*No edits*No structure*No worries*
Streaming live from my brain for later use, in no particular order:
We’d traveled to Coahoma County, Mississippi to celebrate the 90th birthday of my husband’s grandfather. He was sharp as a knife and had a love for every person as big as the wide open country sky. The cotton crop in mid-October left much to be desired. The farmer’s were going through a severe drought, an indication of their families’ financial future that year. The days were unseasonably yet delightfully warm, and the nights rather cool for the humidity I’d come to associate with the heavy atmosphere of the Yazoo Delta. We’d spent our first afternoon out at Papaw’s mobile home, surrounded by the good nature and ribbing of our southern relatives along with several pecan trees and swarms of no-see-ums in the air. I’d come to love these laid back southern style visits which always included fried chicken and a large dose of southern gospel wit and wisdom. While it wasn’t my home, I felt very much at home there, always learning something new about life from the wisdom of Papaw and the love of a great family. That weekend was no different. As the evening drew to a close and the coral-colored sunset disappeared between the run-down barn and towering pecan trees, we packed up the car and headed back to the casino hotel just a few minutes down the road. Not down the interstate; there were none close by. Just down the road. I suppose that’s why down there whenever you ask where something is, folks just say, “It’s justa thataway, down the road.”
Sunday, October 21, 2007
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2 comments:
I look forward to reading more of this. I knew a guy in college from Yazoo City, MS and he told the best stories.
Tessie: Thanks, girl. yeah, the South is easy to write about. There's just something so poetic about it. Thanks for stopping by!!!
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