The Ineradicable Redneck Blues

God knows I have tried to shield my children from their redneck roots. Their father was from New York and even taught them to use dungarees instead of bluejeans. We read actual books. We banned the Dukes Of Hazard and visited museums instead of demo -derbies. To this day we never put ketchup on anything, drink soda instead of pop, and eat salad instead of fried okra. No one smokes or chews. Anymore.

Nevertheless my little charade was shaky from the first, because of course my children had to meet their rural kin from time to time. Things really went to hell in a handbasket last year when I moved us all closer to Bug Tussle, my hometown. The scales fell from their eyes and they have been telling family stories ever since.

Last Thursday my youngest had lunch with a cousin who lives in another county. She came home with this story--a kind of Red Green Flip This Property. It is too good not to tell.

It seems that a family of cousins have recently inherited a fairly nice old farmhouse on an acre or three of land. The idea is to fix the property as best they can before selling it for a profit. Right now the house is only worth about 30,000$ because the old aunt who lived in it hadn't fixed anything for years. So several cousins moved out of their rentals and into the house in order to save money and to do the repairs on the weekends.

The twins, both young mothers, are staying home to provide daycare while their husbands and sibs do their day jobs. This is incredibly sharp thinking for that particular branch of the family.

All was going well until one afternoon when a ginormous crow managed to rip through an upstairs window and terrorize the twins. It also crapped all over a newly sanded floor. The twins loaded up all six kids and tore out for the local DQ where they called Drunk Uncle Ronnie. He is the family exterminator and dead animal removal since he no longer works.

Now of course Drunk Uncle Ronnie is not his full name. His full name is really Big Indian Drunk Uncle Ronnie, but since even rednecks have standards of political correctness these days, it has been shortened to Drunk Uncle Ronnie.

Anyway, as the twin's mother pointed out, calling Drunk Uncle Ronnie was not a bad idea. In fact, had it been earlier in the day it would have been an excellent idea. Before his lunch of two sixpacks, a Slim Jim and a Mr. Goodbar, Uncle Ronnie is usually on top of the critters. But much after lunch Drunk Uncle Ronnie starts drinking hard.

Anyway he showed up at the house with a shotgun and got the pesky crow in only three shots. The problem is he shot him in the dining room. He also clipped an antique china cabinet, but the cabinet was empty and not in the best shape. The main damage is the bloody outline of a crow blasted into the dining room wall. Even wallpaper is not covering it.
Anyway I am wondering if anyone else has crazy family stories to tell. We are collecting them---s6

intro to family

stick it? i'd love to use it !!!!! i promise to change the tv to a radio--a battery operated atwater-kent perched on a porch rail sometime in the late forties. you already know the tosser: a teenaged connie dupee. the tossee is her one eyed, moonshining father, lon wilkes. con su permiso?--s6

over the crick and through the pasture

i am heading off for a family holiday dinner. i have my laptop, pie fixings, a lot of misgivings. i cannot be the only one with a loud, contentious, know-nothing family. bicker is our lifestyle. and there will be bickering today. over store bought vs. home made; over camera shooting vs. blowing the shit out of bambi; over christmas tunes and metal vs. rap; oyster vs. cornbread stuffing; beowulf the cartoon vs. beowulf the epic. god forbid anyone bring up religion or politics.

anyway this is just to let you all know that i love my family and tonight if i happen to be ranting on the "what stupid thing did you do today?" thread-take it with a grain of salt-i do love those redneck asses--s6

everything is up to date in kansas city

another tornado zoomed macksville last night. may 5 was the anniversary of the one that leveled greensburg and clipped off the bottom half of macksville. last weekend we had a memorial in the park and dedicated a stone bench in memory of the deputy who was killed that night. so everyone has been a little weather spooked lately. used to be we'd just stand on our porches and stare skyward when the sirens sounded.

when i heard that stafford county was on watch i drove 40 miles to purchase renter's insurance, a luxury that many of our citizens cannot afford. and a big flashlight and a bag of beef jerky. i hate jerky myself but the indians swore by it. since the last tornado left us without water or electricity for a week i figured it would come in handy.

when i got home the sky was that creepy greeny black color. i collared and boxed the pets, using the jerky as a lure. next i bundled up my beta read novels, my mother's jewelry, the checkbook, photo albums and computers and stashed them in a closet. then the sirens went off. so i swept the basment and put up folding chairs because i knew the neighbors would be over soon as they caught their chickens. they don't understand much english, especially when stressed, so I have to translate the radio for them.

the door burst open and my daughter stomped in, soaking wet. she had been out parking the cars under the carport because of the hail.

"you gonna bake &%#@ cookies too?" she shrieked down the basement stairs as she gathered her important stuff together. (mostly shoes and beauty products.) like her nyc father she is easily rattled by tornado sirens.

"no, maria usually brings something to snack on. and the holy candles. so find your rosary and stop cursing now. you know how it upsets her when you curse in front of the kids. and don't say a thing about her chickens blowing away. you know how she cries."

"*&^^%$#@ i am so #### glad i am moving out of this ^^$#**% one horse town next week. if it's not a ****ing tornado it is a ***** ice storm and 5 day **** blizzard!" she exclaimed.

yeah. to kansas city. crime. traffic. concrete backyards. outrageous rent. no fresh eggs. no garden salads. the neighbors never speak to you--even if they do speak english. some people don't know when they got it good.