Well, folks. It’s Nana Lou here, reporting for duty. Some of you may have noticed I’ve been MIA lately. The truth of it is I’ve been holed up in a tumble-down shack in the middle of a God-forsaken forest at the plum exact center of nowhere.
Yes, the birds are a-singing, the flowers are a-blooming and the lovers are pairing off to stumble down the aisle into wedded bliss. That means pre-parties and after-parties and all manner of debauchery so the orders for a little backwoods refreshment are comin’ in strong with my grandson Don and his fool-headed cousin Clitus, Comet’s boy, tripping over themselves to oblige. All I can say it’s a good thing Clitus’s brother Ron stayed home waiting for his newly discovered son Reggy to arrive. Land sakes, I don’t know how I could’ve handled all three of ’em.
I will never understand how those three emerged like they did from the loins of our great lineage. They’ve got the brains (of course) but no common sense. It’s the 21st century, for heaven’s sake. Anyone can run down to the Bovine County corner liquor store for half the cost and none of the risk.
But Don and Clitus fancy themselves in 1920’s pinstripes and bowlers so of course I went along to keep an eye on things. And didn’t sleep a wink! I do believe those boys wouldn’t know a condensing coil from Tigger’s tail. I was hobbling every which way just keep them from blowing something up. After that big blow-out a few years back when they were showing off for that hunky Jean-Claude Van Damme, these boys need lookin’ after.
Still, it did remind me of a more adventurous period of my own youth when the excitement of explosive chemistry had not yet been tempered by army discipline. Well, the good news is that everyone made it back alive this year and the only casualties were a few eyebrows and some future taste buds.
Of course the garden was a disaster when I got back, completely over-run with weeds, and the mosquitoes had conveniently bloomed into full blood-sucking harvest. But the boys did finally show some proper respect for their elders and fixed it up quite nicely while I took a well-deserved nap. They even called Gretta, Don’s ex-wife, over to make up a fine dinner and let the grand kids, Bella & Bonnie, fuss happily over their great great grandma. So all-in-all it was a rather fine adventure but kept me off-base for several days. I might have to stay home next year. I don’t suppose I’ll be quite as spry at 100. Nana Lou, signing off.
- Background image remixed from Flickr photo “Lost Sea Moonshine Still” by Brent Moore
- Special acknowledgement to Nana Lou’s ghost writer, Amber Lockridge, for this inspiring post.