truck

The Dead Pony, the Warped Kid, and the World’s Most Horrible Mother

horse_puns_aglore____by_alexandrabirchmoreThe phone rang one day.  Without introduction, I heard the familiar, deep voice of one of my son’s friends.  “Miss Linda, is that story about the pony true?”

“Yep!”  The last thing I heard was gales of laughter as I hung up.

If you are the sensitive type, skip this story.

Many years ago when my son was young, we were hauling a load of tree trimmings to the landfill.  As my husband backed the truck up to unload, I spotted a dead pony, bloated with all four legs stuck up in the air.  Without thinking, I said, “Hey, John.  Do you want a pony?”

Of course he said, “Yes!”

“Well, there’s one right over there!”

“Wahhh!!!!!”

I swear it was not intentional.  Sometimes I think there is a disconnect between my brain and my mouth!

This is for you, Lee Perkins

Lynn and Lou Part 15 Gathering Eggs: A Chicken Farm Tale

”Hurry and get dressed! We’re going to Uncle Albert’s today. The men are going to pitch in and dig him a well. Lynn, you and Lou go let the chickens out of the henhouse and feed them. Take this bucket and gather the eggs on your way back in. Billy put out water for the dogs and the chickens. Do NOT get wet. Come straight back in.”

The kids took off. Lynn opened the henhouse door and the chickens swarmed out. A fat hen jumped on top of Lou’s head. It was terrifying. She screamed and ran all over the chicken yard. The hen got tired of the wild ride and jumped off. Lynn laughed till tears ran down her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I forgot to tell you they do that sometimes. We raised all our chickens from babies, so they still think they’re tiny chicks.”

Yeah, sure, I’ll bet you forgot.” Lou replied. She wasn’t much upset. It probably did look funny.

“If you’re still scared, I’ll feed the chickens. They flock all around trying to get to the feed. One of them might jump on you. They won’t hurt you.” Lynn said.

”That’s okay. I was just surprised. I’ll feed them.” She scattered chicken feed all inside the chicken yard. They quickly lost interest in her. “This is actually kind of fun.”

Lynn took the egg basket over to the row of nesting boxes. They were about head high. Rather than take the time to climb the ladder, Lynn stood on tiptoe, pulling one egg from each nest. When she reached in the last nest, she screamed and took off at a run, slinging eggs along the way. “Snake! Snake! Mother! There’s a snake in the nest!” she screamed. “I hate snakes!”

Aunt Kat came at a run. She grabbed a hoe next to the chicken yard gate. She climbed a couple of steps up the ladder and raked the snake out on the ground where she chopped his head off with the hoe. The dogs were going crazy with joy. One grabbed the head, another the body. Feeling cheated, the others took off after the two lucky ones, trying to snatch their prize. Aunt Kat laughed and put her hands on her hips, “Well, I bet I won’t have to remind anybody not to reach in the nest without looking, will I? She gathered up the few unbroken eggs. “Girls, take the hoe and scratch some dirt over these broken eggs. We don’t want the dogs to start sucking eggs. Hurry, Daddy’s almost ready to go.”

The kids were in awe of what she’d done.”Your mother is the bravest woman I’ve ever seen!” said Lou: “I’m so glad I didn’t gather eggs.”

When they got back in, Mr. Al was loading the old truck with shovels and rope. Aunt Kat and the girls brought out a big basket with picnic lunch. “Get in the back and sit down. Don’t you climb up on the rails. If I have to stop and straighten you out, it won’t be good!”

”Yes Sir” they all answered. No one could have convinced her to move. She’d never seen anyone ride in the back of a truck.

Aunt Kat came around to the back of the truck and handed Lynn a brown paper bag of hot sausage biscuits with jam. “You each have two apiece, but don’t waste them. You might want one for a snack later” she said. She got in the cab of the truck. She put Connie in the car seat and clung to the little baby as the truck bumped off down the gravel road. Dust fogged up behind the truck.

Lou dug in. The biscuit sandwiches were so good, she gobbled both. What a wonderful way to start the morning.

A Hog a Day Part 2

We all piled in Daddy’s GMC truck and headed for Mr. Rose’s house as soon as my sister caught the school bus.  I was normally jealous she got to  to school, but today, I was glad to be going to the Rose’s. I was in hopes I’d get to ride in the back of the truck with its tall cattle frame but Mother shot that down.  Billy and I bounced along on the seat between Mother and Daddy, dust fogging in the open windows as we made our way down that red dirt road way back to the Rose’s farm.
Even though it was hot and hadn’t rained in days, its deep, dried ruts made for slow.going. From time to time, Daddy made a point to hit a bump harder, just to give us a delightful thrill. I was amazed to see a young doe and her fawn step out of the deep woods and cross in front of us.  I’d heard of deer, but never seen one.  I was hopeful Santa’s sleigh might be right behind her, but Mother assured me he’d only be around at Christmas.

Eventually the Rose’s neat farm and unpainted house came into view.  Billy and I trailed Daddy and Mr. Rose to the barn, where they were loaded up a few squealing pigs to take to the auction.  Daddy always did such fascinating things, while Mother stayed home to cook, clean, and take care of the kids.  It didn’t look like much of a deal to me.  I decided early on I needed to figure out a way to be a boy, an idea I abandoned later.  The pigs didn’t seem happy at all about their ride in the truck, even though they did get to ride in the back.

Pigs loaded, the men disappeared on their journey.  At the time, a trip to the auction with a truckful of squealing pigs seemed as epic as setting off to search for the Holy Grail, had I heard of such a thing.  Even though I’d been told I wasn’t going, my heart broke anew seeing them drive off with that load of pigs.  Life just wasn’t fair!  I needed to ride in the back of that truck with those pigs and maybe see another deer.

Heartbroken, I staggered back to the house where I found Mother and Miss Bessie having coffee at the oil-cloth covered kitchen table.  Salt, pepper, a jug of syrup, a sugar bowl, a jar of homemade jam, and one of those cute, tiny cans of Pet Milk sat in the center of the table.  My feelings were greatly repaired when Miss Bessie set a plate with a jam-filled biscuit and two slices of bacon in front of me.   Then, wonder of wonders, she asked if I wanted a cup of coffee.  At our house, no coffee or tea for children was a moral issue.  My parents frequently remarked how wrong it was that one of my aunts allowed her children sips of coffee.  Unbelievably, Mother allowed it, “Just this one time.”  Miss Bessie poured a little coffee, mixed in a lot of milk, and two teaspoons of sugar.  That was the best cup of coffee I ever had.  That heavenly elixir totally cured my heartbreak.

to be continued

The Dead Pony, the Warped Kid, and the World’s Most Horrible Mother

horse_puns_aglore____by_alexandrabirchmoreThe phone rang one day.  Without introduction, I heard the familiar, deep voice of one of my son’s friends.  “Miss Linda, is that story about the pony true?”

“Yep!”  The last thing I heard was gales of laughter as I hung up.

If you are the sensitive type, skip this story.

Many years ago when my son was young, we were hauling a load of tree trimmings to the landfill.  As my husband backed the truck up to unload, I spotted a dead pony, bloated with all four legs stuck up in the air.  Without thinking, I said, “Hey, John.  Do you want a pony?”

Of course he said, “Yes!”

“Well, there’s one right over there!”

“Wahhh!!!!!”

I swear it was not intentional.  Sometimes I think there is a disconnect between my brain and my mouth!

 

This is for you, Lee Perkins

Evening Chuckle/Crow and Road Kill Study

Good crowsA recent study on crow intelligence was released recently observing crows at an intersection.  There was a distinct pattern in which they took paint samples from crows that had been run over and matched to vehicle types.  It was observed that nearly all the paint samples had come from trucks, not passenger cars.  The scientists researching the incident explained it as the crows had established look out birds so that they could alternate feeding on trash and road-kill, while the others looked for danger.  The lookouts, while able to produce vocalizations for “cawr, cawr, cawr”, found “truck, truck, truck” much more difficult.

The Dead Pony, the Warped Kid, and the World’s Most Horrible Mother

dead ponyThe phone rang one day.  Without introduction, I heard the familiar, deep voice of one of my son’s friends.  “Miss Linda, is that story about the pony true?”

“Yep!”  The last thing I heard was gales of laughter as I hung up.

If you are the sensitive type, skip this story.

Many years ago when my son was young, we were hauling a load of tree trimmings to the landfill.  As my husband backed the truck up to unload, I spotted a dead pony, bloated with all four legs stuck up in the air.  Without thinking, I said, “Hey, John.  Do you want a pony?”

Of course he said, “Yes!”

“Well, there’s one right over there!”

“Wahhh!!!!!”

I swear it was not intentional.  Sometimes I think there is a disconnect between my brain and my mouth!

Fleas Go Home for Christmas, Willie Tharpe

Daddy wasn’t just a magnet for strange characters.  He beat the bushes to flush them out.  If that hadn’t worked, I believe he’d have up tacked up posters.  Mother had no way of anticipating who he might drag in for supper, overnight, or until further notice.  I never did understand why she didn’t murder Daddy.  He must have slept sometime! Continue reading →

Evil Larry Update

Since a lot of you seemed to enjoy hearing about my cousin Evil Larry who tormented my poor brother so, I thought I’d give you a little more.  Like I said, we were periodically subjected to cousinly visits, whether or not we wanted them.  Hence, Evil Larry was often around to inflict mayhem.  Once he stood on a fence post in our front yard shouting racial Continue reading →

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, churches and knew everything about everyone.  When 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 Continue reading →