It was a dark and stormy night on the lonely, haunted cobblestone streets of Savannah. During the Revolutionary War, many soldiers on both sides of the battle were killed. The townspeople could not bury them fast enough.
We are in deep trouble. The entire family. Samson, formerly Delilah until his dried up raisins were discovered during her hysterectomy, has a problem.
Back near the turn of the 20th century, a family owned a farm that would eventually become part of Summit Chase Country Club. The farmhouse was typical for that period of time, a wooden frame with large front and back porches. It had once been painted white with the traditional “haint”* blue porch ceiling to repel bugs and boogers, all those nasty things that go “bump” in the night.
When I was in high school Mama and Daddy gave me a silver charm bracelet. It was filled with charms that were for my high school and every time we went to another state Daddy bought me a charm for it. It must weight a pound, maybe more. I probably should have sold it when silver was bringing such a high price, but who can sell memories like that?
We mostly go to the grocery store when we are running low on cat food. This week we needed almost everything for cat and people. The pantry was bare, the cats had only a small selection of canned food, and the dry food had one last crumb in the bag. We may starve, but the cats must be fed.
My mother was born on June 27, 1918. Her name was Mary Grace Evans Ratledge, better known as Grace, Mama or Grandmama. At Mama’s funeral, several people mentioned that they had never known her name until that day. Well, she was just Mama.
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