Reading in Dialect

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On a recent visit to the farm, Debbie read from a 19th century cook book that was written in dialect. The lush phonetic vocabulary reminded me of the short stories I’ve read from Paul Laurence Dunbar, who wrote in dialect as well. He was a fantastic and well known poet and in his short life time, he gained quite a bit of fame. Unfortunately, he died young. Being a Dayton native and good friend to the Wright brothers, he is one of Dayton’s celebrated sons.

As for the cook book reading, the wonderful descriptions of the contents and the cooking process were delightful to hear in Debbie’s southern accent. When was the last time that you listened to someone else reading aloud? Do you read aloud? I read in silence, and perhaps I am missing out on part of the experience.

the wee one

 

What we have here is the newest and possibly the most smiling McMurdo family baby. He is the first of his generation and the son of my niece, Katie.

This is the first trip to Atlanta during which I had the chance to spend quite a bit of time with him. Did I say that he smiles? Maybe smile is not the right word. His entire face lights up. When the edges of his mouth begin to move upwards, his eyes grow wide, his head tilts back, and suddenly you are presented with a full facial, whole body, grin.

But, not in this picture. All of the grinning wore him out and he decided that his MiMi’s chest was the perfect place to lay his head and look at what his Uncle Tim is up to.

seeing the boy

 

Today is one of those wonderful days that have you giddy the entire week. I’ve been wearing a grin that would put the Cheshire Cat to shame.

And what has had me gleeful with anticipation? Two days with the boy of course. I’ve missed him and this morning he starts his two days off and we are planning a whole bunch of fun. So, if it puts a smile on your face, think of me floating along like a balloon fully of happiness.

Woe unto him that tries to pop me.

Have a great day folks.

 

open

 

Somewhere between Athens and Winder, GA is a cross roads full of antique stores. There is also this one shop that my father can’t resist. In an old industrial building is a store that is stocked with the kind of junk that Odd Lots turned down. Next to a pallet sized box full of men’s tightie whities you’ll find a shelf full of odd bits of rope and a bin full of rainbow colored canvas tarps.

On this particular trip, dad walked away with some sanding belts and a box of steel wool. Because, no man goes without steel wool and sanding belts. It’s written in the Man Book. Go look it up.

Have a great day.

 

three of the man

 
 

 

If you are lucky and didn’t turn out to be a terrible parent, you are rewarded by having a kid that will grow up into a fantastic adult. My son, Josh, is a perfect example. I am very proud of him and the person he has become. He is kind, generous, thoughtful, adventurous, fearless (except for that heights thing), and for all of you young ladies out there, he is single as well.

For me, the best part is that he is wonderful to be around. We might be just hanging out, eating lunch at Willy’s, or out for a day of shooting. He is a good conversationalist and is comfortable talking to people.

Yeah, I am really proud of him.

canning asperagus

 

The first step in canning asparagus is the welcoming smile.

 

 

 
 

Followed by the reading of the recepie.

 

 

Then more smiling.

 

 

More recipie reading.

 

 

Then some waiting for everything to finish boiling and cooking.

 

 

Finally, you stuff the pickled asparagus into the jars. Then back into the boiling water for a bit.

I hope you found this step by step process to be helpful because I am a helpful kind of guy.

 

reading hour

That’s my sister and I using Dad as a jungle gym while he’s trying to read something technical and uninteresting to the two of us. Kelly and ire are rocking those footed Jammie’s while Dad is sporting a classic ensemble of cuffed cords, fancy socks and penny loafers. Mom has always ensured that he dressed well. After all, he is her trophy husband. Isn’t that so Dad?

Who’s idea was the hat?