Blacksnake Rd. Easley, SC, 1982—Just remember–I really am not making these stories up. They happened, ‘truth is stranger than fiction.’

There were lots of good parts to being a stay at home mom, but the downside was that money was scarce. Steak wasn’t on the menu when Max(ine) was around. That summer of ’82 we were growing Leonard the Goat. The rest of the provisions would be field peas and cornbread, field peas and cornbread and…..Steve provided for us well throughout his career as Ma Duke’s child, but sometimes the money almost ran out before the month did.  Our 15 acres of land included a Russian boar, goats, steak on the hoof[1], chickens, and a garden. Our land was our grocery store.   Read More→

Note: For those of you who are 40 or younger, and those of you who may not understand some of my Southern colloquialisms, footnotes will be located where footnotes are always located if you took my English class in elementary school, just sayin’.

I do chase a lot of rabbits in these stories. They are necessary for the telling of the story, stay with me here!

Dateline—Hot as a firecracker August, 1980 on Blacksnake Rd. Easley SC—aka Coon’s Creek (the nickname for our 15 acre farm, complete with cow pond and a snaky creek. Read More→

Just a few yuk, yuks to help your day!

I wasn’t the following man’s schoolteacher! We had to have the garage door repaired.  The Sears repairman told us that one of our problems was that we did not have a ‘large’ enough motor on the opener.  I thought for a minute, and said that we had the largest one Sears made at that time, a 1/2 horsepower.  He shook his head and said, “Lady, you need a 1/4 horsepower.”  I responded that 1/2 was larger than 1/4.  He said, “No, it’s not. Four is larger than two.”  We haven’t used Sears repair since.   Read More→

      As I skid downhill past sixty and begin the climb to the next decade, sleep becomes a rare and luxurious event.  My late husband, Bill Coogler, could sleep in a straight chair with a loud television in the background, I must have complete quiet.  In addition to quiet, all conditions must be right.  Bill would cut down large forests of trees with his snoring apparatus nightly. I called it, “The Salem Chainsaw Massacre.”  Earplugs muffle the ongoing machinery somewhat.  The only real cure was to roll my sleeping husband to a side position. Read More→

As a domestic engineer of thirty-two years, I have attempted to open my share of adult proof containers.  I can appreciate the fact that the Tylenol murders caused widespread panic for drug manufacturers everywhere. But now I have a homicidal heart directed toward packing engineers when I want to open a container. Read More→

When last we left Ray and Steve they were getting ready for Ray to cut a demo at a Pickens County recording studio. The demo went well and it set Steve back $45. Their next stop had to be Nashville! But, the fellas at the studio had doubts about Ray’s reliability. It might have had something to do with the smell of Jim Beam around Ray’s cowboy collar. Read More→

   Easley, SC 1980’s–The good thing about coasting over the hill is there are many awful experiences for me to look back on with a chuckle.  My first late husband, Steve, was an animal lover, wild, domestic, or farm, cheap or expensive, he surrounded himself with the animal kingdom.  Read More→

Dateline 2006–Winston-Salem, North Carolina–My sister’s North Carolina church, Calvary Moravian, is home to the youngest pastor in the Southern Province to be named a Bishop. Their dear departed secretary referring to his“fortyish” age, affectionately named him,“Baby Bish.” Read More→

Visits to my childhood home often bring me face to face with memories of growing up with a sister seven years older and wiser than me.  Bestowing this compliment will perhaps get me out of trouble with her at a later date. Read More→