Maybe you didn't nitice....

But, did anyone ever catch Papa dragging the road and every other damn piece of dirt that he could get to? He actually got to the point that he bought a road grader to do the road with! I guess the Knox County road crews just sucked that much.

No, I'm not bagging on Papa, but Ang and I haven't had a whole lot of fun stuff happen lately and I thought I would lighten the mood a little.

Oh! There is this one other little thing that used to amuse us. Papa never heard Granny when she spoke to him. Angie and I used to joke about it. "ROBERT!!!", Granny would finally say, as Papa sat 3 feet from her at the dinner table. Then, the next day, as we got up at, oh I don't know, 5 a.m. to go hunting, in the freezing cold, or the humid heat, with the windows down, in his diesel pickup, I would wisper, "Did you see that?" The answer was almost always the same. "Yeah, I saw it, I was just waiting to see if you did." "Heard me did ya?", always ran through my head, but I never said anything. Hell, half the time after the spread that Granny put out, I didn't hear anything either, I just wanted to take a nap.

Jesus, do the words Barbecued weenies mean anything to you or not? O.K. then, how about Chicken and Dumplings? Steak and Gravy? Yes I capitalize food, but only some food! I even liked her Meatloaf, and I hate meatloaf. Wake up people, I'm talking about food here! Pan fried, oh I don't know, Pork Loin, Okra Squash Potatoe Onion combo, Vinegar Cucumbers, Catfish, Quail, Dove, Deer Steak. I'm rambling, but you get the point. Damn good reasons to be distracted, or go totally, if temporarily, deaf.

Oh hell, I'm into it now, how about one more? What do you say? Yes?

O.K. Here goes.

Papa and Granny were robbed at least twice in my memory. Maybe more, but twice for sure. Once the robbers took a bunch of guns. Well, Papa, Dad and I went to Abilene to get Papa a new .300 Savage. That was HIS gun, period. We looked at several and none of them suited his fancy, so we bought a new 4-wheeler instead. You have all seen it, it was the Honda.

Well, on the way home, Dad and Papa dropped me off down the road at "the lane." Obscure to most of you, I know, but about a mile south of the house, you know, down just past the land that Scott Stevens owns now, you know, Butch's boy, maybe George owns it now, but whatever. I rode it home from there for impact, surprise if you will. But Papa was the one person that could go buy anything and it wouldn't surprise anyone. There is no telling how many times, or how far, I rode that Honda and it still holds a higher place with me than my 4-wheeler does. Hell, that may be where it all started. If it was, well then, thank you Papa.

Pre P.S. This was a trip just after the seatbelt laws came out and Dad told Papa that he would have to put on his seatbelt. Papa refused, because, as he said, "Seatbelts make me sick as a mule." Now, to this day, I have never seen a sick mule, but they must get pretty sick to make a person not want to put on a seatbelt. First and last time I have ever heard that analogy used.

Hope you enjoyed a little bit of this.

Jim