If you visit me in Tennessee, there's really no tellin' what might happen. When a couple of my friends, affectionately referred to by Skewedview as the Cereal Brothers (they are not brothers, but their names ARE Krister and Crispen) visited a few years ago, we spent a fair amount of their one and a half day visit at Target looking at pajamas resembling a Twister game mat. And when Schatze and Roxy came, we took an hour detour from the 3-hour trip between my aunt's house and my dad's just so we could take a picture in front of a sign that said "Welcome to Nutbush, TN. Birthplace of Tina Turner."
I have just returned from a 10-day trip home which, again, did not disappoint. During Neil's 2-day-visit portion of the trip, the first thing we did was go straight from the airport to lunch. At a gas station. In a ghetto. We ate in the car with napkins as bibs as a man tried to sell us ankle socks.
The heat wave had ended and it wasn't too hot while he was there. Plus we had Skewedview's new pool to cool off in anyway. And I'm sure Neil wasn't alarmed or anything when my grandmother showed up to the big pool party that night with a shotgun.
Luckily, he had missed earlier escapades such as when we were at the lake and my cousin announced that the boat police were out and my aunt Diane, who had just gotten on the boat with a beer "better hide her booze" and her sister Patty misheard and started yelling "Diane, hide your boobs!" Or when we sat around for a long time playing a made up game where someone asks a question where the answer is a word that ends in O and you have to say the answer followed by "yo." For example, "What did Austin Power lose?" "His mojo, yo." Or later that night when we were setting off a lot of fireworks and Skewedview and I requested that Diane sing "God Bless America" while he and I provided backup for her. No one seemed too impressed except my uncle Tim who threw some quarters at us. And on the 4th of July, while the rest of America was cooking out, we were at home watching Danny Deckchair and having the best Banana Splits of my life for dinner.
In other food-related events, one day we went to The Old Country Store for a late lunch and ordered the buffet. When the buffet was ready, one of the cooks came out of the back and loudly rang a large triangle to let us know the chow was ready, causing a mad rush by about 15 people hidden behind the door waiting for their supper. But the best was during the NASCAR-style drive back to DC. Neil and I stopped for a country breakfast at a restaurant next door to Loretta Lynn's Kitchen called the Log Cabin. When Neil headed to the restroom, he walked in on a man who had not locked the door. As he apologized and turned to step out of the one-room restroom containing a toilet and a urinal, the man quickly spoke up in his thick country accent and told Neil to come on in, "It's a two-holer."
And that, ya'll, was nigh on one of the best trips home I've had in a month of Sundays.
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8 comments:
You and your family are so fabulous.
Likewise, Kacy.
I, too, have experienced "holiday lake parites" in the South, and, holy heckfire! what a good time. Shotguns, banana splits, boobz...er booze and fireworks...a winnign combination. You are one lucky lady.
A two-holer? What will they think of next!
I hope you and Neil had a good time!
Our family would not be the same without you and your sweetness in it!
I think you stole this blog from a Dukes of Hazzard episode. Admit it.
It was my first visit to the South, and I have to say that I loved it, thanks in large part to Marcy's wonderful family. Those guys are f-u-n fun, nice, and just a little crazy. And Marcy's grandma makes the best chocolate pie on earth.
I knew I should have made it down to Tennessee for the 4th! Sounds like I missed a great time. I wish I had a photo of my sweet mama getting out of her Cadillac with a shotgun!
We missed you, healthwriter4! Wish you could have made it too.
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