So the storm comes in. We have the door open and all is quiet in Mr. Roger's neighborhood except the cool breeze blowing in and the sound of rain. We are both reading in total silence which is awesome! I have my Nook with Pillars of the Earth going to town. D has grabbed a real book from the side table about some mountain living and so forth from about the late 1960's to early 70's publishing time. I am not sure but some of those books may have been there since that house was built.
He starts talking to me about some mountain folks in the book. I stop reading to listen well. He informs me to keep reading he isn't going to go on & on, he just wanted to tell me about x, y, and z. When he has finished I pick back up where I left off. My people are fixing to go into battle for crying out loud, I am right in the middle of Medieval time battle anxiety and chaos.....
D- Babe! You have to look at this guy, he is standing on this piece of wood barefooted and cutting with his ax! LOOK at him.
I look at the mountain man. He is in fact using an ax barefooted with overalls on and no shirt underneath.
D goes into the what feels like an on and off 25 minute discussion about the fellow with no shoes on and his overalls hacking away at the round piece of wood that he believes is a wagon wheel in the making. When he realizes it is actually a water wheel, it freaking rocks his world. Then he goes into another discussion about the amount of work it took to whittle out the vanes and blah, blah, blah....on and on and now this other hillbilly, old fellow, dude has made a bee hive out of an old humongous log and he's telling me how to do this.
I dang HATE bees. This information will never be useful to me in anyway. I have to listen to him though cause he has been so sweet to me all weekend. He tells me about bees, queen bees, worker bees, bee hives, bee swarms, how to mark a tree in the old days so no one else claimed the tree and it wouldn't get cut down by loggers, how to track some bees, boiled bees, fried bees, bees soup, bee gumbo, bee ca-bobs, bee pudding, bees and rice, here a bee, there a bee, everywhere a bee, bee. He informs me he is gonna get some bees and make a bee hive out of a log.
A- Really Babe? My people are fixin to be in the middle of a battle in Earlshire or something or other and the dang stable is on fire.....You know I hate bees, we are never going to own a swarm of bees, freaking EVER.....
...there is a framed newspaper article and picture in the mountain house about this really, really, old woman that was related to his mom from way back when....way, way, way back when....she was a midwife among a lot of other things she did while she was alive. Truly she was an amazing woman. I hadn't read the article in many years.....but, again, then this...
D- Amy you just don't understand how hard these people had it till you think about all this stuff they had to do to get honey and grind corn and .....have you read that article on the wall over there about that woman? I mean sometimes people couldn't even pay her. All they had for payment was a dang squirrel.
A- (laughing, cause I suddenly remembered that part of the article. It never occurred to me as funny at the time. Now I am delirious over barefoot, no shirt wearing under overalls hillbillies who used to be sweet mountain men at the beginning of the conversation who are now keeping me from Medieval battle in my Pillars book.)
D starts laughing a little too cause he understands how funny that sounds now too.
I'm all in my mind..... birthing Skylar or Cole or something and suddenly saying to the doctor...um, I am sorry I forgot my debit card...... but I gotta squirrel. Do you take a squirrels?
If you pull his tail you can run his tongue through he slider. Now Doc... that's the wrong way. Now his testicles are stuck.....yer gonna get a decline runnin him that way......
A- Babe, Shut up! You are killin me. I love you and all but I don't want to hear one more thing about that barefooted man or idiot bees......
D- I am just sayin it's all interesting I bet Dad loves looking at these books.
......all is quiet a few minutes........then,
D- Hey Amy, look here we are at the Biltmore.
I look over my reading glasses at him with that blasted book, for sure I am half cocked.
He shows me this picture.
I have to laugh out loud, cause it does look like me a little. I swear when I get up in the morning, with mis-matched pajamas, my glasses, and some random shoes...maybe they are the same on both feet... maybe they aren't....
D- Look.....it's you ridin my a** like a donkey in the rain taking pictures of flowers.
So dang funny.