Archives For November 30, 1999
Image compliments of: http://www.circlecinema.com
“What do you make of it?” asked Elsie
“I herd it was a wild party. The bulls all got drunk. They even had some heifer’s stripping for them!” cried Maybelle.
Bessie asked, “Maybelle, why are you crying?”
She replied,
“My bull Turbo is there. That’s his bullseye sticking out of that hole in the wall, I’d recognize it anywhere!”
The girls consoled poor Maybelle. Maybelle told what all she herd:
“The bulls herd the farmers were all out drinking green beer. They decided to get together at Daisy’s barn with her bull, oh…whathisname?”
Elsie interjected, “I believe her husband’s name if Fierce.”
“Yes, yes, that sounds right” replied Maybelle and she continued, “Poor Daisy is about ready to drop a calf, his calf, for goodness sake. That no good son-of-a-bull-paddy! Well, as I was saying, poor Daisy is near about ready to deliver, so she is in the calving barn.”
OH! How sweet”, said Elsie. “Is it a bull or a cow? Are we going to throw her a calf shower? Isn’t it her first?”
Maybelle glared at Elsie,
“What do I look like? Wiki?” “Would you kindly chew your cud so I can finish telling this story?” “Where was I before I was so rudely interupted–Don’t you dare answer that Elsie or I will tie you tail to your udders again!” “Let’s see, yes….I remember, the bulls decides to play while the cow is away, bulls will never grow up. They were over there gambling! Isn’t that just awful? Gambling our feed away! Shameful! Then they got into the farmers mash, drunker than Farmer Brown gets on his poker nights! I tell you the truth, I do! Remember how bad it was last time? I have pictures, here take a look..sinful it is!”
Fierce
Turbo
Maybelle proudly pulled the pictures out for the girls to see.
Bessie wondered how she got these pictures? Does she sneak around snapping pictures of all of us? Bessie’s thoughts were interrupted when Maybelle began to tell about the pictures.
“That first picture there is Fierce, poor Daisy’s bull. He doesn’t look so fierce to me! See how swollen his bag is?,” she laughed. “Daisy said he was in pain for 2 weeks! The farmer couldn’t figure out what happened to him. He kept rubbing save on his bag. She said Fierce would cry like a baby. He claimed that stuff burned!”
Maybelle was laughing so hard she was in tears. Elsie said, “Well what about the udder picture? The one of your Turbo? He sure looks funny!,” Elsie chuckled
Maybelle straightened herself up and was quick to make certain these ladies knew she meant business,
“Elsie, would you please let me finish my story?” shrieked Maybelle.
“My Turbo wasn’t near as bad off as Fierce! He had too much to drink, yes. As the picture revealed, he was drunk, but Fierce was down right disgustingly drunk!”
“So anyway, the bulls got into the mesh. They got themselves drunk and decided to wonder inside the farmers house to party. They wanted the air conditioning and all that soft furniture. So, they start toward the farmer’s house and ran into some heifers who just “happened” to be out there. They said if they could party with them, they would dance for the bulls and let it all hang loose!” Maybelle began to cry again.
By this time the ambulance had arrived. The girls decided they better go over so they could hear what was being said. Maybelle, afraid she was missing something, ran!
by Renee Robinson
Great, G,G,G,G Grandpa Festus
Oh my! I am still sorting through the family tree. I just can’t believe how many nuts there are! (Not to mention a sap or two!) Take Great-G-G-G-G-Grandfather Festus. He believed he was a cowboy, born and bred in Gold Dust, Texas. Truth be known, he was born in Eastern Kentucky in a small place called Coal Dust. He was raised on a farm about 5 miles outside of town. He had never stepped foot outside of his state. The only parts of Texas or cowboys he had ever seen were in the western story picture books he would read.
Great,G,G,G,G,Grandma Gizzy
As a boy, he was raised around horses. He became an accomplished rider. He grew into a fine-looking young man and married his childhood sweetheart, Gizzy. About a year after they married, Festus had an accident. Gizzy was pregnant with their first child. She went into labor.. Festus was scared to death. He saddled Horace, his horse, and rode as fast as he could to the midwife’s house.
However, Festus decided to take a “shortcut” across the holler and over the mountain. There was an old deer trail he knew he could follow. It was much shorter than traveling all the way down the hilly, winding, dusty holler. His mind was made up. Festus decided to take a “shortcut” across the holler and over the mountain. There was an old deer trail he knew he could follow. It was much shorter than traveling all the way down the hilly, winding, dusty holler. So over the mountain he went.
The family farm house. Coal Dust, KY
Festus was riding the horse much faster than he should on a mountain deer trail. He came to a particularly steep part of the mountain. It had been raining for days, and the mountain side was slippery. Festus paid no heed. He continued to ride as fast as he could down the steep slippery slope.
Well…..you guessed it, Festus had an accident. Horace lost his footing and tumbled down the mountain a fair piece. Festus was thrown head first onto a boulder alongside the path. His head hit hard against the boulder. He was knocked out.
Fortunately for Gizzy, the midwife, Jotti, had decided to visit. Gizzy was in full labor and ready to birth. It was quick and easy for a first time delivery. Little Igor was pink and healthy too. It was after Igor was born that Gizzy finally asked Jotti where Festus was.
Gizzy thought he must have decided to stay at Jotti’s and smoke pipe tobacco with Jotti’s husband, Kimby. Jotti said she never saw Festus. She was out making
Grandma Gizzy pregnant with Igor. I am not sure who the little boy is next to her, I think it is Grandma's nephew Percy.
her weekly rounds. She said that Kimby was with her. He saw that Horace was gone, so he knew Festus was too. Kimby often went with Jotti while she made her rounds. He enjoyed visiting and drinking moonshine with the husbands. Jotti wasn’t crazy about this because she would be stuck dragging a very drunk Kimby home, which included tying him to his horse and pulling him along.
Jotti went outside to find Kimby. He was in the barn sleeping in a bad of straw. She woke a very grumpy Kimby up and explained to him that Festus was missing. Once Kimby found out Festus was alone at his house, he jumped up and mounted his own horse. Yelling that weasel better not be in his moonshine or he would fill his backside up with buckshot! He was in a bigger hurry since he was worried about his moonshine, she thought sourly to herself.
When Kimby approached the area where the deer trail and the holler met, he was startled to see Horace standing there almost as if he were expecting Kiimby. Horace whinnied and carried on in a terrible way, Kimby knew of the shortcut. He was also aware Festus knew of the shortcut. In fact, Kimby and Festus frequently used the trail to get away from the revenuers. Kimby knew every nook, cranny, rock and any other spot which could be used to hide either himself or the booze.
The town of Coal Dust, KY
.
Kimby climbed off his horse and walked over to Horace. He was puzzled as to why Horace was here. However, he wanted to know where the hell Festus was. The way he figured it, Festus, seeing that no one was home, helped himself to the moonshine. Kimby figured Festus fell off Horace while trying to get his drunk ass back home.
Kimby climbed right back on his own horse and told Horace to get someone else to help. Kimby continued on down the path. Horace, crying, followed Kimby. Kimby was annoyed! Not only had Festus helped himself to his prized moonshine, his stupid horse was following him while crying like a school girl! The more Kimby thought, the angrier he became. Finally, he stopped so fast in his tracks, Horace’s nose smacked Kimby’s horse, Liquor, right in the rump.
Kimby was so angry he began cursing outloud. He was certain that Festus, the free-loader, not only helped himself to Kimby’s shine, but was also trying to steal a few bottles. This is probably why Festus never came home. Even though his own wife was in labor with his first baby, he was too yellow-bellied to face Kimby while he was sneaking a few bottles of Kimby’s shine home.
Family friend and midwife, Jotti with her daughter, Queenex
Kimby was not only going to find Festus, he was going to kick his ass! He turned his horse around so fast he bumped into Horace, who was still crying. What a wimpy, snot-nosed, four-legged baby Horace is, thought Kimby. For a moment, he thought of shooting the cry-sack just to put him out of his misery….well, ok, thought Kimby. He’d gladly shoot that damned horse to put HIMSELF out of his own misery. He decided to let the over-sized chicken shit live.
Kimby, with his shotgun in hand, started down the path. He swore he couldn’t hear himself fart with that cry-sack horse following so close behind. Kimby was amazed that dumbass Festus took this path with the condition it was in after 3 days of rain. However, considering the man was stealing, he figured Festus would do just about anything. Festus was also an idiot, so he had that going against him too, Kimby chuckled to himself.
As Kimby came to a particularly slippery curve, Horace began sniveling even more. He started to shake and back-up. Kimby didn’t know what the hell got into that stupid horse. Horace was the one who wanted to come this way and now he wants to turn back???? Kimby figured that horse was nearly as stupid as Festus.
Top Row, Left to Right: Nafe, Mud Bottom Row, Festus, Kimby
“What the…Oh my……No! Festus! Festus! Can you hear me buddy? Festus?” Kimby jumped off Liquor and ran over to Festus. He was sprawled against a boulder. It was obvious he had a head wound with all the dried blood both on his head and the rock.
“Festus! Can you hear me? Its me, your old drinkin’ buddy, Kimby. Can you hear me?”, shouted Kimpy who was feeling both guilty and frantic.
Festus opened his eyes. “Thank God!”, cried Kimby.
Festus said, “Baby”….
Kimby assured Festus both Gizzy and the baby were fine. He asked Festus if he thought he could stand on his feet with his help. Festus said he was willing to try. With great effort, pain and sweat for both men, Festus was on his feet. He leaned heavily on Kimby.
Festus, with great support from Kimby, dragged his feet as Kimby pulled, struggled and guided him along. It was a great challenge getting Festus on his horse. After several tries, Festus had an “alert” moment and shouted “kneel” to Horace. Shockingly, Horace knelt his front legs all the way down on his knees. Kimby was able to lift Festus up enough for him to get on the horse. Before allowing Horace to get back up, Kimby tied Festus on him.
The stage coach stopped in Coal Dust about once a month. It was a big deal and was frequently met with a parade of people anxious for the mail and the latest news.
Evidently, Festus and Kimby were making enough noise to disturb some nearby hunters. They cautiously wondered over until they recognized Kimby.
“Hey Kim, how’s the shine business goin’? I am pert near ready to tote me a bottle er two.” said Mud, the bigger of the two.
As they got closer, they saw Festus.
Dr. & Mrs. Orval
“Kimbo, whats wrong with Festy?”
By this time, Festus had passed out on Horace, who was still on his knees. They both were snoring. Kimby said he didn’t have the time to explain it all right then.
He said to the boys, Mud and Nafe, “Please, get Doc Orval. Tell him Festus is hurt real bad. Tell him to hurry, cuz I aint sure he is goin’ to live!”
Without question Mud and Nafe went after Doc Orval. Kimby tied Horace to Liquor and they headed back to the house.
As soon as Kimby and Festus arrived, Jotti burst outside.
“Where have you been? What took you so long? Gizzy has been asking for Fest-…..”
She broke off her sentence as she look toward Festus for the first time.
“Oh my! What happened? ”
“”Let me get him in the house, I will explain then.”
Jotti went on into the house to let Gizzy know Festus was home, but he had been injured. She helped Gizzy to move over in the bed and fluffed a pillow for him. Jotti let Gizzy know Kimby would explain everything just as soon as he got Festus settled in.
This is a postcard which I found in a trunk with Grandpa's things.
Just then, Kimby got Festus through the open doorway. Gizzy looked over at him and let out a gasp when she saw the head wound and bloody makeshift bandage..
Once Kimby got Festus into the bed, he told of how he come to find Festus. He said he didn’t know how Festus wound up on the boulder. He thought maybe a rattlesnake startled Horace. (For Gizzy’s sake, he decided not to mention how he mistakenly thought Festus stole his shine.) He said Festus has talked some, but mostly he has been sleeping or talking unnatural like. He mentioned how Mud and Nafe came along and went to fetch Doc Orval.
Just then the baby let out a little cry. He had been in the bed with his parents the entire time. Kimby gave the boy a looking over. He proclaimed the boy looked just like his Ma.
This painting was done by Grandma's Aunt Suzalou. Igor was around 5 months old, I think.
“Hallelujah, God Bless him and Amen!”, he shouted and he tossed his hat in the air. In spite of the situation, the women managed to chuckle.
Just then Mud, Nafe and Doc Orval came on in. Doc went straight to the bed. He frowned at Jotti, knowing she had delivered the baby, since Igor was crying at the moment. Ever since Doc found out Jotti was a midwife, they have never got along. He says it is an unsafe practice, only a licensed Doctor should deliver babies. Jotti claims his real gripe is that HE is losing money (and/or chickens, pigs and apple pies) by her delivering babies.
Doc grunted at Jotti and turned to Festus. He placed smelling salts under his nose. He had not been awake since getting on Horace. The salts made Festus snort and fart loudly. He opened his eyes and was staring directly into Doc Orval’s face. Festus squinted at the Doc and said, “Your breath smell like a dog’s ass!”
Doc turned red with embarrassment as Jotti, Kimby and Grandma chuckled.
Doc began to examine Festus. It soon became evident that Festus was “not in his right mind”, the diagnosis was “senility”, which is what they called anything that had to do with the mind – memory loss, hallucinations, and anything else that simply could not be explained in that day and time.
Grandpa's favorite hunting dog, Raquel.
In Grandpa’s case, he seemed to have created his own world. It was his fantasy since he was a child. He believed he was a cowboy in Gold Dust, TX. He knew everyone, including the Doc. He just didn’t like the Doc much. Grandpa wondered if Doc thought he was a fool. Doc is trying to get him to believe such malarkey that the liver will change colors, rot and basically die if it processes too much whiskey! Kimby and Festus both got a good chuckle over that. Ever since that day, neither one has cared for the Doc nor did they care if Doc knew how they felt.
Time went on. The baby grew and was now a year old! In spite of his delusions, Festus is a wonderful daddy. He dotes on his baby cowboy. Gizzy is now pregnant with child #2! She is due in about 3 more months. Festus is very excited. He hopes one day, he will have an entire bar full of cowboys and cowgirls.
Festus never did come back to reality. He lived the rest of his life very happy and satisfied living in “Texas” and being a “cowboy”. Other than this problem, Festus was his self. He still enjoyed drinking shine with Kimby. He still enjoyed hunting with Nafe and Mud. He still hated the Doc. Nope, nothing had changed except that he was now a proud father. They went on to have 8 more children, including this pregnancy.
Igor, a year old. Grandpa was giving him a bath. Grandpa always refused to take Igor's hat or boots off for bath time.
I want to thank – Jake of http://poemsandponderings.wordpress.com/ for the expression “sap” in the family tree. I had never heard this term before and thought it was cute. Jake is becoming a pretty good mentor and friend. He is an excellent writer. I believe you will enjoy his blog as much as I do. Click on over and check it out!
Wile E Hillbilly
The Path of Life I have been traveling never fails to twist into some unexpected surprises. One major obstacle I stumble upon frequently on this path is upon the feet of a friend of mine. For the purpose of my story, I will call him “WiIe E”.
Now ole Wile E is a unique individual who keeps the neighborhood interesting. I have often thought Hollywood could make a block busting comedy, if not even a series about the comings and goings on my street. Of course, I am “slightly” embellishing, but believe me when I say this is based upon a true story.
Wile E always creates a new path for me to follow. I can’t help but stop, watch, and listen when led in his direction. He is a tall lanky fellow with a full white beard, but still has his own set of teeth. He enjoys cigars, beer and football. He also has a talented ability to imitate just about everyone he encounters with such accuracy, you would swear the person he was impersonating was in his pocket.
He loves fire and guns which, by the way, is the basis of this particular story. Wile E is having a problem with ground moles. He will sit and watch the little buggers digging mounds of tunnels throughout his yard. Steam boils and rolls out of Wile E’s ears with every inch of tunnel the mole creates.
Soon he decided he had enough. One day, he hunkered down with his neck stuck out like a turtle and with narrowed eyes scanned the perimeter of his property and mine. I swear his ears work like radar, turning in the direction of every move the mole would make.
When the earth would start to move his heart would skip a few beats. He would slowly stand up and get the pitchfork ready. With great care and aim, he pounced,drilling the pitchfork down into the very path of the mole.
Gleefully he would look to see his reward. There it was, a beheaded mole. Laughing and jumping uncontrollably, Wile E would stab the mole, picking him up and burying him in the woods next to Cookie, my beloved dog. Soon, a small graveyard emerged.
It wasn’t long before Wile E decided it would be much more productive to use a shotgun instead of a pitchfork. So, he began to hunker down with his turtle neck and narrow eyes scanning the perimeter and ears rotating and wait.
Once again, he would spot the earth moving and giddy with anticipation, we would creep up into the mole’s path. With sweat pouring off his brow, eyes narrowed, and shotgun raised, he would hold his breath and aim.
Pow!
The shotgun would crack. He’d run around, chasing the mole’s path.
Pow!
He’d run some more yipping and yowling like a drunken hillbilly. He’d whoop and holler,
“I got you, you lowdown scurvy varmint!” “Your ass is mine!”
Pow! Pow! Pow!
“Yeehaw! I gotcha!”
Laughing so hard he could barely walk, he’d fetch the pitchfork.
“Heeheehee!” “Take this, you son of a broomstick!”
He’d hook his prize and half walking half skipping, go up to the woods to place the mole with his ancestors in the graveyard.
Wile E enjoys coming over to show off his empty shotgun casing, proudly telling what he had done. It is much like the way a cat drags in a dead bird, strutting and showing his family he has earned his keep.
It doesn’t take much to keep Wile E entertained and I must admit he does a fine job entertaining me as well.
</a
Nae's Nest 