Blog Entries

  My grandmother or MaMa’s name was Nannie Bell McLeod. I was named after her but was named only, Nan. MaMa went by the name of Nannie but changed it or shortened it to Nan at her 76^th  May birthday. Her boyfriend Ralph always called her Nan so we can only imagine that is the reason of why she shortened her name after so many years. The following Christmas after she had changed her name, we, the family and Ralph were in the living room exchanging Christmas gifts. As tradition, the youngest kids always gave out the gifts to the named recipient. My pile was extremely large this particular Christmas year of which I did not complain. I opened several gifts of which I was extremely happy to receive as this was a great gift giving year so far. At that point, I was handed several gifts with my name written on the tag, but not with the name of who they were given from. In any case, I continued opening my presents. Weirdly, I opened four presents and could not figure out who they could have been from or why they were giving such odd gifts. The gifts consisted of a pair of thigh high stockings, bright candy apple red finger nail polish, an apron and a hair net. I was totally confused and yelled out into the happily excited loud blustery Christmas spirited room, “Hey, who gave me these crazy gifts?” All at once, everyone one in the room stopped talking and looked at me and the gifts that I was holding up in the air with my hands. All of a sudden, Ralph stood up from sitting beside MaMa, walked over to me and snatched the gifts out of my hands. Madly, he said, “Why did you open up Nan’s Christmas presents. They were special from me.” Omg, that was horrible. Yes, I admit that.

  My brother-in-law Mike, bought a brand spanking new lawn mower. Apparently, this is not your typical lawn mower but the envy of most men within the neighborhood. Mike came over to the house one day to see his brother Clay and to talk and discuss information about Clay’s Kubota riding zero turn lawnmower. This particular zero turn lawnmower cost $15,000 and sports all the bells and whistles. Soon after Mike’s lawnmower purchase, he eagerly mowed his yard and couldn’t believe how much he loved his new riding lawn mower. Mike was extremely proud of his purchase. He had mowed his yard twice and so far, had accumulated approximately five hours on his zero-turn mower. On his second mowing outing, he saw his puppy run over to him. Mike noticed his dog was acting peculiar and continued watching him. The puppy ran straight over to Mike on the lawn mower and fell down. Mike said he fell out limp as a biscuit. Mike pulled up on his brakes, cut off his lawnmower, hopped off and grabbed up the dog. Mike immediately ran to his truck and quickly drove to the veterinary’s office. The veterinary told Mike to leave the limp puppy with them in order to run test to see what was wrong with the dog. She told Mike to not worry and she would call him soon with some news and results. Therefore, reluctantly and after a couple of hours, Mike left the dog and drove back home. When he got home, he walked into the back yard so that he could finish mowing the grass. To Mike’s surprise, he could not find his lawnmower. His first thought was that someone had stolen his brand new zero turn lawnmower. He stood in his yard and turned in a circle while looking for his lawn mower. Mike could not figure out what in the world had happened to his lawnmower. Suddenly, he noticed something rather odd. He walked down to his pond to further investigate. Low and behold, there was his lawn mower partially submerged in the pond! Mike could not believe his eyes nor his stupid luck. Mike’s brand-new lawnmower had rolled down the hill and smack into the pond. After seeing his poor new drowning lawnmower, he got his tractor and pulled it out of the pond. Mike called the store of where he had purchased his lawnmower and explained the situation and what had happened. They arrived within the hour, loaded the lawnmower up and took it away to work on it. Luckily, the pond water had not gotten into the gas line and it was going to be fine. Later that night, the veterinarian called Mike and told him that his puppy was going to be fine and doing much better. She could not explain why he acted and had gotten sick but felt that he had eaten something that he should not have eaten. Mike was relieved of the news and glad that this day was over. Yes, he admits that.

This is a true story. Names have been changed to protect the guilty. It is the story of Dr. Taxinstein and the Hawk.

  There once was a man who in his youth became quite proficient at running a trap line and skinning and tanning hides. As his skills increased friends fed his ego saying, “You have become so good at this you should apply your talents to taxidermy.”

  So, it was the young man believed them, but while he knew all about trap lines, taxidermy was a different level entirely – as far beyond skinning and tanning as a neurosurgeon is to a shaman with a rattle. He needed help to advance.

  He found such help. It came in the form of a mail order taxidermy course complete with its own instructions and tool kit. Barney Fife now had a bullet for his gun. It was in this manner the ridiculous education of Dr. Taxinstein came to pass. He would bring his creatures to life, not through lightning bolts, but by the unsteady hand of his mail order scalpel.

  He studied his instruction deeply and found the course demanded the first creature he should reanimate would be a bird. Later, in reflection, he would understand why. If a taxidermist could mount a bird, then deer and other creatures of fur would be simple compared to those of feather.

  The doctor needed specimens for his laboratory (which was a packhouse now devoid of tobacco), but was still consumed running his trap lines, so he asked his friends, who preferred hunting, to help him in the procurement of such samples. “When you are hunting your deer, if it is a day without luck, shoot me a crow or two if you have on you a weapon of less caliber so I will have something to practice with for my great quest,” he directed them.

  A few days passed before a friend complied with his wishes. He approached the doctor and said, “I have you a specimen in my truck.” To which Dr. Taxinstein replied: “My good fellow you have procured me a bird for my work!” At the doctor’s excitement his friend placed a finger to his lips in the universal gesture that begged silence and blew out an audible “Shhhhhhh,” followed by, “Not so loud, I will show you the specimen after work today. I have him in a black bag made of plastic.”

  The day passed and it was time for the specimen’s unveiling. His friend pulled the black plastic bag from his truck and looked right then left nervously before opening its neck to reveal its contents. Peering inside the blackness the doctor was aghast with horror. A hawk lay at the bottom of the blackness its neck shot almost completely in two.

  “What is this you have done!” exclaimed Dr. Taxinstein with alarm, “I asked you for a crow or two not a federally protected species! I am not even a practicing taxidermist yet and you would lead me to ruin!”

  “Tell no one, but proceed with your work in secret, the ends will justify the means,” replied the friend who had taken the raptor’s life.

  Now the doctor was in much conflict over what had just transpired. He weighed and considered all things. He would certainly lose his friend if he reported such transgression and the doctor’s own part may not have been one of innocence since he had directed the gathering of specimens. No, the only option he thought, was to take the wretched creature, with neck shot half off, into his secret laboratory that was a packhouse and restore the bird to some resemblance of life. With great trepidation he took the black plastic bag from his friend.

  Dr. Taxinstein toiled endless hours in his secret lab with doors bolted and windows boarded according to the instruction his sacred mail order course provided. The surgery was difficult. The skinning of wing and talon demanded advancement far beyond the simple skill required to shuck the hide from the carcass of a deer or fox and his lighting was poor by design to provide concealment. His tool kit made no provision for plastic form over which to stretch the raptor’s plumage but bid him wrap a shape made of wood shavings until it was fashioned in the likeness of a hawk. Ecstasy in excelsior.

  Somehow the well-kept secret had spread among a chosen few until one late evening there came a rapping at the laboratory door. “Who could know my presence here?” thought the doctor apprehensively, “Should I dare crack the door and glance?” He threw a tobacco sheet over his work to hide the figure of the hawk and proceeded to the door, there he spied two friends who inquired, “Just wanted to see how your hawk was coming.” The doctor reminded them of the secret nature of his work and bid them leave that he would reveal his creation to them in the fullness of time.

  The doctor labored until all was nearly accomplished and the talons of his creature fastened securely to a wooden limb. There still remained the matter of the grotesque neck wound to close. He stitched the wound with his curved needles time and again, but as the stiches grew tighter it pulled the raptor’s neck down at an odd angle past one of prayer perhaps to an angle of curse or damnation. Having finished his work, Dr. Taxinstein stood back to behold his marvel. It was the damned ugliest thing his eyes ever beheld.

  Yet it was pride that whispered in the doctor’s ear and told him such attempt was not bad for a first effort and surely his closest of friends would agree if he would but permit them their promised glance at his finished work. Under the cover of darkness, the doctor removed his creation from the laboratory and set the limb upon which the creature’s talons were fashioned across two rafters in an outbuilding that would be the showplace of his great work.

  He bid his friends quietly come to behold the revelation of his marvel, now complete. He admonished them as he opened the outbuilding door and to remember what they would see was only the first attempt of the great Dr. Taxinstein – that this was the rarest of privileges he was granting only to them and no other. He cracked the outbuilding door open and his friends beheld the creature on the limb that spanned the rafters. The doctor expected their tongues to lift vaulted praise, at least slight encouragement such as “Not bad for your first time at all!” Instead his friends howled with laughter and bent over double trying to hold in their guts while simultaneously beating their thighs. They crowed with laughter and shouted in unison; “That is the ugliest damned thing I ever saw!” Then one added, “I believe I just pissed my damned breeches.”

  In the shadows of the outbuilding as the lifeless eyes of the hawk gazed down upon him, Dr. Taxinstein knew a promising career in taxidermy had ended knowing the eyes of his friends had seen true. Yes, he admits that.

  Ella Louise McLeod was a black woman who cleaned and ironed for our family for many, many years. I remember being a wee little girl when Ella taught me how to tie my shoe laces and also introduced me to Soap Opera’s. I can still see her in my memories, ironing on the ironing board while explaining the Soap Opera’s characters and stories to me. I can sometimes smell the starch that she used while ironing. Ella must be the reason of why I love and continue to watch General Hospital to this day. I, like Ella, also loved all the Soap Opera’s on ABC, especially before they were cancelled. Of the many fond memories of Ella, what I mostly remember is how Ella taught me to respect and be kind to all people and animals. Ella was an amazing woman who was brave and wise and unfortunately, grew up in a dark time of terrible suppression and racism. Ella had many talents but ironing was her superhero skill. Even to this day, she could iron better than any drycleaners around and our clothes were always clean and freshly pressed. After washing the sheets, Ella would hang them out on the clothesline to dry and afterwards, she always ironed them wrinkleless. The freshly ironed, crispy and stiff sheets always felt extraordinarily good on my skin. There was nothing like it. Ella also loved her snuff. She tucked her snuff between her bottom gum and teeth. Ella always had a large wad at the same spot. She preferred Tweetsie Railroad as her brand and had a tin coffeepot to use as a spit can. Ella was an expert spitter and never missed her shot in the spit can. Ella taught me and my little sister Judy how to use snuff in the same manner as she did. Ella would mix us up a batch of snuff made out of sugar and cocoa. We loved it and even spit our special blend into our own spit can. One day when Ella was blending up our batch of snuff, I asked her why were Judy and I different colors from her. Ella stopped stirring up the snuff, bent down and stoically looked directly into my and Judy’s eyes. She gravely whispered, “Children, we is all the same color in the name of the Lord.” She then lifted her back and straightened up, continued stirring up our snuff, handed it to us and told us to go outside and get out of her kitchen. Yes, I admit that.

  My friend Cindy and I had just returned home from a hard day of learning and high stakes social peer pressure at high school. Cindy had ridden home with me so that we could do some homework, but mostly to talk and gossip about our boyfriends and the mean girls of whom we hated from school. Cindy had grabbed her tall stack of books, (this was before bookbags and cellphones) and stood at the bottom of the steps waiting for me in order for us to go inside the house. I was almost around the corner of the car when the backscreen porch door opened up and Ella spit out a big juicy wad of snuff. Ella then closed the door and returned back inside the house. I looked over at Cindy and on her arm was where the large wad of snuff had landed! We laughed hysterically forever before going into the house. When Ella opened the backscreen door to spit out her snuff, she had never seen us and certainly never meant to spit on Cindy. Yes, I admit that.

One warm morning when I was about eight years old, Ella and I were out in the yard. Ella was hanging out the laundry on the clothesline and I was playing with my bike. In the corner of the yard, two neighborhood dogs wandered over. They started doing weird stuff. One dog hopped on the back of the other dog and started humping. In confusion, I looked over at Ella and she started giggling. Suddenly, the dog that was on back of the other dog, fell off and they ended up being butt to butt. Ella stopped hanging the laundry and started watching the dogs also. One of the dogs was screaming in pain and it was unbearable to watch. I started crying and jumping up and down. It scared me to hear how the dog was in so much pain. Frantically, Ella yelled at me and said, “Child, hurry up and go over there and get me the water hose. That boy dog is gonna kill her if we don’t do something. Be sure and turn the water on and hand me the water hose. Hurry up child, run!” I did as instructed and quickly ran over to the house, turned on the water and dragged the water hose to Ella. Ella told me that they were stuck together and we needed to separate them and quickly. She started spraying the dogs down with the water hose. Soon, they separated and ran away. I asked Ella what they were doing and why was the boy dog hurting the girl dog. Ella told me that they were making puppies and to go on about my business and leave her to hers. That was the extent of my learning about the birds and the bees. Yes, I admit that.

  In the fall of 1975, I was crowned Homecoming Queen by representing the Keyettes of my senior year of High School. It was an amazing experience because I never in a million years dreamed or thought that I would win but I did and it was incredibly exciting. After the football game, my boyfriend Michael and friends Cindy and Greg went to Greg’s house for everyone to get together before going back to the school for the Homecoming Dance. While at Greg’s house, his brother, Darrell came home and offered us some weed. We eagerly excepted and smoked joints and bongs before going back to the school. On the way back to the school we all began laughing uncontrollably. We were super stoned and high. Michael and I danced to Philadelphia Freedom by Elton John and then were informed it was our turn to get our picture taken for the year book. We went into the room and sat down in the designated spot and started laughing again. We could not control our laughter to save our lives. The High School teacher and Photographer, Mr. York began to get annoyed and extremely mad at us which made us laugh even more. We could not stop laughing and giggling no matter how hard we tried. Mr. York finally told us that if we did not straighten up then we were going to have to leave the dance. Somehow, we were able to get a picture taken but only because we had to quit looking at each other in order to stop laughing for a minute. Yes, I admit that.

  I went to visit my sister Judy in Georgia which was a seven-hour drive from North Carolina. Several hours into the ride, I noticed my fuel light had lit up therefore, I needed to stop for gas. I saw a sign for gas but didn’t pay attention to the exit number. I veered off onto the exit and stopped at the gas station. I went inside to pay for the gas and decided to also take a bathroom break before pumping the gas. I walked to the back of the store and stood in a long line with five other ladies. After an extended amount of time, one of the line ladies knocked on the door. We were all getting impatient because the lady’s line at a gas station is usually not this long. One of the lady’s got tired of waiting and went into the men’s restroom. Another lady knocked on the door and asked if everything was ok in there. Very soon after, the door opened and a young guy of approximately 25 years old walked out laughing. Just about that time, we were all hit with a blast of stinky shit smell that almost knocked us all out. He started laughing and we women went crazy on him. First his arrogance made us mad but the fact that he thought he was cute and funny for wrapping us all up was more than our tempers could endure. Every one of us yelled at him and told him how disgusting he was and for not using the men’s while no one was even in the men’s bathroom. I was so mad and furious at that guy, that I refused to go into the foul-smelling bathroom that he had just desecrated. Therefore, I walked to my car and drove off. After I had driven down the road a few miles, I realized that I had not gotten gas even though I had paid for it. The only problem that I discovered was that I had no idea what exit ramp I had previously taken. I drove to the first exit ramp and turned around. Thereafter, I drove for several miles and took an off ramp to go back to the gas station. Thankfully, I had chosen the correct ramp and found the gas station. I went inside to tell the guy that I had not gotten my gas that I had paid for. While walking up to the counter, the gas attendant recognized me and said, “Hey lady, you forgot to get your gas. He started laughing and said, “You women sure gave that guy a hard time, but I don’t blame you because he deserved it. He stunk up my whole store.” I refused to use the bathroom in this particular gas station and had to make an extra stop in order to pee, but at least the next place did not smell like dead cow shit. Yes, I admit that.

  This is a story about a girl named Trudy. She would not let me use her real name and she may or may not be my sister. Trudy was going on a trip to Florida with several of her school girl friends. Trudy had recently lost a bunch of weight and couldn’t wait for her friends to see her improved and healthy new self. Trudy also wanted to get a spray tan before going because she has very fair and pale skin, blue eyes and blond hair which makes her vulnerable to the extremities of the harsh sun. She knew they would be out in the Florida sunshine and didn’t want her skin to burn but also wanted upon arrival to have a golden glowy tanned color. Therefore, even though Trudy had never experienced a tanning booth, she excitedly went to one. Trudy explained how the tanning booth was a standup booth with an automated voice that instructed her on what to do and what was going to happen next. She said she stood vulnerably and completely naked while fiercely standing still with her feet planted in the designated marked spot. Trudy was told to hold her arms up as to enhance even spray lines and for her palms to not get colored. The tanning booth sprayed a shot of mist on her front side as she firmly closed her eyes. Trudy had opted out of the goggles. The automated voice then told her to prepare to be spray shot from behind. After her backside was sprayed, Trudy was then told to stand still for an amount of drying time. Beforehand, the tanning booth company had told her to wear loose fitting clothing as for it to not stick to her newly tanned body and also was further instructed to not shower for 48 hours. Of the three choices between light, medium and dark, Trudy chose the medium color. Once she stepped out and looked in the mirror, she told the attendant that she did not see much of a difference in the before or after and wondered if she should have chosen the darker color. The attendant explained to Trudy that over time, the darker tan would show more vividly and she would be pleased with the results. The next morning, Trudy was getting ready for work. She was putting on her 42 Double D bra and in order for Trudy to put on her Double D, she had to cusp her breast and swing them into the bra because they are so damn big! Once she had her boobs all tucked into her bra, she noticed something peculiar. She investigated further while looking in the mirror and said, “What in the hell is that?” Trudy quickly grabbed her glasses and looked closer. She was astounded by what she saw. Her chest and top of her stomach had two long extremely white circles of where her boobs had lain flat on her chest while getting spray tanned. Trudy explained that it looked like two white tube socks laying on her chest and belly! Trudy said that she was so embarrassed by what her big floppy saggy titties had created and dared not tell or show a soul because it looked so crazy. Fortunately, where Trudy had lost weight and looked fabulous with her smaller body, unfortunately, her boobies without wearing a bra, were sagging longer on her body. Trudy thought to herself that she definitely had chosen the right tint and had gotten more tan color than originally first admitted. Trudy said, “The proof of two tube socks was right there on my chest! Yes, she admits that.