i love comments

I sometimes turn the comments off because, quite frankly, the spam is killing me. Even with the filter. I’ll go crazy if I read another ad for Xanax or Hot Young Teens.

But please feel free to stop by and say hello, to drop me your thoughts on a post or to tell me how positively wonderful I am by emailing me via the CONTACT ME link to the left. Anytime people. Anytime.

Much Love.

Buffy

witches and warts and the wizard of oz

See that freckle on the end of my nose? Well, it’s more of a mole really but I call it a freckle because ‘mole’ sounds ugly.

When I was four my uncle use to tease me that it would keep growing as I grew. And that one day I’d look like the warted witch from the Wizard of Oz . Kids would be afraid and giant hairs would sprout forth.

A few years later that same uncle went bald. I’m convinced this is why.

Let that be a lesson to all who taunt small children.

1946

We was spindly little things but we was strong. Us from back on the mountain. We worked like them town kids didn’t.

Why we’d start before it even got light. Seemed like the middle of the night. I guess it was too. We’d work with the cows and the corn and the chickens and with whatever else grandma needed done, ’til the dark came.

Sometimes we’d boil up a hog or clear out a field. Not just brush and stuff but big ole trees. I’d get up in the tops of them pines and Wick’d cut ‘em down and I’d ride ‘em all the way to the ground. KAWHAM!! Now that’s a fact boys. Wonder it didn’t knock the livin’ life right out of me. But I weren’t afraid of nothin’ back then. Didn’t know to be.

Yes sir. We’d burn up the days with work. The hard kind. It helped turn us into men when them town kids was just boys. All spring and summer and most of the fall. Didn’t even have shoes to do it in neither. Not during them months. But somehow we always got ‘em for winter. Even though we never thought we would.

Farmer, from Way Back