[gardeners] DeDe catches up....a little

Catharine Vinson (gardeners@globalgarden.com)
Sun, 31 May 1998 14:32:17 +0000

Dear Cousins Beulah Mae, Bambi and anybody else who may be kinfolk
(including that Lawndale woman and Sleepy Dawg's folks),

Here it is the end of the month and I still ain't got enough beans to put
on the table for supper tonight. I was counting on having the first of the
fresh snaps from Chatty Cathy's garden, but them rabbits got to 'em first,
so I guess I'll just have to praise the Lord and pass the collection plate
at Sunday meeting tonight and hope that the DQ will take my marker. I'm
hoping they will now that Jimbo and Edna have quit passing that funny money
every time they got a hankering for a Blizzard (Edna was partial to the one
with them Heath bars; Jimbo never got beyond a Snicker.)

But you ain't aiming on listening to me go on about my troubles, so I'll
get right to the exciting parts.

That new feller who moved in down the lane from Edna, Jimbo, and me has
really done a lot to make folks sit up and take notice of our little
neighborhood. We is coming up in the world; that's for certain. Seems this
feller (name of Sam) ain't what he told me he was when I took him over some
pie and cider to welcome him to the neighborhood (Beulah, don't you go
thinking that the only reason I did it was to check out his furniture and
things, neither. You know I'd never notice that everything matched and
there weren't no plastic covers on the lampshades.).

Anyway, Sam said he was in radio. I figured he was a DJ or something on
account of the fact that he looked real nice what with his big white teeth
(looked all to be his own, too), and his real nice outfit. I know you got
look real good to be on the radio, after all.

Well, all the while I was a thinking that we had us a celebrity in the
neighborhood, it turns out that the last thing ole Sam wanted was to be
noticed. Other day one of them unmarked Fords pulled up in front of Sam's
place and four big fellers wearing real smart looking jackets (it was 90
degrees) and chewing enough Wrigley's to choke a hog got out and went
around to all the doors of Sam's place. Well, I knew what it meant.. after 
all, there was all the ruckus when them Federal folks came to take away 
Edna and Jimbo's press in the attic. (I am still looking for where Edna 
and Jimbo hid the apples and the cider, but so far I ain't had no luck).

So, knowing what was coming, I got myself down to the cellar and kept
myself busy in the crawl space until them fellers left. 

Chatty Cathy ain't got enough sense to get out of the way, (ain't got
enough sense not to sit on the bare ground neither) so she saw what
happened and told me.

Seems that Sam was one of them "safe" fugitives you might have heard about.
You know, the ones they don't put in jail cause they got nice shined
loafers and get their hair cut afore they stand up before the Judge. Since
Sam was such a fine citizen ('cept for the matter that he has this habit of
stalking young girl children like they was does in hunting season and then
beating up on 'em when they catch sight of him), the Judge decided that Sam
shouldn't have to spend the night in the pokey (maybe he figured that Sam's
loafers would get scuffed and them Sam's lawyer would raise a ruckus and
that would make the Court have to do more paperwork). So the Judge told Sam
that he was under what they call House Arrest and that the Court was gonna
help Sam pass the time by getting him involved with radio. All Sam had to
do was stay at home and wear a little ole radio thingie for six months and
then everything would be square 'cause the Court would know that Sam was
real sorry and wouldn't be bothering nobody nomore.

Ain't it funny how folks don't always know a good deal when they see one?

Sam sure didn't. Seems he didn't want to be in radio and so he had
skedaddled. Packed up his stuff and got rid of his radio and moved down the
way from me. Since Jimbo ain't been around of late, I figure Sam must have
thought nobody give him another thought and that he could start his hunting
all over again. 

But Sam didn't figure on Miz Gloria. Fine woman she is Gloria. Just as soon
as I get back from passing the collecting plate, weeding the 'tater patch,
replanting the corn that the crows pulled up, and seeing if I can find me a
coyote in need of relieving itself in my garden (them rabbits don't like
that scent for certain!), I'll tell you how Gloria figured out that Sam
just didn't belong in our little neck of the woods.

You take care and tell Jimbo to wash behind his ears, you hear.