MEET COUSIN MERLE

   My cousin Merle the Perle does not live here.  Yet he is a loyal relative and distance never keeps him away from important family gatherings.  His family's presence is warm and welcomed.  Problem is Merle says inappropriate things at the wrong time.  For instance.

   When Grandmaw passed, he walked in and sat with his wife and children in the funeral parlor, like everybody else.  Except he is the only one that asked

   "Whatcha mean y'all don't have any beer?  Lord's sake Grandmaw's done gone and died.  Hell I cain't think of a better reason to be drinkin.  Y'all want me to go and fetch some?  I don't mind.  The drive'll do me good.  I don't like bein round dead people.  Specially when they's related and ya ain't got no beer." 

   Another time we were at my Great Uncle's surprise birthday party.  My Aunts and Uncles were chatting while we kids ate burgers at a nearby picnic table.  Cousin Merle was marveling over my Aunt Rebbecca as she took up weightlifting since he last saw her.

   Aunt Becca starts flexing to show off her newly found muscles and loud as a cow bell we hear " Hot damn Becky!  I like strrrrrong girls.  They can git on top!" 

   Now, today is New Years Day.  Everyone is coming to our house as usual to watch football in the backyard.  Dad brings out the TVs and mom bakes ham and fresh plum rolls with sweet whipped creme.  We cousins run the yard and house exploring our new toys with laughter and touchdown cheering in the backdrop. 

   This year mom is really fretting over Merle and his mouth.  And for good darn  reason after his now infamous statement at the Christmas dinner.  We had fifty one relatives lined down two tables, decorated with flowers and glowing candles.

  Upon finding out that our cousin Margie Lynn has a girlfriend, loud as a cow bell we hear

 "Well now, ain't nothin wrong with that!  Ever-body needs a little pussy ever-once in a while."  

REDNECKS IN CORAL GABLES

 Dean Martin croons as I sweep gold dust across my shoulders and the top of my knees.  From my bedroom window the setting sun melds pink and orange, bringing on tempest evening air.  I thought it would never get here.  

   In the excitement of the impending night, running around naked in sexy man's house, I proceed to do a couple things that bring a not so erotic moment to the luscious night ahead.

   As usual when life affects me I kind of don't eat very much.  Realizing I need food and forgetting that a big huge vitamin can make you nauseated on an empty stomach, I take one.  I eat a granola bar and guzzle them both down with a small glass of red wine.  I'm not a big drinker.  I was thinking of it more like grape juice and granola.  Wrong.

   Jumping in the truck I drive the short distance between our homes.  Striding through the unlocked door scented apple and spice encircles me, just as his handsome face comes from around the corner.  "Hey! Don't you look nice." he says walking over to relieve my arms of bags as he kisses me soft on the lips.  "Thanks" I reply.   And we continue to kiss.   Our mouths intertwine as his tender brown eyes look into mine  After a couple minutes he says "I'm starved" and pulls us towards the kitchen. 

  Fixing him a big helping of chicken and dumplings still warm from my stove at home, in an uneasy instant I realize......I don't feel so good.  Oh no.  I really don't feel so good.  This can't be!  I have never gotten sick at some one's house before.  In my whole entire life.  Not to mention a man.  And of all men.  Oh god.   I'm going to be sick!

   He sits at the table and starts to eat while my stomach rumbles, turning me white as a ghost.  What could be worse??  Only one thing.  Yea, that's right.  And maybe that is coming next.  Oh no.

   He puts down his fork and stares at me.  Surprised, concerned and slightly humored he asks

  "You're gonna be sick?"

   As my stomach swirls in reckless abandon I shudder.  "Yes."

   I don't have time to worry about how this looks..ladylike or not, I am sweating like a whore in church and gonna be sick.  I got two choices.  In the house or out.  This is not good.
    
    "Oh my god I'm gonna be sick." I say again while peeling down my blouse.   If I cool off I'll feel better.  At that I decide, outside it is.  Winter air will help. 

   The inevitable is coming and I run for the front door.  With the night pitched black, I lay my nauseated self down on the nippy grass.   In the next moment I hear Dr.Sexy Man and see him from the side of my eye.  "Oh please, go back inside!"  And he turns on a dime like the gentleman he is.  That was sweet.  Oh my! What he must be thinking. 

  As the vitamin,granola and wine are rushing up I still see the humor.  Great Ivey just great.  This is going to impress him.  Lets see what other sexy move I can pull from my lace thong.

   Having the culprit out of my system, I quickly recover.   He takes me in his arms with his slow, soft touch.  His sexy chiseled shoulder's are strong and determined.  By far, the most handsome man I know.  Dashingly gorgeous, like a youthful James Garner. 

  Mental note to self.  To avoid being labeled a redneck -- When getting sick.  1 Leave shirt on.  2  Stay inside.

INTOXICATING

All I know is muddled, by the sweet sound of his voice. 

MY MOTHERS LOVE

A mother always knows what to say that will wipe the tears away.  A loving presence at any age.  Right? 

   "Mom look at my eyes I have been crying for three days."  She slowly turns in my direction and says "No.  You have bags under your eyes because you are an old lady."

     I guess I should grateful for the lady part.
   Oh well, at least I get to pick my friends.

GOOD WAITING

 I have decided that I really need to tackle this 'patience is a virtue' thing.  It is crucial.  So if I have to learn to wait, she can learn to wait for the ham. 

THE SAGA TAKES A UTURN

With my head down and newly manicured nails clicking across the keypad I chuckle thinking of my niece and her description of me.   A burgeoning writer.  And although I can't pronounce it and had to check the spelling in the dictionary, I know it is appropriately true. 

  The door opens and Chase asks me on the way through the room "Holmes is there a villain?  Because any book worth reading has a good guy and a bad guy.  So who's the bad guy?"  Yet he never waits for the answer.  Looking up as light slices the door and the toilet flushes, he then hurries past, back to the family room TV where 'Dancing with the stars' is in full swing.

   So getting back to my work at hand I decide that even the bad guy deserves one more chance.   My stomach settles some to the music foating down the hall and under my door.  Good grace will take us far.  Right?

   

OUR EASTER BUNNY

Our Easter Bunny is cool.  He gets the whole candy-kid connection.  Our neighbors Bunny hides their baskets.  Sure am glad he doesn't come to our house because that is over the top.  They already hide the eggs.

  Christmas is torture as the suspense of wrapped gifts starts piling up right after Thanksgiving.  Halloween taunts me for weeks as mother brings home giant bags of miniature sweets, that sit unopened in the pantry until the sun sets on Halloween eve.  After trick or treating we have to wait even longer for the candy because it has to be checked that it is safe to eat.

   So I do appreciate our rabbit who obviously has a good head on his shoulders.         

THE WOODPECKER

The woodpecker doesn't see me or doesn't care that I am sitting near him, as he starts jamming his long slim red beak into the bark of the pine tree with strength end speed. 

    Watching at close range it really makes me wonder.  Why do they do that?  Does it itch?  Is he sharpening it?  Is he mad?  Having fun?  Then he starts making a noise I have never heard before.  Hhhhmmmmmm.........Alrighty then.  I don't know what the heck he is doin but I'm backing up my chair.

A SOCIOPATH

Only a sociopath could sleep that soundly and tout himself as a nice guy.  Only a sociopath.

TATTOOS

The summer scene from our dock is plentiful this noon, watching friends and family celebrate the fourth of July .  Neighbors around the four mile lake frock in bright sun and carefree water.  Rays of sunshine twinkle up and down the waves as they roll towards shore, bringing with them a distinctly nostalgic smell.

   Motor oil of distant skiboats tint the coconut sunscreen air floating in the breeze under my nose.  I'm happy to be alive. 

  Everything on my plate looks festive and smells so good.  Mom and Dad sure know how to throw a party. Aunt Edna joins us taking the last spot at our table on the dock.  The teenager's table.  We don't mind though.  She is hilarious and always says something memorable and many times useful.  Lucy told me a long time ago "Ivey Mae we love all of our relatives. Certain ones you don't use as role models and other ones deserve special attention to what they say."

   While diving into our grilled feast with all the trimmings, Dad drives the boat past us dropping off the last skier of the morning.  Mary, the new fiancee of my second cousin emerges from the lake and walks across our view to grab her towel.  Covering a good portion of this young woman's lower back is a brightly colored tattoo.  We all see it.   Auntie glances up then back at her food while my sisters wink and we wait.

   After Mary walks up the hill and disappears into the back of the huge pink house, did anyone speak.  It is Auntie.

   "Well kids I figured out exactly what it is about tattoos that I don't like.  Why in the world would I pay money to have ink permanently embedded in my skin with a needle when the end result looks like something I ought to wash off with hot soap and water." 

BRAINS, SEX AND BOATS

What good is anything if you don't use it?  May as well give it away or sell it.  Life is better all the way around when you are in the saddle, using your head and not on a trailer.