Re: [gardeners] DeDe replies to Preacher

Margaret Lauterbach (
Sat, 04 Jul 1998 15:41:28 -0600

At 05:12 PM 7/4/98 +0000, you wrote:
>Dear Preacher,
>I'd been thinking about you and then what do you know.? The mail lady (a
>regular demon when it comes to speeding down the highway and missing all
>the potholes) dropped off a note from you along with a personal invite to
>the opening of the gun sighting clinic at the Wal-Mart next weekend. Ain't
>it funny how the good Lord works; all a body's got to do is ask and he
>shall receive. Makes you think twice before you ask after some folks, don't
>it now!
>Anyway, I was a thinking about you while I was watching the feller next
>door packing up his things and moving out in the middle of the night. You
>might remember me talking to Beulah about him. The boy that had taken to
>wearing that funny looking bracelet around his ankle. A real homebody he
>was, but I don't think the neighbors were in a real big hurry to send the
>welcome wagon  'round to greet a fellow with a bracelet on his foot. They
>don't got any problem with a feller wearing an ID bracelet on his wrist,
>but they got their suspicions about anybody who wears one around his
>ankles. Kinda funny when you think about it. Lots of them gals that work at
>the DQ and that place that has dances in the morning time wear them little
>ankle chains. I guess it's just not the same if you don't shave your legs.
>That must be the difference.
>Anyway, the reason I was thinking about you while I was watching the
>neighbor boy load up his truck was something my old Daddy used to say. He'd
>say, "DeDe, you behave yourself*all* the time. 'Cause you know that if
>Preacher can't keep you on the straight and narrow, then the neighbors can.
>And you know how the neighbors can be." Lord, don't I know! But, that's not
>a fit tale for a holiday, so I'll just leave it on the table.
>Anyway, I was telling Beulah about Chatty's 'tater salad. Guess you'll be
>wanting to know the story, too. Well, I think I ate me too many of them
>Cherried Herrings. I'm still feeling a little poorly, so I think I'll go
>and see of I can scare up That Lawndale Woman or Cousin Bambi(e) and get
>them to help me through the evening.
>Pray for us Preacher, 'cause you know we be needing it,
Don't think I ever ate them cherried herrings.  How do they go with (skoal)
Acquavit?  Now skoal is what folks say, not what they put between cheek and
gums (that's pronounced guuums).  I'm mighty curious about what DeDe did to
her taters.  Guess she found out when she "graveled" 'em.  Big Bob says
that's what Texians say they're doing when they're stealin' taters from the
mother plant.  Just want to be PC.  Never can tell when they'll be around
to put one of them foot bracelets on me, cause I ain't a saint.  Is Pat?
She would be if she'd a stayed where she was born.  Now she's got to work
at it.  

Hey, are those cherried herrings the things you drag across't a path so's
the dog can't find out where you went?  Did you lend one of them things to
your next door neighbor?  You know he didn't deserve no help.  

Is Quivvie as anti firecracker as Sparty is?  Sparty leaned his impression
into the sliding glass door this morning before I came to his rescue.
Speaking of rescues, the Vinson ladies have certainly brightened my
holiday.  Now it's time for Rob Roy, working up to Keith Lockhart and the
Boston Pops.  That's my favorite July 4 activity, my bottom firmly planted
in an easy chair.  I know, all chairs are easy.

My holiday consisted of pulling and hoeing weeds and being amused at Cousin
DeDe and her wonderful relative, and at that newspaper article about the
Hair Ball.  I think that deserves a spot on the bulletin board, at least.
Have a happy holiday, Margaret