Ray Stevens and Gems

 

rare red squirrel

Going to church has never been like this. Seriously.  One time when a 50 yr. old bachelor man accidentally drove his brand new motorcycle up the stairs and into the church. He wasn't sure about the controls. But I didn't get to see it, because I was in Sunday School. Dang. 

But Ray Stevens puts everything in an unexpected way.

A squirrel?

Astronaut Ray Stevens

 

There are many more, some of them "politically incorrect". Give 'em a look see.

 

Food, Glorious Food

Food. Give me food.

Think back to your youth and remember foods that you loved, that was a peculiar speciality for your home area. What was it? Would you eat it now?

Take your time and peruse the food below. As you say, ewww, try to recall history where cooks always found a way to stretch a dollar/pound and feed a family. 

Amazon has quite an extensive selection.

Varied menu
Granted, this menu is decidedly upscale. Blackberry bread pudding? Oh, yeah.

creamed squirrel over fried grits

Wines for Wild game pairings

Hasenpfeffer rabbit stew

stuffed skunk

Cake for dessert Crazy cakes

In our rural area, where some farmers still live in "hollers/hollows", wild game is a food source, and is still hunted. Deer and Elk hunting are important in the economy of Pike County, Illinois.  Celebrities and sports figures can be seen in the local diner in November. 

Southerners also hunt these wild animals, as part of their food base. 

Did our family eat wild game? You betcha, it was part of the culture. Mom prepared rabbit, squirrel, snapping turtle, ducks, geese, venison, elk, and frog legs. She emphatically refused possum and skunk. "Have to draw the line somewhere."

Since this was part of the culture and time, we didn't think anything about our dinner. Mom could cook anything, wild or not.

At least now, canned products may be purchased which removes hunting, killing, cleaning, skinning, and cooking. Two cans of creamed possum for $12? Worth every penny.

Sites for further information:  Amazon cookbooks.  Broken Arrow Ranch, Amazon Wild Meat assortments

**These days, some cans are gag gifts. Have to read the can label carefully to confirm that. "Here the beavers have been known to get under your covers and snuggle you to sleep."

Potluck in Old Walderren

Potluck dinner in  some church, some where.

A moratorium  now outlawed church potlucks in Old Walderren. The last one caused a flash fire when the Barbeque Pit exploded, sending miscellaneous pork bits and ribs, along with Bob’s Secret Ingredient (lots of whiskey) flaming sauce, flying over to Ol' Miz Guthrie’s tiny old house.

Ol' Miz Guthrie heard screaming coming her way, and then smelled the barbeque fire on her roof.  “Oh, Lordy, Lordy!  My house ‘s afire!”  As fast as a squirrel on a live wire, she scampered out the door, wringing her hands while the fire department extinguished the barbeque flickers of flame.

No damage done,  Ol' Miz Guthrie thanked everyone, shushing them away, and hurried back inside.  Looking around at her immaculate, nicely decorated home, she raced down the steps to her basement, which was packed with a fireproof chest of jewelry (oh, how she love nice expensive jewelry), and packs of one-hundred bills. 

Unbeknownst to the community, Ol' Miz Guthrie was quite a spendthrift made possible by her late husband’s last bank robbery in 1955 in Chicago.  I gotta out of this town.

The next day her brother Ralf showed up at night with a big van and they moved everything from the basement during the big school dance.  Just before she closed the front door, Old Miz Guthrie turned the old gas cooker on high, and tossed a burning dish towel through the door.

The town mourned for her. Damned BBQ sauce.

This is a repost from March 2015, Wednesday Words. Oh, Lordy, they are fun.

Wednesday Words: Old Miz Guthrie and the Fire

Arsonist squirrel

A moratorium was now placed on church potlucks. The last one caused a flash fire when the Barbeque Pit exploded, sending miscellaneous pork bits and ribs, along with Bob’s Secret Ingredient (lots of whiskey) flaming sauce, flying over to Old Miz Guthrie’s tiny old house.

Old Miz Guthrie heard screaming coming her way, and then smelled the barbeque fire on her roof.  “Oh, Lordy, Lordy!  My house ‘s afire!”  As fast as a squirrel on a live wire, she scampered out the door, wringing her hands while the fire department extinguished the barbeque flickers of flame.

No damage done, Old Miz Guthrie thanked everyone, shushing them away, and hurried back inside.  Looking around at her immaculate, nicely decorated home, she raced down the steps to her basement, which was packed with fire-proof chests of gold coins, jewelry (oh, how she love nice jewelry), and packs of one-hundred bills. 

Unbeknownst to the community, Old Miz Guthrie was quite a spendthrift made possible by her late husband’s last bank robbery in 1955 in Chicago.  I better get outta this town.

The next day her brother Raffert showed up at night with a big van and they moved everything from the basement during the big school dance.  Just before she closed the front door, Old Miz Guthrie turned the cooker on high, with bright flames crawling to a dishtowel.

The town mourned for her. Damned BBQ sauce.

zzzzzSnapzzzzz

Kudos to Delores at Under the Porch Light!  These six underlined words were a challenge for me this time.  Just could not find a common thread to weave through and tie together.
Moratorium? Congratulations, Delores!  You got me.
Ahem.  If you would like to access her site and read other participants, please click on the lonely grapefruit in the sidebar.  And, please, join this challenge!

Oh, Clara!

Clara, could you move Grandpa’s folder, please? 

From the movie UP: Squirrel! Distraction

Oh, Gramma, I can't!

‘Cause if I do…then I’ll get distracted. And

Then I’ll start playing with it.

I will open it.

I’ll look at all Grandpa’s papers.

And then something will happen.

I will take all those papers

Out and play with them.

The papers will end up on the floor,

Under the sofa,

And then I will get in trouble.

Mama will send me to my room where I will

Look out my window

Source

Crying.

Oh, then.  Leave Grandpa’s folder

Where it is.