June Gran'ma Gertie

Howdy Ya’ll!

I reckon since June is such a big weddin’ month, I’ll tell ya’ll how me and Gran’pa wound up hitched. It was way back in 19...19..., oh, it’s been so long now I plum fergot! I was a sassy little strap of a gal the first time I laid eyes on him. I thought he was the purtiest thing since May flowers! He had eyes that looked like chocolate and a true city-boy attitude. I took to him like a new pig to slop. He didn’t fancy me too much, though. I don’t know whether he was scared of my daddy or just didn’t know what to think about this bossy lil’ ol’ gal! I tried everything but outright chasin’ him! He’d come by my house real slow in his buggy, but soon as I’d walk out, he’d take off like he’d seen a ghost. Shortly after that, I lost track of him. Don’t remember how, but I did.
The next time I seen him, I’d done got grown and had an attitude of my own. He kept lookin’ at me like he wasn’t sure where he knowed me from. When it finally hit him, he got this strange look on his face and said “My Lord, but you growed up!”. I told him that’s what happens when time goes by.
Two years later, I was the proud owner of one sure fire city boy! I think I let him chase me ‘till I caught him. He was beginnin’ to scare me though. He moved so slow there fer a while that I just knew I was goin’ to have to get mama’s rollin’pin and WHOP him over the head with it just to get him to pay attention to me! But I got him, ya’ll. I sometimes may not know what I’m gonna do with him, but he’s mine. He’s been around so long now, I prob’ly couldn’t run him off with a stick. I reckon I’ll keep him. I don’t think nobody could put up with either of us now that we done got so old and set in our ways.
After that, it was all the same stuff that goes on today with new couples. We worked hard, had our babies, and done all the things couple do. Probably some stuff that young’uns today wouldn’t even think of!
Now I ain’t gonna tell you that trainin’ a city boy is a easy job. You’d be surprised how little that city boy of mine knew. I’m talkin’ about easy stuff , too. Like how much wood to load in the stove and how much fat lighterd to use. He ‘bout burnt the house down ‘till I showed him.
Or how much seed to buy come plantin’ time. I sent him to the feed and seed store one day with a list of all the things I wanted. I wanted all the usual, butterbeans, field peas, corn, okra, and such. When he got back, he was more embarrassed than I’d ever seen anybody. I asked him what the problem was. He told me that when he got to the store, he saw something was missin’ from the list. When he asked the store owner about it, the poor feller just about died laughin’ at Gran’pa. My city boy husband had asked for potater seeds!
I reckon what I’m gettin’ at is aimed at all the new June brides and grooms. It don’t matter none if you’re all country, or pure out city slicker. Just make shore that the one you’ve chosen to spend your life with is gonna be there to make you laugh sometimes. Sometimes laughter will be all you’ve got. When the times get hard, and they will, the only thing that’ll help you young’uns make it is laughter. It’s free, it’s easy to give or to take, and the last time I checked, they ain’t got no taxes on it yet!!

‘Till Next Time,

Gran’ma Gertie

Welcome To The World of Gran'ma Gertie!

Howdy Ya’ll!

Welcome to the world of Gran’ma Gertie! I reckon I aught to interduce myself. I was borned Gertrude Maybell Smith somwheres around a hunderd years ago. I been married to the same old geezer fer what seems like forever. I got more gran’young’uns than a pear trees got blooms in springtime. I got my share of wrinkles, and my hair’s been gray fer so long that I done fergot what color it used to be. I’ve always been a big ol’ strong gal. My daddy used to say it was ‘cause I come from good stock. I was born and bred in the country, and never took a shine to the city. Except for my ol’ man. He was a city boy all the way, and thru and thru ‘till I got hold of ‘im! Had to teach him everything he knows. Now that you know a little bit about me, I reckon we can discuss a few things, you know, chew the fat a bit.

I reckon at my age, I’ll never git used to all the new things this world keeps comin’ up with. Some of my gran’young’uns just spent around $300.00 dollars fer me a miker-wave. They said it would cook real fast. I just ain’t figered out what they think a rotatin’ light bulb is gonna cook! It does make a perty good shelf to put some of my what-nots on, though. I reckon I’d like the clock part too, if’n it did’t blink 12:00 all the time!

It seems to me that the women now-a-days have just about cut off their noses to spite their faces. What with all the new fangled gadgets and thing-a-ma-jigs they got now. Take them biscuits in a can fer instance. Now that they ain’t got a use fer a rollin’pin, what do they think they’re gonna WHOP their ol’ man with if’n he needs it? Only thing I can think of is to fix them sudden biscuits in a cast iron skillet and use that to hit him with.

They got telephones that do everything but make a phone call. I, fer one, sure don’t like them answerin’ machine things. I don’t need some machine tellin’ me to leave a message, I ain’t so old I cain’t call back!

They got cars you have to plug in and teli-visions that you don’t, addin’ machines that are so little you gotta have a magnifyin’ glass to use ‘em, and radios so big it takes two people to tote ‘em. They got perfume that’s s’posed to smell like real vaniller flavorin’, but they use imitation flavorin’ in their cookin’. They got take out food that s’posed to taste like homemade, and their homemade taste like it should be took out, maybe to the dawgs!

Women used to know their place. Then some gal must’a thought we ought to get smart and start makin’ us a new place. These modern women got things so messed up, I’m beginnin’ to wonder if’n we were better off where we were.

What with all the gadgets and such we got now, I don’t know whether I wish we could go back to yesterday, or whether I should just keep hangin’ on to see what the heck is next!!

‘Till next time,

Gran’ma Gertie