Pondering on the damp porch today. Porch is warmer than my house! Too hot with a sweater on, too cool without one so so I’m off to the lady den to ponder on my writings today.

Got the mail out of the box when I was walking Penelope and looking at the Subway coupons made me think of a funny story about Chief. You might have read this on Facebook years ago.

Several years ago we were in Roanoke for the weekend. We came every two weeks to check on the house. I have a Christmas decoration addiction and usually started decorating the last weekend in October so I could have the house fully decorated by our McMurray family Christmas dinner.

Chief was in the sun room (I call it the lady den now), which he called the writing room. He was working on his history of Alabama’s county courthouses when I hear him say, “Mama, let’s get a suburban.” I’m up on a ladder, hanging a Christmas garland, and I’m thinking where is this new car fever coming from him so I tell him we already talked about getting a new car later in August.

He says, “No, one of those suburban things you eat!” I’m thinking he’s having a stroke or something and it suddenly dawns on me he means a Subway sandwich. So I say, laughing, “You mean a subway?” He laughs too and says yes that’s what I meant. So we gather up Penelope and off we go to Subway. He loved to go in and order the sandwiches so he asked me twice what kind I want and off he goes. He comes back with the sandwiches and says, “Mama, I forgot what kind you wanted so I got you a BALONEY! Subway.”

Y’all I am starving and looking at him like he’s lost his mind and thinking who even knew Subway had a bologna sandwich. Seriously, he forgot what I wanted and with all the choices he chose bologna! I was trying so hard to not say anything unkind, thinking he is the only husband in the world who would buy their wife a bologna sandwich. And I’m probably the only wife in the world who would eat it! I do eat a bologna sandwich at home but who would order that with all the choices available? So I say, “That’s great. I know you’ll love it so I’ll share half with you!”

The man had no common sense and would get himself into scrapes when he was’t thinking. I came home one afternoon from work and he meets me at the car and says, “Mama, I think I plowed my glasses up in the garden.” He hadn’t had them long and the thought of having to buy new ones depressed me but I said, “Let me look and see if I can find them.”

He was working on a little piece of ground for a turnip green patch. He had little garden patches all around in the woods. The sheriff’s department’s drug helicopter landed once in his sister’s back yard thinking all the little patches were marijuana gardens. Chief’s sister was babysitting our children that day and she fussed at the sheriff deputies for scaring the children and thinking her brother was growing drugs. Made a good tale when I got home. She still gets mad talking about it.

But back to the glasses. I looked all over and lectured him for putting them on a tree limb to start with. He could have easily put them in the wheelbarrow where he had put his t-shirt when he got hot. We looked forever and finally gave up. I go out there one more time around sun set and a ray of sun struck them right when I got to the little garden. They weren’t even bent just covered in red dirt. He was so proud I found them. I think he said I was a “wonder,” whatever that is.

Once I came home from work and Stew said, “Daddy cut his finger with the bow saw and it’s dripping blood. I think he might need to go to the emergency room. He put masking tape on it ‘cause YOU never buy us any bandaids!”

I go check on him and sure enough the blood is running down his finger. As usual he’s not even concerned, he’s just happily sawing up firewood in the afternoon sun. “Chief,” I say, “Get in the car so we can go and get your finger sewed up.” He says, “No, it’s fine. I poured Listerine on it and covered it with masking tape. To go out there will cost a thousand dollars.” Oh my God I thought.

We get to the emergency room and the nurse asks me if we had put anything on it. “Well,” I said. “He poured Listerine on it.” The nurse starts lecturing me for letting him pour Listerine on the cut. Keeps on lecturing me as she tries to get the masking tape off the wound. Chief’s grumbling he thought Listerine was an antiseptic and the nurse is fired up with our stupidity. “Now we’ll have to boil the Listerine out before we can even look at the cut to see if it needs stitches!,” she says. She was very, very grouchy. She goes on and on and when she’s through I tell her I wasn’t at home when it happened and I give her my best Southern bless your heart look!

Three bowls of peroxide later the doctor comes in and cleans the cut and just puts a bandaid on it. Only cost $2200 for the bandaid but insurance covered it!

I miss this man and our adventures more and more everyday! Bye! Bye!