Explains a lot about you, too.

Fished and crabbed with ‘em. Followed ‘em around doin’ whatever they were doin’, or tryin’ like hell to emulate ‘em whether it was walking behind on in a ‘bacca field, or followin’ one the the truck stop/gas station while he wrenched on rigs and sold ice cream over the counter.

They ate spam on crackers, I did too, shrimp cocktails, so did I. They ordered chitlin’s… you get the picture.

Sometimes, when the house was full of grand youngin’s rasin’ cain, after supper, one of ‘em would announce he was goin’ “over the river”. That meant two things I think, one he needed to feed his hogs with the dinner scraps, and two, he’d had enough of the cain we were raisin’ and politely found some peace and quiet on his place “over the river”.

Dad now owns that place, and when I’m in Carolina, it’s where I stay. Family cemetery across the road from the house way back in the field. Been back there several times to get reaquainted with at least the names of some of my relatives that came there before me. There are a couple of Civil War vet’s back in there. A set of twins, Great aunts and uncles…

Thanks for the walk back through my past and yours too.

and i LOVE pimento cheese, for the same reason, it just screams memories.

i adore you too, rsm. keep writing. grandpas rock!