Conquering Corwin end Mother’s Bad Attitude Part 2

image . . Aunt Essie got her nose out of joint when her little guys came home bringing tales of how badly Uncle Bill had treated them, so he didn’t hear

was Qan affable enough guy. Q, though he must not have taken time to meet the boys before they married. He’d also married before and “wadn’ payin’ no child support. to that Q. Qwoman after the . w. ay she done me. Besides oldest ‘un never did look , that little https://. . / 2016/12/15/. / neither, if you git down to it.”

The long and short of it was, they needed to get the heck out of Dodge or her sweetie would have gone to jail. Like any landed gentleman of the South, Daddy had always maintained he’d a place for any of his sisters who fell on hard times. Desperately in need of a home, She magnanimously forgave. Daddy. Over Mother’s furious objections, he set up a mobile home on their farm for Aunt Essie and her family. The situation went downhill fast. Aunt Essie wore her slippers to check the mail and slid down. She asked Daddy for the name of a good lawyer so she could sue. He told her she’d have to move if she sued him, so she changed her mind. Her Bill had a heart attack within a month of the time they moved there. He never worked another day, leaving them penniless until his social security kicked in. Guess who supported them.  The good news was, he’d gotten an increase to his check when he and Aunt Essie got married, since he could lead claim her boys.  The bad news was, he had better things to spend it on than groceries and rent.

All that aside, they had the added joy of daily life with Corwin. Corwin quickly dropped out of school, a reasonable decision, since the only thing he was getting out of it was a bus ride and two free meals a day. When he got suspended for harassing little girls, it was a relief to everyone in the system. Bill and Aunt Essie went somewhere in Aunt Essie’s car one day. Wisely, Bill took his keys, knowing Corwin would certainly take off in his truck the minute he left. One of Daddy’s horses had died three or four days before. As farmers do, instead of burying it, he hitched the dead horse to his tractor and dragged it as far to the back of his place as he could, leaving it to the varmints. Corwin had been puzzling over whether or not the varmints had gotten to the horse carcass yet. Corwin showed some industry in hot-wiring the pick-up, but not in driving in the muddy fields. He got stuck and had to leave the truck buried up to the hubs next to the bloated horse. Bill was livid when he came in and found his truck missing. “Where in the Hell is my G—D—- Truck?”

“Stuck in the mud on the back of Uncle Bill’s place.”

“What in the Hell is it doing back there?”

“I drove it back there to see if see if that dead horse was stinkin’ yet.”

“Well, what in the Hell were you gonna’ do about it if it was?”

Aunt Essie had an infuriating little ankle-biting dog named Susie she kept in the house with her.  It yapped incessantly and snarled at anyone who got near Aunt Essie.  Mother and Daddy had never had a dog in the house, so Mother complained about Aunt Essie’s dog. “Let it go,” Daddy insisted.

The next weekend, Bill and Essie went out of town.  Aunt Essie wanted Mother to keep Susie, but Mother declined, not wanting a dog in her house.  It worked out fine.  Unbeknownst to Mother and Daddy, Aunt Essie left Susie alone.  Susie did a lot of house peeing, pooping, and wall-scratching scratching over the next four or five days locked up in the trailer.  Apparently the abandonment upset the poor dog’s digestion. The place smelled like a charnel house by the time they got back.

Not too long after this, Corwin and Kelvin were found to be growing a lucrative crop of marijuana on Daddy’s place.  Mother was infuriated and reported them.  They were arrested.  Aunt Essie got her nose out of joint about the arrest and moved off in a huff.    It’s a shame when families can’t get along.

BUY my book: https://www.amazon.com/Everything-Smells-Just-Like-Salad-ebook/dp/B01IVUXROQ

How to connect with Linda

Blog: https://nutsrok.wordpress.com/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/bethea_linda

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A Spoonful of Sugar

goat poopI think I’ve mentioned my cousin Corwin was interesting. He was still hauling his bottle around when he started school. His teacher made him leave it at home, so first thing after getting off the bus, he’d get his bottle out of the cabinet, fill it up, and enjoy it along with his after school snack. A hearty eater, he’d grab up a handful of Gravytrain Chunks out of the dog’s bowl as he headed out to play football with his big brothers. As a crawling baby, Corwin had started shoving the puppy out of his bowl and just kind of got hooked on Gravytrain. It added a interest to the game to see Corwin playing football with his baby bottle sticking out of his back pocket. One of his brothers or cousins invariably snatched his bottle and ran, passing it on to whichever kid was new to the game. The chase was on. Corwin carried a grudge to the bitter end and picked up a stick or rock and bash the bottle thief’s head in long after the game of “Keepaway” concluded. His older brothers felt this bit of info was on a “need to know” basis, so new kids had to find out the hard way.

When he was about five or six, Corwin decided it was funny to pee the space heater. He’d fall all over himself to beat his mama in the front door, drop his pants, and spray the open flame with a stinking deluge that spattered, steamed, and spewed up the whole house. As he sprayed from side to side, kids would be scattering to avoid the stream. Should he have any ammo left, bystanders got it. His mother made a token protest, followed by, “I don’t know what makes that boy act like that.” Daddy told my aunt he’d hooked an electric shock to the heater, so Corwin would be electrocuted. She believed Daddy, so made Corwin give it up. I was sorry it wasn’t true.

Corwin was horrible. We all hated him. To make a long story short, Corwin was so darned mean, nobody would have stuck up for him. About that time, Daddy brought in some goats. At any rate, when Corwin saw goat pills littering the yard, he thought, they were chocolate M&Ms and gobbled quite a few before he noticed the taste was off. My brother and I made sure he had all he wanted. Seemed like justice.

Corwin and the Hog Dog

image imageAunt Essie, like all of my aunts, was a wonder of fertility, if not child-rearing acumen, raising seven of the meanest boys outside Alcatraz. Thank God, her reproductive equipment gave out before she managed more. I thought Mother exaggerated when she said they’d all end up in jail or dead before they were thirty. She was wrong. Only four of the seven did jail time, and of these, one died in a bar fight after he was released at the age of twenty-eight. Most of rest passed their time boozing it up at Aunt Essie’s house when they weren’t begetting children or needed in jail. Contrary to Mother’s unjust prediction, all but one made it past thirty and one never went to jail.  The meanest of the lot turned out to be pretty boring. He opened a very successful auto body shop and became a deacon.  I hope Mother learned her lesson about being judgmental.

When Aunt Essie’s boys weren’t trying to kill us, they could be entertaining. Uncle July was an avid hog-hunter and was extremely proud of his Catahoula Cur Hog Dog, Catch. Out on the hunt, Catch would le go berserk with hog lust and “catch” wild hogs by the ear, hanging on until commanded to turn loose; not a nice dog. Uncle July kept him penned up, sternly warning us away from the fence. Catch might rage through the fence, “catching” us by the ear.

Aunt Essie and Uncle July heard “catch” noises from the dog pen and were horrified to realize one of their angelic three-year-old twins was missing. They rushed out and found Corwin and the monster dog rolling around in the dog pen. Expecting to retrieve the bloody corpse of his precious child, Uncle July leapt into to the pen to find Corwin latched down on Catch’s ear, blood pouring from the tattered edges. When asked why he bit the dog, Kelvin replied, “Dog bite me.” Corwin was fine except for a few drag marks.

Considering his tender age, it seemed premature to categorize Corwin, but he showed all the hallmarks of a psychopath. Energized and empowered by his encounter with “Catch”, his strange little mind focused on the unfortunate beast, making his life a living hell. Despite his concerned parents’ warning, he was soon back in the dog pen and had Catch cowering in a barrel half-buried in the dirt that passed for a dog house, howling piteously for rescue. Realizing he was no threat to Corwin, Aunt Essie and Uncle July abandoned poor Catch to his misery, knowing Corwin was off their backs as long as poor Catch was crying. Catch wet himself and ran under the truck next time Uncle July tried to take him out hog hunting, his spirit broken. Uncle July swapped him off to an unsuspecting buddy for a pirogue the first chance he got.

Surviving five horrible older brothers made Corwin and his twin Kelvin dangerous little devils. Their parents doted on all the boys, seemingly unconcerned about their reputations as hellions. When people complained about their bullying, their stock reply was, “What did your Johnny do to them?” artfully ignoring the obvious fact that the damaged kid was three years younger. Aunt Essie grieved because the twins would be her last babies, so she let them carry their baby bottles till the school put a stop to it. It was bizarre to see them coming in from playing football with their brothers, pull their bottles out of their back pockets, and fill them for themselves. They were fluent in profanity from the time they could talk.

As an adult, between stints in jail, Corwin lived in the dugout of the local ballpark. He’d worn out his welcome with Aunt Essie and his tippling brothers after attempting to burn her house down over their heads. He was forcibly extricated by the more sober among them, but did live to the ripe old age of forty-one. After the immediate threat of roasting in her bed passed, Aunt frequently mentioned letting him move back in, feeling he’d learned his lesson in jail, but her other boys had a longer memory and wouldn’t allow him back in.

Corwin spent the rest of his life residing between the ballpark, jail, and homeless shelters, except for brief stints with friends when he was flush with cash from his drug sales job.

image                    BUY my book: https://www.amazon.com/Everything-Smells-Just-Like-Salad-ebook/dp/B01IVUXROQ

How to connect with Linda

Blog: https://nutsrok.wordpress.com/

 

Conquering Corwin and Mother’s Bad Attitude Part 2

imageAunt Essie got her nose out of joint when her little guys came home bringing tales of how badly Uncle Bill had treated them, so he didn’t hear from her till she fell on hard times a couple of years later. She had married her own fella named Bill by that time, strangely enough. This Bill was an affable enough guy, though he must not have taken time to meet the boys before they married. He’d also been married before and “wadn’ payin’ no child support to that whore of a woman after the way she done me. Besides that oldest ‘un never did look antyhing like me, ner that little one neither, if you git right down to it.”

The long and short of it was, they needed to get the heck out of Dodge or her sweetie would have gone to jail. Like any landed gentleman of the South, Daddy had always maintained he’d provide a place for any of his sisters who fell on hard times. Desperately in need of a home, She magnanimously forgave Daddy. Over Mother’s furious objections, he set up a mobile home on their farm for Aunt Essie and her family. The situation went downhill fast. Aunt Essie wore her slippers to check the mail and slid down. She asked Daddy for the name of a good lawyer so she could sue. He told her she’d have to move if she sued him, so she changed her mind. Her Bill had a heart attack within a month of the time they moved there. He never worked another day, leaving them penniless until his social security kicked in. Guess who supported them.  The good news was, he’d gotten an increase to his check when he and Aunt Essie got married, since he could lead claim her boys.  The bad news was, he had better things to spend it on than groceries and rent.

All that aside, they had the added joy of daily life with Corwin. Corwin quickly dropped out of school, a reasonable decision, since the only thing he was getting out of it was a bus ride and two free meals a day. When he got suspended for harassing little girls, it was a relief to everyone in the system. Bill and Aunt Essie went somewhere in Aunt Essie’s car one day. Wisely, Bill took his keys, knowing Corwin would certainly take off in his truck the minute he left. One of Daddy’s horses had died three or four days before. As farmers do, instead of burying it, he hitched the dead horse to his tractor and dragged it as far to the back of his place as he could, leaving it to the varmints. Corwin had been puzzling over whether or not the varmints had gotten to the horse carcass yet. Corwin showed some industry in hot-wiring the pick-up, but not in driving in the muddy fields. He got stuck and had to leave the truck buried up to the hubs next to the bloated horse. Bill was livid when he came in and found his truck missing. “Where in the Hell is my G—D—- Truck?”

“Stuck in the mud on the back of Uncle Bill’s place.”

“What in the Hell is it doing back there?”

“I drove it back there to see if see if that dead horse was stinkin’ yet.”

“Well, what in the Hell were you gonna’ do about it if it was?”

Aunt Essie had an infuriating little ankle-biting dog named Susie she kept in the house with her.  It yapped incessantly and snarled at anyone who got near Aunt Essie.  Mother and Daddy had never had a dog in the house, so Mother complained about Aunt Essie’s dog. “Let it go,” Daddy insisted.

The next weekend, Bill and Essie went out of town.  Aunt Essie wanted Mother to keep Susie, but Mother declined, not wanting a dog in her house.  It worked out fine.  Unbeknownst to Mother and Daddy, Aunt Essie left Susie alone.  Susie did a lot of house peeing, pooping, and wall-scratching scratching over the next four or five days locked up in the trailer.  Apparently the abandonment upset the poor dog’s digestion. The place smelled like a charnel house by the time they got back.

Not too long after this, Corwin and Kelvin were found to be growing a lucrative crop of marijuana on Daddy’s place.  Mother was infuriated and reported them.  They were arrested.  Aunt Essie got her nose out of joint about the arrest and moved off in a huff.    It’s a shame when families can’t get along.

 

BUY my book: https://www.amazon.com/Everything-Smells-Just-Like-Salad-ebook/dp/B01IVUXROQ

How to connect with Linda

Blog: https://nutsrok.wordpress.com/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/bethea_linda

image

Conquering Corwin (part 2)

imageAunt Essie got her nose out of joint when her little guys came home bringing tales of how badly Uncle Bill had treated them, so he didn’t hear from her till she fell on hard times a couple of years later. She had married her own fella named Bill by that time, strangely enough. This Bill was an affable enough guy, though he must not have taken time to meet the boys before they married. He’d also been married before and “wadn’ payin’ no child support to that whore of a woman after the way she done me. Besides that oldest ‘un never did look anthing like me, ner that little one neither, if you git right down to it.”

The long and short of it was, they needed to get the heck out of Dodge or her sweetie would have gone to jail. Like any landed gentleman of the South, Daddy had always maintained he’d provide a place for any of his sisters who fell on hard times. She magnanimously forgave Daddy. Over Mother’s furious objections, he set up a mobile home on their farm for Aunt Essie and her family. The situation went downhill fast. Aunt Essie wore her slippers to check the mail and slid down. She asked Daddy for the name of a good lawyer so she could sue. He told her she’d have to move if she sued him, so she changed her mind. Her Bill had a heart attack within a month of the time they moved there. He never worked another day, leaving them penniless until his social security kicked in. Guess who supported them.

All that aside, they had the added joy of daily life with Corwin. Corwin quickly dropped out of school, a reasonable decision, since the only thing he was getting out of it was a bus ride and two free meals a day. When he got suspended for harassing little girls, it was a relief to everyone in the system. Bill and Aunt Essie went somewhere in Aunt Essie’s car one day. Wisely, Bill took his keys, knowing Corwin would certainly take off in his truck the minute he left. One of Daddy’s horses had died three or four days before. As farmers do, instead of burying it, he hitched the dead horse to his tractor and dragged it as far to the back of his place as he could, leaving it to the varmints. Corwin had been puzzling over whether or not the varmints had gotten to the horse carcass yet. Corwin showed some industry in hot-wiring the pick-up, but not in driving in the muddy fields. He got stuck and had to leave the truck buried up to the hubs next to the bloated horse. Bill was livid when he came in and found his truck missing. “Where in the Hell is my G—D—- Truck?”

“Stuck in the mud on the back of Uncle Bill’s place.”

“What in the Hell is it doing back there?”

“I drove it back there to see if see if that dead horse was stinkin’ yet.”

“Well, what in the Hell were you gonna’ do about it if it was?”

Not too long after this, Corwin and Kelvin were found to be growing a lucrative crop of marijuana on Daddy’s place. It was a good time for the family to leave.

The Mouth of the Beast

 

child-fist-pumpAunt Essie, like all of my aunts, was a wonder of fertility, if not child-rearing acumen.  She raised seven of the meanest boys outside Alcatraz.  Thank God, her reproductive equipment gave out before she managed more.  I thought Mother was exaggerated when she said they’d all end up in jail or dead before they were thirty.  She was wrong.  Only four of the seven did jail time, and of these, one died in a bar fight after he was released at the age of twenty-eight.  Most of rest passed their time boozing it up at Aunt Essie’s house when they weren’t begetting children or needed in jail.  Contrary to Mother’s unjust prediction, all made it past thirty.   The meanest of the lot turned out to be pretty boring.  He opened a very successful auto body shop and became a deacon.

When Aunt Essie’s boys weren’t trying to kill us, they could be entertaining.  Uncle July was an avid hog-hunter.   He was extremely proud of his Catahoula Cur Hog Dog, Catch.  Catch would go berserk with hog lust and “catch” wild hogs by the ear,  hanging on until commanded to turn loose; not a nice dog.  Uncle July kept him penned up, sternly warning us away from the fence.  Catch might rage through the fence, “catching” us by the ear.

Aunt Essie and Uncle July heard “catch” noises from the dog pen and were horrified to realize one of their angelic three-year-old twins was missing.  They rushed out and found Corwin and the monster dog rolling around in the dog pen.  Expecting to retrieve the bloody corpse of his precious child, Uncle July leapt into to the pen to find Corwin latched down on Catch’s ear, blood pouring from the tattered edges.  When asked why he bit the dog, Kelvin replied, “Dog bite me.”  Corwin was fine except for a few drag marks.

Considering his tender age, it seemed premature to categorize Corwin, but he showed all the hallmarks of a psychopath.  Energized and empowered by his encounter with “Catch”, his strange little mind focused on the unfortunate beast, making his life a living hell.  Despite his concerned parents’ warning, he was soon back in the dog pen with Catch cowering in the barrel half-buried in the dirt that passed for a dog house, howling piteously for rescue.  Realizing he was no threat to Corwin, Aunt Essie and Uncle July abandoned him to his misery, knowing Corwin was off their backs as long as poor Catch was crying.  Catch wet himself and ran under the truck next time Uncle July tried to take him out hog hunting. His spirit was broken.  Uncle July swapped him off to an unsuspecting buddy for a pirogue the first chance he got.

Surviving five horrible older brothers made Corwin and his twin Kelvin tough little devils.  Their parents doted on all the boys, seemingly unconcerned about their reputations as hellions.  When people complained about their bullying, their stock reply was, “What did your Johnny do to them?”  They artfully ignored the obvious fact that the damaged kid was three years younger.  Aunt Essie grieved because the twins would be her last babies, so she let them carry their baby bottles till the school put a stop to it.  It was bizarre to see them coming in from playing football with their brothers, pull their bottles out of their back pockets, and fill them for themselves.  They were fluent in profanity from the time they could talk.

As an adult, between stints in jail, Corwin lived in the dugout of the local ballpark.   He’d worn out his welcome with Aunt Essie and his tippling brothers after attempting to burn her house down over their heads.   He was forcibly extricated by the more sober among them, but did live to the ripe old age of forty-one.  After the immediate threat of roasting in her bed passed, Aunt frequently mentioned letting him move back in, feeling he’d learned his lesson in jail, but her other boys had a longer memory and wouldn’t allow it.

Corwin and the Goat Pills

goat poopI think I’ve mentioned my cousin Corwin was interesting. He was still hauling his bottle around when he started school. His teacher made him leave it at home, so first thing after getting off the bus, he’d get his bottle out of the cabinet, fill it up, and enjoy it along with his after school snack. A hearty eater, he’d grab up a handful of Gravytrain Chunks out of the dog’s bowl as he headed out to play football with his big brothers. As a crawling baby, Corwin had started shoving the puppy out of his bowl and just kind of got hooked on Gravytrain. It added a interest to the game to see Corwin playing football with his baby bottle sticking out of his back pocket. One of his brothers or cousins invariably snatched his bottle and ran, passing it on to whichever kid was new to the game. The chase was on. Corwin carried a grudge to the bitter end and picked up a stick or rock and bash the bottle thief’s head in long after the game of “Keepaway” concluded. His older brothers felt this bit of info was on a “need to know” basis, so new kids had to find out the hard way.

When he was about five or six, Corwin decided it was funny to pee the space heater. He’d fall all over himself to beat his mama in the front door, drop his pants, and spray the open flame with a stinking deluge that spattered, steamed, and spewed up the whole house. As he sprayed from side to side, kids would be scattering to avoid the stream. Should he have any ammo left, bystanders got it. His mother made a token protest, followed by, “I don’t know what makes that boy act like that.” Daddy told my aunt he’d hooked an electric shock to the heater, so Corwin would be electrocuted. She believed Daddy, so made Corwin give it up. I know it wasn’t true, but it would have been a fine idea.

Corwin was horrible. We all hated him. To make a long story short, Corwin was so darned mean, nobody would have stuck up for him. About that time, Daddy brought in some goats. At any rate, when Corwin saw goat pills littering the yard, he thought, they were chocolate M&Ms and gobbled quite a few before he noticed the taste was off. My brother and I made sure he had all he wanted. Seemed like justice.

Conquering Corwin (Part 2)

stuck truckAunt Essie got her nose out of joint when her little guys came home bringing tales of how badly Uncle Bill had treated them, so he didn’t hear from her till she fell on hard times a couple of years later.  She had married her own fella named Bill by that time, strangely enough.  This Bill was an affable enough guy, though he must not have taken time to meet Continue reading

Conquering Corwin (Part !)

ConanIn my family of “Mixed Nuts” Cousin Corwin was the winner, hands down.  When he was about twelve, he and his twin Kelvin got in a little “dust up” with the police, so it seemed like a good time to get out of town.  Aunt Essie called Daddy, asking if the twins could come spend a few days.  Now if the image “twins” brings to mind thoughts of “barefoot Continue reading