Underage Thinking

I was thinking about context and perspective and thinking that we are all searching for both in our life. Then I decided we weren't really searching for them, it's more like we're surprised when we discover them, one or both.

What set me off on this thought was that I was hoeing and had just kicked up a renegade goat's head sticker plant.

When I was little, around three or so, we used to go to the butcher and get the gut wagon, which is exactly what you would think it is. My dad and uncle used to heat the remains in a huge trough and feed them to the pigs. In this offal there was intestines, blood and heads. Some were goat heads. One of my fondest childhood memories is when my little step-sister and I would sit on the fender of the wagon and dare each other to look in, hands clenched, head against the side of the trailer, ducked down, saying "No, you do it!", "I'm not gonna do it, you do it!". Ah, the tender years of youth.

One day, my grandmother made the comment that the field was so full of trash the tractor plow had goat heads dragging from it.

I can't tell you how many years it took me to realize what kind of goat heads she was talking about, but, boy, did the light shine bright over my head then.

Lemony Lemonade

All during the week I think of at least a half-dozen good topics to talk about, and many more that would be inappropriate, but come time to put fingers to keys, it's like my mind is stuck between channels. Where are all those specific points I made while talking to myself (in my head, I hope), where are all those prolific, ecclesiastical realizations I came to that I couldn't wait to share with you all? Gone. Like the wind.  Like Tuesday, as Skynyrd says. I can barely put two sentences together. Ok, it's not that bad. You might say "Write those ideas down so you can remember". I've got a whole drawer of reminders. There's nothing quite as stale as an idea gone cold.

I keep trying to think of positive things about this remarkable heat (lemonade from lemons), because if I can't think of an upside, I'm gonna brain myself. Here's my little list:

1. You can hang clothes on the line and they're dry in about five minutes. By the way, let me brag here about the new clothes line that Mr. Me put up. It's snazzy! I don't think I've ever had such tight wires.
2. You can see which plants are the hardiest and use those to landscape your yard. Go somewhere that there are plants you would actually want, like Rough Creek. Or the Caribbean.
3. You appreciate 6:30 a.m. a lot more, since it's the only time that is bearable to be outside.

That's it, I'm tapped. It's pretty miserable.

The photo is one of the multiple little shower clouds that we've watched float around us. On July 3, we saw a tornado, but it only lasted about 40 seconds. No, really, and I have witnesses. Mr. is the one who said, "Yes, I see it, it's a tornado," after I said "I must be seeing things". Also, I heard through the grapevine that Bobby Wright saw it, too. We thought it was over by the gin, but it must have been closer to Sardis.

It looks like someone has taken interest in the old Beavers store up at Camp Springs. There was a pick-up with old appliances from inside the house on it and I saw a guy on a little backhoe working up there. The realtor's sign that's been there for a few years is gone. I wish it would be a store, again, but I think only someone who didn't want to make money would open one up. It sure would be convenient for us locals, though.

We spent the Fourth in Roscoe on the second. I don't know what it is about the town that makes it so good for festivals. It was like being at a gigantic family reunion. It probably has a lot to do with organizational skills, as well as the good people of the town.

I got my electric bill this week and I did NOT have a heart attack. It was just about a fifth of what I expected it to be. Thank goodness for little mercies. I hope all of you will find some of your own.