Anuther'n fer Bawanna--If I hadn't seen it

[Bookie]

Now, some things change an’ then at th' same time, they seem ta never change. We were ploughin’ with mules back then. We had two, but Midge was gittin’ right up there in years an’ arthritis was playin’ havoc with'er joints. So Dad, he was castin’ around fer another one. Midge was a jewel. She was good with kids. She didn’t balk or act contrary. In fact she loved bein’ the lead mule of the team an’ all our livestock in general. Ma loved’er. Take apples out to her in season an’ treat’er like she was family. Midge’d lay her muzzle cross Ma’s shoulder an’ kinda rub’er back an’ forth like she was a caressin’er. Ma's head'ud shake an'er hair'ud git messed up, but Ma didn't care. They was close.

Pa had slipped on down ‘round Union City, Tennessee to attend a mule sale they was holdin’. Got back home on Tuesday night an’ said he’d bought a little 4 year old jenny that was plough broke. Said Winston Crabtree’ud bring’er by come Saturday mornin’. Winston was an ol’ friend of the ol’ man’s. They’d both fought in the U.S. Army, but in Russia fer them White Russians. We lost, you know, back about 1919’er so. Still got unburied soldiers over there.

Were that Friday an’ we’d done finished our dinner. Me an’ the ol’ man were headed out ta finish the Last 60 acres and Miz Talman’s little truck garden plot. Ma’d headed out ta give Midge a treat of bread crusts when we heard’er cry out. We come a runnin’ an’ saw that Midge was a-layin’ on’er side at the fence. Ma was bendin’ over’er an’ pattin’er head. Midge, she moved a bit an’ then lay still. We walked Ma inta the house an’ sit with’er fer a while. It was a sad time, yes, indeedy.
We hitched up ol’ Roscoe an’ wrapped a chain around Midge an’ drug’er down the hill an’ buried’er under her favrit hickory tree. Didn’t do no more ploughin’ that afternoon. Roscoe wasn’t strong enough ta pull that McCormick plough we had. ‘Sides, Winston’ud be here tomorry mornin’.

It was one of them long nights you hear about ever once in a while. Ma was still cryin’ and feelin’ like she lost one of us kids. Winston drove in an’ unloaded th’ little jenny ‘bout seven, an’ me an’ th’ ol’ man hitched’er up with Roscoe right away. We was behind an’ had ta git our work caught up. He drove the team to the bottom an’ I went fer th’ house ta git a couple of quart jars for drinkin’ water. Talked to Ma fer a bit an’ headed fer th’ pump. Had just got th’ lids screwed down on them jars when I looked up. Pa was already in th’ field an’ workin’ th’ two mule hitch. My breath stopped. My heart, well it musta stood still. I was seein’ it. My mouth was hangin’ open. Had ta be. I called fer Ma ta come runnin’. That snapped Ma outta’er misery and she moved right quick like. She looked ta where I was a pointin’ an’ she just dropped to’er knees, pulled that apron a-hers up over’er face an’ started cryin’. Dropped th’ apron down an’ stood up an' started wavin’. She was a-smilin’, too. Th’ ol’ man had’is back to’er an’ couldn’t see’er wavin’. We headed tawards Pa an’ had got ta th’ bob-war fence when Ma stopped dead in’er tracks.

We both was watchin’ th’ ol’ man an’is hitch an’ they was bein’ lead by Midge! They got ta th’ end of the row an’ had turned around ta head back this way when Midge looked up an’ spied Ma. Midge headed our way. Ma crossed over th’ fence an’ started fer Midge. Now Pa, he seed Ma an’ was wonderin’ what she was doin’ down there. Ma had stopped an’ Midge was almost ta Ma when she just faded real slow like outta sight. Ma just stood there fer th’ longest time with ‘er head down. It'd bobble an' move ever little bit. I was still in some kinda shock from seein’ what I did. Then Ma raised’er head, turned an’ smiled at me. Pa come up then an’ asked what was wrong.

Ma, she tole’im that we’d seed Midge; and Pa, well he didn’t laugh, but you could tell he was just bein’ polite ta Ma. Ma cocked one eye brow an’ tole’im if he wasn’t keerful, he wasn’t gittin’ no supper. That got a response outta’im an' Ma she just tole’im ta shut up! Grabbed’is hand an’ walked’im over ta th’ last furra an’ pointed ta th’ ground. Pa, he looked ta me an’ shook’is head. Ma went back t’ the house.

My ol’ man just stood there a-while, looked up an’ said “They’s three sets a-mule tracks, boy.” An' I just nodded my head. You know, some things change an’ well, then some things never seem ta change.

 

[Bawanna]

Out done yourself once again Bookie. Good story.

 

[Scara]

Is it mule story time again? I've got a pretty good one. So when I was living in Brasil I was invited to a New Years dinner. The son of the head of the house was a friend, and during dinner I was at a table with the head of the house. While we were talking, a commercial for the big new years show came on the TV, and one of the bands featured was one of those tight-pants pastel-color bands, and I made a play on words from "The Show of the Turning" into "The Show of the Homosexual", the words are only two letters apart. He looks at me and loudly asks "Oh, do you know the difference between a donkey and a mule?" I knew he had somewhere he wanted to go with it, so I tell him I don't. He tells me "Get underneath them and you'll see!" And he's laughing his head off. I calmly turn to his sister and her husband and I say to them, "I think he's speaking from personal experience". The two of them burst into laughter, and he is left trying to say something, mouth wide open, but at a complete loss for words.

I don't think I've posted that story before. But I still chuckle over it five years later.

 

[Bookie]

That is funny, Scara. Only happen in real life!