You Want Thighs With That?

Back in 2010, I went to Memphis for a couple of months. My son had just been diagnosed with cancer and my mom was dying. I went to help take care of them both and keep my grandbabies for the summer. One day while visiting mom…..

.

“Honey could you go get me some chicken livers? I have had a craving for them for the last three days.” mom said while drinking her coffee.

” Do I have to cook them or is there a special restaurant you buy them at?” I asked with reluctance in my voice. I hated using her stove.

“Down at the market is where I usually buy them. Back in the deli.” she says.

Cool, I didn’t have to monkey around with that stove from the 1800’s. I hated cooking on her stove and frying liver was the worst. I love to eat them I just hate to cook them. As I was heading to the deli, she adds to her order.

“Could you get some toilet paper, soap, milk and have them add some taters on that liver order.”

“Sure mom.” I call out as I race to the door. I knew my mom. If I hung around I would have a list a mile long and be going all over Memphis picking up this and that. Things not really needed but she felt compelled to get.

With grands in tow I headed to the deli. I get to the counter and a 20 something, beautiful blonde, blue eyed, gorgeous smile, little girl asked me,”May I help you?” with that familiar southern drawl I grew up with.

I asked if they had chicken livers today. She pointed at the food in the hot deli case between us and says

google image

“Why, yea-us we do.” and points to the livers in the corner. The case was full of southern fried goodies from fish to twinkies. She informed me that I could get chicken livers and two thighs for $3.99. I said okay thinking that I might have one for lunch. After second thought, I changed my mind and ask to change my order back to just livers and to skip the thighs. She looked at me with a confused faced and asked, “Where did you get thighs from?”

“From you.” I said. Now she is extremely perplexed and at a loss for words. I repeated her words back to her verbatim. “You can get chicken livers and two thighs for $3.99?” She started to laugh so hard she almost dropped the prongs.

Then she says, “No, s-i-d-e-s.” which she spelled slowly, “sides” she repeated in her southern drawl. Of course, that made sense. I mean that is a huge meal for $3.99.

“That will be fine.” I say looking around sheepishly to see who, if any one, was watching this interaction. Lucky for me only about a dozen people were in hearing range. I quickly move down to the veggies. As I was peering in to the food case for the “SIDES”, I found the potatoes and something else that caught my eye. It was a strange type of pea brownish red in color with snap beans surrounded by little tom tom tomatoes. I looked up to her cheerful face and asked her, “What is that?”

“That is what I was talking about the sssiiidddeeesss.” she said with a long and drawn out pronunciation of the word, as if I were deaf or from a foreign planet.

I said, “No what is it?”

Again she says, ” A SIDE” this time with a much sharper tone in her voice.

At this point, I am laughing so hard I can’t talk. I finally get out the words, “What kind of vegetable is it?”

“Oh that is just peas, honey.” she says.

As I drove back to mom’s, I came to the conclusion that even though I have one of the thickest southern accents in the little village I call home, I apparently have lost my ability to decipher the southern dialect. O mama.

Rest in peace mama. Your laughter was the greatest gift you ever gave me.  February 18, 1936 – September 7, 2010

Until next time,

Birdie

I have taken on another job.  I will be posting but  it will only be on Mondays until I can rearrange my life’s schedule again. I will for sure be reading your post.  You guys are one of the few things that brightens my days.  You may only see a -like– icon but know that I am either laughing, crying or saying hmmmm while reading you.  Wish me luck on this adventure.   I can never turn down an opportunity even if it is down a long and unknown road.

Advertisements

To Theme the Impossible Theme

Okay I am back and ready for the New Year.  Wow, it is funny how work can get in the way of life.

I thought I would start out the new year with a new front…new front blogging home page that is.  I spent all morning looking and trying on different looks.  It was agonizing.  I am a no-nonsense type of person.  When I go shopping, I get in and out with record speed.  Well, maybe not the grocery store or the bakery or the local pastry shop. Okay when it comes to food – eating – buying – or cooking it, I involve all my senses and that takes time.  Wait, I am getting off topic.  I was saying that this theme shopping was killing me.  I started at 6:30 in the morning and finally decided on this one at 12:47  in the afternoon.  That is a whopping six hours and 17 minutes.  Like I said, agonizing.

Being a no-nonsense person, one would think a minimalist look would be perfect for me.  Grid Focus or Clean Home were indeed sensible and clean but I discovered I desired color for my life in words.  I found it with Matala and Sweet Blossoms but they did not let me transfer some of the customizing I spent hours working on in the beginning of my blogging life.  I even tried on the ones in the middle, only to find the fit was not right.  Some of the themes were too busy, some were too tight, others were too dark, and some required magnifying glasses.  This was turning into an impossible task.   Why has no one thought to design a free theme that is visually impaired friendly?   I mean, someone thought to make that phone for us AARP people.  You know the one with giant numbers.  My mom had that phone and I loved it.  Anywho,  I was getting no where until I started thinking about the blogs I love to visit.  I began looking in my own back yard and fell in love with the Bouquet layout.

Now that I have a new beginning, I decided to do something I had been wanting to do for a long time.  I may be committing bloggers suicide but I feel compelled to follow my heart.  I have decided to change the way I refer to Hubs.  Mr. Moody or Mr. M is far more fitting.  You just have no idea how much this describes him.   I played with Chief  or Chief Yells-Alot to give recognition to his military background but it made him seem hateful.  Mr. Moody covers his many ups and downs which can occur between seconds, not the usual days that most people experience.  He is a hot mess but I love him….hills and all.

Daughter was next on the agenda for a name change.  The one thing that stands out above all else regarding her is she never sleeps unless the sun is up.  She uses the quietness of the night to do all her art, reading and studying.   The first site of light sends her running to the bed.  Her sleeping is all messed up, at least it is to me.  This put me in the mind of a vampire but a vampire she is not.  Then I thought of a bat.  She loves bats and does sort of live like one.  ( dark green and burgundy room, loft style bed and different sleeping habits) This lead me to the children’s book Stella Luna.  It was her favorite book when she was little and somehow it fits her now.  So, Stella it is.

I also changed the header to include my dogs.  I think it is only right since the name of my blog was inspired by them.  Plus they are just so darn cute.

I wanted to say thank you to Tony again.  I hope you all enjoyed reading him.  I just fell in love with the letters and I wanted to share with you, the people that enrich my life so much,  what I thought was very special.

I think I had better wait for any other changes to implement.  I know how frustrating it can be to go shopping for the ice cream only to find it has been replaced with diapers and the dad-burn ice-cream is clear across on the other side of the store.  Change is good but I prefer it in small doses.

Later yall,

Birdie

The Power or My funny “friend” part 2

Last Monday was a part one and here, as promised, is the rest of the story.

It is a little past 12:00 p.m and around two weeks later. All the electricity it OUT, my husband would prefer that I not write about him again so I will tell you what happened when “my friend” came home.

I greeted my bestie at the garage door, which I had to manually open. He calls out, with the enthusiasm of a 9 year old. “What is wrong?” “The electricity out?” “Yes”, I said.

Here we go…..

Google image

He walks into the garage as quick as knee high snow will let him. He immediately goes to the back porch. For a little while, I hear nothing, nothing at all. The door swings open… There he stands and in his hand is a key and the answers to all our problems, he proudly announced. I swear there were beams of light projecting from somewhere in the background. He looked bigger than life right then. Maybe it was the way he was holding himself

Google image

chest out, head up, and chin straight or it could have been the sun setting behind him. In his hand, a little orange box attached to this long cord, which had been pulled in through the doggie door. (Dogs were looking a little suspicious at him) He sits it up on the kitchen island and with great satisfaction… he turns that key he was holding. This thing has a key to start it remotely!! I might need to get my friend to teach me how to use it. It starts up pretty as you please. He, my friend, smiles. Scurry, scurry all over the place pulling extension cord from everywhere. He starts plugging in the electronics. (notice his level of priority) TV – check, internet, router, and computers – check, refrigerator – check, by the way, he listens this time to make sure it is really off then turns and looks at me. I am standing there, apparently and without my knowledge, with a huge sheepish grin on my face. I’m taking it all in. I don’t want to miss a thing. In my mind, I’m writing this story as we go. He gets this serious look on his face and tells me I can not write about any of this. People in town are waving at him that he doesn’t even know and he attributes the friendly nature of folks to my FaceBook notes. Boy, he sure does give me a lot of credit. 😉

I open the refrigerator door and NOTHING! It was not working.

“It’s NOT WORKING” he says with disbelief and a slight panic in his voice. “I told you we should have tested this damn thing out before we really needed it”, my friend says. Unbelievably, he is directing that shout out at me. It could be because I told him I did not want to fool with all the cords and the hassle of moving things here and there when he first got it. It could be because I told him just to leave it until we really needed it, but who really knows why he would take such a tone. -grins-

google image

TV – does not work, internet and router not working. What the……? With a bewildered look on his face, heels dug in and tongue stuck out his mouth, for concentration, he sets to work on the problem. In and out, in and out of the house then a few minutes later, da, da, dah, everything is working. He calls me into the kitchen to receive a general lesson. “You have to make sure all the plugs are in tight”, he tell me. “And see this one, this one you have to turn it a half a turn to the right.” (Big Grin) He is really trying very hard to not show how exhilarated he is. He’s convinced I am going to write about this anyway. He’d be right.

Now we are sitting in the living room. My best friend is feeling quite pleased with himself. Then he looks at me, I could see the excitement building. He asked, “Do you think I should go plow the drive now?” All the while, the snow is being poured out of the sky by the bucket loads.
Thus, is a day in the life of my snow happy husband “friend” deep in the Sacramento Mountains.

All kidding aside, I love it when he is happy. He is my hero, my “friend”.

Fundamental Fridays: How Long

How long?

How long does it take to vent?

At this very moment I can’t remember what in the heck I was venting about but I DO KNOW how long it took because Hubs pointed it out.  3. 7 minutes.  Yep that is right it only took 3.7 minuets to get my point across…..or to run out of gripe.  Dang it.  What was I venting about?  I can’t remember but at the time it was pertinent…I think.

You may ask how I know for certain that is was exactly 3.7 minutes.  Because after several heated discussions of how Hubs never listens to me anymore, he has started pausing the TV to listen to me.

TO HECK I SAY!  Pausing a TV.  A MAN PAUSING A TV?

Yes a husband that is trying and trying hard.

Okay, I had an entire post on this but I hooked up my Bose and plugged in my Playlist then everything became a blur.  The white wine with fish tonight did not help (bottle) to keep my train of thought in line.

Where are the blogging Police when you need them?

Sorry, this is all I got for a Fundamental Friday.

I guess fundamental I need a freedom to vent  that only Fish Almondine and White wine can bring .

Happy Friday all.

Fundamental Fridays: Everybody Dies Famous In A Small Town

 

I know I am late Sorry. 😉

 

I love living in a small town but sometimes I just want to escape.  Like when the cattle trucks come through our little village and stop at the gas station across the street from me.  It does not take long for the cows to start mooing.  They are calling out to me.  They know I’m here and they can feel my pity for them.  They are mooing my name Ruuuuuuth, Ruuuuuuuth over and over again.  They sound so scared, pitiful  and helpless. Don’t get me wrong I am a steak eater but I am an animal lover more, especially to the ones that know my name.  On more than one occasion I have thought about sneaking over there and unlatching the door.  I would shout be free, run free, get the heck out of that truck don’t you know what is coming?  I have gone as far as to walk outside to get a better look see and strategize my plans.

Some ideas are….

1.  Wait until the driver goes inside to get his cup of coffee then creep over to the truck and open the door. Then run like heck back to the store where I work.  I could fake it when the local PoPo ask me if I saw anything.  I could tell them  a band of very tiny forest people  stood on one another shoulders to release the bovine.  Then I would have my friends claim I was insane and I don’t know what I was talking about much less where I am at.

2.  Wait until the driver goes to get his coffee and a burrito then race over like The Flash and blow the lock with c4.  Okay you got me I have no idea what c4 is other than it is an explosive they have used on NCIS.  More than likely I would blow up the cows and that would defeat my purpose.  But what a heck of a steak and shake party that would be. What am I saying?

3.  Wait until the driver goes in to get his cup of coffee, burrito and uses the bathroom.  Run over pick the lock then one at a time guide each cow into one of my storage units that are right next door to the gas station.  Of the ones that can’t fit, I could tie them up in peoples yards.  I can put straw hats and spots on them to make them look like yard art.

4.  Wait until the driver goes into get his cup of coffee, burrito, uses the bathroom and flirt with the little ladies that work there.  Unhitch the trailer and hook it to my truck.  Haul them off to a undisclosed field where they can be happy and roam the country side  never more to worry.

The only thing that stops me is the thought of having to face Hubs.  Oh and I guess my friends might have a few words to say like :”ARE YOU CRAZY?” and “I just don’t know who you are anymore!”  The Daughter would hang her head in shame. I would get a reputation of being a cow hugger (that I would not mind).  Do they still hang people for cattle rustling?

I think I will just invest in a great pair of ear plugs.  I can pop them in as soon as I hear/smell the truck coming.  All I know is that I have to do something or one day you all will be seeing a headline about a crazed woman that reads, “Who let the cows out? WHO WHO WHO WHO?”

 

Now this story may or may not have been amusing but if truth be known…I REALLY DO WANT TO LET THE COWS OUT.

Fundamental Fridays: Show Me Your Pearly Whites

Alrighty now!  Did you notice it?  Did ya?   A new little face adorns my header.  This little face comes with a name “Q-ball”.  She is now an official member of the pack.  A litter mate of great magnitude.  She is all of 4.5 inches high and should weight between 2 and 4 pounds BUT she is topping the scales at a whopping 8.6 pounds.  She is a bruiser with an attitude that is surly going to lead her into trouble.  Age unknown…somewhere between 6 and 8 years old.

As many of you know, my dad passed away mid October.  I am so grateful I was there for the last few weeks of his life.  My dad had been worrying a lot about his health a few years prior to his death.  More than once, he expressed a need for me to take his dogs if anything happened to him.  I said I would but for him not to worry.  I just knew he could out live them on pure determination only. He asked me to take both of his dogs but I only have Q-Ball.  The other one is in the caring hands of dad’s friend.  The other one, Gomer Pile, had issues at birth which left him with brain damage.  He requires around the clock supervision and that was something that would be hard for me to do since I work.  I know she will care for him as hard as I would have.  My dad told the nurses and me that his chihuahuas understood English completely but he could not understand them cause he did not understand Spanish.  He kept his since of humor until the hour before he died.

So far this is what I know about Q-Ball:

She Snores Loudly. NO REALLY LOUDLY.

She grunts, wait, she snorts with every paw that hits the floor.  This is a good thing at least we know where she is.

She thinks she is the boss OF EVERYTHING and EVERYONE!

She loves the ice cold weather.  I had to drive home with the air-conditioner on and the temp was only 48 degrees outside.

She is so round.  I would be willing to bet she is as big around and she is tall.   I am so very afraid to pick her up most of the time cause I am worried I will pop her like a pimple.  Yes, she is that tight.

This picture makes her look like a mid size dog but in reality she is a tea cup Chihuahua!  Doc says she should be between 2 and 4 pounds ONLY.  Oh my gosh what in the world did my dad feed her?  I know she loves the smell of coffee.

She has a wonkie eye and a little neuro damage in the back legs.  (I hope it is the weight that is causing problems.)

This dog is really strange looking and just a hair on the ugly side (appearance only)

She also comes with her own set of rules, which goes as follows:

1. If I like it, it’s mine.
2. If it’s in my mouth, it’s mine.
3. If I can take it from you, it’s mine.
4. If I had it a little while ago, it’s mine.
5. If it’s mine, it must never appear to be yours in any way.
6. If I rip it to pieces and stuffing is everywhere, all the pieces AND the stuffing are mine.
7. If it looks just like mine, it is mine.
8. If I saw it first, it’s mine.
9. If you are playing with something and you put it down, it automatically becomes mine.
10. If it’s broken, it’s yours.
11. If it’s broken, but you are having fun playing with the pieces, it’s mine again.
12. If there is ANY doubt, it’s mine.

And the one thing that really cements her place in our hearts and home is, if you say, “Show me your pearly whites.” she will lift her top lip and bare her little tiny teeth with a smile.  I think she is fundamentally  AWESOME

Fundamental Fridays: Love you through it <3

Although my dad passed from stomach cancer the true meaning of this song applies.  He was scared but I think we loved him through it.  Open the following site  if you would like to listen while you read I’m going to love you through it.

As I sit across from my dad’s hospital bed, I think back over the years of how strong and bigger than life he has always been to me.  I think of the times he would drop me off at school because I could not wake up on time.  How the one time in my life I reached out for my mom he stepped in and held my hand.  He gave me the courage to accept the reality of it all.  I think how I could not remember one single day in my dad’s life he was sick in bed.  He did have a heart attack very early in life but came out of the hospital fit as a fiddle after surgery. He changed his life style.   He was not even fazed.  He and I were never close when I was growing up.  I was a bit of a handful, more than he or mom could handle; and apparently, that started at age two when I ran away and the police found me about a mile away. I do not remember this, but no one ever let me forget it.

A few years ago my dad found himself helping to take care of Susan, a young woman and a victim of MS.  Her death had a profound affective on my dad.  So much so, it changed his life and a new relationship between us was born.  For eight years we called each other daily.  I felt he was projecting his feelings for Susan but I did not care.  I had my dad in my life.  What I thought was a fad, turned out to be a true and unending love.  Everyday for eight years we talked emailed or face booked.  He wrote a piece on FB that explained why the economy was tanking.  Then called to tell me that politicians were reading his post because he just heard a presidential candidate speech that repeated his post word for word.

My dad was wise, but yet, a bit naive, strong but gentle,  a wise cracker but kind, a man among men, a man with humor, an entertainer, a breakfast cooking fool. A man that raised and loved a son that turned out to be a most wonderful father and husband. He was a loving grandfather that would love so hard he inspired his oldest grandson to greatness as well.  He loved and prayed for a grandson that finally found his way, a granddaughter he thought the world of and praised her artistic talents.  He found hope and happiness in his other grandsons too. He took such pride in their athletic abilities, their intelligence as well as their creativity.   He was a great-grandfather to 4 awesome kids.  But most of all, my dad was a compass, a beacon of light for a little girl lost, that would be me.

In the end, my daddy put forth such an effort to live.  One that would rival any championship boxer, any basketball team even U of M, any sports team on earth.  My dad was one of two known people to survive an acute yeast infection in the blood according to the team of doctors he had. He made his doctors and surgeons cry.   He made his nurses hold on to one another. He made his family cling to one another. He had the love of his life and in the end she let him know how much she loved him.   He wanted to live more than any person I have ever known.  He did not want to leave my brother,  his daughter in law who stayed with him and cared for him just as hard as his own children, his grandsons, his granddaughter, his great grandkids,  his two precious doggies that got him through the day Susan and Gizmo and  his daughter (me).

My daddy, I love you and I thank you for giving me life, for loving me for who I turned out to be warts and all.  I pray we brought you comfort and enough courage to pass on to your next adventure.  We wanted to be with you every minute so you would not die alone.  I pray we loved you through it.

 

Wait at the gate for me daddy for it is you I want to see when I get there.

My daddy started the fundamental me.  My Daddy, my life,  November 16, 1932 to October 13, 2011  Passed from  Colon/Stomach Cancer. .

Fundamental Fridays – Elementary My Dear Idiom

.

Have you ever wondered where idioms come from? Not idiots, they are born.  I am talking about idioms.

.

id·i·om Noun/ˈidēəm/

1. A group of words established by usage as having a meaning not deducible from those of the individual words (e.g., raining cats and dogs).

2. A form of expression natural to a language, person, or group of people: “he had a feeling for phrase and idiom”.

.

Okay, the word idiom has been defined but how in the world were they coined?  My daughter hates it when I use idioms.  She complains that she has no idea what I am talking about.  Recently, I  found a few south western idioms that I am not familiar with and I too have no idea what they are talking about.

.

For example: 

Slicker than two snails porking in a bucket of snot.  (There was another word used instead of porking but I chose to change it.  Where did this saying come from? )

Or how about this one –   “If ya don’t know awhere’s you’re a goin’, it’d be a good idea not to use your spurs.”   (What does that mean anyway?  I would like to think it means be kind to all, but, who really knows?)

Or  –  “sucking the hind tit”, (What the heck?  Is there an order when it comes to tits?  Is the hind tit the good one or the bad one?  And is this referring to a cows tits? I am so seriously confused)

A few of these western idioms I have never heard before, but I can understand them. 

Don’t squat with your spurs on.  (yep, that one I get)

If all his brains were dynamite, there wouldn’t be enough to blow his nose.  (Yep, I have met folks like that)

If you ain’t making dust, you’re eating it. ( I got this one)

How about, Don’t be a woman that needs a man, be the woman a man needs.  (well I got news for the idiot that coined that phrase.  If we women knew how to deal with the crap a ma….    aahh, never mind )

Now, southern idioms make perfect sense to me.

I’m going to knock you into next week.  (this, to me, does not need explanation.  Is this even an idiom?  It does not even feel like an idiom)

Even a spotted dog looks black at night.  (this means things will look better in the morning)

  That dog won’t hunt.  (meaning it just ain’t going to happen)

The southern language is laced with  hidden meanings.

Ima gunna see a man about a dog.  (that means you don’t want anyone to know where you are going and you don’t want them to follow you)

She is such a lady. (the old saying is, you should never call a lady a b!*ch but you can always call a b!*ch a lady)

And my favorite and probably the most used –   Well, bless your heart.  ( most of the time that means you are stupid or something else that I absolutely will not write.) 

In the south, a minute – is more like a few hours ( that is not too far off from  mountain time)

Around the bend – is about 10 miles from the turn in the road ( 40 miles in the  mountains)

Directly – is when ever I get around to it (they don’t say directly here in the mountains)

Feelin’ poorly – that is southern code for I am hung over. (folks here on the mountain just tell it like it is.. I got a hang over)

And, down yonder –  can be as close as a few feet to as far as the next state. (they don’t say that here either but I sure do get a lot of flack when I use it).

If you can’t run with the big dogs, stay on the porch.

If I were any better, I would not know what to do with myself.

If I were any better, I would still be in the bed.

OMGosh, I can’t stop.  How did I get off on this tangent???

I gota stop.

Until next time, practice your idioms not your idiot-ism.

Fundamental Fridays – Dessert

The above is an entry I put on my facebook a few days ago.  I am so happy I was able to go see my hub’s grandma.  I had wanted to go to the home for a quite awhile.  Unfortunately, she is unable to communicate any longer.  She can not move any part of her body except her eyes and mouth.   However, those eyes speak volumes.

She has always had a serious sweet tooth and chocolate is her favorite.  When I left that night I decided the next time I go to see her I was going to bring her a chocolate dessert.  I had no idea if I could do it or not.  Was she on a restrictive diet?  I knew she didn’t have diabetes. And I knew she would enjoy her absolute favorite dessert immensely.  Two weeks later, I hid a chocolate frosty in my purse, shut the door to her room and feed it to her.  I got the biggest smile from her.  To me, she still remains a most beautiful woman.

As I was leaving, I adjusted her roomy’s pillow and got her glasses so she could see the news.  I also ran into the little lady with the bling.  Well, she ran into me as I was coming out of the room.  We chatted a bit.  She had no idea what she was talking about but she was so enthusiastic about it, ?, I just could not stop her so I grinned when she grinned and laughed when she laughed.

The one thing I took away with me that night is although we all age our fortitude is one thing we can take with us, if we choose to bring it.  And never let ageing take away your bling!

Next week’s dessert will be a chocolate coffee surprise.

Fundamental Fridays: Family ……….part 2

WARNING: If you missed last weeks post, This side of the Family….part 1, then you will not have a clue what is going on this week  And of course my disclaimer:  I was somewhere between 8 and 12 when all this was going on so the little incidentals maybe a bit fuzzy but the main events REALLY did happen.

I remember walking up to that trough of water and looking at it.  It was the color of that chocolate bull in the back yard!  I was NOT getting in.  I demanded clean water and I wanted it all to myself.   I was told to get in and get in right then, or else!Gulp.The water was ice cold just like my night!  I was so ready to get back home to my comfy warm bed and to my indoor restroom, complete with toilet, sink and bubble bath tubby.  I was fed up.

As soon as I got out of the tub, I ran to the bed and claimed the very center.  I had no idea which one of my cousin’s was the heating pad; but for prime real estate, I was willing to take a chance.  I was not going to get bumped again.  As everyone settled in and starting to drift off, I realized I had to use the bathroom.I asked my cousin beside me where the bathroom was.  She said out in the field.  I asked her again, and again she said, out in the field.  She was serious.  She asked me if I remembered the little shed that gave me the black-eye.  I said yes.  She tells me it is not called an out-house for nothing.  It is the bathroom.  I laid there stunned.  It was pitch dark outside, the out-house was at least an acre away, and let’s not forget the BULL who helped me get my black eye in the first place.  My mind’s eye was picturing him standing behind the out-house in wait of a little unsuspecting kid. Yep, there was no way on God’s green earth that I was going out there.  I believe one of the other cousins had the same fears as me; because later that night I found myself lying at the foot of the bed again without covers and icy wet!  I WANTED TO GO HOME.

The third day was hot I mean really hot.  We rode the horses.  Played hide and seek but no stick ball in the field.  As long as I was there I was not going to get dirty again. My parents told me after dinner we would be heading back home.  Home to my little world I called paradise.  It is funny, you think your life is so horrible until you live horrible for three days.  We all sat down to eat and I noticed the fan was blowing the air out the window instead of in!  I needed air people.  I suggested turning the fan around but that was quickly dismissed.  They said it makes for a cooler house this way.  I remembered thinking they are ALL nuts and I share their blood.  (we did not know the term genes back then)  Of course, now I know the reasoning behind Grams logic.

That summer will forever be etched in my mind.  I both loved it and hated it, but no matter what, I am grateful I had that time in my life.  After I became an adult, I went back to Grams.  The house had not changed one iota.  The lay out of the furniture was the same.  The structure of the house the same; however there was one improvement.  An indoor bathroom, equipped with sink, toilet and a claw foot tub, genius.  And guess where they put it….on the back porch!

When I looked back for the last time, I saw that little home for what is really was.   It was no more than a little tiny farmhouse.  The porch that I remembered as huge is now no bigger than a minute.  And that big kitchen, small as well.  In fact, I have a hard time seeing how we all packed into that little farm house my daddy grew up in.

I know, I know I skipped D and E.  I will return to them next week.

Until next time