Home sweet home

Home sweet home
I was 68 years old when I built this log cabin to live in on my 40 acres in Oklahoma. The only power tool I used was a chain saw to fell the trees. The rest was all done with hand tools. The logs were squared off with the foot adze I am holding in the picture and the logs were then skidded through the woods by a jackass (ME). Some had to be dragged a quarter mile. The only help I had was a friend helping with the two top courses of logs. The wall was too high for me to do it by myself at that point. Everything is fitted together. The only nails are the ones that hold the roofing on. JUST LISTEN TO THAT OL' BOY BRAG. ;-] And look at all the junk he flung out the door. Why I believe that's a real live redneck.

Wednesday, March 19, 2008

Nighborly Tendencies - Part 1

You kids quit that hoorawin around and climb up here next to your old Uncle Hoody. Did I ever tell you about the time Eb n' Lafe - well never mind, just listen to the story.


NEIGHBORLY TENDENCIES by Billy Whiskers

"Eb Bodeen!! Git out from under thet comforter. Ye promised ye'd git to that corn field today. Careless weed agittin so tall you can't see what's left of the corn".
"Aw Becky", groaned Eb,"I'm afeelin a mite peckish today. Belly all riled an head about to bust".
"Wal iffen ye wants the how comes I kin tell ye. I heered ye rattlin round that root cellar last night. I swear come a tornado we won't have room to cram our own selfs in there for all thet home brew ye got stacked up"
Becky turned back to the stove and rattled the grates furiously, then began stirring the gravy in the pan like she was whipping cream.
Eb rolled out of bed on his hands and knees and crawled over to the wash stand. Hauling himself to his feet he began pouring water over his head with the dipper.
Without even looking, Becky swung a backhand with the gravy ladle, leaving a streak of gravy on the baggy seat of Eb's long Johns. "I didn't fetch thet bucket a water all the way from the spring jest sos you could clear the likker fumes", She shouted.
Eb tried to get the conversation back to more comfortable ground. "Whuts fer breakfast"?
"Biskets an gravy with grits", she sniffed , "Not much meat in a lazy man's cabin".
"Thet so? Whut ye call this yere"? He stumbled over to the tow sack in the corner and prodded it with his foot. It commenced squawking and flapping all around the cabin.
Becky sniffed again, louder this time. Becky could crowd more into a sniff than the preacher could get into a sermon. "Tell me agin. Mebbe I kin believe it this time. Jest whar you say you got them two fat hens"?
Eb suddenly got very interested in a fly on the wall. He stared at it like he'd never seen such a sight. Over his shoulder he said, "Tole ye. I found 'em in the woods last night".
"Two fat ol'hens jest awanderin around in the woods in the middle of the night? An no coon er bobcat er owl had the good sense to gobble 'em up"?
Eb turned around and drew himself up to his full height,"Now you lissen yere. I gotta go check the still this mornin. Time I git back I spect I'll find them two hens plucked, cleant an ready fer the pot. Ye hear me woman"? His speech was spoiled when suddenly a stricken look came over his face. "Could be thet last batch a brew were a mite green". He made a dash for the back door.
Becky waved the gravy ladle over her head like Moses urging on the Israelites. "Vengeance is mine. I shall repay, saith the lord", she shouted as Eb dashed for the outhouse.

TO BE CONTINUED

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