Thursday, February 25, 2016

stranger than fiction

Almost all of the tales I tell here are real life experiences that I've either had myself or shared through somebody else and the bottom line is this : Everybody has a story begging to be told  I still regret not spending that weekend in May years ago with my late friend Deb so she could tell me hers.  I knew the highlights and was pretty afraid of the details so it's probably best that it never got written. Her entire family turned against her on that deal and she was the victim.

Many families fracture over kept secrets that spill out at the oddest times and manifest themselves as shady behavior or mad rants on the porch while sipping sweet tea or mint juleps.  We dress up our crazy and parade around the yard in the South.  My day was totally made when Yaya stopped by with a surprise that reminded her of me.  If the paint ever dries around here it will be hung in a place of honor like all the other pieces that I treasure.  My soul is so weary that I just want to quit sometimes.  But then I think about the fact that I'm all I've got and that sort of keeps me motivated to be somewhat sane because if you're not that and kind of healthy you end up you-know-where.  I'm counting on BG to use that social work degree in caring for me when I'm not able.  Almost a nurse, you know.

Everybody and their brother is sick again so you know what that means...hustle and flow at the sawmill.  In my younger years Thursday was ladies night because the kudzu bar had dollar beer and we rarely had to buy our own date.  I was single and they were all eternally married but looking and it was harmless fun.  I always knew that they had my back, no questions asked.  Yaya fell off the dance floor onto Bill Bizzle's head and then smacked the tile. Me and Redneck Friend witnessed it from behind the pool table and thought we were having flashbacks.

There was a guy named Sap who owned it first and then Geno bought it after he sold the deli.  When Gene got ready to become a retirement farmer Terry and Bev scooped it up.  After Terry died, Bev sold to Dunagan who owns it still.  It's cozy and familiar territory for a lot of folks.   The Hideaway sits right behind it next to the river and David Lee's shop/home.  Plus...always with the tire places!  There is a trail that winds around behind there over the iron bridge into Southtown where it always floods.  I've spent a lot of time on that bridge peering over the rails and not worrying at all about falling in.  I mean...there's snakes down there y'all.

Over at Forked Deer south on the 51 highway is the part where Daddy always said hello to Bradshaw on the way home from church.  I think he owned that parcel at one time or another.  He was the clerk and master of our court system for many years and had a wife named Mommy, I kid you not.  Plus, he made excellent chocolate pies.  Lily is perched on the new window sill bird watching which is pretty fun to watch.  She talks to them you know?  Mostly she's asking me for food which I can't find because it's all covered in plastic.  Well except for the view from my desk.

Grace ~

1 comment:

  1. I hope my husband never tries to call me "Mommy." That might be the last word he ever speaks.