Baked Snake
Not A Delicacy For Some
Personally,
I haven’t noticed a greater number of snakes this year as opposed to
prior years, but judging from recent incidents, there’s no shortage
of snakes. Knowing the propensity of cold blooded creatures like snakes to
seek a warm spot relative to other surroundings, such as that which is afforded
by asphalt shortly after sundown, I’m surprised I’ve not seen a
snake or two on one of the late afternoon/ early evening walks Barbara and
I have taken since my heart attack. But, we haven’t, and I’m thankful
for it.
I suppose it’s a reflection of our backward thinking, but we both subscribe
to the notion that states, "The only good snake is a dead snake."
I’m not deathly afraid of snakes, but I can’t say the same for
Barbara, who’s been known to freeze at the sight of one. However, I
try to keep a safe distance between a snake and myself, and I will go out
of my way to smite one, if I have a rod or staff suitable for smiting.
Sarah was walking with us the other evening when we passed the home of Tommy
and Patsy Patterson. Tommy was showing a couple of friends a black rat snake,
whose head he had, only moments before, whacked off with a golf club. There
were no "poor snake" comments being shared. I’m not a heartless,
bloodthirsty savage, and there are some animals whose passing I might be
prone to mourn or at least give pause for reflection, but a snake is not
one of them.
About a month ago, Starr Wood Brown was working in her flowerbeds when a
copperhead struck her hand. One of its fangs penetrated her leather glove
and one finger. She was treated at the Emergency Room at the local hospital,
but it took her a day or two to get back to feeling normal again. Starr’s
experience has given me cause to carefully inspect my own flowerbeds before
pulling weeds.
Virginia Dillard called me a couple of Saturday mornings ago to tell me that
one of my neighbors had a snake get into the oven of her stove.
"You may want to ask Sue for permission before you write anything in your
newsletter about what I’ve told you," Miss Virginia cautioned.
Miss Virginia had encountered Miss Sue (Mrs. Raymond Montgomery) in the beauty
shop on the day the snake found its way into Miss Sue’s stove.
"She was still shaken from it," Miss Virginia shared.
I took Miss Virginia’s advice and visited Miss Sue before sharing any
"neighborhood news" in this newsletter, and I have her approval to relate
what happened.
The same afternoon I heard about the snake-in-the-stove incident, Barbara
and I knocked on our neighbor’s door, but there was no one at home.
More than a week transpired before I had a chance to visit Miss Sue and Mr.
Raymond. Barbara was in Biloxi, MS, at the time I decided to hear the snake
story first-hand. As I walked into the Montgomery’s driveway, their
garage door opened. I caught them as they were about to leave for the grocery
store, and though I insisted I could come back at a later time, they were
more insistent that I stay.
"I want to hear about you baking a snake," I teased Miss Sue. "I guess you
can laugh about it now, but I imagine it wasn’t funny at the time."
We walked back into the house, and I had just sat down in the living room
with the Montgomerys to hear about the snake, when my cell phone rang. Seeing
it was a call from Barbara, I quickly showed the blinking red hearts on the
display to Miss Sue, before I answered the call. Neither Barbara nor I are
sure why my phone displays blinking hearts when she calls, but we agree
it’s a nice feature.
"What ‘cha doing?" Barbara responded when I answered the call.
"Sitting in the Montgomery’s living room," I replied.
"Are you going to find out how to cook a snake?" she asked.
"Yeah, hold on, and I’ll ask," I told her.
"Barbara wants to know how you cook a snake," I spoke to Miss Sue.
She laughed and responded, "Turn your oven on to 450 for about fifteen minutes,
and it’ll come out fine."
Miss Sue explained that the day she baked a snake, she had turned her oven
on in order to cook a frozen pizza for supper.
"I turned on the oven and came in here and sat down for a few minutes while
it heated up. After a while, I smelled something, and I wondered what it
was. But, it didn’t smell bad," she stated. "When I opened the oven
door to put in the pizza, blue smoke boiled out of the oven."
"Must have been one of those blue racers," I reasoned.
Miss Sue laughed and said, "I don’t know what it was; it was completely
charred."
The day before I talked to Miss Sue, her son and his wife had been by and
cleaned the charred remains from the oven, but she had still not used the
oven of the stove.
"How have you been cooking without using your oven?" I asked.
"I’ve got that toaster oven," she stated, pointing to it on the kitchen
counter. "I’ve been using it."
"How did a snake get in your oven?" I asked.
"We don’t know how it got in the house, unless it came in when our garage
door was open," she stated, opening the oven door. "Do you see any hole inside
the stove it could have crawled through?"
While, I couldn’t see a hole anywhere in the oven, I knew the oven was
vented under one of the burners on top of the stove.
"It had to have gotten in through this vent on top," I stated.
"Well, if you decide to not use your stove, are you going to buy a new one?"
I asked.
"I don’t know if I can afford a new stove," Mr. Raymond grinned.
I supposed he was joking and reminded him that he just recently purchased
a new Cadillac, something he does regularly every two or three years. It
wasn’t until I was leaving that I noticed a new lawn mower in the garage.
It was an almost new Snapper riding mower.
"I don’t think he likes it," Miss Sue offered, "he hasn’t been
on it a time."
Mr. Raymond remarked that he liked the mower and was pleased with the bargain
price he paid for it. It was about the same amount as would be required to
replace his wife’s stove. Thus, it occurred to me that’s what Mr.
Raymond meant by saying he couldn’t afford a new stove. Whether he can
afford it or not is not for me to say, but I do know that if Miss Sue wants
a new stove, Mr. Raymond will find her one.
I keep thinking, he’ll get off light even at that, because if a snake
finds its way into our house and into our stove, Barbara Ann will have us
looking for a new place to live.
Casinos &
Cussin’ By Barbara Carter
I don't get to spend so much time with my daughter and grandchildren anymore
- what with their lives caught up in activities in Belmont, MS, and mine
in Pontotoc, but last week I invited Rayanne, Merilese and Katherine to join
me on a trip I found necessary to make to the coast of Mississippi for a
conference.
Since Rayanne has recently retired to stay home with the "girls", they were
available to go with me. We left Pontotoc about 1:15 on Tuesday in order
to arrive on the Coast in ample time for my Wednesday morning meeting with
Project Homestead. Project Homestead is an organization sponsored by the
Department of Human Services, and one of which I have been a member for
approximately three years in Pontotoc. Each year they host a conference and
the day prior to the conference they hold a Peer Review of the Project Homestead
segment for the state. I have attended the Peer Review for the past two years,
but this was my first time to attend the conference workshops as well.
If you have been to the Gulf Coast in recent years, especially from North
Mississippi, you know that the drive can be quite tiring. My various map
programs told me it would take anywhere from five to six, almost seven hours
driving time. However, we made good time on the trip, due to the fact that
the girls were buckled up in the back seat, each with a set of headphones
on and a DVD playing away. I don't know how long they stayed awake watching
the DVD, but at some point both of them were sound asleep.
Rayanne and I made the trip carrying on conversations, which we don't seem
to find enough time to do these days. Anyway, there were only a couple of
stops along the way and we made fantastic time, arriving in Gulfport in a
little over five hours.
Somewhere down the road, Katherine blurted out "DAMN."
Rayanne and I both looked at each other and Rayanne said, "What did she say?"
just as Katherine repeated the new word.
Then she clarified that Donkey, in the movie Shrek, said, "That's the best
damn parfait in America," or something similar to that.
Of course Rayanne had a talk with Katherine and told her that "damn" was
not a nice word to be using and that she should not repeat it, even if Donkey
did say that. Oh well, that conversation certainly woke us up. We found a
spot to stop and have dinner before driving on in to Biloxi and checking
into our room at the Isle of Capri Hotel.
When we turned onto Highway 90 and headed toward the hotel, the girls got
really excited about the lights. After I got us checked into our room and
we unloaded all our luggage, the girls discovered another exciting feature
-- an escalator in the lobby of the hotel. Fortunately there was also an
elevator so we could transport our luggage to the lobby level easily, but
the girls, or rather Merilese was fascinated with the escalator. Katherine
tried, but she just couldn't get the coordination required or lose her fear,
I'm not sure which, so we held her on most of the trips up or down the escalator.
The room that was reserved in our name was very nice and the girls (their
Mom and Nana, too) were amazed at the space and amenities. We found three
TVs in the room, two phones and a whirlpool bath. We had an excellent view
of the Gulf of Mexico.
Katherine was running around investigating everything and she said something
about, "check out the bathroom!"
Merilese said, "Well, Katherine, it's just a bathroom! We have one of those
at home."
Katherine said, "Yeah, but we don't have one of those silver rectangles with
Kleenex in it."
I decided to interview the girls to get their ideas of the trip, once we
returned home and below are some of their interpretations of what they saw
and did.
Nana: "What was the first thing you remember about Biloxi?"
Merilese: "The room! It was wild. I liked having three TVs best."
Katherine: "The dolphins."
Nana: "Where were they?"
Katherine: "At the light up place at the Islen Capri."
Nana: "Katherine, describe our room or the hotel."
Katherine: "I liked the peep hole on the door and the escalator -- and the
steps."
Nana: "What was your favorite thing that you did?"
Merilese: "I have two things - the escalator and the pool. That was my first
time to ride an escalator - you don't have to walk. I liked swimming around
the whole pool and splashing off the sides. I met Molly Kate and Savannah,
and Charlotte. It was fun to make new friends."
Katherine: "Swimming. I went under water and I learned to dog paddle. Getting
a tan and I liked my swimmies."
Nana: "Where did you go eat?"
Merilese: "The Olive Garden, Taco Bell, Tradewinds at the hotel."
Katherine: "The lobby (Tradewinds). I got a 7-Up and water. Taco Bell."
Nana: "How long did it take you to get to Biloxi?"
Merilese: "Five or six hours. I got tired -- I slept and watched DVD's."
Katherine: "Seventeen hours. Merilese watched Shrek, but I didn't watch it
because I didn't want to watch it over and over again."
Nana: "Do you want to go to Biloxi again?"
Merilese: "Yes."
Katherine: "Yes."
Nana: "When?"
Merilese: "Saturday."
Katherine: "Next week."
Nana: "Would you like anyone else to go with us?"
Merilese: "My Daddy. I missed him."
Katherine: "I would like for Chloe Hammack to go next time, and I would like
for Daddy to go, because I missed my Daddy."
Nana: "What did you learn from this trip?"
Merilese: "I learned that casinos sure are pretty on the outside, but they
just take your money on the inside."
Katherine: "I learned how to hold on to Mama's arm to go down the escalator."
In a nutshell, we all had fun visiting, shopping, eating, swimming, and even
riding, but we sure were glad to get back home.
Note: This article was written by Barbara Carter.
Bodock Beau
Senior's Personal Ads
I am unable to confirm these are real and not something someone made up,
but either way they are still humorous. Thanks go to Ken Gaillard for sharing
them with us.
Some "Senior" personal ads seen in Florida newspapers: (Who says seniors
don't have a sense of humor?)
FOXY LADY: Sexy, fashion-conscious blue-haired beauty, 80's, slim, 5'4" (used
to be 5'6"), searching for sharp-looking, sharp-dressing companion.
Matching white shoes and belt a plus.
LONG-TERM COMMITMENT: Recent widow who has just buried fourth husband and
am looking for someone to round out a six-unit plot. Dizziness,
fainting, shortness of breath not a problem.
SERENITY NOW: I am into solitude, long walks, sunrises, the ocean, yoga and
meditation. If you are the silent type, let's get together, take
our hearing aids out and enjoy quiet times.
WINNING SMILE: Active grandmother with original teeth seeking a dedicated
flossier to share rare steaks, corn on the cob and caramel candy.
BEATLES OR STONES? I still like to rock, still like to cruise in my Camaro
on Saturday nights and still like to play the guitar. If you were
a groovy chick, or are now a groovy hen, let's get together and listen to
my eight-track tapes.
MEMORIES: I can usually remember Monday through Thursday. If you
can remember Friday, Saturday and Sunday, let's put our two heads together.
MINT CONDITION: Male, 1932, high mileage, good condition, some hair, many
new parts including hip, knee, cornea, valves. Isn't in running condition,
but walks well.
And finally:
Jay Leno.... The Army announced this week they are now training
mine-sniffing dogs to go to Iraq. How bad do you have to screw up at obedience
school to get that job?
05-25 Chronicle
Home
Copyright © 2000 - 2005 RRN
Online.
