The Barbecue Sandwiches Have Been Served...

Well, I've made it almost to 2:30 PM and I am still up. I also just had a whirlwind of a visit from Charlie. He made me a homemade gallon of sweet tea for which I am enjoying at this moment.  He even brought me a big bag of ice from the Circle K down the street. The two barbecue sandwiches were almost more than I could ask for as well. Janice used my father's special recipe barbecue sauce. Don''t come chasing after me with all those sickly sweet barbecue sauces. We like it vinegary and tangy sauces in this corner of the South.

Good to the Last Drop...Or So the Label Says...

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In my mind's eye, I can picture my grandmother, Sally Lou, sitting at her kitchen table drinking her usual pot of morning coffee. She would then fix me some cheese eggs and bacon once I had woken up some. I never forget her homemade biscuits as well. My grandmother could prepare some biscuits and they were ready to come out of the oven in 10 minutes. She made it look so very easy! I can make a big mess trying to fix homemade biscuits these days.

Vestiges of the Old South...

El would stop by to eat breakfast as well. El was a tall gangling elderly man who always smelled very strongly of underarm odor. He called me baby as well. You could hear him walking up to the house with his wooden cane tapping on the driveway. The whole town had built him a small house and helped see about him. My grandmother's duty just was to give him a good start to his day. El couldn't sit at the kitchen table with us, though. He would sit on a stool in front of a corner kitchen counter. He also had his own mason jar to drink tea from and would also have his own plate and tableware. These would be washed thoroughly and put in their special place in the kitchen cabinet ready for El's next breakfast.

Morning Beckons...

I woke up this morning to the smell of coffee wafting in my bedroom from the kitchen. It reminded me of all the breakfasts my grandmother had served me over the years. I had set the timer on the coffee pot for 8:30 AM. My only lament it that coffee doesn't taste nearly as good as it smells. I load up my coffee with a dairy hazelnut coffee creamer to make it more palatable. My breakfast was toasted raisin bread smeared with peanut butter.

My Father Could Befriend a Fence Post...

A student from Point University based downtown broke down in front of mom and dad's house tonight. He blew out two tires at once on his truck making me suspect he hit the high curb right in front of my parent's abode. My mother has had a few run-ins with that curb herself over the years. Many tires have died a sudden death due to my mother's indirection and lack of positional awareness.

My father took the student, a young fellow, under his wing until the student's father arrived from Macon, Georgia to help fix the tires. Dad even drove him to see the river house and then they went and got a hamburger plate at Roger's barbecue.

"Dad could befriend a fence post," I told my mother over the phone as I grinned to myself. "That is  just not something I got from my father genetically."

Mom was agitated as it got all our routines out of kilter. She said she already had her pajamas on when the young man knocked on the door.

"Your daddy has still got to do our grocery shopping as well tonight," she complained with a huff.

All of this didn't paint my mother in a pleasant light. Oh well, fish gotta swim and birds gotta fly.