the South. When you purchase one, it is to be positioned directly in front of your trailer. This is logical, bearing in mind that the dish cost considerably more than the trailer and should, therefore, be displayed.

23. Tornadoes and Southerners going through a divorce have a lot in common. In either case, you know someone is going to lose a trailer.

24. Florida is not considered a southern state. There are far more Yankees than Southerners living there.

25. In southern churches you will hear the hymn, “All Glory, Laud and Honor”. You will also hear expressions such as, “Laud, Have mercy”, “Good Laud”, and “Laudy, Laudy, Laudy”.

26. As you are cursing the person driving 15 mph in a 55 mph zone, directly in the middle of the road, remember, many folks learned to drive on a model of vehicle known as John Deere, and this is the proper speed and lane position for the vehicle.

27. You can ask a Southerner for directions, but unless you already know the positions of key hills, trees, rocks, and where buildings used to stand, you’re better off trying to find it yourself.

Southern Fried Crazy

 

We do love our crazy folks down South.  Oh, we may not want them right up in the house with us, not that it doesn’t happen from time to time, but certainly we need them to brighten up our holidays and remind us of how dull life would be without them.

My perennially pregnant Cousin Carol waddled into the family reunion this year with her nine kids and current live-in. He’d look like Willie Nelson if she cleaned him up a little.  Excepting her penchant for living in sin, Cousin Carol is fanatically religious, devoting herself to the food kitchens, fellowship nights serving evening meals, and community closets of all the local churches, though not their morning services.  “It’s hard to git nine young’uns dressed that early.” Some nosey relative asked her how many more kids she was going to have and she answered, “As many as God gives me.” I think the boyfriends had more to do giving her those babies than God did!  You can bet your sweet fanny she won’t have any more if she had to pay for them. At the conclusion of the reunion, she loaded up as much food as she could manage in her decrepit station wagon, reasoning if she didn’t, “it would just go to waste.”

For those of you who haven’t been to a family gathering in the South, this is every cook’s turn to shine.  They bring their most celestial dishes.  If Aunt Sue chases you down with her fresh coconut cake, you’re going to try it or else!  Don’t bother pleading allergies.  Aunt Bonnie makes the best fried chicken.  You have to have some of Uncle Joe’s barbecue, but watch out for Cousin Mattie Mae’s Three-Bean-Salad with the wigglies. You don’t have to take any of that. She has Alzheimer’s and won’t know the difference.  It may very well be the same batch she brought last year.

R G Holdaway Family with Johnny Bell early 1930's

Early photo of my mother’s family about 1930

Uncle Chester couldn’t make it this year.  He got sent back up for counterfeiting, but he did set the boys up in bootlegging before he got caught.  They’re doing real good.  Aunt Jennie is really proud of them.  Her girl Joyce is teaching at the high school and just married the Baptist preacher.  Aunt Jennie is so tickled all her kids are making a good living and doing well.

I never get tired of bragging about my tightwad Cousin Kat who set up her tombstone in her bedroom because she “didn’t want to spend all that money and then not get any enjoyment out of it.”  There was my cousin Evil Larry, who ran around with his pants unzipped “all the better to pee on us” when he could catch us.  I never did learn to like him, though.  I adored my cousin Sue, but she was a compulsive liar from the time she could talk; delightful, non-malicious creations that kept me guessing.  She was great fun, but would have climbed on top of the house to tell a tale when she could have stood on the ground and told the truth.

1st row Kathleen Holdaway, Ellie Blizzard,Johnny Bell2nd John a0002I don’t think I could pick a favorite.  I love them all, even the ones I hid from.  They gave me wonderful stories, ensuring that my rich life never has a boring moment.  All I have to do is think back and recall.

The photo above features Mother’s aunt in the back row. Her hair never grayed. Next to her is her orphaned niece, Katie Katie’s son. She raised Katie from birth. Katie was widowed when Baby Johnny was only eight weeks old, so he never knew another home. Mother’s brother stood behind Johnny next to their sister, Ann. The small blonde child in the front row is Mother. She was too shy to have her picture made until she was convinced to let the doll be photographed.

Most important of all was the cat, Old Greenie  She was 26 years old and had just given birth to her last litter of kittens.  Not long after this picture was made Old Greenie ate her kittens, starting at the feet.  My Grandpa was horrified and knocked her in the head.  See, my family even had crazy animals.

Southern Folks

sun hatFor some reason, people get the impression folks from the South are unintelligent perhaps because of the Southern accent.  I get this a lot since I smile and laugh a lot and am always friendly.  I could talk to a fence post.  It’s always interesting to surprise people with a witty return when they think I’m not too sharp.

Sorry, Your Highness, My Mother’s a Snob

My mother is always taking digs at the Queen. It’s not like she’s ever met her, nor even been slighted by her in any way.  They’ve never moved in the same social circles since Mother has always lived in the United States. Nor has Her Highness ever had the opportunity to snub her, except when Mother made a twenty-one day tour of Great Britain. The Queen failed to invite Mother to tea, even though she was in residence at Windsor Palace at the time.  Mother said if the Queen didn’t have the courtesy to invite her, she wasn’t about to beg for an invitation.  I reminded Mother the Queen may not have even known she was in the country, but the damage was done.  The only positive thing Her Majesty has ever done is be a year older than Mother.  Mother is vain about being younger, prettier, and having a better sense of fashion than the Queen.  She also accuses her of being a snooty, nosy mother-in-law.  Despite the fact that Mother has issues with the Queen, any time the Royal Family is featured in the media, Mother is right there. She is pointing out all the Queen’s flaws, insisting she’s gained weight since the last time.  There.  The truth is out…I hope the Queen doesn’t take it too hard.

 

Addendum:  I am ashamed to report how joyously my mother received the recent news that the DNA of King Richard III, Queen Elizabeth’s forbear, revealed there was some Royal hanky-panky going on, indicating he was not legitimate!