Saturday, September 16, 2006

If you've ever wondered what sets Mayberry apart from
The Big City the following is a good example. Yesterday
Princess Daughter rode her bike down the gravel to visit
her Great-Grandma Opal and various other relatives. She
was excited because she had heard that my cousins's husband
and his son were down for a visit since yesterday was the start
of bow season.

Around dinner I called around to find her; I located her on
the third call. "It's time to come home and eat," I told her.

"Mom can't I eat here?" she asked.

"What are they having?" I inquired.

Whispers occur in the background. Then, "Hamburgers, hotdogs
and bratwurst."

"Okay," I tell her.

On any given day she could eat dinner with her Great-Grandma,
Great-Aunt, Great-Uncle, Grandma and Grandpa or with us. It
is a blessing that they are all good cooks, andthat they all cook in
a relatively healthy fashion. That is, if you consider bacon grease
and hogjowl as healthy. Actually mix them with enough whole
grains and vegetables and they are.

Then here is a list of the people who dropped by our house during
the afternoon and evening yesterday:
1. Aunt Jenny--to borrow a utility knife.
2. 1st cousin once removed Mary--to have us scan and print out some
3. Cousin by marriage Alan--to talk about bow hunting and fishing.
4. Princess Daughter's 2nd cousin--they'd been riding bikes and
ended up here.

Late breaking news...Brandon, another 2nd cousin, just popped in
looking for the boys. His dad shot a deer and they need help
trailing it. Out the door went Billy, and away pelted Princess
Daughter. Life just doesn't get any better on the gravel.


e-Mom said...

..."down the gravel" is a new one to me... I assume you mean down the road? What a fun bunch of visitors.

Laurie said...

Yes, it does mean down the road. I used to say rock road...but learned that is just not the way it is here in Mayberry. People live down the gravel.