To Garner Wisdom

"Happiness is an attitude. We either make ourselves miserable, or happy. The amount of work is the same."~~~Francesca Reigler

Tuesday, October 11

Listening

I often say that I am not a good listener. It I know is because I tuned many of my surrounding family members out, as I was growing up. It was my way of escaping the unpleasantness of my home life. I really did not want to hear the bickering that was a constant. My grandmother and mother didn't even drink and they were at times worse than the drunk men in the house. It is true I know this that people pick on who they can get away with it with. I assume at times that is why the other grandchildren picked on me. My grandmother at times just simply bulled Mama. The deal of Mama was not all there made it seem to not be bad thing to criticize everything she said or done. This being the example that was set for the way the kids treated Mama also. To them Aunt Jean/Mama was mistreated by all six of us. We got her to do chores we didn't want to do. She was better than any of the family because she just wanted to get along in this so called life she was trapped in. She had been forced out of her home by my daddy's irresponsible ways. He was supposed to be sane, but had a worse disease than the one that occupied my mama's brain. She was drove to being so nervous that it was assumed she was crazy. Crazy can be defined many ways. Crazy is hidden well by many people. I think There is a little crazy in most folks. Weird ways, that is it; They have weird was is the same as saying, crazy. Mean is another word for being crazy to me. Some people could never be sane as mean as they treat others. To this day if there is something that really is going to bother me, that someone says, I can just tune the unhappy things out and go on about my business.

Shade Tree Mechanics

Shade Tree Mechanics
Working on a car can be dangerous. The car can fall if it is jacked up and fall. With daddy working on anything seemed as if fire was the main danger. Grandmother's house had not been built back long after their fire. We were living in a new brick house, which I thought was a mansion. I drive by there now and am amazed at how small it seems. That night he had pulled the navy blue Dodge Dart he was driving at the time beside the carport. I always got really worried when he tried to do something drunk. He had to, just had to get the car fixed, to go visit Parker. Parker was the local bootlegger. One of the local bootleggers. Lauderdale County was dry. Traveling to Pulaski was really not an option, considering the not so reliable car Daddy had. I could see out the kitchen door as he stood under the hood messing with the breather on the top of the engine. He took it off and was pouring gas into the carburetor. The next thing I knew flames were coming from under the hood of the car. Forget there being an easy way to put the fire out. There was not a water hose hooked up. It was before fire extinguishers were standard in homes. Dirt was the answer at that moment. I saw the fire and him getting sand from the pile that was left in front of the house from the building back of Grandmothers house. The fire was finally put out, but the car was in need of more repairs than before he started.

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