Go to the store now buy bread,milk and your favorite canned meat.If it snows you could be trapped in your house for hours maybe a whole day.Don't panic.
Wear your ear muffs even in the house not because it's cold but to drown out your children's constant pitter patter to the window looking for that one lone snowflake which will mean school will be closed for least a week.
The grownups won't be so lucky your employer will come get you for work in a 4 wheel drive Jeep but you gotta get your self home the best way you can.Tip,carry a few Snicker bars in coat pocket,the colder it gets the hungrier you will be.
Mom's are cooking chili and vegetable soups storing them away cause it's going to get cold and that's what Southerner's are programmed to eat when it gets cold.
Stay calm this to shall pass.
We Southern folks can put up with hot summers,floods,tornadoes,hurricanes,pesky skeeters and even a invasion by those Yankees a hundred years and something ago.
Four of them and some fries please.That's all nothing else needed.
My appetite is waining,nothing tastes good anymore.
Have I reached that point in my life I've always heard about that your tastes changes as one gets older?
Sunday here at Hotel California on the menu for supper was a hamburger.After one bite I couldn't eat anymore of it.Maybe they are using turkey like in the bacon and sausage.And get this little boiled potatoes called baby bakers are served with the burgers.No fries that's un American!
The new TV season doesn't interest me much except for Shelby the swamp man and that new show(haven't really seen it yet)about funeral directors by day wrestlers by night.Dying to see it.
So I'm forced to go back in time and review a classic TV program from the 60's.
The Mod Squad.
Three hipsters from the peace and love generation play undercover police people.Back in the day they where lovingly refereed to as narcs.
There is this white dude who I can't remember what his name is,a black dude with a giant afro named Linc and Julie a brown eyed long haired blond who is pretty.
The white dude takes everything serious and Linc with the afro never smiles but Julie is beautiful.
I don't think they are old enough to carry guns cause I never see them with one Julie is gorgeous.
So this is the short review version of The Mod Squad where Julie is as they use to say is a Foxy Lady.
My next review will be on the Avengers.A British TV series with some old guy and Ms Peel who is pretty.
Mr Burton who was my roomie was the same way.He lived till he was almost 97 years old.People would grouch on him to eat his peas,chicken or what ever was on his plate but he only wanted(Little Debbie) oatmeal pies.
I'm almost a 100 years old and this is what I want to eat he would say.
The corner of East Reynolds and Main Street East Newnan,Georgia is where my thoughts are tonight.
It started earlier today while watching old TV programs on the internet from the 1960's.
The Invaders,Perry Mason,Patty Duke Show on and on nothing but memories.
I closed my eyes and I was back there.My room on a cold blustery day the heat from a gas space heater making the room cozy and dozy.Sitting in front of a 23 inch black and white console TV watching the Beaver.
About 5 pm waiting for the ding ding of the ice cream man who had hot dogs and chips and soda fountain Cokes which would be supper a few times each week.That smell of hot dogs being roasted from the butane roaster makes me crave a few right now.
Momma was work at the mill on the 2nd shift.Daddy was sleeping cause he worked the 3rd.
As I write this on a cold rainy Friday night I'm wishing I was back there on the corner of East Reynolds and Main in that cozy dozy room.
A potbelly coal burning stove sat at the foot of twin iron post beds.
Grandpa's bed was on the left as you entered the room,Grandma's on the right.
A light hung from the ceiling between the beds.
The year is 1955,Roanoke,Alabama,I'm 3 years old but that memory is fresh in my mind just like it was yesterday.
This is where my memory starts.
I went back to the old home place a few years ago.It didn't look the same.That mountain of a red clay bank didn't seem as big as way back then.Gone was the weathered slanting barn we kids were warn to stay out of but we didn't.
That unpainted long splintered back porch where Grandma churned butter and kin folks sat and talked I wish for again.
Parents,Grandparents,Aunts,Uncles and Cousins,Uncle Leon's old Nash parked under the Willow tree,Daddy behind Ole Gray John plowing till time to go to work in the mills.
Peaches and cream and Grandpa's laughter at the breakfast table.His hunting dogs and that horn made from a bull's horn.Tall with white hair always wearing a long sleeve white shirt and dungarees and brogan shoes never met a stranger I've been told this was Grandpa.
Gathering eggs from the chicken coup each morning all by myself,I was a big boy of course I was 3.Helping slop hogs in the afternoon that I wasn't allowed to do alone.
Daddy and Uncle Lavert toting Grandpa in a chair to the top of a coal stack so he could hear his hound dogs hunt one more time.
Our hero's seem to be movie stars,ball players of every sort,whacked out musicians,politicians and such.
The real hero's are the men and women doing something worthwhile in life.Raising families,getting up every morning sick or not going to a job that they really don't like but do it anyway.
I'm starting off this week with anger in my heart.
Lord I know it's wrong but it's a story that needs putting out there.
Maybe someone will read it and see their self.
Grandma Haynes never for some reason cared for my Momma,why who knows but I think it was a idea put into her head by other members of the Haynes family.
Down on Juniper Street here in LaGrange were we lived 50 plus years ago is what this story is about.
Grandma had 5 daughters but she always lived with us.
Momma waited on that woman hand and foot,looking after when she was sick mainly because her daughters didn't.
The rumors started by those Juniper Street devils about Momma were shameless.
Not so bad were the rumors but people who knew it was rumors and didn't speak up.They are the one's I hold grudges against.
One of Grandma's daughter's on her deathbed did express her thanks to Momma for taking care of her Momma.
Lord forgive me for these feelings of disgust I have held for those folks all these years but like Momma always said...Juniper Street is going to hell!
The annual Christmas party was held Thursday here at the old folks home.
Santa messed up,he thought I was on the nice list,scored big time.
I yours truly got 2 sets of lounger pants,2 long sleeve T shirts,pack of xl white T shirts,new set of earbuds and 4 bags of sugar free chocolate covered pecan candy squares(I shared).
The snacks at the party were great,grapes,tangerines,cookies,cheese balls,the best chicken nuggets and bless Gary J's sister she sent me a bag of her yummy M&M cookies that I have been bragging about since last year's party.
Us fat boys have to stick together,passing out his candy treats I got double helpings of Silver Bells and peppermints from Santa.
A good time was had,the pink punch wasn't spiked and that cut down on the fist fights between the little ole gray headed ladies.
Biker dude Ernie confessed he was once a male stripper,maybe he got the spiked pink punch.
The new nurse here at the old folks home had the pleasure of checking my nightly blood sugar and as usual it was sky high.
Wat'cha been eating she asked?
Without saying a word I pointed to a cartoon of buttermilk,my spare,for later when I get back in my room.
You drink that she asked?
Well now I guess my country backwoods never seen sunlight ways must be showing but yes I drink buttermilk.
Buttermilk over sweet milk anytime far as I'm concerned.
Fact is I had buttermilk and cornbread for supper.
Back in the old days maybe not the good old days just way back when, a large skillet of cornbread was made for dinner(lunch it's now called)and what was left over that was your supper(some incorrectly now call it dinner)with your choice of milk,buttermilk or sweet milk.
As Lewis Grizzard,Great American,would say,not like the food in those fancy cafes were they cooked the tomatoes and eat the green beans raw.
Just plain good tasting food like milk and bread is good enough for me.
I was talking with my friend here at the home Ernie the biker dude and half way kidding half way serious I said Ernie you do know this is where we will spend the rest of our days.
Right here,this spot,till we die or the home kicks us out,far seeing anything happening this is it right here.
Pizza for lunch soup and grilled cheese at supper on Fridays and chicken of some sort on Sundays.Forever.
Get use to it that's our future.
Both of us are 62 and with the help of medical advances maybe 10 maybe 20 more years we could hang on right here this spot.
The only place left for me to go is up the road to Hunter Allen Myhand funeral home then that short trip over to Shadowlawn cemetery where my folks are resting in peace.
At times laying here,31B,in room31SW,I think right here this spot,my comfy bed,is were I will meet the end of my story.
Some times when facing reality it don't seem nice but fact is fact.
Back in the old days before Facebook and all the other social media outlets how did we keep up what was going on with our friends,family and neighbors?
Till this very day I wonder why a grown woman and man with sons my age tell me an innocent 5 year old that Santa wasn't going too visit me because I didn't receive a letter from him like their boys did.
Never been to war,never jumped out of a airplane,never been drunk,never smoked dope,never been in a police car chase,never been shot at(but a man did pull out a gun on my Daddy once and I wasn't scared for me but for Daddy)never cut up to much in school,never did anything I knew would worry me later,never will I be like Tony Soprano,never will I complain(not to you anyway)etc and etc.
Yes I'm just your everyday boring person who likes things quite,likes being alone at times,likes watching the sun set, likes puppies and kittens,likes being around people I like,likes comfort food(burgers,fries,beans peas,cornbread and since yesterday that delicious creamy cheese broccoli and smoky bacon soup)likes knowing what is right what is wrong and likes having God in my life,likes having you in my life(smiling)likes having sweet memories mixed in with the bad ones,likes the smell of honeysuckle on a star filled summer night peppered with fireflies,etc and etc.
51 years ago, November 22nd,1963,a simpler time,a Friday,about 2 pm est,a cloudy but mild day,11 years old in the 6th grade at East Newnan Elementary life as we had known it changed.
President John Kennedy was assassinated in Dallas,Texas.
Principal Hemphil announced over the loud speaker in each class room that the President was dead.
It started raining and turned cold that afternoon.
All TV networks, just 3 at that time,in black and white broadcast around the clock news,updates,interviews with witnesses and speculation about who or what had killed JFK.
I watched live on TV Saturday as Lee Harvey Oswald the accused assassin was shot and killed by Jack Ruby.
I have a friend here at the old folks home let's just call him Ernie the biker dude.
Ernie is 6 months younger than me and I really enjoy our chats we have each day sitting around the TV.
The biker dude looks the part.Rings on each finger,chains around the neck and bracelets on each wrist,ear rings and a body covered with tattoos shaved head and beard.He looks like that singer from Judas Priest really.
When it starts lighting I tend to give Ernie the biker dude plenty of room cause I just know wearing all that silver jewelry he would be an excellent conductor for electricity.
He tells of his adventures in his life and I just know my evil twin and Ernie could be blood brothers or maybe twins separated at birth.
On one of his fingers he wears a ring that caught my attention a skull with red eyes.
We have a hand shake deal.
If I kick the bucket first he can have my prized possession this computer.Now if he gives up the ghost first that silver skull ring with red eyes is mine.
Laying here in bed last night looking out the window nature provided me with a light show of no comparison to any thing man made.
A shooting star streaked across the sky moving east to west.
It seemed to be low and slow almost stopping so I could enjoy it longer.
A flash and poof it was gone.
I got to thinking,that shooting star was like man,bright,fast moving then in a blaze of glory it was gone only to be left as a memory to be enjoyed later.
Laying here in bed waiting on breakfast watching it rain and the wind blow the BlueJay bird wind chime out my bedside window something caught my attention.
Down the hall people were laughing.Each laugh was different like voices I could tell who the laugh belonged to.
Some laughs were the tiny almost embarrassed to be laughing laughs,others were the snorting kind I don't care who's listening types.
Some laughs were pleasant others that make your skin crawl like fingernails scraping a blackboard type of laugh.
Weekly round up of the goings on at the old folks home.
Ms A. the Lady who threw a cup of ice water in my face awhile back has had her wheelchair fixed and she no longer goes round and round in circles like a ship with a broke rudder.She is on the move and it worries me when I know that little old Lady is behind me some where out of sight.She spends her free time hollering help and just like that little boy who cried wolf one day help will be needed for real but her cries for help will go unnoticed.
Rufus was acting like a dufus and the Po Po's took him away.His piano and guitar playing will be missed...nahh.
Ms P. does her nightly laps around the mall area in her wheelchair.She is huffing and puffing like Fred Sandford who would say "this is the big one Elizabeth".I just know she will fall out with a heart attack some afternoon.Each lap she makes my foot manages getting run over least once.
Mr R. is back from his vacation at the hospital and I'm trying to convince him to leave me one of his rings the one which is a skull with red eyes in his will.You know just in case.
Gary J. reelected resident president.Again no one else wants the job so the incumbent had no opposition.
It all took place last Saturday at lunch.As always and always on this day my order for hotdogs was put in to the kitchen.
What happened was rarer than snow in Georgia in July or stranger than me thinking a politician is honest and looking out for my best interest.
I was took back friends.
Opening my lunch plate top there they were two of the prettiest fried or baked or microwaved who cares big ole corndogs.
Flashback.
It was an New Year's eve and off to the Krystal I went.Not even out of the drive thru yet and I was munching on a cornpup and then it happened,stars were seen maybe I even blacked out for a few micro seconds,the humanity of it all,I had bit down on the cornpup stick and loosen my $1000 implanted front tooth yeah the tooth that the dog ate years later.
But my lust for corndogs hasn't ceased.
I've already put my order in for hotdogs today join me friends in hoping for more corndogs and lots of mustard.
On a cold clear winters night laying in bed half way between sleep and awake the sound of a train,whistle blowing and tracks rattling with bells ringing.
I don't hear them hear.
That clink clank of the train on the track I hoped would never stop or least till falling asleep.
Fall days especially fall afternoons.The colors of trees with browns,oranges and yellow leaves.That brisk refreshing air on a fall evening when you take a deep breath and your nostrils are filled with the chillness and the simple joy of wood smoke from someone's fireplace or the burning of fallen leaves.
In your front porch rocker watching the suns last shimering rays as it sets in the west being replaced by a star filled sky so big and bright you feel like reaching up and grabbing one.
The Bible said to drink a little wine for thou stomachs sake.
Now why don't we follow rules the Bible has set forth?
I think that instead of loading us old folks up with these high power drugs that have all these awful side effects give us all a little glass of wine before bedtime some folks maybe would need two glasses to relax and get everyone in a happy mood.
While pouring our drinks how about a little smoke of that medical marijuana for our bad eyes and aching joints.
Natural medications instead of those synthetic man made killer drugs that the big pharmaceutical companies say we should take.
Come on now wouldn't you rather see Grandma and Grandpa dancing around having a bit of fun and being happy instead of having that dead fish stare in their eyes?
A catastrophe at the old folks home was avoided today.
Seems some of the residents here took a trip to Burger King for Whoppers and fries on the bus borrowed from our big sister nursing home across town.
All goes well till the return trip back.Seems the remote hand control for the wheelchair lift was left dangling outside of the bus according to our on the spot reporter rendering it un usable.
Those on wheelchairs were trapped on the bus and had to be rescued. From my understanding there were a few tense moments among the trappees.
Gary J in his big power chair was one of the trappees and our reporter on the spot has of yet not had a chance to interview him yet getting his first hand impression of the event.
From my understanding all were rescued.
Our on the spot reporter with their box of crayons and a piece of scrap paper renders this photo of the scene.
Past few days here at the old folks home I've had some interesting conversations.
I guess you could call them interesting,different for sure but mostly just confusing.A few of the residents have engaged me in conversations and it's like they are speaking some unknown foreign long forgotten language.
I could not make heads or tails out of what they were saying.They could have been speaking French or something but I just could not understand them.
I was so glad,after agreeing with what ever it was they were talking about they finished up and moved along.
Another resident rolls up and starts their story just like I'm suppose to know what they are talking about.It seems I'm missing something and when I ask what they are talking about it's like they don't hear me and continue with their story.
Where in the Bible does it say Jesus was a Republican?
The way people are talking this morning he was.
First off let me say I'm not a Democrat or Republican if I'm anything call me an Independent.
What I don't like about party politics is just that they are for the party they belong with and the American people are far down the list of who they work for.
Being honest both parties have done good both have done bad.
I have faith in the American people but none in the political system.
Lately it has been showing up more and more in my life and the way I think.
Yes Dear ones put down that Big Mac,slide that T bone off to the side of your plate,take that chicken and give it a good fling,I sure don't want you to choke when I break the news to you.
I'm not 100% yet but just about ready to turn that corner.Coming out of the closet you could say.
Friends are you sitting down?
Here goes hold on.
I'm a uh one of those you know please don't judge me okay out loud and proud here goes...
VEGETARIANS!!!
There I've said it and now I'm free from living that double life.
No more whoppers for me,not even one of those small square Krystal burgers who I have been having a love affair with since the age of 10.
From now on the only food that touches my lips will be cauliflower and steamed carrots.
Except on Saturdays at lunch when hot dogs are served here at the old folks home.
Man in his high opinion of himself always messes things up.
Take this time changing thing.Daylight savings time regular time all that other time stuff.
I think we are now on what I always called sun time.The way God planned it and if that's the way He wanted it leave it alone.
So we fell back in time this morning.Come spring it will spring ahead.It confuses me and this morn up at my regular time which would be 7 am yesterday it was now 6 am and that meant 2 more hours till breakfast.
Confused and my stomach growling I sure wish the powers that be just stop messing with God's plan of things.
Before your mind starts running wild let me explain.
Here at the old folks home last night we passed out candy to trick o treaters. I had the pleasure of passing out the sweet delights to the most well mannered children.One little guy really touched my heart with his politeness by thanking me with a hug.
Me holding that bag of candy was like tempting an alcoholic with a bottle of spirits but not one piece of that candy did I let enter my mouth.
Maybe a piece of bubble yubble gum I did take maybe 2 pieces okay then it was 3.
Before days of high tech gizmos like PC's,tablets,cable and satellite TV days before round the clock news,movie and music there was a thing called radio.
I just pulled my little dilly of a radio out plugged in headphones and like a trip in a time machine there I was in the golden olden days.
Down on the AM band where I spent so much of my youthful nights being amazed by music all the way from a station in Chicago playing that rock n roll at night.
In between all that static and signals fading I heard Cassius Clay in those boxing matches,baseball games from my favorite team the Atlanta Crackers yes way before the Atlanta Braves came to town.On Sunday when Nascar was to redneck of a sport to show on TV it was always on the radio.
Talk shows were my favorite.At work I would listen to Jim White at KMOX in St Louis,Lester Rolof the preacher asking for money to save the souls of those heathen Indians as he called them telling women they were going to Hell if they cooked out of a can and were I first heard of a man named Jimmy Swaggert.
Since I was a little boy radio fascinated me so much that in 1976 after studying and learning Morse code and all that techno jumbo I took my amateur(ham)radio test at the FCC field office in Atlanta before Angelo Ditty the field engineer and received my ham radio call of WA4PFG which I still hold.
I cant wait till tonight so again with my little radio I can pull stations from far away places out of the static and fading.
Maybe I can find me an all night talk show to keep me company.
Several times I have woke up and my protective boots would be off.They are soft padded boots that help prevent getting blisters or rubbed spots on my feet.Being a diabetic and having feet problems can lead to bad things.
Several of the residents here have lost toes,feet and one has had both his legs amputated.
How the boots get off who knows.They have Velcro straps and I can't reach them so it's not me unstrapping and taking those boots off.
So this leaves only one answer.
I'm walking out of my boots.Maybe it's sleep walking and I just don't remember it.Maybe it's a mind over body thing.Maybe who knows what it is.
All my life people have seen me at places I ain't been doing things I ain't done.Always I laughed it off as people being mistaken.
Since being here at the old folks home people have seen me walking around the place.Someone even asked if I had a twin brother since they seen me walking out the front door once.
Really I have no idea what is going on.
So if you see me out about and I'm walking don't stop me just let me enjoy it.
Wife of a Baptist preacher but raised a Methodist,quiet,always sitting in her rocking chair,long dress,sweater on year round and that ever present apron.
She always said kids never bothered her but grown ups did.She had 13 kids,twins boys died at birth but the rest she raised mostly alone because Grandpa died at the age of 40.His name was John who I was named after.Lee Haynes my other Grandpa I was also named after so I'm John Lee.
Best I can remember she had 13 grand kids mostly girls it seemed.One Christmas Grandma bought us grand kids a present.Eagerly I opened the wrapped box.To my surprise it was pink and white hankies.Not exactly thrilling for a little boy.I'm sure if it had been the other way around with grand boys as the majority things would have been different.Cap pistols maybe would have been our gifts.
Every Sunday her kids and grand kids would be at her house for those big Sunday dinners.
She never cut her hair.Always worn in a bun.Once I watched as Grandma combed her hair and to my surprise it touched the floor.She never gave me a wooping but once she did get a curtain rod and threaten me but I knew it was a bluff all because I was playing in the big ditch behind Aunt Lema's but when Uncle Thomas snuck up and said lets go I did.
Well the story is getting long and it could be longer but I'll get to what this story is about.
Grandma had a saying.Being all I said a preachers wife,quiet and mild mannered that one little word,a four letter word she would utter always when mad upset or disagreeing with someone and that word was...
To my Facebook cousins you know that word but everyone else will just have to guess.
But I think people are just fooling themselves when they say someone has passed away.
Forgive me but they didn't pass they died.
You pass cars,you pass the 1st grade,you pass kidney stones,you pass inspection but when you take that final breath you are the word dead.
I can understand the reasoning for using the word passed instead of died.The word passed seems much more kinder,not as scary and doesn't sound as final as the word dead.
The Bible said the dead in Christ shall rise first from the grave on the return of Jesus not the passed in Christ.
Just like grass growing through concrete so does my hair.It grows places you don't want or need it.
I'm pretty sure one of my ancestors was a hairy caveman and all that hair might have served a purpose like keeping him warm during the ice age or acting as camouflage while hunting saber tooth tigers for that BBQ planned for the weekend.
I'm just thankful most women didn't get the hairy cavewoman gene.
Some new activity suggestions for the old folks home.
How about buying everyone motorized wheelchairs and watch us old fogies run wild up and down the halls playing bumper cars.
Nah somebody would get hurt.
How about this dig a big catfish pond outback and give each resident his/her own cane pole and a supply of red wigglers and you could charge guest for fishing and make some spend doodle.
Nah somebody would get hurt.
Well this idea would work for sure.Build a target practice range and give each resident their choice of weapons,pistol,rifle or for the adventours type hunting bows and maybe one day each week say Wednesday could be game day we could play the walking dead.
We the roomies are pretty sure that we will win either the big lottery or the Publishers Clearing House prize.
I can see it now that PCH prize patrol knocking on our door with that big check and a bouquet of roses for Paul.
You may ask what us old cooters are going to with our windfall?
This is our plan and a very good one it is.
First thing on our list is going to the Krystal.Sitting around a table the details of our good fortune will be sorted out.Agreed on so far is buying one of those super duper Greyhound bus size RV's.It will be equipped with everything imaginable thing like a George Jetson push button selectimatic food dispenser with all our favorite food,snacks and liquid refreshments.
Next on our list is the hiring our private duty Nurses and CNA's.Applications are being accepted at this time.Please inquire within at room 31 SW ask for Paul our human resource manger.
Other details will be worked out once on the road.
We the residents of room 31 SW do ask for a special request.
Please don't let Gary from the north wing know anything of our good fortune.He said that if we ever won big time he wants to drive the bus.Have mercy on us and the rest of the travelers out there.
Standing Rock,Alabama 4 years old living out were no other children lived I wanted a friend.
Every time Uncle Lavert who was a policeman in Roanoke came by I begged for a dog.
Sure enough one day he came by and with him was this small black and white dog my dog.
At first Lassie was scared shy and ran away.Yes I named him Lassie even though he was a male dog,you see I watched that TV series Lassie and it seemed like a fitting name.
After a few days Lassie came home,hungry,thirsty and friendly.
We hit it off quick.Lassie became my 4 legged shadow were I went Lassie went.
My protector.Once we where outside,back then parents just turned kids loose and they played all day outside without the worry of today's crazies,into a ditch covered by a small wooden bridge I fell.
Maybe I was knocked out for a bit laying on the jagged rocks,Daddy drove over the bridge but didn't hear my cries for help.I kid you not Lassie ran home and brought back my parents.
After we moved back to LaGrange living on Juniper Street I'm guessing I was 7 years old,sitting on a porch with other Juniper Street hooligans waiting on the police to come and get one of the kid's Daddy who was drunk two cops came walking up the steep steps parting us kids like Moses did the Red Sea Lassie took offense to it and growled at one of the cops and he reached for his belt with the pistol on it and I screamed you better not shoot my dog!
The cop quickly took his hand off the gun and proceeded to his crime fighting of the day hauling drunks out of houses.
Grandma Haynes would walk across the street and I swear Lassie would stand on his hind legs place his front paws on her arm as if guiding her to safety.
Lassie stayed with me for 6 years.We were living on Big Springs Road and he just didn't come home one day.
Two days in a row out of the corner of my eye I have seen it.It has been awhile since I've seen it and when I do it means someone is not long for this world.
It use to show up on my bedroom ceiling accompanied by the over powering smell of roses.
A light the size of a $.50 piece just floating around then poof with no warning it was gone.
Half way kidding I asked my TV watching comrade if he had seen that light on the wall and told him the meaning of it.His answer was "have you bumped your head?".
Maybe it is time for a cat scan or MRI of the old noggin but so far the light has never failed me yet.
As I look around wondering who's next who has the light come for is it that one no him oh no it's her maybe just maybe it's....... YOU!
Those unfortunate souls lost deep into their own little world.
I watched a little Lady today as she passed where I was sitting at least three times,her eyes just a blank stare like the way dead fish eyes look.Each trip by me she huffed and puffed worse tired from her wandering around and around in a circle.
Every time you turn on TV or look at an ad people are asking for money for this disease that disease or some cause.
Does the money make it to the ones it is intended for?
I give you a personal experience of this.
When my Mom was sick with dementia(Alzheimer's can't be determined till after the brain is dissected)so dementia is usually the diagnosis she received no help at all from any of the organizations that say they help.
My Aunt applied for Momma to receive meals on wheels,I didn't care for their help anyway because I did the cooking for her but she did not qualify for some reason or another.
I applied for Momma help from a state agency that was to help elderly people but was told there was a long waiting time for an opening.Ironically the agency called a few days after she had died saying they had an opening.
I will say that home health did come out for a few weeks to help with her bathing and a social worker said the Hospital pharmacy would take care of her medications which at the time the pharmacist at the drug store said Mom had one of the costliest drug bills she knew of.
Thank goodness Mom's retirement pay covered her drug bill and insurance she kept from work after she retired.
So I'm sorry that I get skeptical of these people and organizations who say (they are here to help).
That's me according to the preachers wife.So bad that her sons were not allowed to sit with me in church.
As in life there are usually two sides to every story.This one is no different.
East Newnan,Georgia is were all this takes place maybe I was 13 years old at the time.
This is the place I started questioning authority figures at this little Baptist church my family attended.
The preacher had two sons one was my age the other was older and I never had much to do with him.
What most Mother's believe about their sons and what they actually do can be different things.
This story is about a life lesson learned.
My friend the preacher's son and I were playing basketball and making a dunk he hit the rim and ended up with a pretty good gash on his nose.
Don't tell how this happened because my parents won't let me play basketball anymore he pleaded.
Sure fine okay with me what ever he told his parents I would agree to the story.
Days passed and we were at some church function and out of the blue the preacher's wife said I had lied.
Now before being called a liar Momma had asked me how this kid had gotten hurt and I told her the real story because either way it was no skin off my nose so to speak.
Seems his Mom had been talking with mine and the subject of the gash on her son's nose came up.There were two completely different tales about the incident mine and his and the preacher's wife refused to think her son was telling a fib.
So a lesson was learned never take up for someone who you think might hang you out to dry like my friend did me.
So I became know as the Bad Egg at church.
But you know being A Bad Egg with a clear conscious ain't a bad label after all.
Moral of the story...know the whole story before you judge someone!
Three years old,the year was 1955,Roanoke,Alabama,Halloween night.
The first Halloween I remember and thrilled and ready for trick or treating I was.
But as in life there was a problem.
Being a little country kid with no other children around my playmates were dogs,cats,cows,chickens,hogs and Ole Grey John Grandpa's plow mule.
I had this recurring problem.Not fond of shoes often I was bare footed.Those unpainted weather worn splintered porches were my enemy.More than once a splinter stuck in my foot and often they would get infected.I had to take those quarter size sulphur pills for my blood something wasn't quite right with it.
More than once off to Roanoke Hospital I was taken to get my foot scraped because of a cut that had become infected.This was the old Roanoke Hospital and I can still remember how it smelled of alcohol and ether.
Okay back to 1955,Halloween,I had my first Halloween costume,Casper the ghost,trick or treat bag ready for candy and as it would be an infected foot.
Off to the Hospital my folks took me.
A deal was made between us,if I would go peacefully trick or treating we would go afterwards.
No such luck.
When that Doctor held up that big huge shiny shot needle all deals were off.
Into one of best I don't want to do this tantrums I went and it took Daddy,the Doctor and a terrified Nurse to hold me down for that shot.
Of course they won I was outnumbered.
Long story short you probably guessed it,no trick or treating for me.
Still after 59 years I remember getting tricked on my first Halloween.
Just two of the dangers of living at the old folks home.
When placed into your wheelchair sometimes you need a little help finding that comfy spot.This usually takes two helpful Ladies who grab under your arms and the waist band of your pants and gently they pull you backwards till that comfortable spot is reached that spot where you can sit up straight that spot where you can wiggle around a bit.
That is the G spot the good comfortable spot.
But.
At times when searching for that G spot the good spot this will happen.
You will get a wedgie front and back wedgies no less.
And for those fortunate enough never to have suffered a wedgie let me tell you they are really uncomfortable down right painful if you get the bad configured front wedgie.
You can just use your imagination on that one.
Now there is a side effect of front and back wedgies the dreaded Steve Urkel look you know the waist band of your pants are just below your arm pits.
Yes friends there are many dangers living at the old folks home this is just an example of two of them.
From now on I'm going to be a Professor of Southern cuisine and translator of Southern sayings and words for the un informed and less fortunate(Yankees)people.
Let us begin with what would be good for our Sunday dinner(notice I said dinner not lunch there are 3 meals in a day,breakfast,dinner at noon and supper which should be no later than 5 pm).
For our meal if you ain't got the needed fixins copy this list down and get your shoes on and let's go to the Piggly Wiggly.
We need:
1.pound bag of dry big white butter beans(a bigger bag if you're expecting company).
2.bag of Martha White cornbread mix cornmeal.
3.buttermilk for cooking and drinking.
4.10 pound bag of Irish taters.
5.small can of lard will do.
6.small bag of Martha White self rising flour.
7.couple of onions.
8.box of salt.
9.a cold Double Cola cause it gonna get hot in the kitchen when we cooking.
10.last we need a can of cherries.
Now I have found out that really it don't matter if you soak dry beans or just wash em off and pour said beans into a boiling pot of water on top of the stove of course.
When those beans reach a boiling point go ahead turn them down to a medium heat,salt to taste,add left over bacon grease from breakfast and just let'em cook making sure they have water(scorched beans not good)leave em along now they will cook up nice all by them self in an hour or so.
Next for our desert.Take a cup of flour more if a thicker crust is wanted,cup of melted butter,cup of sugar,cup of sweet milk(that's whole milk for you Yankees)take that can of cherries and mix all ingredients well and pour into a greased up good size oven safe bowl and cook for 45 minutes or till brown on top at 375 degrees.This will be if you haven't guess cherry cobbler.
Now as our beans and cobbler cook peel them taters and slice and dice, get your big frying pan out,a black cast iron skillet that you inherited from your Dear departed Grandma always works best,get a couple big spoonfuls of that lard and careful now melt your lard in that skillet till bubbly hot and pour them taters in till they are fried crispy brown and delicious salted to your likin.
We are coming along right nicely with our dinner all that's left to do is fry up some cornbread fritters.Now if that word fritter confuses you really all it is is pancakes made with cornmeal,some call'em Johnny cakes or hoe cakes but really it's just fried cornbread.Take a big bowl and mix in some Martha White cornmeal mix,add your buttermilk,stir till the mixture slides out of the bowl like boiled okra into another black cast iron that was inherited from Granny(ok so you were the first to arrive at Grandma's after she departed this world and swiped all her good stuff)that skillet you grease up with a small amount of lard and sprinkle a little bit of that Martha White flour into the pan so our fritters won't stick,make into pancake size fritters,fry till a golden brown.
Shoot now our dinner should be done all it took was about a hour.
See having a first class Southern dinner wasn't hard at all.
Our butter beans should be soft swimming in a thick bean soup,taters slice diced fried ready to eat,a stack of fritters waiting on us,and that golden brown cheery cobbler for our desert.
If any of that cold Double Cola is left we can share it but if not a cold glass of that buttermilk will work.
Next time let's fix fried cabbage,corn beef hash and more fritters.
I think the Yankee chef over at the hospital is still fighting the war of Yankee aggression.
.jpg)
