Since we moved to the country in 1991, we have collected a lot of Mayberry stories.  One happened today.  The phone rang, and I checked the caller ID.  It read, "Melvin Nesbitt."  Thought I, "I don't know any Melvin Nesbitt, and I have kids here and am crazy busy, so I will just let the answering maching get it."  But just at the last second it hit me, Melvin, our mailman from our first day here until about a year ago when he retired...I do know him.  So I grabbed up the phone to find that Tollie had already answered it and was bringing me the other extension.

"Laurie", said Mel, "I am delivering packages for (I didn't catch the name) to help them out today." (Aside: Mel just can't hardly stay retired.)  "I am at Hattie's driveway with a package for her, but the gate is locked.  I could leave a note in her mailbox for her to pick it up at the Post Office, but I thought I would check with you first to see if you know the code."

I just learned the code last week (not because they didn't want us to know it, but because they hadn't gotten that part of the gate working until last week), but it had been sent to Kent's phone, not mine.  With a little hard thought, I pulled the number out of my head and told it to Mel.  He delivered the package, and all were happy.  Well, Hattie was a little surprised to see someone coming up her driveway, but she didn't hold it against me, so all is well in Mayberry tonight.

 Life in Mayberry is often hard, sometimes funny, but never dull.

This past week we had our first ever political showdown here in Ripley County.  Lots of candidates that will be competing both in the primary in August and the General Election in November were present.

I picked up a few new Mayberry sayings that I had never heard before.  They all came from some of the six men who are duking it out for Western District Commissioner.

One candidate in describing the various quick fixes that had been done to the courthouse in recent years called them all just, "lipstick and rouge".  What an apt little phrase!

Another one, after hearing the "horrible" condition of the roads mentioned one too many times said, "But that horse has already been beat." (I have heard that before, it was just perfect though when he used it the other night."

Another candidate in discussing the power structure in Ripley County said, "There are a lot of chiefs and very few Indians."

And finally, one said, "Only people that leave Ripley County with one million dollars come back here with 2."  I am not sure exactly what his point was, but I got a kick out of hearing him say it.

Between getting ready for the 40 plus relatives that are descending
on Fern Nook Gravel Road next week, and having my mother in the
hospital, things are quiet on the blog-front.

This blog is (a little) about life in Mayberry in Missouri.
Here is a post in defense of Mayberry-by-the-Sea.

Tip of the Bonnet to Amy.

You know you live in Mayberry when at dinner one night your
oldest son calmly picks 3 or 4 ticks off himself during
the course of the repast, and you further confirm your
residency when no one else even pauses in their eating and
talking.

Everyone was hoping that the long, cold winter we had would
cut back on the bugs, but I think that is it is an old wives
tale that this happens. The bugs are just there--always and
ever and forevermore.

Mayberry (sometimes known as Doniphan) is the best known
little town in the USA. Everywhere you go, if you mention
the name Doniphan, people will say something like, "Oh, I
know where that is." or "My grand-uncle's second cousin's
brother-in-law is from Doniphan...do you know so-and-so?"

Just last week another such story happened.

Taleana and Dan, a couple from our church, escorted one of
the high school bands to Six Flags up near The Big City. They
were both wearing their Doni-fan shirts (you have to live
here to have one!) As they were wandering around the park a
security guard came up to them and asked, "Are you from Doniphan?

"Why, yes we are."

Guard said, "I know some people in Doniphan. My son's in-laws
live there. Do you know the Fleetwoods?"

"Why, yes we do. We go to the same church as their daughter
and son-in-law (that's US)."

It was my sister's father-in-law and one of my parent's best
friends...fun!

Small world.

From Uncle Weatherman Jim:

My rain total for April to date: 4.7 inches.

April 1st 0.1

April 2nd 0.5

April 3rd 3.8

April 4th 0.3


Year to date 30.15

Jan/08 2.25

Feb/08 5.1

Mar/08 18.1

Apr/08 4.7

That’s a whole bunch of H2O, over 2 ½ feet, the ponds are full. Ducks are looking for cover. I still haven’t found any gopher wood.


Jimmy

The Mayberry Flood of '08















Our favorite fast food restaurant knocked out of business.















Greenville Ford















The west side of the Current River Bridge














Fred's

If, for those of you who are Mayberry expats or wannabes,
you are wondering just how flooded we are right now,
imagine the restroom/concession stand at the ballpark
standing with just its roof above water and you will have
a good idea.

When the deluge fell, Tyler was cut off from home. He
called from the church and said that he couldn't get home.
Since the church is warm, has facilities and water, and
has food in the kitchen, we thought he might have to camp
out there overnight. Tandy hadn't been able to get home from
the Sheltered Workshop either, and had gone home with her
van driver. He and his wife are good friends of the
family and were more than willing to keep her as long
as needed.

In the early evening on Tuesday, though, the rain slacked
off a tich for an hour or so. It was long enough for the
creeks to ebb a bit and for Dad to take his truck to gather
the lost chickens of Fern Nook so they could be on their
home roost for the night. I'm thinking it would have been
a LONG night for Tyler to have had to sleep on a pew in the
church.

We even had two leaks in our home; we've never had leaks in
our house.

Uncle Jim, official weather keeper that he is, sent me a
report of 10.6 inches. There may have been a wee bit more
than that all told, since that report was slightly before
the clouds started to break up.

I am glad to be one of the hillbillies that live ON the hill
and not at the bottom of it.

Tyler went to check Over The Hill last evening. I wish we
could have seen it Tuesday! It was still incredible though.
He said at one point Little Black Creek was probably 80 feet
across. He could tell how far up the hill the creek has risen
during the night.

I apologize for no pictures. The camera got left in Dad's
truck yesterday. Maybe I can get some before the Sparkling
Jewel (Current River) completely recedes.

Not all of Mayberry, but certainly all of Fern Nook
was hit hard by an ice storm this week. Most of us
in Fern Nook lost our electricity for 49 hours. So,
you see, I have a good excuse this time for not posting.

When we in Fern Nook lose electricity we also lose water,
since we are all on wells. When we first lost it I tried
to call Uncle Jim and G'ma Opal. Neither one answered their
phones. The next morning, though, I reached Uncle Jim. I
was wondering how G'ma was doing.

Jim said, "I just wish your Grandma would sit down instead
of hopping around like a bunny rabbit asking all kinds of
questions. I need someone to come and take her for awhile."

G'ma hadn't pulled out any water the night before and so,
when she woke up she put a bucket under the drip of the roof,
since it was still raining ice. She figured the roof had
been washed pretty clean after the all night ice rain we'd
had.

How delicious it was, last night, to come home from church to
lights and toilets we could flush, water we could drink, and
warmth coming from the heater. It actually took a long time
though for the house to warm up. We still have some frozen
pipes, though, in the back part of the house that we need to
address today.

Evangelism Mayberry Style

Chains of events are interesting. Yesterday a neighbor's
cows got out and it is all my fault, yet I wasn't even
there.

A week or so ago Hattie and I were chatting and I mentioned
to her that I've always wanted to have all the neighbors on
the gravel over during Christmas. It would be great to have
a little Christmas party, sing some carols and share the
gospel with them. Somehow it has just never happened.

Hattie thought for a bit and then asked if she couldn't
deliver invitations to our church Christmas program to our
neighbors. What a great idea!

So we made invitations and printed them off the computer. We
rolled them into little scrolls and tied curly ribbon
around them and she went out delivering.

A day or so later she was thinking about it again and asked
about delivering some on the gravel road that is opposite
ours across the highway. That was a little farther afield
than we felt comfortable with letting her roam alone, so
yesterday Kent and Hattie hopped on their bikes and rode
across the highway and up and down that gravel road.

When they got to the Hopkins place they left their bikes
at the beginning of the lane and walked up to give the
invitation. The problem was that two large dogs had been
following them for awhile and they followed them right up
the lane.

The dogs went ballistic when they saw a pen of newly weaned
calves, and the cows went loco when the dogs started barking
at them. One burst right through the fence and broke it.

Kent ran up and blocked the way so the rest couldn't get through.
He yelled to Hattie to go get the men that lived there and she
did. Then Kent helped to mend the fence. It was exciting all
right. Just another fun day in Mayberry.

In case you are wondering how G'ma Opal,
Fernnook Farm, and Mayberry are all doing I do
apologize for the sparse updates. Being in a
travel mode this year is making it hard to keep
up with writing about the adventures of everyday
life.

But here is a quick overview.

1. G'ma Opal is well. She beat Hattie at Rummy
big time yesterday. She is still gloating over
her pile of birthday cards from her #97 birthday
party. I haven't gotten an update on the mouse
situation lately, but I know the Japanese beetles
are driving her batty (as they are me).

2. The farm is doing okay. We are hurting for hay
this year and sold several of the cows. We are
hoping to limp by 'till spring if possible without
selling the few we have left.

Our billy was suffering with foot problems, and though
we'd tried some home remedies, the problem wasn't
clearing up. So, we broke down and hit the vet's
office for some antibiotics that we don't normally keep
on hand and gave him all kinds of shots and foot
treatments. Yesterday, the head farmer told me
that Zac (the billy) was doing a lot better.

3. Mayberry is still there and as fun and funny as
ever. It is nearly deer season (gun season) and
life literally stops in Mayberry for deer season.
The kids get out of school for an entire week, everyone
plans their vacation for this time. It is really
rather amazing that you can even buy gas or groceries
during this week. Entire families go out and hunt.
It is definitely THE SOCIAL EVENT of the year.

But...we are going to miss the biggest chunk of deer
season this year because my niece is getting married
in Orlando this Saturday. So, we're off again, at
least as many of us as can get off are off. Some have
to stay and work. Poor Joel!

I realized that I haven't really been giving a
colorful picture lately of life in Mayberry. I
thought maybe a few posts on stories of life
here would give a better perspective. First,
I offer you a story of my friend Sharon. She
and her family moved here from a city in LA some
20 years ago or so.

Sharon has always been a friendly soul and she
has many friends in the community. One particular
friend hales from a town even smaller than Mayberry.
She(the friend) is as hillbilly as you can get. I
can't remember her name (the friend) because I've
never met her, only heard about her from Sharon.
So for the sake of the story I'll call her Miss Billy.

Sharon wanted to raise chickens and she has now for
about 20 years. Towards the beginning of her fowl
career she was hatching out an incubator full of eggs.
(We've done this several times and it is great fun
and a LOT of work.)

As so often happens, this particular batch of eggs had
several chicks who ended up being splay legged. When a
chick has splayed legs they just get worse and worse
and end up hardly being able to walk.

Sharon was devastated. She loved her little fluff balls.
She needed advice. She called Miss Billy. Miss Billy had
been raised around chicks and she was a true blue country
girl, not a transplant as Sharon was. Surely she would
have some words of wisdom.

The conversation went something like this.

"Oh, Miss Billy I have such a problem," said Sharon.

"Tell me all," replies Miss Billy.

"It's my chicks. Some of them aren't doing so well."

"Go on."

With a sob in her voice, Sharon elaborates, "Some of them
are splay legged. What can I do to help them? Please
tell me what to do!."

Miss Billy has the answer. "What to do? Why pitch them
outside in the bushes, that's the only thing to be done
with a splay legged chick."

It was a rude awakening for Sharon. Miss Billy probably
does not know to this day how much she hurt the sensibilities
of my poor friend Sharon.

Life in Mayberry has been busy, but not too busy for
me to notice the incredible moonrise last night, nor
the glittering star studded sky tonight. If I had
to ever actually more into town I would miss my
night sky terrible much.

Four ballgames in one week and especially with three
of them being away games, makes for a lot of driving
time. When you live in small town America you
sometimes have to drive 2 hours to get to a ballgame.
If we had won some of the games 't'would have been more
palatable. Actually I make it sound worse than it is.
I love going to watch my kids play ball; win or lose
it is fun, but I do not deny that it is MORE fun to win.
Oh well, we won all three games the week before.

Billy left for the Big City and the University this
week. He wasn't gone long though. There were only
two days of class and so he found his way back home
for a nice, long, leisurely weekend. He had a rather
interesting experience today. He took some friends
out on the river and then the friends had to leave
early so he was puttering up and down in the boat
by himself. As he was motoring under the bridge,
(those of you familiar with Mayberry will know exactly
where this happened) a man asked him how much he would
charge for a boat ride. The fellow said neither he
nor his children had ever been for a boat ride. So
Bill had them all pile in and gave the man, his wife,
and their four children a ride up and then back down
the river. Of course he didn't charge them anything,
but he did invite them to church.

Today was parade day in Mayberry. It is so fun to
see people you know on nearly every float or in every
group going by. It was a perfectly lovely day and
the parade was one of the best I can remember. Hattie
collected a LOT of candy...enough to nearly fill a
gallon pickle jar that is home to whatever candy she
gets from various events.















When we first sat down I looked across the street and
saw my cousin Stacy and her crew sitting there ready
for the fun.















Hattie and her friend waiting for the parade to start.
















In the midst of it.

You know you live in Mayberry when you are in G'ma
Opal's yard and the neighbor who lives on down the
gravel waves as she drives by, and then she suddenly
brakes and backs up, pulls into the drive, leans out
the window and says, "Why aren't you in Mexico? Is
something wrong?"

Further proof comes when she, after your snakebitten
Joel explanation, says, "Did you know Junior D. (I'll
keep the last name private for his sake) had a huge
heart attack today?" Then she pulls out of the drive
and in 1-2 minutes Aunt Jenny pulls in, hops out of
her car and says, "Junior D. had a heart attach today
and is in the hospital."

Anne Shirley says if you go in your bedroom at midnight,
and then you pull down your shade and sneeze, Rachel Lynde
will ask you the next day how your cold is. Mayberry, and
our gravel road in particular, is a tich like that...no,
it is very like that.

The wildflowers are all purple and yellow and white. There
are purple coneflower, and there are these purple spiky things,
and there are purple flowers that resemble Queen Anne's Lace.
I'd like to make a bouquet out of the three colors of wildflowers.
It would be lovely and, I think, quite artistically pure.

Down the Gravel and Beyond

A last Mayberry update before I head down to Mexico
with several of my family and church members. We are
going down to Cuernavaca to work on a church building
project at Torre Fuerte church. Last year we poured a
concrete floor and helped with VBS. We also worked on
the Mission Retreat center, Chula Vista, that we were
staying in.

This year will be much the same. The ladies will
concentrate on VBS and the men will be working with concrete.
They are adding some Sunday School rooms to the church
and the guys will be working on the walls and roof. I
am going to try and update on the Mission Trip as we go.
I'll have a new title...Laurie the Live-blogger.

But back to Mayberry...G'ma Opal and Uncle Jim came over
Monday for lunch. We also had my folks and a few of Hattie's
girlfriends. She, Hattie, was having a combo birthday
party. 'Twas fun. The Princess turned 10; Kent BBQed his
famous chicken; I had ribs in the crockpot and G'ma Opal
brought fried squash and cantaloupe. Of course there were
other side dishes and the cake and ice cream.

G'ma said, "I can't remember anything anymore."

Kent replied, "At least you remember that you can't remember."

Then G'ma smirked and said, "I always heard you couldn't lose
your mind unless you had a good one." She also bragged on my
cooking and said, "I've not had a meal that good in a while."

High praise indeed from the daughter of Hattie Simon.

We take turns going to the nursing/boarding homes in Mayberry
on Sundays. (The churches in town take turns.) We usually are
assigned to one of the three facilities about once a month.
This month we go twice. Hattie said, "It's a Blue Nursing Home
Month." See, she listens Pa and Jim to your talk. She has
Blue Moon down pat and can even expand on the idea.

We've been ballgaming for the last two nights. It seems that
all of Mayberry shows up at the park. Smile and wave...wave and
smile. Chitchat. Feel connected. Find out the latest gossip.
Realize that Hattie has reached the stage in her ball career
where a snowcone after the game does not quite make up for a big
loss. I cherish that as a step in maturity. It does not hurt
her to deal with disappointment. God in His mercy sends the hard
as well as the easy. He knows we need growing up and He is the
one who will accomplish it in our lives.

Oh, one last note. We have guppies. We have lots of guppies.
Kent, bless him, takes the job of disposing of extra guppies
once or twice a week. (They multiply really fast.) Before
leaving for Mexico we wanted to depopulate the tank so they'd
have more breathing room. Catching them in a net is hard.
So, in our brilliance, we put a towel in the tank and were
waiting for lots of them to be above the towel and then we
were going to scoop up a load all at once. We left the
towel in overnight, and unfortunately, we eliminated a few
more fish than we expected. The leftover soapsuds in the
towel from when it last went through the washer and dryer
have poisoned our guppies. There are still loads of them,
but they seem to be dropping off one by one. Stand by
for a guppy update at a later time.

I stepped out the door into the sultry July night
and I stepped into a sea of homesickness. I became
homesick for the very thing I was experiencing. I
was so homesick it hurt.

A cool wind was blowing away the heat of the day.
Venus glowed brightly just above the western horizon.
The waning moon was not yet risen. The bullfrogs were
in full orchestra, and crickets chirped along with
them but at a higher pitch. Dogs were barking in
the distance.

Fernnook Farm, my own little corner of Mayberry, is
marvelous in July. I missed it last week when I was
at the Lake; I'll miss it next week when I am in
Cuernavaca. It will burn like a flame in my mind
while I am gone and will welcome me with open arms
when I return.

I meant to give an update on all things Mayberrien, but
right now, though I am in the midst of them, I am missing
them too much. So I will wallow in my melancholy and
give the update when the mood swings back up.

We made a flying trip to the Big City this past weekend.
We had a wedding to attend and then, since there were
several from Mayberry there, we decided to make a day of
Saturday by going to the zoo.

Sister Becky, a Forest Park Junkie, just devised a
scavenger hunt at the zoo to use during her daughter's
16th birthday party. I borrowed it and we divided up into
teams and went for it. My team did not win, but we did
have fun.





























I have to admit though, time spent in the Big City always
seems so frenzied. Perhaps it is because we try to fit in
too many things while we are there. Couple that with the
huge numbers of cars and people and it isn't long before this
country girl begins to feel overwhelmed.

It was with a huge sigh of contentment that I exited my car
under my own sagging carport and was hit full force with the
croaking of the frogs and the singing of the crickets and
the deep darkness nighttime that is unrelieved by street lamps.

There is nothing so Mayberryish as spending a night
at the ballpark. Half the county seems to be there
on any given game night.

Of course, there's the fun of seeing the Princess smack
the ball and get a triple (albeit two of the bases were
on overthrows-it is a never ending battle to get those
little people to throw the ball to the pitcher so play
can be halted rather than throwing to a base and giving
the runner ANOTHER chance to advance), but there is also
the fun of knowing players and parents on both sides,
knowing all the umpires personally, and chatting with
the crowd in general.

There is the warm-fuzzy feeling that is inside when you
say to one of the umpires (one who happens to attend the
same church as you do) that made a call that just happened
to be in your team's favor, "Good call, Blue!"

Various and Sundry and Rambling Mayberry Musings

1. I was stupid; I was. To think I could play three
softball games at the tournament Saturday and
then go on to continue normal living afterward.
That up and down catcher stuff is a killer on
the thighs muscles.

2. I am grateful; I am. The $1500 plus we raised for
the concrete project we will be working on in Mexico
this summer was worth the sore thighs, almost.

3. Life is delicious; it is. Lying in bed with the open
window at our head which allows the sweet and cool night
air to waft in and listening to the night noises noising
is a gift of surpassing value.

4. Life is double delicious;it is, it is. Rising in the
morning to curl into my little secret spot and listen
to the waking birds while the cool air flows through
the window and God speaks to me from His Word is a
richness undeserved.

5. I lied; I did. I haven't given any Mayberry Musings
in this post. There are some, but they don't fit the
mood somehow, so let's just see how well they keep in
the old grey matter for a later post.