Well, I been ponderin on what I should write next on this here blog about my and Louise's exploits. And I been drinkin. I'll fess ta that, I reckon. But, ain't no way no how not ta if'n I'ma gonna cast back over my near sixty years on this here beautiful green earth and reflect on who I am and why I done the things I been busy doin.

Mama Hazel, bless her, cain't talk bad about her, since she's sittin right here, done woke up from her evenin nap and a jawin at me for some cantalope for her evening snack, ta go with her peach wine she done brought up from the cellar. Listen here, darlins, if'n Mama H goesta offerin ta some of her "wine" ya oughta be runnin the other damn direction. It's peach preserves she done canned some twenty years ago and done forgot about and it's all cured like and become "wine." Sure it has. Mama Hazel don't throw shit away and she'll make ya drink it right up calling it wine. Uh-huh. It's a right serious mash, I'll give ya that but it's way too chunky ta pass as wine. Add a little wild turkey to it, she says and grabs my face with her poor arthritis-eaten hand and says, I want my damn cantalope now, Thelma. Alrighty then, fine by me. Ya'll hang the hale on.

Good godamighty, that Mama Hazel smacked me with the remote when I brought the cantalope cuz I didn't bring glasses to go with the peach wine. Jus pour it over the cantalope. It ain't gonna run much, Mama, is what I say ta her. Louise saw her bring the peach wine up and ran the hale to her little trailer. Ain't gonna see her again until I give her the all clear.


Fine, then, is what I say ta that. Leave me with my mama who's hale bent on makin me "drink" this shit with her. Dozen more jars even, she says, down there awaitin. They can wait some more is what the hale I say.

Alright, I done lost me my train of thought on what I was gonna tell ya folks. Thank godamighty I wrote the damn title first. Keep a gal centered, won't it? Obviously not, I ken.

Thelma's a dumbass hunter. For sure. Started young. Had to with Mama H and dear daddy, the wanderin man. Yup. I was home alone alot, and when I wasn't hone alone, I was wanderin, too. Mostly with my daddy in them backwoods, but we'd hit the nearby towns. They ain't big, no sir, weren't then, and ain't now. Daddy'd point the dumbasses out ta me when he saw em. Told me not ta put up with any shit, he did, and then showed me how to recognize it.

It's how Thelma only married once. Now he was a dumbass. I admit it. Damn mistake, it was, when I was mighty young and caught in the fever for the Lordamighty. He was the preacher's son, that one I later on caught Louise ashaggin. Well, the preacher man was a major dumbass, one that I just missed, I admit. Daddy forgot to cover how some preachers and specially some preacherman's sons could be right dumbasses. Threw the son to the curb some ten years before I met Louise in all her glory and the first thong I ever did see. Mama Hazel insisted we keep going ta the preacher man's church, though, cuz she liked the speakin in tongues and stuff they was constantly engaged in. It weren't never boring, for sure. Every now and then, Mama Hazel would give me a wink and be up outa her seat in the pew just agoin on and on and on in nonsense syllables, raisin her hands right on up ta the heavens and shakin her ass to the beat of them syllables. It were a sight ta see. She made sure ta do it sporadically, so they couldn't never accuse her of falsifiyin that shit and she never admitted as much ta me, but I saw that wink every damn time.

Is what I'm sayin. Tween Mama H and dear daddy, that preacher man and his boy, I done had me some interestin times. And then Louise came inta my life and took it up a notch. Ain't been disappointed in her yet. She's a puredee delight ta have as my bestest friend.

So, there ya go, reasons to throw the shit outa the root cellar two seasons after ya done made it, ya hear? As soon as Mama H is snorin again, I'm gettin Louise and we are clearin that cellar out. I'm serious as hale on this one. First it was that blackberry shit that had one hale of bite to it and a kick ya ain't seen the likes of and now this peach preserves that's magically wine now.

Oh, and why I'm a dumbass hunter. What else am I gonna do? Done got a fair amount of the crazy here already covered and accounted for. I ain't told ya about my cousins yet. Just ya wait. I got hundred of em spread out over this area. Ya ain't heard nothin yet. Half of them are dumbasses and the other half's just plain dumb.