Gailie and I liked kicking around the tiny town where my grandparents lived… life there was so vastly different from where I was growing up in the burbs of a major northern city. Here everyone knew everyone and everyone knew everyone’s family no matter where they were from. Everything there moved slow… the people moved slow the animals moved slow the cars moved slow even the bugs moved slow (and there were lots more of them). Miss Claire Edwards not only played the piano at the church and directed the “choir” but she held quite a prestigious position in town. She owned and operated the general store/post office/beauty-shop/barbershop/gas station. Man what a Woman!!! When she was giving out mail she wore a green visor and she only gave out mail at a certain time of the day. This was a perfectly understood and never disputed rule. Miss Edwards in her green visor stood very high in the middle of the store because the post office was distinguished by being raised two feet above the rest of the store. Right SQUARE in the middle of the three-isle store was the post office. The small mail boxes with the tinted green glass windows the gold number and tiny gold ball handles…sitting in the middle of the store, raised slightly above the food isles and towns people reaching between the cheerios and cornflakes to get their mail. At the time which Gailie and I walked in Miss Edwards was the store clerk she wore a blue apron when she managed the store. She was cutting Baloney (a food group of it’s own in the deep south) for Mrs. Doucer (she had a brood of kids at home, 1/8th of the towns total population). Gailie and I walked around the isle’s looking at cookies and chips. There were three big jars of candy on the counter next to the “butcher shop” where Miss Edwards was sawing Mrs. Doucer 10 lbs of Thick Sliced Baloney. Trying to decide what to buy with so little funds was going to be hard. We had to save a dime for a Yahoo chocolate soda … we were both getting anxious to be waited on and it seemed like forever for Mrs. Doucer’s order to get done. Finally, she was done and her Baloney was wrapped in brown paper and her bread and peanut butter were on the counter waiting for her to pay. Miss Edwards said cash or do you want this on your credit. Mrs. Doucer said, “put it on my tab”. Gailie and I both looked at each other. It was our turn and we put some shortbread cookies and a small bag of hard candy on the counter. Miss Edwards said is that all girls and without missing a word said will this be on the tab. I said yes on the Tab… she put our items in a small bag and smiled at us. We smiled back, still waiting for her to charge us for our purchase… then she said okay girls I have to get back to the post office you have a blessed day. SHE NEVER ASKED FOR OUR MONEY!!! We were able to get a Yahoo chocolate soda AND a grape Knee-hi…Talk about two happy little girls… The next day we planned a picnic… The tiny store was NOW our friend… We went into the store bright and early the next morning and got some of that baloney, bread, mayo, tomatoes, a bag of chips and some windmill cookies. Miss Edwards wrapped it up and we said with authority,“ Put it on the TAB” !! She said buying on credit again girls… we said yes Maam. Everyday was something new and exciting for us to do and we got our lunch from the store…Just TAB it… At Supper somewhere around the 4th night of our newfound adventure of just Put it ON THE TAB; a discussion was brought up at the table…about credit. I asked is having credit, good? EVERY single adult at that table said YES…. Having credit is Good. Gailie and I smiled because we knew we were doing the right thing. Saturday morning came and Gailie’s mom Aunt Norma and my mom took us to the big town for some banking and shopping. Coming from dirt-poor family roots has taught them how to make 50 meals with Spam and noodles always purchased at the Piggly Wiggly. NO frills were ever purchased not even Wonder Bread, it was viewed as too extreme. (I attributed missing out on those wonder bread essentials of “builds strong bodies twelve ways” as why I never got the presidential award in P.E). We left the big city populations1,123 and headed back to my Grandma’s town population 150. Aunt Norma said we have to pay the Credit at Miss Edwards and get the mail. (Mail was only gotten weekly by my family). Gailie and I waltzed right into the store with our mom’s… not one negative thought about it. Somewhere all hell broke loose… Miss Edwards was appalled, our mothers were embarrassed and furious and immediately Gailie and I new that Just Put it on the Tab was WRONG!!! This was one of those lessons that a whole town teaches you ( there might be something to Hilary Clintons’ it take a neighborhood??). Everyone we met for the rest of the day told us what and how he or she would have punished us. Our lesson in Sunday School was about stealing… the sermon was about buying on Credit and how even GOD punishes those who buy without means… I hope the Preachers next sermon was on gossip…

I have no siblings so my cousin has become a surrogate sister. Gailie and I were as close as two peas in a pod, as mischievous as two little girls could get. What one couldn’t think of the other could or would… the words we shouldn’t do this weren’t in our vocabulary… I blame this partly on the funny stories we would hear our parents tell about their youth while living on the farm and it is obvious to me that my mischievous side was genetically formed. Special instructions were given to us by our Grandpa to stay clear of the cows. I have a mean Bull. Simply stated. Hot Deep South, on a farm no air conditioning that is a mix for a problem with Gailie and I. We tried the shade tree with no luck. We tried going back inside the farm house and lay in front of the fan which did work for a minute until the sounds of our singing face first into the fan with all the tiiinnklleee tttiiinkkklleee lliiittlleee starrrr became annoying and we were chased back outside. Hot as hell to coin a Southern saying. We watched as the cows came into drink at the trough. Slurping and drewling and dipping their noses into the water. I watched carefully trying to pick out which was the bull by the expression on its face. Being young and from the City I had limited insight to check elsewhere. The cows left the trough one by one after getting their fill of the water. Gailie and I started pumping water into the less than half full trough… splashing in the water as much as we could from the other side of the fence. I think it was the heat that made us decide to swim in that trough…. So we pumped and pumped until we filled it all the way up and looked out for adults of any kind and there were none around… So bending the barbed wire fence down we made our way to the forbidden side. As soon as we climbed in we knew it was the Right thing to have done. It was great. Cold water from the deeply dug well cooled us instantly. Amazing as it seems I don’t remember any cow slobber while I was diving under water in that trough. I do remember coming up for air spurting and spitting right in the face of the Biggest Cow I ever saw!! Gailie was still underwater when I pulled her up by her hair. We both plastered ourselves against the far side of that trough with our legs tucked under us like frogs. To this day I am unsure of how or why we hopped out of that trough and took off running away from the fence into the cow pasture. Which scared that “cow” named MIKE…. And He decided we were an invasion. Barefoot running through cow pies both fresh and not with that “cow” on our heels. Gailie had quite a set of lungs on her and let out some of the most blood-curdling screams I had ever heard. Then I heard the loudest scream of all and it was from me after that “cow” had my ponytail and was lifting me off the ground. In the background I heard voices, voices of distressed people yet familiar voices and then I saw this Red Studebacker truck come flying by me. Like a knight in white shinning amour on a stallion my Grandpawas driving that truck through that cow field bouncing airborne. My dad and my two uncles were in the back waving their undershirts wildly and screaming something that sounded like Harooona BULL. It was at that point I knew this cow was the BULL and he was pushing on me. I saw the truck make a big circle and my Dad yelling some kind of instructions to me that I couldn’t hear over the pounding of my heart in my chest through my ears. I didn’t want to look back I really didn’t need to, the BULL was knocking me along wanting me to fall so he could trample me to death. (Just like it would have happened on the Rifleman). The truck swung around and my uncle hung over the side and grabbed my ponytail and one arm then flung me in the bed of the truck. Saving me gave me more bruises than the BULL could have. Then came the LOOKS… those LOOKS that only parents and adults who love you can give. Those I am so disappointed in you LOOKS. Those I am going to punish you within an inch of your life looks. Getting out of the truck and trying to seem sweet and innocent was NOT working. My mother and my Aunt walked up to us and gave each of us a paring knife and said. NOW MISSY you go out to the Willow tree and get a switch. Picking a switch was a hard task to manage…

I like writing this Blog using the IM feature with aol... BUT once i push enter POOF there is goes without a spell check and with me that could be detrimental... Life's stories... Let's start years ago at some of life's funny things you first learn at the hand of people you are chosen to belong in their family... my family is for the most part extremely fundamentalists if you can say conservative then you have an understanding .... if you can say deep south... you have another understanding.... the misconception is they are boring... Who started this nonsense that conservatives are boring?? As with everything in life we shouldn't put stero types on individuals...about the time we do they go and surprise us.... In the tiny bitty itty tiny bitty town in rural southern usa there was this family...my family.... and my family believed in family values and believed in sharing stories and laughing and my family believed in CHURCH... boy do they... sundays meant all 14 of us who came to visit Grandma in her one bedroom home were getting ready for Sunday church at the same time (there were no motels or hotels so we all stayed in the same house together... Bonding???? ... if you were lucky enough to be small enough to have fit is a wash tub then you were already bathed the night before... if not then you were at the mercy of the wash basin or the bowl of water or directly from the pump... refreshing as hell in the winter... going to the back screened in porch covered with plastic standing there in that NOT at all toasty warm room with nothing but a small space hearter directly facing the pump and priming the pump up and down teeth chattering and waiting for the freezing cold water to gush forth and get your already frozen body and making it ice water wet... splashing hurriedly you catch a birdy bath and brush your teeth... privacy is not an option... so you get dressed in your sundays finest in ONE big hurry... and then have your mother, aunts and grandma adjust your clothing ,your hair, wipe smudges from your shoes straighten out our socks and tell you how darling you look and how Miss Clair Edward is going to love having you in choir this morning... and maybe by Wednesday you can sing a special for the church... (HORROR !!) Why we all piled into cars to go around the block was never understood by me... ithought why don't we all just walk... gravel flying as the 4 cars full of my family arrived at the church in the town of 150... we were the biggest news since last years record cotton crop... All the men stood outside smoking or chewing tobacco.. (which if you didn't know is NOT a sin in the tobacco growing South but IS a Sin in the non tobacco growing North). All the woman walked in and greeted everyone with a warm Hello Sister So in So, hello Brother So in So.... how is the little So in So's... my job was to stand cute and smile and let my dimples show so all the local people could ask who i was.... Why this is Barney's Girl.... you know they live in the Big City... don't get down this way much we are just so blessed to have them this wonderful Sunday morning.... Talk about affirmations... all the Sister and Brother So in So's all rave about you and how darling you are and much you look like your handsome father... and how they always knew he would have a beauty like you.... (this ruins a person for life... it is like being in hollywood the rest of your life you long for this much attention....lol) then before you know it one of my Aunts says oh and she sings like a lark.. has a voice that stops the angels... we are going to ask Sister Edwards if she will have her sing a special the coming Wednesday ... (HORROR again !!) I am saved by the piano of Miss Edwards starting the prelude and the choir call is made... NO one who is not in the Choir is allowed to sing... NO singing in the pews only in the Choir.... so the females in the family march proudly to the front of the church behind the pulpit and take our position in the Choir... my father and my one uncle join but the rest take their postion in the pews to cheer us on with their hearty Amens!!! .... Sister Edwards turns to us and says Chawowire we are opnin with Bringinnn innn the Sheeevees..... Sister Edwards had one speed on the piano VERY VERY Sloooowwww..... which i noticed matched the local choir memebers since they put extra syllables in every word which meant by the end of the song it all matched up... a miracle within itself !!... "seeewinnnn inn the mooorrninnn seewiinnnn seeeds uv kandnessss sewwinnn inn the noooontimmmm an the laight ov daayy....la la la la until you heard Sister Edwards' fingers jam on the piano meaning END IT NOW !!!!!! The preacher was an ever changing Being... in a town of 150 in a church of 100 there wasn't too much funds to support a preacher and his family... mostly the preachers were from other churches from local towns of 500 populatin who could support a man and his family... so they took turns at my Grandma's church... After church one cousin and i would run back to Grandma's peeled quickly out of those Girl clothes (which was painful for me, i was Such a TOM boy...) and get into some corderoy pants and saddle oxfords and some pull over top and put on your winter jacket, which depending on which year you were into either fit or your rolled up the sleeves.. winter jackets were bought to fit for Two years... and be ready to play ... before the rest of the family got into the cars in the parking lot at the Church House (which is the true southern name for church). We played while we waited for the Sunday meal to be fixed.......