Esther Chilton

This week’s guest writer is someone you may know. I’m delighted to feature Linda Bethea whose blog is nutsrok. Her guest post is so entertaining and she makes her relatives come bursting to life:

Southern Fried Crazy

We do love our crazy folks down South.  Oh, we may not want them right up in the house with us, not that it doesn’t happen from time to time, but certainly we need them to brighten up our holidays and remind us of how dull life would be without them.

My perennially pregnant Cousin Carol waddled into the family reunion this year with her nine kids and current live-in. He’d look like Willie Nelson if she cleaned him up a little. Excepting her penchant for living in sin, Cousin Carol is fanatically religious, devoting herself to the food kitchens, fellowship nights serving evening meals, and community closets of all the local churches, though not their morning services.  “It’s hard to git nine young’uns dressed that early.” Some nosey relative asked her how many more kids she was going to have and she answered, “As many as God gives me.” I think the boyfriends had more to do giving her those babies than God did!  You can bet your sweet fanny she won’t have any more if she had to pay for them. At the conclusion of the reunion, she loaded up as much food as she could manage in her decrepit station wagon, reasoning if she didn’t, “it would just go to waste.”

For those of you who haven’t been to a family gathering in the South, this is every cook’s turn to shine.  They bring their most celestial dishes. If Aunt Sue chases you down with her fresh coconut cake, you’re going to try it or else! Don’t bother pleading allergies. Aunt Bonnie makes the best fried chicken.  You have to have some of Uncle Joe’s barbecue, but watch out for Cousin Mattie Mae’s Three-Bean-Salad with the wigglies. You don’t have to take any of that. She has Alzheimer’s and won’t know the difference.  It may very well be the same batch she brought last year.

Early photo of Linda’s mother’s family about 1930

Uncle Chester couldn’t make it this year.  He got sent back up for counterfeiting, but he did set the boys up in bootlegging before he got caught.  They’re doing real good.  Aunt Jennie is really proud of them.  Her girl Joyce is teaching at the high school and just married the Baptist preacher.  Aunt Jennie is so tickled all her kids are making a good living and doing well.

I never get tired of bragging about my tightwad Cousin Kat who set up her tombstone in her bedroom because she “didn’t want to spend all that money and then not get any enjoyment out of it.”  There was my cousin Evil Larry, who ran around with his pants unzipped “all the better to pee on us” when he could catch us.  I never did learn to like him, though.  I adored my cousin Sue, but she was a compulsive liar from the time she could talk; delightful, non-malicious creations that kept me guessing.  She was great fun, but would have climbed on top of the house to tell a tale when she could have stood on the ground and told the truth.

I don’t think I could pick a favorite.  I love them all, even the ones I hid from.  They gave me wonderful stories, ensuring that my rich life never has a boring moment.  All I have to do is think back and recall.

The photo above features Mother’s aunt in the back row. Her hair never grayed. Next to her is her orphaned niece, Katie Katie’s son. She raised Katie from birth. Katie was widowed when Baby Johnny was only eight weeks old, so he never knew another home. Mother’s brother stood behind Johnny next to their sister, Ann. The small blonde child in the front row is Mother. She was too shy to have her picture made until she was convinced to let the doll be photographed.

Most important of all was the cat, Old Greenie  She was 26 years old and had just given birth to her last litter of kittens.  Not long after this picture was made Old Greenie ate her kittens, starting at the feet.  My Grandpa was horrified and knocked her in the head.  See, my family even had crazy animals.

Linda’s bio:

I grew up on a farm in rural Louisiana.  I hung on the stories I hung on the stories I heard from parents, grandparents, and relatives around the family dinner table or the fireplace.  Realizing I could read was a thrill.  I still remember the boundless joy of my first visit to a library, understanding the world was opening up to me.  I spent thirty years working as a registered nurse and raising my family before devoting myself to writing and building my own stories.  Today, I live with my husband of fifty-four years and two dogs, writing daily.

I have written two books available on Amazon.

Everything Smells Just Like Poke Salad is a memoir of my mother, Kathleen Swain’s early years.  She illustrated it when she was past eighty.

Just Women Getting By is a collection of stories about strong women.  I have known so many in my life.

If you’d like to be included in my guest writer slot, please get in touch: estherchilton@gmail.com. Poems can be up to 60 lines and prose 2000 words. If you’d like to add a short bio and photo, then great.