Thursday, June 19, 2014

Wedding Bells

Did I ever tell you about the night yer Mama and Daddy get married?  Did they ever tell you? I'm sure you see the perty pitcher, them astandin' aside a thet cake yer Mama's Aunt Grace make. Doesn't matter. They was too eyes-on-each-other to see whut I saw, so le's re-pair to th' parlor an' be comfortable. Grace, hon, could you bile up some a thet sassafras root I shave th'other day?  Jes' have a hankerin' for a nice hot cup!

Waal, son, yer parents have plan their weddin' at th' church there on the corner.  But they plan it for Christmas Eve.  Whyever they would do thet, I've no idee.  Six-thirty, it were, the ceremony, I mean. Suppose ta be six-thirty, I mean.  Ever'body in town, hit seem, were there, ever'body, that is, 'ceptin' the groom.  Now, yer Mama is Grace's first-born niece, 'n course Grace and yer grandma, they allus been close, 'n there they are, next of each other on the front pew.  I'ma sittin' a row aback a them.  Now, there is no one west a the Miss'ippi a better worrier then yer grandma.  If'n she have nothin' ta worry about, then she worry that there mought be something she ferget ta worry about!  So then Mary, she is a frettin' somethin' fierce, 'n Grace, she is tryin' to calm her nerves.  Mary is convinced yer Daddy has been kilt on the way over, or somethin' worse, whatsoever thet might be.  Waal, standin' her daughter at th' altar, thet would be worse!

Then aback a me, I hear the whisperin's, even some gigglin' amongst the younger set, unseemly as that mought a been.  An' I hear ol' Millicent Page, she mutter, "An' him a preacher!  Well, I never."  An' I'ma thinkin' "We all know you never."  But the devil made me think it, forgive me, Lord.

Waal, Brother Morgan, he's the minister, doncha know, with a big smile on his face, ask ever'body to join in singin' "Silent Night."  So we did hit.  An' yer Daddy still wa'n't there.  Then we sing "Hit Came Upon a Midnight Clear," 'n mos' folk still lookin' et th' clock on the wall.

Yet as you already know, Daryl arrive, an' ever'thin' else go on without a hitch.  Er, ah, I mean ever'thin' go on as plan, includin' the "hitch."

Waal, the celebratin' 'n th' cake 'n ever'thin' was special, but we all notice thet Daryl's trousers was bespattered with a good bit of mud.   An' his shoes, well, the less said the better.  Seems th' ol' Chevrolet he drive skid off th' road and get stuck in a barrow pit.  Lucky fer him, 'n fer you, too, mayhap, Ol' Bascomb come along on his hoss.  The hoss take care the prollem.

"What'd I owe ya?" Daryl ask.

Ol' Bascomb say, "How many horsepower thet machine got, son?"

"Thirty-five."

"Waal, look t'me like ya shoulda got the thirty-six horsepower model.  'Night, now!"

 'N all's well thet ends well!

Grace!  Hon, could I maybe have one more cuppa thet tea afore I toddle off ta bed?

© 2014 David W. Lacy 35




5 comments:

Vee said...

Lovin' the tale and thinking there will be no anniversary celebrations. It will always be just Christmas Eve.

Sharkbytes said...

You just have a gift with these tales! Love the horsepower :-)

vanilla said...

Vee, too right; that Daddy will be spending the anniversaries assembling Christmas toys, etc.

Sharkey, perhaps a function of having live so long? I am blessed.

Secondary Roads said...

Twarn't the horsepower under the hood, but in front of it that gets ole Daryl out of his sitcheeashun don'tcha know.

vanilla said...

Chuck, yep, good ol' four-hoof drive.