Jesus and a Walking Horse

 

 When I was younger my family didn't attend church very often. Most of the time it was only on Easter with the occasional visit from preachers my Grandparents would send to talk to Mama and Daddy. This didn't go over very well because my parents didn't want to be pointed out or made feel less for not going to church.  When I started dating my now husband John, I started going to church with him. I later joined his church, and the rest is history. One morning I was home, and the phone rang. It was Mama telling me that she and Daddy had been saved! I was overjoyed and cried tears of extreme joy! 

Before I ever met John, Mama and me would visit one of the churches in our town. The pastor was a nice man who was one of the funniest people I had ever met. When he found out I played fiddle, he wouldn't have it any other way but to take fiddle lessons from me. We started with lessons, and it was an experience to say the least. I will just say he did ok, but we quickly realized the fiddle wasn't his instrument. He once said, " If my wife doesn't leave me over this she never will.".  The fiddle isn't for the faint of heart, and when a person is learning to play it's one of the most "troubling" sounds you will ever hear. The longer he took lessons the closer friendship we developed with he and his family. One Sunday after the sermon, he came to Mama and me and told me he wanted to introduce me to a young man who goes to church there. I was hesitant but eventually gave in and went on a date with him. He was very nice and came from a wonderful family, but I knew this wasn't a match. He came to my house to pick me up and we headed out. I asked him what his plans were and where were we going. He told me we were going to meet up with some his friends at a small party. I wasn't sure about this because I didn't know his friends and I didn't want to go to a party where it might be things going on I didn't want to take part in.  I asked him if it was going to be ok and how I didn't want to be around anything wild.  He told me it would be fine, but it may get loud at times. He told me they were having food, and it would be a great time. After he told me there would be free food, I was all in for the good time. I figured while the wild stuff was going on I could hang out at the food table and eat. We drove to the nearby town and into a residential neighborhood. We pulled up to a very nice home where there were several cars in the driveway and street.  I said to myself, "here goes nothing.". We walked in the house, and what I saw left me confused.  There were people our age all sitting around in the floor and on the furniture. The hosts welcomed us and asked for us to take a seat. I looked around and there were no seats open, so I said to myself, "Tina, I guess you're going to have to plop your fluffy rear end on the floor.". Now don't get me wrong. I wasn't a huge person, but I did have fluff to my rump. After I made my way onto the floor, he sat down beside me. Still baffled, the hosts came up and welcomed us all to the bible study! Now I'm all for Jesus and love him with all of my heart, but this was NOT what I was prepared for. I had worn jeans that were not loose enough to be sitting on the floor. I had my legs crossed which made my pants cut my circulation off to ever part of my lower body. They were cutting my stomach off so bad I wanted to unbutton them, but I didn't think it would be appropriate for me to halt the bible study in the middle of John 3:16 for me to stand up and unbutton my tight jeans. As the hosts were talking about salvation, I could feel the numbness creeping from my feet to my knees and them being completely paralyzed from the waist down. I couldn't hear anything but my date asking me if I was ok, and the man's teaching reaching a fevered pitch about Hell. I heard the word hell because that is what I felt like I was in. The longer I sat there the more upset I got. I knew the lesson would end eventually and I would have to get up. My date was a very thin, shorter person and I knew he wouldn't be able to help me get up off the floor. After an hour and a half of me sitting in the floor, it was over, and it was time to eat. Everybody took off to the kitchen and my date told me we could go join them if I wanted too. At that time, it wasn't a matter of wanting to join them, it was a matter of me getting my numb body off of the soft carpet. I told my date to go join everybody and I would be in there shortly. He left, while I sat on the floor for about a minute, trying to come up with a strategy for how I could get up.  Keep in mind, I was sitting in the floor with my legs stretched out in front of me and I couldn't feel anything from my waist down.  After thinking a while, I realized I was sitting beside a nice wing backed chair. I knew if I could make it to that chair, I would be able to pull myself up and sit there until the feeling came back to my legs. I started rocking back and forth while keeping a close eye on the kitchen hoping none of the sweet people huddled around the table of food saw me. The smell of barbequed little smokies, sandwiches, dips and desserts flooded the house and that was my motivation to keep rocking. I could taste the little smokies with every rock, and I could feel the cool whipped topping singing a chorus of Hallelujah as I took a bite. As I rocked like a ship on the high seas, I grabbed the chair. I had done it! I had made my way to the chair and pulled myself into the seat.  I had sat there for a minute and the feeling had finally come back into my lower body. With my head back and eyes closed, I felt a tap on my arm. It was my date asking if I was ready to come into the kitchen and be with everybody. I felt a little guilty because I hadn't taken part in the get together and all I had done was plan on getting out of there.  So, I told him I would, and I stood up. Even though the feeling had come back to my legs, the fun wasn't over. As I was pulling myself up to the chair, I sneezed! When I sneezed, it released a toot that sounded like a tugboat approaching a dingy in the Mississippi river. The toot was then followed by a little squirt of pee. My date looked at me and said, "Oh Tina, that was gross! I hope the others didn't hear it. You probably need to change your clothes because that will make you smell.". At this point my nostrils flared, and my jaw tightened. I told myself not to go redneck on him since we had just talked about the love of Christ. I have to tell you though; it was hard to do since the room smelled like rotten cabbage and I was afraid I was going to start stinking like an open can of sardines from my wet pants.  I kept my mouth shut and stood from my chair. The first step I took I could feel the sensations in my legs. Every step I took, my legs raised higher. By the time I made it across the room I looked like a Tennessee walking horse preparing for the next big show. My date looked at my legs and asked, "What's wrong with your legs?". I told him, "I was practicing my walk with the Lord, and he didn't need to question it.". After high stepping my way from the cabbage filled room to the kitchen, I realized the little smokies had been devoured after a short blessing of thankfulness. This blessing would've been about the time I was rocking like a boat. But I will tell you, it wasn't the love boat! The disappointment was written across my face. Everyone was laughing and having a good time, when one girl said, "Hey everybody let's go to Denny's!". I really wanted to go home since I was in no way suitable to be in public, but I went anyway. I visited the bathroom where I dried my undergarments the best I could. I could see the lady of the house had a bottle of powders in a cabinet in front of me. I thought this might be a band aid to cover any and all odors that might creep up on me. I opened the cabinet door and the OPEN powders fell to the floor creating a fog of white like an explosion at a cocaine factory! I picked up the bottle and doused my underwear, while kicking the powder on the floor under the cabinet with my feet. After I was finished, I walked out of the bathroom. The fog was still in the air and the smell of rose pedals surrounded me, but I never broke my stride. I thanked the hosts for having me into their home (even though I had stunk up the den, peed in their chair and dumped rose petal flower scented powders all over the bathroom), and walked outside. Before I walked out, I looked behind me. I saw footprints following me and I realized it was the powders I had kicked under the cabinet. People were wondering where they came from and I said, "Have you heard of the Footprints in the Sand from Jesus poem? I'll bet our hosts set that up for us.".  Everyone loaded into their cars, and we left for the restaurant. One our way my date asked me what kind of music I liked. Of course, being from a bluegrass family, that was my number one music, but country was a close second. Instead of answering him, I asked what he liked.  He said, "I like most music, but I HATE country and I despise bluegrass!". That was it! I could take everything that had happened that night, you know the fart, powder, piss and walking horse imitation, but I draw the line at bluegrass. I was done and this date was over. We had nothing in common and I wanted to go home right then. We walked into the restaurant and sat down. I had been sitting most of the night, but after over and hour of waiting for his food, I told him I had to be home by 10 and we needed to leave. I know I know! It sounded bad, but the dampness from my "accident" and the combination of powders had left me with a squishy feeling of rose petal scented biscuit dough in my drawers. He got his food and we left. When I opened the car door to get in, I saw where there was a perfect white imprint of my rear end in the seat. The powder had left him a copy of my butt with the perfect crack down the middle. I closed my eyes and sat down.  I scooted in the seat a little, like a dog scratching its glands across the floor, in hopes it would erase the impression. He drove me home and I bid him good night. He asked if I would like to go out again, and I said, "I don't think so! This night was too busy for me, and I need to go fix me some biscuits!". Thank GOD he had no clue what that meant, but it made for a good laugh for my family. I never saw him again after that, and I hope and pray he found someone who treats him well and they have a good life together. I'm sure if he ever sees a walking horse with gas and white feet that plays bluegrass music, he will think of me...

Guts Gone Wrong..

 I have so many memories running through my mind, it's hard to keep up with them.  The main themes to my stories, are pretty much centered around and on Turkey Hop Hill.  I have good memories of my paternal grandparents, and I will share stories of them soon, but I spent most of my time with my maternal grandparent simply because we lived next to them.  

Everything (for the most part) Granny cooked and put on the table was from their gardens or fields.  From corn meal made in Paw's mill, to fresh meat, milk, eggs, and vegetables.  Every day around noon was the big event.  As soon as the food went on the table, the cars started showing up in the driveway.  Lots of feet went under that kitchen table, and no belly left hungry.  When I would stay all night with them, I had to be up by at least 6 am.  My Paw was always the one to wake me up.  I would always sleep in Granny's bed.  Yes, they had separate beds.  Their house was big, and their bedroom was big enough for 2 regular beds with plenty of room left over.  There was no heat in the room, and the only light was a single bulb in the ceiling with a long piece of fabric hanging down to pull so the light would come on.  In the winter the room was so cold you could see your breath.  Right before bed they would open the door so the room could heat up a little.  It didn't help much since it was 40 below in there and at any moment, I was sure a penguin would waddle out to tell me good night.  Granny had about 30 blankets and quilts on her bed.  After I would lay down, she would start stacking them on me.  I had so much weight on me, there was no way possible for me to move.  I couldn't turn over, move my arms, legs or anything.  I'm sure if she had her way, she would have put one over my head so I would be quiet and go to sleep.  After she got me, all taken care of, she would lay down.  Granny was very short, so her process of getting in bed was a show in itself.  She would face the bed and when she thought it was the right time, she would take a leap of faith and flop in the bed onto her side.  After she was all set, she would throw her leg up and let out a roar (toot) that could be heard by all of the animals in the Namibian dessert.  Birds would fly from their nests and pray the wind from the storm wouldn't blow their nests away.  I actually think any varmint nearby would run in hopes of evading the trauma.  I saw a video of an "A bomb" one time, and my mind went straight to Granny.  After she had expelled all of the demons from her backside, I started to cry and gag.  Remember!  I couldn't move because I was weighted down with the house full of blankets, so I had no other choice but to take it.  She thought this was extra funny and she would laugh until she cried.  I almost think I deserved it from what all I had put her through that day.  While I was crying and she was laughing, I could hear Paw chime in from his side of the room.  "Inez, I don't know what you eat today but I think it has rotted your guts."  He would also say, "don't do that baby like that, because she don't want to smell your sh*t no more than I do."  Those words didn't faze Granny, she felt victorious!  After the fumes had settled, we all went to sleep.  At 4 a.m., the both of them would get up and start their busy day.  Paw would go milk the cow, while granny would start breakfast and then pour up the milk after Paw had brought it inside.  When it was around 5:30, Paw would come into the room where I was sleeping and start the painful process of waking me up.  Paw's approach was much different than Granny's.  Granny would usually barge in the door and say "Get up Tina and I'm not going to tell you again.  If you aint up by the time I come back I'm dragging you out of that bed".   I am happy to say a majority of time Paw was the one who woke me up.  He would walk into the room and pat me gently on the face.  While he was patting my face he would say in the sweetest voice, "Teeny you think you want to get up?  Granny has breakfast almost ready, so let's get up and go get some of that good food."  I would normally get up and feel my way to the living room where he would have my clothes over a straight-backed chair in front of the heater.  He would have my clothes nice and warm so I could put them on.  After I was dressed, we would make our way to the kitchen where the feast was.

The meat on the table was bacon, ham, and sausage.  This meat came from the smokehouse and was from the hogs they raised and butchered themselves. Every year at the same time the yard would fill with certain people they had invited, and the annual job of hog killing would take place.  Everyone had their jobs, and in return they would be able to take home part of what they had worked for.  To be honest, I HATED this time of the year!!!!  I have always hated the sound of a gun.  Don't get me wrong, I am a big Second Amendment supporter, but I am not interested one bit in guns.  So when it came time for "that" part of the process, I would run and hide in Granny and Paw's bedroom.  Paw would come in and get the gun from the rack, and I would say "Is that the gun that isn't loud?"  He would always tell me yes, and for me to stay there and he would come get me when it was all over.  He never let me down, and I never had to hear the blast from the gun.  It doesn't make sense.  I was terrified of the loud noise, but the part that came next never bothered me one bit.  Outside there were stations, and different people were at those stations.  One station in particular was the "chittlin'" station!  At this station is where Granny was the supervisor.  There would be a brand-new water hose strictly for this station.  After the "item" was removed from the hog, the water hose would be placed in the opening and the water would be turned on.  There would be so much poop flying out of the opposite end, it looked like a spreader truck full of liquid fertilizer was making its rounds through a hay field!  When everything was "clean" she would take them and start cutting them up.  All of those things went in the freezer after they had passed Granny's inspection.  No matter how much you clean those things, you will never get the poop smell out of them.  If you wonder what chittlins smell like, imagine standing behind a hog and getting a whiff of their past meals.  Yes, they smell just like crap!  For some reason Granny and other crazy family members loved them so much they would plan a day just to cook them.  Funny, nobody would show up for a free meal that day!  One day Granny had planned a chittlin' cooking day.  Mama, my aunt Mary, Granny, my uncle Bubba, and any other nut who was crazy enough to show up, would start cooking.  They would pressure cook them first (after another good washing) to get them tender enough to fry.  Everything was set!  the oil was poured into the pot, the meal and other seasonings were mixed and ready for the tender meat to come out of the cooker.  During the preparations, Granny must had gotten something mixed up.  She was always like a dog with rabies when it came to chittlins'.  She would almost be foaming at the mouth in anticipation for her disgusting delicacy, so there is no wonder she had a slip.  The cooker started to jingle like Santa coming down the chimney.  With every jingle, Granny's mouth watered even more.  The jingle had reached a fevered pitch, when all at once, there was a great explosion.  Remember the "A Bomb" coming from Granny's backside?  Well, the sound was louder than that, but had the same smell.  The pressure had built so much, the top of the cooker blew completely off.  When the mist had cleared and everybody realized what had happened, the sight was like nothing anybody had ever seen.  The cooker top had blown to the ceiling and ended up across the room on the floor.  There were hog guts hanging from the light fixture, curtains, refrigerator and I do believe there were pieces hanging from the telephone.  My aunt was covered in the juices that made it look like she had just had a relaxing moment at her favorite spa.  There were gut juices dripping from the ceiling above the stove that would have made you think of a waterfall deep in the forest made entirely of septic tank water.  When the explosion happened, Daddy and Paw were outside on the front porch.  When they heard the noise, they sprang into action.  They ran like a flash into the kitchen, where they saw a sight that would be forever known as, "Guts Gone Wrong.. Season 1".  The smell was absolutely unbearable, but there sat granny!  She was heartbroken because her favorite meal was hanging from her glasses instead of in her belly.  Paw saw her sad face and he asked, "Inez are you alright?"  She looked at him and said, "This is one of the worst days.  It may smell bad to y'all but it shore smells good to me!".  With a serious look on his face he replied with, "Well if you think the smell of hog sh*t smells good, you have a bigger problem than the pressure blowing up!".......  The stain of chittlin' juice was on the ceiling for years after that...

RENT ME.... TRAVEL AMERICA...

For 20 years I traveled with a bluegrass gospel band called Cannan's Crossing.  It started after John and me married and I joined his church.  The first time I visited, I heard singing like I had never heard before.  The choir was unbelievable, and the solos were just as good.  One Sunday the choir was singing a song.  During one part, the choir director was featured.   I was completely blown away when Tim Maze started to sing.  I had never heard a voice so pure and powerful.  I was raised strictly bluegrass, so I knew nothing about southern gospel.  When Tim started singing, I realized if that is what southern gospel sounded like, then I needed to hear more.  Another Sunday, Tim and two other folks sang a trio special.  This was the first time I heard Andy Wilks sing.  Andy had a different style, but he and Tim blended perfectly together.  After I was there for a while, I knew I wanted so bad to sing with Tim and Andy.  I knew Andy played guitar, but I had no idea Tim could play.  We all got together one night, and it was right!  Tim played bass, Andy played guitar, and I played fiddle of course.  After we had gotten a few songs together, we would visit different revivals and sing our songs.  We had been singing at every revival service in the surrounding counties, and we had made a small name for ourselves.  We got the call one day to play at the local music barn that had gotten to be a "big deal".  I would like to say I was excited and ready to go, but in reality, I was TERRIFIED!  It was just the three of us, and we only had a few songs we really felt comfortable singing for people.  We needed two other people to play, and the 2 people I couldn't get off of my mind were Junior Saint and Wayne Burgett.  These two men had been part of my life since I was just a little girl.  I can't remember exactly who contacted them, but I was so happy to hear they accepted our invitation to play the show with us.  We practiced hard and eventually had two good set lists we felt people would enjoy.  The night of the show finally came.  I was so nervous I wanted to faint, but the other guys seemed confident, so that helped ease my worries.  We took the stage and when the curtain opened, we started the music.  People were cheering while we played our hearts out.  After we finished, I remember thinking, if I never played another note I was as happy as I had ever been.  After that show, it seemed like the whirl wind started.  As the years went on, members changed.  With each change brought new sounds and ideas.  We would win awards, and travel to different places.  We would meet people and hear their personal stories of struggle, disappointment, and blessings God had given them.  We would sing for people in a church of 20, then the next weekend play for a church of 200.  Every time and every trip was something new and exciting.  We enjoyed any and every kind of casserole known to man, and one time we were even served potato salad sandwiches.  No matter how many people we played for, no matter what type of buildings we played in, and no matter how many potato salad sandwiches we ate there was nothing more rewarding than when we would sing a song and someone would come to the altar and accept the Lord.  We knew it wasn't anything we did, but we loved knowing God had used us to reach someone.  The day we got a call to go play a show several states away, we thought we had hit the big time.  We didn't have a bus, or even a wagon to travel in.  We used our personal vehicles to drive to each singing, so we had no idea how we were going to get to that state.  One of the members had the idea of renting an RV.  One of the guys went to pick up the RV, and we were ready to go.  John and I got packed and headed to meet the band, so we could leave on our big tour.  As we were turning onto the driveway, we could see the big RV.  The closer we got, we could see a huge banner all down the side of the big machine.  RENT ME!!  TRAVEL AMERICA!!!  That is what we saw.  Everybody had a good laugh, but the laughter stopped when we realized anyone who drove the rv should've been present at pick up, to show proper ID so they could be added to the list of drivers.  This meant only ONE person could drive and that was Wayne!  After a moment of head scratching, we laughed it off and went on our way.  On a trip like that, it was only natural that each band member would bring their spouses and kids.  Wayne was a good driver, so we weren't worried about getting anywhere safe.  We had laughs, sang and just all together enjoyed our trip together.  We talked about the big things we would do when we got to the concert area.  We were supposed to do radio interviews, have our own private tent with food and drinks.  We were supposed to be paid more than we had ever made and have a crowd of 500 people or more.  The closer we got, the more the trip had taken a toll on Wayne.  He was exhausted, and more than ready to park that rv and enjoy the good food in our future.  After the last mile was driven, we had reached our destination!  The air was slowly being let out of our balloons when we saw the "concert area".  It was a makeshift stage surrounded by blue tarps, in the middle of a red dirt field.  The private tent where we could relax, was to porta potties that hadn't been emptied because the company had closed for the weekend.  While we stood there with our mouths opened and noses covered from the stench of the overflowing potties, we realized all of our promises were worth about as much as the contents of those potties.  We were thrilled when the promoters came to us to let us know they had fixed food for us.  We ran to that table like a female wolf trying to feed 20 pups.  We ate so many hot dogs in those two days, we should have bought stock in Oscar Myer!  Oh, I forgot to mention the radio show was not going to happen.  I guess the same people who were supposed to pump the potties, scheduled that interview.  Our big 500+ crowd was really just 7 people sitting in front of the stage and 5 of those people were us!  After our final set, we packed up and Wayne flew out of there slinging rocks and red mud.  The last thing those folks saw of us was the back end of the RV going down the road with RENT ME.. TRAVEL AMERICA glaring in their faces!  The next day, we had a church to play at, and it was such a relief.  The closer we got to the church, the darker the skies got.  The darker the skies got, the more the wind picked up.  We started getting concerned when we saw all of the downed power lines and oak trees on the street leading to the church.  Come to find out those dark clouds and high winds was actually a tornado touching down ahead of us.  Wayne strategically maneuvered the RV through the chaos, and the RENT ME bus pulled up the church!  The church had no power and the people had no intentions of letting us get out of playing.  This was fine by us, because Wayne was done with driving and we were starved and looking forward to the good food we were about to eat.  Before we sang the church's pastor told us the food was ready and for us to dig in.  With elbows flying we made our way quickly to the fellowship hall.  When we got there we saw the biggest plate of hot dogs we'd seen yet.  Our faces got pale and our stomachs did a back flip, but we didn't want to offend anyone, so we ate those hot dogs like we had never had them before.  We sang with no power, and the church was getting darker and darker.  When it was over, we loaded up with joy in our hearts because we knew we were headed to Alabama where we never had to see another hot dog again if we didn't want to.  We made it the Alabama state line and we had to have some real food.  We stopped at restaurant and filled our bellies with real food.  One of our members (I won't mention which one), ordered a western omelet, and devoured it so fast not even a crumb was left.  We hit the road as the darkness began to fall.  We had so many people in the RV, we had people sitting up to sleep.  As we got closer and closer to our homes, we noticed the RV going faster and faster.  Tim and his family were in the back bedroom, with his wife and son sleeping in the queen-sized bed. After we were all awake, we knew something was wrong.  Tim and his family had the worst of the deal.  They had no other choice but to hold on and pray they didn't have to keep doing football style drills in the bed because the trip was getting more intense after every mile.  You see, the multitude of hot dogs and omelet had taken their told on the digestive tract of our member and were about to make their appearances with no apologies!  Just when all hope was about to be lost, the beautiful lights of the Shell service station glowed like the Heavens had opened!  We turned into the parking lot on two wheels like a racecar taking a lap around turn 3 at a dirt track race.  As we came to an abrupt stop, our band brother ran like wind through the parking lot.  While the people in the RENT ME.. TRAVEL AMERICA RV were putting things back together from the wild ride we had just taken, our brother was releasing the demon that had been festering inside him.  We made it to the original meeting spot, then headed home.  That is the weekend we learned you need to make sure everybody who wants to drive better show up and show ID.  Another lesson learned, was we couldn't always count on the big promises made to us would be true.  Probably the most valuable lesson of the trip was, too many hot dogs will challenge your prayer life and the reliability of your sphincter muscle!  Finally, RENT ME.... TRAVEL AMERICA.... 

There's a Horse on My Porch

 When the DD's rolled into town, it was an experience to say the least.  Like I've said before, they were not looked at by the community as the model citizens or the kind of folks you would want to sit at your supper table and visit.  But for me it was different!  I never saw them like society saw them.  They were rough looking customers and I'm sure they were really scary to some.  Not to me!  The rough and tough exterior didn't show as much as the actions they showed to my family and myself.  The president of the Club was one of my favorites because he was so good to me.  If he didn't strangle me when I turned my dog loose on him, he must have had a soft spot for me.  I had never seen a man with a gold tooth, turquoise jewelry, leather jacket, (and my personal favorite) a naked lady tattoo on the inside of his arm.  Those things didn't matter to me!  When he would come to see my grandparents, I would stand close to his side and look up at his 6'4 frame and feel like I had a friend who would do anything for me.  I know without a shadow of a doubt if I had been hurt by someone, all I would have to do is go to him and tell him what had happened.  I don't know what the group would've done to the person, but I am sure I would never have to fear them hurting me again.  

Looking back now I realize how Dan had the heart to look out for my Daddy.  Daddy loved to ride his motorcycle and dreamed of the day when he could wear the "cut" and ride with the club.  Dan knew my Daddy wasn't a mean man, nor could he fight and do the things needed to be done to be part of the club.  It was never a possibility of him being a member of the club because Dan wouldn't have it.  One day when Daddy came back from the clubhouse, our car was missing its radio.  Mama threw a fit and asked him why our car was missing the radio.  Daddy said, "Well one of the boys at the clubhouse needed it because he didn't have one in his car".  When Mama heard his explanation, she loaded me up in the "radio-less" Zephyr and headed to the clubhouse with smoke rolling and lifters knocking.  She honked the horn and one of the guys came to the door.  He automatically yelled for Dan because this guy had no interest in dealing with this crazy woman with a little girl hanging out the window!  Dan came to the door to see who was outside, and then walked to our car. Mama proceeded to bless him out and demanded our radio back.  After a few minutes and a phone call later, our radio was installed where it came from.  After the installation and another good chewing out, Mama and me headed back for home with smoke still rolling and lifters knocking more than normal.   

The club would have some doozies of parties and as you would expect there was heavy drinking and loud music.  Fortunately, my parents were smart enough to not allow me anywhere near that kind of atmosphere.  The club loved to get fresh vegetables from my grandparent's garden, but if you get down to the truth of the matter, their favorite thing to do was drink my Paw's homemade wine.  This wine was pretty much alcoholic Kool-Aid, but it got the job done.  The dad of one of the "Old Ladies" had a farm on a couple of roads down from my grandparents.  Daddy R's farm had horses and cows and a big pond that Granny and me would visit quite often.  One hot summer day, my Granny was taking a break from her chores and was sitting on the front porch.  One of our past times was sitting on the porch watching cars go by, and Granny throwing up the occasional bird finger at cars she thought were going too fast.   This day in particular wasn't much different than any other.  The cars were extra fast, so Granny was already worked up and the bird finger had been working overtime.  During a break in the action, Granny heard something strange.  She couldn't figure out what the noise was, but it was getting louder as every second passed.  When the "clopping" sound got really close she looked to her left.  Granny realized the noise was from a white horse trotting up the road.  On that horse was Dan!  He had gone to Daddy R's house and found a horse in the pasture.  After he saddled the horse, he made his way to Turkey Hop Hill.  Held the reigns in one hand and a bottle in the other.  Dan was singing and laughing as he turned the horse into the driveway where he stopped at the bottom of the steps.  There were steps on the north side of the porch, and also a set leading out of the front door facing the road.  Granny was sitting near the north side steps where had Dan stopped.  My Granny was a spit fire and was ready for a fight anytime and anywhere.  Dan was tanked up on homemade wine and beer and he started giving Granny a hard time about what he was going to do.  He told her he was going to sit on the porch with her, but he was going to ride the big white horse up the steps to do this. After several exchanges back and forth, Dan back the horse and proceeded to ride up the steps.  Granny yelled and said she was going to get the shot gun and run him off, but that threat didn't faze Dan.  He was determined to ride that horse up on the porch.  He had made it halfway up the steps when Granny came out of the house carrying a shot gun.  She pointed that shot gun right at the horse's nose and told Dan if he didn't want his horse and himself to bite the dust, he better back it down the steps and be on his way.  Dan thought he may need to take this little woman serious because she would probably honor her word.  He carefully backed the horse back down the steps and hit the road with the horses' shoes clopping at a faster pace than when he was on his way.  After he was out of sight, Granny put the shot gun under her arm and went back inside.  She put the gun back in the rack and went back out on the porch to continue her relaxing and bird flipping.  A few days later Dan came back to visit.  After he had sobered up, he realized what he had done.  He had scared the lady who fed him when he was hungry, showed he and his friends love, had just been all around good to him.  Those thoughts were more than he could stand.  He told Granny how sorry he was, and how that kind of thing would never happen again.  Dan kept that promise and he never came back to see my grandparents in that condition again.  Many years later, I was able to visit Dan on his death bed.  He had been told I was coming the next day to see him, and he was happy.  He started telling stories of "that little black headed fiddle playing girl who had a mean streak a mile wide".  When I got to the clubhouse where he was staying, he had already gone into a coma.  I talked to him in the hope he could hear me.  I thanked him for being good to me when I was a little girl and leaving me with an endless number of good memories.  The next day I was contacted by his club brothers to tell me he had passed away.  I was invited to the funeral and of course I went.  It was unlike any funeral I had ever been too!  I'm not sure if it was the Hank Jr. and AC/DC music playing, or the people passing around the Old Crow whiskey bottle.  Either way, I was able to say goodbye to an old friend who may have been scary to others, but to me he was just my friend.... Dan....

Home Sweet Home Brew

 

The memories I have of living in "the old trailer" have flooded my mind and lifted my spirits here lately.  I have said before, I'm no different than anybody else and I have some not so fun memories.  Like the old Flatt and Scruggs song says, "I know all the good things outweigh the bad".  I lived down the hill from my grandparents for the first 10 years of my life.  I like to refer to those years as DDY and ADY.  Of course, that means During Drinking Years, and After Drinking Years!  In 1985, Daddy put the beer down and didn't drink again.  Because of that we bought a house, and had it moved to the backside of my Grandparent's property and made a nice home where I lived until I married.  Mama wasn't much of a drinker, and the only time I ever saw her with a cigarette in her mouth, was when she was mad at Daddy.  Now, he wasn't much of a smoker either, but he had a tendency to want to look tough.  Oh yeah, he was a real tough looking guy coming in at 5'6 and 130lbs (soaking wet)! During the DYs we would make 2 (sometimes 3 if it was an emergency) trips to the beer store.  We lived in a dry county and couldn't buy alcohol.  We mostly would drive to Etowah County, but on rare occasions we would go to Morgan County.  I will never forget trips to the beer store. I have always struggled with ear problems since I was a small child.  I would have ear infections on a regular basis.  Daddy would usually get home from work around 3:30 pm, and on beer run days, we would leave not long after he got home.  There were days when I had an earache so bad, I would get in the backseat of the car and lay my head down on the seat and sleep the entire way.  Those were the not so fun days.  There were other days when I wasn't sick, I was happy to take a drive.  I wasn't allowed to go in with Daddy, but he would always get me a treat.  My favorite surprise was when he would bring me a Yoo Hoo, Slim Jim, and a pickled egg.  That one makes me laugh every time.  To this day I can put a hurtin' on a jar of picked eggs.  These days I shy away from the Yoo Hoos and Slim Jims with them, but I like to enjoy them all separately.  One time we went to a different store.  I was just learning to read, and I asked Mama, "what are cold bevers?".  She said, "WHAT?"  I asked her again what cold bevers were.  Confused, she said she didn't know what a cold bever was and asked me where I saw it.  It told her it right there on the side of the building.  She read the sign, and it said, "Cold Beverages!".  Still to this day when we pass that old building, I think about the cold bevers the sold.

  

My uncle, who was my Mama's Sister's husband, loved his beer too.  I can still smell him right now.  He ALWAYS had a smell of beer on him and I'm not sure it didn't ooze from his skin acting like cologne due to the amount he drank.  The difference between Daddy and my uncle was my uncle made his own beer.  He was a pro at this process, and never seemed to make a mistake.  I Daddy would have admitted it, he was quite envious of Uncle D for being able to create such a product.  Daddy and Uncle D worked at the same place, but Uncle D was "fancy" because he worked where the air conditioning was!  Daddy worked in the nastiest unhealthy places in the plant.  He had watched Uncle D come home from a hard day's work and have beer on hand with never having to take the Oregon Trail to buy what he drank.  One day Uncle D talked Daddy into making his own home brew!  He walked him through the process and gave him all of the pointers he could give.  Daddy went to the store and bought all of the supplies and came home to get started.  He used a SMALL bedroom we used for a closet as his laboratory.  After he got everything set up, the room resembled a high school biology lab.  Just to be honest, there was probably more success produced from that school lab than came from that closet.  Daddy needed one more item he had forgotten at the store, so of course, we loaded up in the Zephyr and headed out.  After we got home, he began putting the ingredients together and just all around making sure everything was secured and processing nicely.  A couple of days later I was dancing around the house in my favorite clogging shoes when I heard a boom.  I dropped to the floor because I knew our gas stove had blown up from my dancing showcase!  When everything was deemed ok, I went back to clogging down our hallway again.  The smell hit me first, then I noticed my taps stopped tapping.  Before my eyes could look to the floor, my feet flew out from under me, and I found myself in a pool of soured water.  I looked to my right and saw the laboratory had exploded!  There was soured liquid shooting straight up in the air and foam rolling out of the plastic tubs.  Mama had realized what was going on and she started her war chant like our ancestors did before going to battle with the neighboring tribes.  She started a frenzied fit of throwing towels and yelling for Daddy using words that had nothing to do with "I love you".  Before Mama's frantic clean up attempt started, she grabbed me by the arm and started to drag me from the battlefield just like a proud soldier would by not leaving his war brothers behind.  I was screaming and crying because I was soaking wet in this rotten smelling liquid, but mostly I was upset because my tap shoes had gotten wet and wouldn't tap with the rattle like I liked.  Daddy walked in and got a glimpse of his lab.  He splashed through the carnage like a road runner running from a coyote!  He had the big tub in one hand, a bucket under his arm, with another bucket in his other hand.  Just like when Mama had thrown out his favorite ceramic horse, Daddy was throwing buckets out the front door with all his strength.  After the mess was cleaned, and Mama had prayed for forgiveness for calling Daddy names that hadn't been created yet, they were able to gather their thoughts.  It took Daddy about 30 seconds to realize what he had done wrong.  He had decided he did NOTHING wrong, and he was the victim of a set up by Uncle D because he didn't want Daddy to succeed with anything because after all, Uncle D worked in the "fancy" part of the plant.  The more Daddy thought about it the madder he got.  Just when he couldn't take the thought of being set up by his brother-in-law anymore, he flew out of his favorite green Naugahyde chair, and stormed out the front door like a junkyard dog and headed down the hill to Uncle D's house chomping and snarling his lip.  Mama was yelling at him from our yard, but Daddy ignored her.  He was dead set to drag Uncle D out of his house and teach him a good lesson.  Uncle D had heard the commotion from our house and saw Daddy stomping toward his house.  Uncle D decided it was in his best interest to run inside and lock the doors.  Just as the front door slammed shut, Daddy started in.  He called Uncle D every ugly name he could come up with, but it had no effect on the locked door. He told Uncle D to come outside and take his medicine.  Uncle D and my aunt were standing behind the door laughing, which made Daddy even madder.  Keep in mind, Daddy was nowhere near the tough guy he thought he was, and Uncle D was less of a fighter than Daddy.  In reality Uncle D would run from Daddy, but if Daddy had caught him, it would have been nothing more than two first graders fighting on the playground.  With defeat in his eyes, Daddy marched up the hill toward home.  He told Mama to get in the car because we were not living in a place where he was going to be treated like that.  My tap shoes had dried by then, and Mama was settled down.  I grabbed my General Lee car (with my tap shoes still on) and loaded up in the Zephyr with the two bags Mama had packed for us.  Daddy cranked the car and revved the engine.  I guess he thought the rattle from the engine and the cloud of smoke from the muffler would teach Uncle D a lesson and show him he couldn't show his face again without the chance of getting his comeuppance.  We left the driveway with lifters knocking and smoke billowing.  While we were passing Uncle D's house, he and my aunt were standing on the porch waving.  Daddy gave them the finger and stomped the gas a little harder.  He was set and our bags were packed!  We were leaving the state, and nothing could stop us!  We made it over the road and circled the cemetery two or three times.  We eventually ended up at "Pecker head's" house.  This was Daddy's favorite bootlegger that actually had a drive through window on the side of his single wide trailer.  If you could drive through the graveyard of rusted cars, you had made it to the window, where he would hand your "package" down to you from the window.  After making his purchase, we drove back to Turkey Hop and went back inside our house.  I was so upset because I just knew we were going to a new place, and I was going to tap my happy self over every inch of the town.   The house still smelled of sour mash, and the supplies from Daddy's home brew laboratory were laying scattered in the front yard like a tomb raider had just raided a pharaoh's treasure chamber.  After his visit with Pecker head, he felt MUCH better, and decided to forgive Uncle D.  After the eruption of Mount Saint Home Brew, Daddy never attempted to make his own drink again.  This was a plus for me, because I knew I would get my pickled eggs, Slim Jims and Yoo Hoo's again.  What more could a kid ask for?

8 Seconds and an Emu

 

Not only was there a long list of characters who passed through Turkey Hop, but the list of animals was also just as long.  After the cow incident, I wasn't as fond of the animal as I once was.  Watching a cow go berserk while your grandfather goes flying will do that to a person.  Pigs, goats, cows, horses, chickens and the list goes on and on.   The worst animals Paw had were the geese.  I have never met a goose that wasn't a reincarnation of the devil!  Other hateful beasts included several "top knotted" chickens.  These things had fuzzy feathers on top of their heads, and their favorite hobby was to chase me and my cousins.  These chickens were smart, they had our number and whenever we stepped out of the house, they were on us.  One day I was at Granny's, and I wanted to go home.  I opened the front door and looked both ways.  I didn't see anything, so I felt like it was safe to head toward home.  Just as I made it off of the porch, those chickens came out of nowhere like a sling shot had fired them at me.  I started running, but with my short legs, I didn't go very far very fast!  I had almost made it home, but the chickens were hot on my trail.  Just as one rooster was stretching out his neck for a nice chunk of my leg, I leaped for the safety of my front door.  Mama had the door open because she had heard my blood curdling screams coming from up the hill.   One day, Granny fixed chicken and dumplings for lunch.  Funny thing is, I never saw those chickens again!  Go figure.  Some people came to visit, but ended up staying for months, weeks, or even years!  A man came to visit one day and ended up staying for many years!  His name was CK, and boy what an interesting fella he was.  He could tell some tall tales better than Steven King, and a majority of them were stories he had made up while reliving his adventures.  One of the best stories was the Crockafish encounter.  He said he was fishing in the Lincoln Memorial gazing pool, when he hooked a fish of a lifetime.  He said when he reeled it in, it looked like a fish mixed with a crocodile.  He said this thing was called a crockafish, and since it was endangered, he decided to put it back in the water.  This was just one of many tales he had to tell, and they all made us laugh.  One day Paw decided it would be a good idea to buy an animal he had never seen before.  He bought an Emu!  This thing was completely wild and uncontrollable, but he was determined to tame it.  On this one day, the Emu pulled one of its famous escaping tricks.  Paw yelled for CK to come and help him catch it!  The emu had made its way from the field down to the barbershop.  Paw was behind it, and CK was waiting to ambush it around the side of the shop.  When the emu turned the corner, CK grabbed hold.  This thing started kicking and bucking, with CK holding on like Tuff Hedeman riding a bull in the National Finals Rodeo.  CK didn't turn loose, and the emu never slowed down.  When CK was in deep thought, he would stick his tongue out of the corner of his mouth.  The more the emu jumped, the farther CK's tongue stuck out.  Last count the two of them made 3 solid laps around the barbershop!  Paw was trying to keep up and yelling "Turn loose of the thing or its going to kill you"!  CK was hard of hearing, so Paw's screams went unheard!  CK FINALLY turned loose as if God above said, "You idiot, I've given you every chance to let go, so I will MAKE you let go"!  CK turned loose of the emu and went tumbling through the grapevines.  The last we saw of the emu it was headed south with the look of joy in its eyes.  CK picked himself up, dusted off his overalls and said, "Boy that thing took me for a ride".  Paw was so mad, he had almost chewed his lips down to nothing.  CK not only ignored his instincts to turn loose of danger, but he had destroyed the grape vines and lost Paw's emu.  There was never another animal like that to live on Turkey Hop Hill, but we can still hear the sounds of CK making his 8 second ride on Ernie the Emu around the barbershop.... 

Eula and the Great Gas Oven Caper...

 

My Granny's kitchen was the place to be around 11:30 every day, Monday through Friday.  There was food on every inch of the table, and more than enough to go around.  Some days Granny would have help, but some most of the time she would do it all by herself.  There was no air conditioning in the house, and the only way it had any breeze circulating, was from the big chicken house fan attached to the south side window in the living room.  Every window in the house would be open and that fan would be chugging.  Remember, this was Summer in the south!  The only breeze coming through was a nice 90 degrees.  It didn't matter to Granny!  She would dive headfirst into making the cornbread and frying up some fresh corn from the garden.   On the rare occasion Paw would make it to the house before the food was ready, he was put in charge of making the sweet tea.  There is sweet tea, but Paw's tea fell somewhere between sweet and molasses.  It was so sweet you could almost use it for dessert!  When the tea was ready, he would put it in a gallon glass jug and sit it on the table, then pour it over a glass full of ice.  There was nothing better than sipping the tea while eating fresh cornbread and beans, with an onion on the side.  I can taste it now!  I was very close to my grandparents on both Mama and Daddy's side of the family.  I was also extremely close to my great-grandmother "Maw", who was Paw's Mama.  She was a unique lady, and you wouldn't find anybody any sweeter!  She was born 1-1-1900 and had her first baby (my Paw) when she was just 17.  He was a whopper weighing in at 14lbs, but that didn't stop her from having 5 more in addition to him.  Some of my favorite memories are visiting with her at her home.  Her house always smelled like fresh baked pineapple upside down cake and was so clean you could eat off of the floor.  She didn't have an inside toilet, so she had to use an enamel bucket with a lid that sat on a stool.  Funny the things you remember, but I always had to "go" when I went there because I thought it was cool to use her bucket.  In her later years she would visit with her kids for a few days at a time.  I LOVED when she would stay with Granny and Paw, because I knew she would stay at our house and be my bed buddy.  She was peed on, puked on, and pushed off the bed, but she never complained.  She always loved me, and believe or not, I was the perfect kid while I was around her.  She would bring her "paper poke" (paper grocery bag), and as long as she had "dressed up cakes", she was in Heaven!  One day when several of us were at Granny's house helping with lunch, Maw decided to help bake the cornbread.  The kitchen was extra full that day with Granny, Maw, Mama, my Aunt Mary, and of course me.  Granny cooked on a gas stove and the pilot light had to be lit if you wanted to use the oven.  The stove had been acting up and was really not safe, but that didn't stop her from using it.  The kitchen was a sweltering inferno, but the bread had to be made.  Granny was busy at the sink, while Mama and my aunt were setting the table and doing other stuff.  I was busy playing with the washing machine and pilfering through the cabinets.  Maw opened the oven door and proceeded to light a match.  The next thing we hear was a loud boom!  Pots and pans were flying, smoke was boiling out of the oven, while Mama and my aunt ran for their lives.  I remember ending up standing on top of the washing machine, holding on to a box of Corn Flakes from the top of the refrigerator!  Granny was in the floor with a pan over her head, and Maw was nowhere to be seen!  Were we just attacked by the Republicans again?  Did the ghost of Sherman's army make another appearance while heading for Atlanta?  No, it was the stove showing off for everybody.  After Mama and my aunt ran back into the room, and Granny scraped herself off of the floor, Maw made her appearance!  In the pandemonium, it was assumed she had been blown through the ceiling, but in reality, she never left the room.  After the smoke cleared, we saw Maw's rear end in the air, and she was pulling her head out of the oven.  She stood up and her hair was a big fuzzy mess.  Her glasses were hanging half off of her face, and the first words out of her mouth were, "What did y'all say"?  She gathered herself, and with the kindest soft voice she said, "I think I'm going to go lay down for a minute and let y'all finish up in here".  The last I saw she was wobbling into the next room where she finished taking her glasses off and took a nice little nap. That was the day we had loaf bread instead of cornbread for lunch!! 

Won't You Bray for Me

 

I think by now, you can see how much I love telling funny things about my childhood.  The one major thing I've learned from this adventure, is I was a horrible child!  I told myself I need to tell stories of what a sweetheart I was, but those stories are really hard to remember.  So, in the meantime, I will just tell you another little ditty about good old Turkey Hop Hill.  Every second and fourth Saturday nights of the month, the hill was rockin'.  The Red Barn was a place that saw many bluegrass pickers of all walks of life.  Some were bigger names than others, but everyone was welcome.  At least once a night, we would hear a big crash, and some "fluffy" lady was being picked up from the floor after her metal chair had broken.  It was sort of expected, but I'm glad it never happened to me!  The interior of the barn was in two different sections.  The top part was where all of the chairs were.  There were two sets of steps leading down to the bottom part, where there was a dance floor and the stage.  Behind the stage was a door that led down into where Paw kept the milk cow.  I guess since his other place wasn't suitable for milking since some little girl swarped the cow on the rear that resulted in the cow destroying the back wall. On each end of the place were windows, with the south end window being open to the pasture.  One Saturday night, the special guest was a band who was pretty big in bluegrass at the time.  Around 5:30 or 6, people would start arriving and it was basically the same crowd every week.  I think they only came on a regular basis, just to use the outhouses.  Us girls had it good with our outhouse.  We had a two holer, while the men had to struggle with a single hole.  The people had arrived and had taken their seats, and the smell of ham, biscuits, and coffee had filled the building.  The band was tuned up and wearing their best stage suits, while the animals out in the pasture were headed to the barn to join in the fun.  It wasn't out of the ordinary to see Paw come thru the door at the back of the stage with a bucket full of milk.  The show always started with Mama and Daddy's band, and they would set the tone for the night.  After they had played for a while, the guest band took the stage.  There was a huge crowd there that night, because of the big named group.  The crowd was on fire!  The first song from the band brought the people to their feet.  The second song was just as exciting, followed by the same reaction from the third song.  The fourth song slowed things down a bit, and it was a tearjerker.  It made men take their ladies to the dance floor, squeeze them tight, and sway to the sounds of the fiddle and banjo.  It was extra warm that night, so every window in the place was propped open to give a little relief to the sweltering heat.  The hotter it got, the more onions we smelled.  After the band played a few more fast songs, they slowed it down again.  This one was even more of a sad song!  The dance floor was full, and people were mesmerized by the crooning of the lead singer.  The end of the song was about to happen, so the music got louder and stronger.  The final note was as high as the singer could go, and I believe it may have cracked a light bulb in one of the outhouses.  When the last note ended, and every woman was dipped, a hush fell over the place.  UNTIL.....  Paw's big mule stuck his head in the open window and let out a bray that could be heard miles away!  Not only did he bray once, he did it over and over.  Every eye was on him with his big mule ears perked up with his head held high.  He had a look on his face of, "Now that's how it's done son"!  When he was finished, he chewed the hay that was left in his mouth and slowly pulled his head out of the window and walked into the darkness of the pasture. The show went on, but somebody decided to close that window just in case Jack the mule decided to come back and join in on another song.  If memory serves correctly, that band never came back.... 
 

Mardy Mouse.... Mardy Mouse

 I have played fiddle since I was 5 years old.  I have won and lost my share of competitions, but I have never enjoyed competing.  Primarily due to the fact I am a sore loser!  I have been to so many competitions, I couldn't attempt to count them all.  My parents had a bluegrass band, and they were extremely good.  The had made a name for themselves and won most contests they entered.  When they had a show or contest to do, we would load up in our Mercury Zephyr, and head out.  Daddy would drive, and Mama and me would sit in the backseat behind Daddy.  The big bass fiddle rode in the passenger seat, and the rest of the instruments were either in the trunk or taking whatever space was left over.  There was one time Daddy put the bass in the trunk of the car, but the top (scroll) of the bass was sticking out.  Daddy had wrapped the bass with blankets and pillows to hopefully protect it from the outside.  After they had played the show, we loaded up and headed for home.  Not long after we had left, it started to pour down rain.  In a panic, we pulled over and put a garbage bag over the part of the bass that was hanging out of the trunk.  Keep in mind, the car was black, with no hubcaps.  The back end of the car would scrub the ground anytime we hit a bump, which would cause quite the light show from the sparks coming from the bumper.  If you had seen us, you would have sworn we were trying to hide a body in that trunk and the only thing that wouldn't fit was the head that we were trying to conceal with a black garbage bag.  After several years of this travel set up, Paw decided to buy a van for us to travel in.  Nice of him right?  However, there was one small catch!  The catch was Granny and Paw got to go everywhere we did!  I don't think Daddy really cared for the idea, but the van was nice, and we had plenty of room.  I was probably 14 or so, and we decided to go to one of the nearby bluegrass competitions.  By this time, my family had bought a house and moved from our home beside Granny and Paw.  We moved ALL of the way on the back side of the corn field, but still on the same property.  It felt like I lived in another world completely, but all I had to do was look out my bedroom window and see their house. The night before the contest, I was in my bedroom, and noticed a small mouse at the foot of my bed.  I screamed, and the mouse disappeared!  I had no idea where it went, and that was ok, because it was gone!   The morning of the contest came, so we got ready and loaded up.  I wore my jeans, a button up shirt, and my favorite red cowboy boots.  I looked like a million dollars, but in the end, I would feel like I went bankrupt!  The competition was fierce, but I got up there and played my heart out!  I ended up winning!!!  Mama and Daddy's band took home first in every category they entered, and Daddy won first place in the buck dancing category.  This particular contest had finals, which meant if you place in the top 3, you moved on to the finals.  There was a pretty long break between categories, so all of our bunch gathered and sat under the pine trees to relax.  My feet were killing me, so I decided to take off my boots.  I remember after taking of my left boot, something fell out.  Not thinking anything of it, I propped my sock feet up on Mama's guitar case.  The time had come for me to head to the stage and compete in the final round.  I put my boots on, and I headed to the stage with Mama and Daddy going with me.  I finished my part, then it was my parent's bands turn.  Like I said, the night ended with us coming away with top awards!  Everyone was on a cloud of happiness.  We loaded the van and started the journey home.  Daddy drove, and Mama sat beside him.  I sat in the seat behind Daddy, and Paw sat in the seat beside me, while Granny and my little sister were in the back.  We had made it several miles down the road when I decided to take off my boots.  I was sick of my feet hurting, so I was going to remedy this problem.  I kicked my left boot off, then the right.  It only took a few seconds before we started to smell the smell of DEATH!!!  We first thought it was rotting food left in the van for a month, OR we had just past a decaying Bigfoot laying in a ditch.  Either way it was terrible.  After another several miles, the smell was still just as strong.  My Paw NEVER scolded me for anything (and boy did he have plenty of times to do it)!  He looked at me and said, "Tina, I think that is your feet stinking"!  Naturally this made me gasp at the fact somebody would think my feet smelled like rotting flesh!  I assured them it was NOT my feet and was offended they would think such a thing.  Daddy didn't believe me, so he turned ALL of the interior lights on, and made ME smell of my boots.  I picked my left boot up first, and for some reason I turned it upside down.  When I did this, something fell out!  I KNEW WHAT IT WAS!!!!!!!  Remember the mouse in my room that I couldn't find?  Well honey, I knew EXACTLY where that thing had gone!  It had fell in my boot and had gotten trapped.  I had shoved my foot down in the boot that morning and sent that little fella to the great mouse house in the sky!  Remember when I took my boot off at the contest and something fell out.  Oh, that was the front half of the mouse!!  The back half hung on for dear life and let its presence be known on the trip home.  It was one of the most shocking moments of my life.  Daddy threatened to pull over at a car wash to power wash my feet, and Granny and my sister were gagging and screaming in the back seat.  Mama had her window down with her head hanging out like a dog going for a joy ride, and I was sitting there crying uncontrollably realizing what had happened!   Paw, with a kind and soft voice said, "Tina, I believe you're gonna have to throw them boots away hun"!  Of course, that didn't help things AT ALL!!  Every window in the van was down, so I took the opportunity to heave my boots and socks out the window.   It was amazing, after those items were gone, the sweet smell of pine from the 50 little green air fresheners Mama had thrown from the front to the back of the van.  The gagging and screaming subsided, and Mama was able to get back inside and roll up her window.  Daddy didn't pull over at the car wash, and I was still bawling!  What would I do if word got out about this?  How could I hold my head up if anyone knew!  I had confidence in my loving family to never let this secret be known.  I came home and obviously took a mega bath, focusing on my left foot, then went to bed.  I slept with the calming thoughts of my dear sweet family never telling this horrific story.  I woke up on a beautiful Sunday morning hearing laughter.  I thought since it was the Lord's Day, my parents were just happy they had lived another day.  Ohhhhhh nooooooo, Mama had already made her rounds with family and told that story to any and everybody who would listen!  I wasn't taking that, so I made my way to Granny and Paw's house!  I walked in and the first thing I hear from Granny was, "My God Tina, did you wash them stinkin' feet"?  Paw said, "Now Inez leave her alone"!  He also asked me, "Tina you don't plan to take off your shoes in here do you"?  I said, "I will have you know I took a bath and I'm clean as a whistle"!  Years have gone by, and I am proud to say I have been rat free the entire time.  I can't see a red pair of boots or smell fresh pine without thinking of the day Marty Mouse died in my boot.  

Take This Pork Rind and Shove It

 My grandparents, like many of yours, survived the Great Depression.  Granny was born in Arkansas and tells the story of how they moved to Alabama in the middle of the depression.  She used to say, "We didn't know where our next meal would come from.  It was terrible, but we lived through it...  Most of us lived through it".  I've said it before, but I'll say it again, Granny was an unbelievable southern cook.  We live at the foot of the Appalachian Mountain chain, so we have a mixture of a traditional deep south and mountain accent, and our foods are inspired the same way.  My family's music is most definitely influenced by the mountains!  On a typical day in the Spring, Summer, or fall, you could find my Paw outside working.  I can't count the times I have seen him in the field behind his plow and mule, plowing to plant corn or anything he was going to grow.  He would leave the field and bring the mule (or horse) down to the house and call for me.  He would always let me ride the sweaty stinky mule to the barn.  I didn't mind, because I loved it so much.  He let me do this because he knew I wasn't going to do something crazy to get us hurt or cause the mule to take off running and not stop until it had reached the Canadian border.  After he had put the mule or horse away, he would head to his barbershop to "cut a head of hair".  His barbershop stayed busy, but there was a catch.  He had one style!  Many a young boy came through with the expectation of having their hair cut like their favorite rock star or actor.  Buzzed!!  Middle aged man? Buzzed!!  Old man?  Buzzed!!  He had his clippers set to destroy, and that is what he did!  Some men came every week to get the two hairs on their head buzzed, and to pick a tune or two.  After the massacre of the hair was over, Paw would move to the next room and work on whatever instrument he was building or repairing.  He started teaching me how to play fiddle when I was 5 years old.  After I learned to play several tunes, Paw started making anyone who came through listen to me play.  No matter if they wanted to listen or not, he made them!  One Saturday during the summer, he loaded us up and we headed to the flea market.  It was Granny, Paw, my cousin, and myself.  We made it to the flea market and found a parking spot front and center of all of the action!  Granny was the first out of the truck, and I quickly followed her with a bounce.  Paw called for me to come to the back of the truck, where he was getting our fiddles out and told me, "Now Tina, y'all are going to play and make you some money.  I'm going to put out this can, and people will put money in while you play".  Every one of my mental balloons were burst in one whack!  I thought to myself, where is Granny?  I turned to cry to her, but all I could see was a cloud of dust and Granny's short legs moving as fast as they could in route to the pork rind (meat skins) stand.  At that point I had no other choice but to gather my fiddle and cut loose.  We played and played, and people put money in the can.  People really threw money in the can when I got out there buck danced.  I got after it like a little monkey bouncing around the jungle.  After about 3 songs, I was over it and the drama commenced.  I told Paw, "I don't want to play anymore.  I want a toy.  My head hurts.  My throat hurts.  My back hurts"!  This time my trickery didn't work.  He told me, "No you keep on playing and then we'll go get you a toy".  That worked for about 2 minutes, and the real breakdown began!  I started out with a small crying fit, then it progressed to a full-fledged Opie Taylor tantrum.  At that time, people were avoiding our truck like we all had the plague.  Paw had had enough, and said, "Good God, let's go get you a toy so you will shut up".  He loaded the truck and just as we were about to head to the toys, I saw Granny headed our way.  Her arms were loaded down with 2 bags of every flavor of pork rind the stand sold.  Plain, barbeque, hot, and hot barbeque.  She was walking and crunching, hoping she didn't drop one smidge of grease from her piggy prizes.  She got to our truck and said, "Come on Arlin lets go home"!  Without hesitation, we got in the truck and headed out for home.  Granny was in heaven with her skins, and Paw was sunk down in the seat as far as he could get.  My cousin was sitting there with the "I'm too cool for this stuff" attitude, and then there was me.  Oh Lord!  I had passed the point of throwing a fit, I was just sitting there sobbing and thinking of how my world had just been destroyed.  Granny looked over at me and said, "Here Tina put this pork rind in your mouth"!  The old blue truck made it back to Turkey Hop, and I was told I needed to go home because Mama and Daddy missed me so much.  Yeah right!! Granny and Paw were done with me and needed to take a rest!  Paw never made us do that again, but Granny made many, MANY more trips to the pork rind stand after that.  She was the boss of the pork rind world!!