Uncle Billy sat on his shavehorse and inspected the sassafras stick clamped in the jaws of the bench. It was dried well and was straight. The bark was still on it an' would mostly stay that way. Folks at the fair didn't much want a good kitchen broom or house broom. They wanted somethin' pretty to hang on a wall or some such thing. He thought it was nonsense, but the fancy ones sold, so he weren't gonna raise much fuss.
He set his drawknife aside. It was too big for shavin the sassafras stick. He only wanted to take the rough off the bark an' maybe have a few places the wood would peek through. Folks liked that real good. He picked up a spokeshave and set it to the rough bark of the stick.
Folks standin' an' watchin' smelled the sassafras as soon as he took the first stroke. Several of the youngin's took deep sniffs real loud. Uncle Billy chuckled an' looked up.
"Y'all like that smell don't ye?"
Course, the youngin's nodded their heads to beat the band. Nothin' smelled better than fresh sassafras. Uncle Billy set the stick he was workin' on aside an' picked up one that was rougher an' not fit for makin' a broom handle. He kept a couple o' sticks like that layin' round for just such an occasion.
"Let me give you'uns somethin' to carry round an' snort on for a while." he said as he picked up his drawknife an' slid it quickly down the stick. The fragrance filled the area around him with the sweet smell of sassafras. He quickly made a small pile of shavin's and handed a couple to each youngin'. In the back o' the group was a little ol' girl with blond hair an' brown eyes. She was a grinnin but hid behind her mama as Uncle Billy approached.
"Come here, darlin'. I got a special one for you."
She timidly walked closer an' Uncle Billy took a long curl o' sassafras an' dangled it from her ear like an earring.
"What 'bout the other ear?" she asked.
Uncle Billy laughed right hard when she spoke up. "Here ye are, darlin'. One for the other ear. Gal's gotta look good for the fair."
She felt each one as if to be sure they were in just the right place and grinned. Uncle Billy handed out the rest o' the shavin's. More than one grownup reached out a hand for their own shavin'.
As folks left Uncle Billy went back to work on the broom handle.
Later in the evenin' he stopped to get a bite to eat. As he was headin' over to the Clay County Pork Producers booth to get a big ol' grilled and butter-flied pork chop he saw that little ol' gal walkin' with her mama.
When she saw Uncle Billy she grinned an' pulled back her hair from her ears. Right there, danglin' from each ear was a long curl of the finest red sassafras the mountains o' Kentucky ever did grow.
Uncle Billy chuckled an' hollered out, "Are you a flirtin' with me? I'm too old for you now!"
Don't ye know, that little ol' girl grinned, blushed an' ran to catch up with her mama as fast as she could.
Saturday, August 23, 2003
Wednesday, August 20, 2003
Sunday Dinner on the Grounds
Lordy, will y'all looky at the tables out yonder under the maple trees. They are plumb full of food. I don't know if the preacher will be able to get done preachin' before his tongue starts a beatin' his lips to death if he smells all this here good food. Mama used to say they wasn't nothin' better than a dinner on the grounds here at Booger Holler Holiness Church.
The Women's Missionary League set up four o' them foldin' tables. Ever' one of 'em is plumb full. Why don't you'uns walk over an' take a look with me. Now keep your hands to your own self. One thing I don't stand for is youngin's stickin' dirty ol' hands into the food.
Looky there, that first table has all the salads an' such. There is three kinds o' tomatoes! Big ol' Better Boy beef steak tomatoes, regular slicin' ones an a big ol bowl o' them little tommy-toes. I like them best. See there, someone has sliced some o' them tommy-toes with onions an' poured I-talian dressin' on em. Mmm, fresh from the garden green onions, sliced bell peppers, banana peppers, cucumbers sliced both ways an some in vinegar with onions sliced thin enough to read a paper through. There is some of Sister Hazel Budder's layered salad an' beside it home made slaw. I hope that is Sis Carpenter's slaw. She makes her own dressin' don't you know. Oh, right there, big wedges of iceberg lettuce an' fresh made roquefort dressin'. I know someone is gonna have wilted lettuce, they just don't want it to sit too long, so they have to make it up hot an' fresh. They is no place on earth with better fresh vegetables than right here in Beloved, Kentucky, sure enough.
Well, I better move on to the table with meats an such before I get full from lookin'. There, I knew they would be fried chicken. I see 7 different kinds of fried chicken. See that bowl there? It's Sister Delly's chicken. She has a batter recipe I would give my right arm for. It is a big secret though. She won the County Fair with it 10 years runnin' before they retired her chicken an' made her the Fried Chicken Queen a year or two ago. Oh, Looky, looky...Uncle Billy has baked a whole country ham an' sliced it up right thin. Them is the beaten biscuits he makes sittin' there. Since his wife died he has been makin' 'em with her recipe. Chicken an' dumplins AND squirrel dumplins. There is a city ham for folks don't like country ham. Cain't 'magine who that would be though. Oops, almost missed the chicken fried steak an the big ol' bowl o' milk gravy sittin' by it. Whew, looky at the plate o' sliced beef roast. Wait a minute, see there on the end? That kettle with them boiled hot dogs in it? Can you imagine? Don't even think about eatin' one o' them hot dogs. Yessum, I know it is terrible to bring hot dogs to a spread like this, but they is another reason ... Peanut Chappell brought 'em. Y'all don't want a thing he had hold of. Just you take my word for it.
Well, come on now, we got two tables to go. Green beans, fresh from the garden an' cooked long an' slow with ham pieces. Some folk still use salted jowl or fatback. I like them beans best. Gee oh, a bean pot full of baked beans. Now, them is good eatin'. Course over there is a big pan o' baked beans with bacon on top. Mashed taters with country gravy, sweet taters with mushmellers on top, sweet tater cassarole, fried irish taters, tater salads...four tater salads, one with bacon in it. Green bean cassarole, ham an' tater cassarole, squash cassarole an' stuffed zuchinni boats. Pickled beets, pickles o' ever' description. Little ones, sliced ones, big ones, pickled eggs, pickled baloney, pickled okra, even pickled green beans.
Well, better get a look at that there de-ssert table 'cause it will empty first. Chocolate cake, carrot cake, that there Mexican Fruit Cake Sister Budder makes an' ever'one has to have the recipe each year. She comes with copies run off on the mimeo machine 'cause she knows folks will ask. Apple pies, mock apple pies, apple pan dowdie, apple cobbler, peach cobbler, blackberry cobbler, blueberry cobbler, peach pies an' fresh, sweet peaches peeled an' sliced. Pecan pie, shoofly pie, sugar pie, lemon pie, vinegar pie. Strawberry shortcake with real whipped cream. There it is. Looky yonder in the middle, a home made chocolate pie. I don't know who brings that 'un, but I am gonna cut me a piece now an' get the recipe before I leave this here church today.
Well, youngin's, we done missed the card table set up with home made bread, biscuits, cornbread, Mexican cornbread with hot peppers an' cheese in 'er, big ol' yeast rolls, them twisty crescent rolls, breadsticks with butter an' garlic powder sprinkled on top. I reckon that's my diet, missin' the bread table!! Don't you'uns go spreadin that I am on a diet. I just am a watchin' what I eat.
Oh, Lordy, we best go in an' start a prayin' for our sinful ways right now, cause I just got some gluttony flung on me!!!
The Women's Missionary League set up four o' them foldin' tables. Ever' one of 'em is plumb full. Why don't you'uns walk over an' take a look with me. Now keep your hands to your own self. One thing I don't stand for is youngin's stickin' dirty ol' hands into the food.
Looky there, that first table has all the salads an' such. There is three kinds o' tomatoes! Big ol' Better Boy beef steak tomatoes, regular slicin' ones an a big ol bowl o' them little tommy-toes. I like them best. See there, someone has sliced some o' them tommy-toes with onions an' poured I-talian dressin' on em. Mmm, fresh from the garden green onions, sliced bell peppers, banana peppers, cucumbers sliced both ways an some in vinegar with onions sliced thin enough to read a paper through. There is some of Sister Hazel Budder's layered salad an' beside it home made slaw. I hope that is Sis Carpenter's slaw. She makes her own dressin' don't you know. Oh, right there, big wedges of iceberg lettuce an' fresh made roquefort dressin'. I know someone is gonna have wilted lettuce, they just don't want it to sit too long, so they have to make it up hot an' fresh. They is no place on earth with better fresh vegetables than right here in Beloved, Kentucky, sure enough.
Well, I better move on to the table with meats an such before I get full from lookin'. There, I knew they would be fried chicken. I see 7 different kinds of fried chicken. See that bowl there? It's Sister Delly's chicken. She has a batter recipe I would give my right arm for. It is a big secret though. She won the County Fair with it 10 years runnin' before they retired her chicken an' made her the Fried Chicken Queen a year or two ago. Oh, Looky, looky...Uncle Billy has baked a whole country ham an' sliced it up right thin. Them is the beaten biscuits he makes sittin' there. Since his wife died he has been makin' 'em with her recipe. Chicken an' dumplins AND squirrel dumplins. There is a city ham for folks don't like country ham. Cain't 'magine who that would be though. Oops, almost missed the chicken fried steak an the big ol' bowl o' milk gravy sittin' by it. Whew, looky at the plate o' sliced beef roast. Wait a minute, see there on the end? That kettle with them boiled hot dogs in it? Can you imagine? Don't even think about eatin' one o' them hot dogs. Yessum, I know it is terrible to bring hot dogs to a spread like this, but they is another reason ... Peanut Chappell brought 'em. Y'all don't want a thing he had hold of. Just you take my word for it.
Well, come on now, we got two tables to go. Green beans, fresh from the garden an' cooked long an' slow with ham pieces. Some folk still use salted jowl or fatback. I like them beans best. Gee oh, a bean pot full of baked beans. Now, them is good eatin'. Course over there is a big pan o' baked beans with bacon on top. Mashed taters with country gravy, sweet taters with mushmellers on top, sweet tater cassarole, fried irish taters, tater salads...four tater salads, one with bacon in it. Green bean cassarole, ham an' tater cassarole, squash cassarole an' stuffed zuchinni boats. Pickled beets, pickles o' ever' description. Little ones, sliced ones, big ones, pickled eggs, pickled baloney, pickled okra, even pickled green beans.
Well, better get a look at that there de-ssert table 'cause it will empty first. Chocolate cake, carrot cake, that there Mexican Fruit Cake Sister Budder makes an' ever'one has to have the recipe each year. She comes with copies run off on the mimeo machine 'cause she knows folks will ask. Apple pies, mock apple pies, apple pan dowdie, apple cobbler, peach cobbler, blackberry cobbler, blueberry cobbler, peach pies an' fresh, sweet peaches peeled an' sliced. Pecan pie, shoofly pie, sugar pie, lemon pie, vinegar pie. Strawberry shortcake with real whipped cream. There it is. Looky yonder in the middle, a home made chocolate pie. I don't know who brings that 'un, but I am gonna cut me a piece now an' get the recipe before I leave this here church today.
Well, youngin's, we done missed the card table set up with home made bread, biscuits, cornbread, Mexican cornbread with hot peppers an' cheese in 'er, big ol' yeast rolls, them twisty crescent rolls, breadsticks with butter an' garlic powder sprinkled on top. I reckon that's my diet, missin' the bread table!! Don't you'uns go spreadin that I am on a diet. I just am a watchin' what I eat.
Oh, Lordy, we best go in an' start a prayin' for our sinful ways right now, cause I just got some gluttony flung on me!!!
Friday, August 15, 2003
Hungry for the Hills
Sometimes a soul just gets hungry,Not homesick exactly.
More like hungry for the hills
Like there is an empty spot
Needin' ancient low mountains
Worn before men ever came.
Hills that wear on a soul
But become the lifeblood of a man.
Eyes that grieve for mountain laurel
Dogwoods bloomin' high on the hill.
Lookin' for tobaccer grown tall
The dark wood of a well worn barn.
Glancin' around for a hand waved
Arms thrown high in greetin'.
The smile of a dark eyes little girl
Man's heart's hers even before she grows up.
Eyes ache for the glimpse of a mountain woman.
Mind races to the hills
Tastin' yellow dust on grinnin' lips
Thrown up on an ol' dirt road.
Almost there, almost there
Past barn and field.
Through creek an' up holler
Under the sourwood tree
Over the mountain path
There, go down that deer trail
See it, See it?
Coveyed tween two hills.
Tin roof gleamin' bright
Washed by God's good rain.
Logs stacked ageless and aged.
The drystacked rock chimbley
Just buzzin' with mud daubers
Stealin' little ol' bits.
Smokehouse an' barn ancient brown
Well bucket swingin' joyfully.
It heard from the deep waters of the well
Who heard whispers from the branch
News trickled down from the creek
Found out as you forded the river.
Walk on up now to the cabin.
Been waitin' patiently for you'uns.
Feet knock on each stair
Feelin' the strength of the mountains.
Screen door sings it's ache as springs stretch.
Latchstring is out,
Go in, go in.
The cool of the cabin wraps around
Familiar smells rush to greet
Each beggin' like a dog
Smell me, smell me.
Black woodstove has waited patiently.
Logs at the ready, matches dry.
Windows suck light in
Rockin' chairs ache for the sittin.
Rest here, rest here.
The heart is home.
The soul is fed.
Eyes taste and see
Comfort food, soul nutrition.
Appalachian mountains reach up
Through rock foundation
Through poplar plank floors.
Into travelin' feet wantin' rest
Tendrils of the hills lace into the spirit.
Like briars they sprout easily in willin' soil.
Seeds of them hills bloom quickly.
Turnin' the desert of livin'
On the wrong side of the Ohio
Into an Eden of bein' home to the hills.
Monday, August 11, 2003
Zambina
Junebug spent all day workin' in the sheep barn the first day o' the fair. The 4H sponsors wanted to make sure the barn looked good as folks went through. There were always chores to do. Junebug swept the lanes between the sheep pens over and over to make sure no one stepped in anythin'. He helped haul about a thousand wheelbarrows of sawdust to scatter on them lanes too.
The fellers what was doin' the sheep shearin' wasn't comin' till the next day, so Junebug had plenty of time in the evenin' to walk around with his cousins an' friends an' look the fair over. He had one of them cotton candys right off. He went over to the Methodist Church booth an' got some chicken an' noodles like he promised his Mama. He knew some o' them ol' ladies would tell on him if he didn't try to eat right.
Him an' Eddie Carpenter walked down through the rides an' into the sideshow area. They were right strange things there, sure enough. Last year he paid a quarter to see the biggest rat in the whole wide world. That feller talkin' 'bout it kept on hollerin' about it all week till Junebug had to take a look. After he paid his quarter he climbed up some stairs an' looked down into a pen with a big ol' rat lookin' thing. He sure didn't want to see that in his Daddy's corn crib. (His science teacher later told him it weren't a rat but a capybara. Junebug looked it up in an encyclopedia an' sure enough it was!)
Well, Eddie an' Junebug stopped in front of a tent that had a sign said, "Zambina the Gorilla Woman". The feller out front told them that Zambina was the missin' link. Them boys had to see that missin' link woman. They paid their quarter an' went inside a dark tent with a bunch o' other folks.
When the lights came on the man from out front was standin' on the stage with a nice lookin' red headed woman in some kind o' zebra skin with grass stuck in her hair an' all. Junebug looked real close. He thought the feller looked an awful lot like the man with the giant rat last year.
That feller tol' the folks that Zambina was the missin' link again an' said when she was put in a hypnotic trance she "regressed through the various and sundry stages of evolution to her ancient ancestor, the giant ape...known today in modern science as the gorilla.". Eddie giggled an' said she was really one of them orang-o-tangies cause she was redheaded an' all. Junebug tol' him to hush cause the feller said it had to be absolute silent.
"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, I am about to perform a feat of hypnotism and cause Zambina to regress back through millions of years of evolution. Please be silent, because I cannot be responsible for what might happen if her primitive urges get the best of her psyche. Quiet now as I begin..."
The feller paused an' the woman stepped into a big ol' cage with iron bars. He locked her in an' put the key in his pocket. Junebug's eyes got real big as he saw her standin' in that ol' cage. He poked Eddie and pointed. Eddie was as white as a sheet. This show had to be the real thing.
"Zambina," the feller whispered right loud, "Think gorilla. Think Gorilla, Zambina. Gorilla, Zambina"
He whispered an' muttered this over an' over. Then it some kind o' scary music started up an smoke was a risin' all round. Funny lights started a flickerin' an' Zambina started changin'. She humped over right funny an' her arms an' face gor real hairy. She got bigger an' bigger till she looked like one o' them gorillas, for sure. Finally she was a full time, real for sure gorilla!
Then some woman screamed an' all heck broke loose. Zambina broke out of her trance when that woman done screamed. That gorilla lady broke open that ol' cage an' jumped out. She looked around an' saw that talkin' feller that tranced her. She grabbed him an started beatin' on him an' carryin' on somethin' terrible. Man, oh man.
'Bout that time Eddie Carpenter got scared an' ran out the flap as a big ol' man with a shotgun came it. He fired it in the air an Zambina froze as she was pickin' up the hypnotizin' feller. The big man pointed the shotgun at Zambina and she dropped the feller to the ground.
Junebug looked up at the top o' the tent an' noticed it didn't have a hole in it from the shotgun blast! He turned to watch what was a goin' on.
The shotgun man walked calm like toward Zambina, callin' her name an pointin' the gun at her. He got a whip off a chair in the front an' cracked it a couple o' times an' Zambina hunkered down like an' ol' cur dog. Folks started cheerin'. Junebug reckoned they knew that feller had saved their sorry lives.
Both them fellers got Zambina in the cage an' locked it back. The hypnotizin' feller tol' the folks the show was over since Zambina was stuck as a gorilla till they got her calmed down. As Junebug left he saw the movie projector high in the tent an' figured it must a been part o' the way Zambina changed. 'Course, he weren't gonna tell Eddie that. Sorry friend he was, runnin' off like that.
When Junebug got back to the sheep barn, Eddie was already tellin' ever'one there about Zambina. That show as gonna make some cash over the weekend. Junebug threw in his two cents here an' there, but didn't say much. It was Eddie's story after all.
Junebug saw Zambina's transformation three times that week. He later recognized Zambina walkin' around in regular clothes. He said howdy to her an' winked.
Zambina grinned, winked an' held her finger to her lips. Junebug made a zippin' motion over his lips an giggled as he walked toward the rides back on the back lot.
The fellers what was doin' the sheep shearin' wasn't comin' till the next day, so Junebug had plenty of time in the evenin' to walk around with his cousins an' friends an' look the fair over. He had one of them cotton candys right off. He went over to the Methodist Church booth an' got some chicken an' noodles like he promised his Mama. He knew some o' them ol' ladies would tell on him if he didn't try to eat right.
Him an' Eddie Carpenter walked down through the rides an' into the sideshow area. They were right strange things there, sure enough. Last year he paid a quarter to see the biggest rat in the whole wide world. That feller talkin' 'bout it kept on hollerin' about it all week till Junebug had to take a look. After he paid his quarter he climbed up some stairs an' looked down into a pen with a big ol' rat lookin' thing. He sure didn't want to see that in his Daddy's corn crib. (His science teacher later told him it weren't a rat but a capybara. Junebug looked it up in an encyclopedia an' sure enough it was!)
Well, Eddie an' Junebug stopped in front of a tent that had a sign said, "Zambina the Gorilla Woman". The feller out front told them that Zambina was the missin' link. Them boys had to see that missin' link woman. They paid their quarter an' went inside a dark tent with a bunch o' other folks.
When the lights came on the man from out front was standin' on the stage with a nice lookin' red headed woman in some kind o' zebra skin with grass stuck in her hair an' all. Junebug looked real close. He thought the feller looked an awful lot like the man with the giant rat last year.
That feller tol' the folks that Zambina was the missin' link again an' said when she was put in a hypnotic trance she "regressed through the various and sundry stages of evolution to her ancient ancestor, the giant ape...known today in modern science as the gorilla.". Eddie giggled an' said she was really one of them orang-o-tangies cause she was redheaded an' all. Junebug tol' him to hush cause the feller said it had to be absolute silent.
"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, I am about to perform a feat of hypnotism and cause Zambina to regress back through millions of years of evolution. Please be silent, because I cannot be responsible for what might happen if her primitive urges get the best of her psyche. Quiet now as I begin..."
The feller paused an' the woman stepped into a big ol' cage with iron bars. He locked her in an' put the key in his pocket. Junebug's eyes got real big as he saw her standin' in that ol' cage. He poked Eddie and pointed. Eddie was as white as a sheet. This show had to be the real thing.
"Zambina," the feller whispered right loud, "Think gorilla. Think Gorilla, Zambina. Gorilla, Zambina"
He whispered an' muttered this over an' over. Then it some kind o' scary music started up an smoke was a risin' all round. Funny lights started a flickerin' an' Zambina started changin'. She humped over right funny an' her arms an' face gor real hairy. She got bigger an' bigger till she looked like one o' them gorillas, for sure. Finally she was a full time, real for sure gorilla!
Then some woman screamed an' all heck broke loose. Zambina broke out of her trance when that woman done screamed. That gorilla lady broke open that ol' cage an' jumped out. She looked around an' saw that talkin' feller that tranced her. She grabbed him an started beatin' on him an' carryin' on somethin' terrible. Man, oh man.
'Bout that time Eddie Carpenter got scared an' ran out the flap as a big ol' man with a shotgun came it. He fired it in the air an Zambina froze as she was pickin' up the hypnotizin' feller. The big man pointed the shotgun at Zambina and she dropped the feller to the ground.
Junebug looked up at the top o' the tent an' noticed it didn't have a hole in it from the shotgun blast! He turned to watch what was a goin' on.
The shotgun man walked calm like toward Zambina, callin' her name an pointin' the gun at her. He got a whip off a chair in the front an' cracked it a couple o' times an' Zambina hunkered down like an' ol' cur dog. Folks started cheerin'. Junebug reckoned they knew that feller had saved their sorry lives.
Both them fellers got Zambina in the cage an' locked it back. The hypnotizin' feller tol' the folks the show was over since Zambina was stuck as a gorilla till they got her calmed down. As Junebug left he saw the movie projector high in the tent an' figured it must a been part o' the way Zambina changed. 'Course, he weren't gonna tell Eddie that. Sorry friend he was, runnin' off like that.
When Junebug got back to the sheep barn, Eddie was already tellin' ever'one there about Zambina. That show as gonna make some cash over the weekend. Junebug threw in his two cents here an' there, but didn't say much. It was Eddie's story after all.
Junebug saw Zambina's transformation three times that week. He later recognized Zambina walkin' around in regular clothes. He said howdy to her an' winked.
Zambina grinned, winked an' held her finger to her lips. Junebug made a zippin' motion over his lips an giggled as he walked toward the rides back on the back lot.
Tuesday, August 05, 2003
The Other Side of the Fair
Saturday morning started fast for Junebug Burns. He was up early to get his sheep ready for the Clay County Fair. He had been in 4H for a couple of years now. At 13 he thought he might be goin' to his last fair as a 4Her this year.
Junebug's Mama had called to him at about 6:00 a.m. an' told him he better get a move on or his Daddy wouldn't be a takin' him to the fair till later in the day. The mornin' was cool in the holler where they lived. The creek that ran down the holler kept the nights cool an' the days humid in summer.
He was up an' dressed right quick. A white tee shirt, ol' denims an' some P.F. Flyers was all a feller needed at the fair till judgin' day. His Mama had made sure he had enough shirts, drawers an' clean socks. she said no boy o' hers was gonna stink, even though they was a stayin' in the sheep barn all week.
Lordy, he better hurry. If his Daddy got on the tractor he would have wait an' go that evenin'. On top o' that he'd have chores to do all day instead o' bein' at the fair.
He ran out to the barn while his Mama was cookin' breakfast. As he went out the front door onto the porch he could hardly see the tobaccer field down the way for the fog. That fog was heavy on the barn as he reached it, swirlin' around it an' makin' it look like it was stuck off by itself. He could'nt see em, but he heard the chickens a carryin' on an' his sister's banty rooster crowin' like it was cock o' the walk.
As the big ol' door swung open, his sheep started callin' to him somethin' fierce. All the bleatin' made him smile a big smile. These were the best two sheep in all the 4H group. Well, that's what he thought. His Daddy weren't one to throw around words an he said they was good stock. That there was as good as a ribbon to Junebug.
He got his cane an' opened the pen. Them sheep was out an' into the barnyard quicker than greens through a duck. He walked behind an' beside them as he herded them toward the truck. His Daddy already had a ramp up to the back o' the truck. It took just a shake to get 'em in an' close the back end o' the pickup. They was big wooden slat sides on the truck that folks would build to haul livestock in pickup trucks. Junebug had put plenty o' straw on the bed o' the truck. He handed in some hay for the sheep to eat as they traveled.
One thing can be said o' Junebug's Mama. She weren't lettin' her menfolks go to the fair hungry. Her table was an old harvest table made o' poplar by her Grandad. The two long sides folded down when not in use an' could be pushed agin the wall to make room in the kitchen.
Today it were covered with a red an' white checked oilcloth tablecloth. Five plates sat on the table an' cloth napkins were by each plate. The plates was what folks call carnival glass an' had been won at the County Fair over several years by Junebug's Daddy when they first took up housekeepin'. The days before the Clay County Fair were always right special 'cause the carnival glass dishes would come out. They was a warm gold color, almost opaque.
The forks an' knives an' spoons was in each drinkin' glass like always. Mama always set the table like that. When folks was done they put their forks an' all right back in them glasses an' set 'em over on the sideboard for washin'.
In the middle o' that red an' white oilcloth was more food than a feller could shake a stick at. They was a big platter o' fried eggs, a bowl o' grits an' some fresh churned butter to dab on top. Down by Junebug's Mama's chair was Bob White Syrup an' some buckwheat flapjacks. A big ol' bowl held thick home cured hickory smoked bacon, sausages an' a little ham meat. They was two kinds o' gravy on the table; milk gravy an' red-eye gravy made from the grease off that ham.
Junebug's Daddy grabbed his Mama's hand, an' Junebug an' his two sisters joined the family circle as his Daddy prayed for the food:
"Dear Lord, I am right grateful for all the food sittin' before us, Lord. Y'all have done right by us from day one an' for that I thank thee. I give thanks for this farm an' for the crops. That rain the other day was appreciated, Lord Jesus, but I ain't gonna squawk none if y'all care to give us another one. I'd ask y'all to watch over they youngin's an' keep 'em healthy. Bless my Mam, dear Lord, cause she has taken the palsy something terrible. She is a shakin' so bad that she cain't hardly hold a glass o' milk. Now, Lord, y'all know I don't like to ask no favors or want special treatment for us, but if y'all see fit, jus' bless ol' Junebug with a champion this year. He has worked hard on them sheep an' done a right good job. Amen."
Junebug had opened his eyes when his Daddy started talkin' to the Lord about him. His eyes was as big as hen eggs when his Daddy bragged on him to the Lord Jesus. Junebug couldn't believe it. Them must be good sheep if his Daddy was a askin' the Lord to bless him.
He didn't stop grinnin' as he filled...an' emptied his plate. That grin stayed on his face as they rode to town an' even when they unloaded the sheep into their pen.
He had a sleepin' bag an' a suitcase with him that he put in the pen next to his sheep. A dozen other boys had done the same around him. At the other end o' the barn the girls was layin' out their beds an so on in pens next to their sheep. A couple of parents was there too, all set up in stalls in between for the rest o' the week. They were the 4H sponsors this year an' would ride herd on the youngin's in each barn.
Junebug hugged his Daddy an started to turn back to the barn.
"Ain't you a forgettin' somethin'?" his Daddy asked.
"I don't reckon."
"You ain't asked me for any spendin' money."
"Well sir, I saved a right smart bit this year. I thought I would do 'er on my own."
"Good man, Junebug. That makes me proud o' ye." His Daddy sounded real funny when he said that. Sort o' like he was chokin' or somethin'.
He hugged Junebug agin an' walked to the truck. "I'll be here Wednesday for the judgin', son."
"OK, Daddy. I'll be a seein' y'all then."
As his Daddy drove away, Junebug stuck his hands in his pockets. He felt somethin' in the left pocket where he kept his Case knife. When he pulled it out he saw the $10 his Daddy had slipped in as he was a huggin' him.
That grin crept to his face again. It didn't leave most o' the day.
Junebug's Mama had called to him at about 6:00 a.m. an' told him he better get a move on or his Daddy wouldn't be a takin' him to the fair till later in the day. The mornin' was cool in the holler where they lived. The creek that ran down the holler kept the nights cool an' the days humid in summer.
He was up an' dressed right quick. A white tee shirt, ol' denims an' some P.F. Flyers was all a feller needed at the fair till judgin' day. His Mama had made sure he had enough shirts, drawers an' clean socks. she said no boy o' hers was gonna stink, even though they was a stayin' in the sheep barn all week.
Lordy, he better hurry. If his Daddy got on the tractor he would have wait an' go that evenin'. On top o' that he'd have chores to do all day instead o' bein' at the fair.
He ran out to the barn while his Mama was cookin' breakfast. As he went out the front door onto the porch he could hardly see the tobaccer field down the way for the fog. That fog was heavy on the barn as he reached it, swirlin' around it an' makin' it look like it was stuck off by itself. He could'nt see em, but he heard the chickens a carryin' on an' his sister's banty rooster crowin' like it was cock o' the walk.
As the big ol' door swung open, his sheep started callin' to him somethin' fierce. All the bleatin' made him smile a big smile. These were the best two sheep in all the 4H group. Well, that's what he thought. His Daddy weren't one to throw around words an he said they was good stock. That there was as good as a ribbon to Junebug.
He got his cane an' opened the pen. Them sheep was out an' into the barnyard quicker than greens through a duck. He walked behind an' beside them as he herded them toward the truck. His Daddy already had a ramp up to the back o' the truck. It took just a shake to get 'em in an' close the back end o' the pickup. They was big wooden slat sides on the truck that folks would build to haul livestock in pickup trucks. Junebug had put plenty o' straw on the bed o' the truck. He handed in some hay for the sheep to eat as they traveled.
One thing can be said o' Junebug's Mama. She weren't lettin' her menfolks go to the fair hungry. Her table was an old harvest table made o' poplar by her Grandad. The two long sides folded down when not in use an' could be pushed agin the wall to make room in the kitchen.
Today it were covered with a red an' white checked oilcloth tablecloth. Five plates sat on the table an' cloth napkins were by each plate. The plates was what folks call carnival glass an' had been won at the County Fair over several years by Junebug's Daddy when they first took up housekeepin'. The days before the Clay County Fair were always right special 'cause the carnival glass dishes would come out. They was a warm gold color, almost opaque.
The forks an' knives an' spoons was in each drinkin' glass like always. Mama always set the table like that. When folks was done they put their forks an' all right back in them glasses an' set 'em over on the sideboard for washin'.
In the middle o' that red an' white oilcloth was more food than a feller could shake a stick at. They was a big platter o' fried eggs, a bowl o' grits an' some fresh churned butter to dab on top. Down by Junebug's Mama's chair was Bob White Syrup an' some buckwheat flapjacks. A big ol' bowl held thick home cured hickory smoked bacon, sausages an' a little ham meat. They was two kinds o' gravy on the table; milk gravy an' red-eye gravy made from the grease off that ham.
Junebug's Daddy grabbed his Mama's hand, an' Junebug an' his two sisters joined the family circle as his Daddy prayed for the food:
"Dear Lord, I am right grateful for all the food sittin' before us, Lord. Y'all have done right by us from day one an' for that I thank thee. I give thanks for this farm an' for the crops. That rain the other day was appreciated, Lord Jesus, but I ain't gonna squawk none if y'all care to give us another one. I'd ask y'all to watch over they youngin's an' keep 'em healthy. Bless my Mam, dear Lord, cause she has taken the palsy something terrible. She is a shakin' so bad that she cain't hardly hold a glass o' milk. Now, Lord, y'all know I don't like to ask no favors or want special treatment for us, but if y'all see fit, jus' bless ol' Junebug with a champion this year. He has worked hard on them sheep an' done a right good job. Amen."
Junebug had opened his eyes when his Daddy started talkin' to the Lord about him. His eyes was as big as hen eggs when his Daddy bragged on him to the Lord Jesus. Junebug couldn't believe it. Them must be good sheep if his Daddy was a askin' the Lord to bless him.
He didn't stop grinnin' as he filled...an' emptied his plate. That grin stayed on his face as they rode to town an' even when they unloaded the sheep into their pen.
He had a sleepin' bag an' a suitcase with him that he put in the pen next to his sheep. A dozen other boys had done the same around him. At the other end o' the barn the girls was layin' out their beds an so on in pens next to their sheep. A couple of parents was there too, all set up in stalls in between for the rest o' the week. They were the 4H sponsors this year an' would ride herd on the youngin's in each barn.
Junebug hugged his Daddy an started to turn back to the barn.
"Ain't you a forgettin' somethin'?" his Daddy asked.
"I don't reckon."
"You ain't asked me for any spendin' money."
"Well sir, I saved a right smart bit this year. I thought I would do 'er on my own."
"Good man, Junebug. That makes me proud o' ye." His Daddy sounded real funny when he said that. Sort o' like he was chokin' or somethin'.
He hugged Junebug agin an' walked to the truck. "I'll be here Wednesday for the judgin', son."
"OK, Daddy. I'll be a seein' y'all then."
As his Daddy drove away, Junebug stuck his hands in his pockets. He felt somethin' in the left pocket where he kept his Case knife. When he pulled it out he saw the $10 his Daddy had slipped in as he was a huggin' him.
That grin crept to his face again. It didn't leave most o' the day.
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