Let's face it. There are some pretty amazing things we can do now with technology. And even though I've always been an early adopter, I'm certain I no longer begin to scratch the surface as to the modern marvels available to a lay-person.
One of the top reasons I love technology??? It's ability to keep my family connected and simultaneously sharing our wicked sense of humor [at least you'll finally see, it's genetic!] Last night, after a late work dinner in Columbus as we were walking back to the car, Sweet Sarah says, "well, your sisters are out of control again."
Why?, as I glance down at my phone and see 43....FORTY-THREE!!!! text messages.
so, dear readers....brace yourself. And here's your fair warning: you have to get our sick sense of humor to appreciate it.
Here's the transcript, condensed to eliminate break in conversation but the play by play none-the-less [with my comments to help keep you up to speed....good luck!]
AMY: Poison oak again!
| [NASTY!-- my comments, not included in texting] |
| [MY BEAUTIFUL NIECE! HOW CUTE!!!] |
AMY: Got it from the goats. Was petting them! [Amy and her family have goats]
MOM: Julie that is funny
JULIE: I am funny. Amy, as a mountain woman you need to find a way to build up some immunity to such ailments. Maybe quit shaving your legs or something.
AMY [in her best southern pioneer accent] Perhaps. Tis true , indeed to survive under these conditions it will be necessary for my body to build some immunities Of some nature... The prospect of this continuing indefinitely leaves me to wonder how it can be that I shall endure... I dug some roots to make a salve to which I applied to my skin but the fire ants took hold of my hind end and I now find myself with root sap on my front and fire ant bites on my rear...what a sight indeed...
JULIE [not missing a beat] Endure you shall. Wondering what next may come
AMY: For dinner because of my condition, we are having leftover biscuits with beans cooked in bacon fat leftover from last year 's hog...oh this wretched itch!
MOM: Caution is best exercised when gathering supplies
JULIE: Thus try a tincture made of nectar of the slithery vine from yonder, coupled with a salve made from the goats milk This shall ease your suffering
AMY: Tis true. I was in such a state of panicked itchiness that caution was left on the doorstep next to the bowl of milk fat I was making butter with. Oh dear...
MOM: WD 40 if you're a real mountain woman
JULIE: Best to send the young one to fetch more lest your husband come home to find you in such a state of disheveledness
AMY: I hope that the grasshoppers do not visit...the spring garden is in and our plans include slaughtering an animal of some sort... Oh yes...I must gather myself and put my britches on & not continue to wallow in suffering as I would hate for him to think I was wallowing with my britches off for any other reason!
JULIE: Well you better figure out the animal so you can get to raising the beast in time for the fall harvest Lest he is the one you are wallowing with I suppose
AMY: He already thinks the reverend Harlow visits too much. But I only have a heart for him on Saturday nights after his bath If he hasn't been pulling on the jug
JULIE: Blessed is he that has the opportunity to bathe at least one day per week in time for the lords day
AMY: Thanks be to God. We are so blessed to have a tub, barrels of corn pone, smoked meat in the smokehouse, flour & sugar, and a donkey [they do not have a donkey]
JULIE: You can thank god all you want but I know he's punishing you with that poison oak for all the things you've been brewing in that still up on that mountain. John boy has already written about it in for the Richmond paper [note the Walton's reference for those of you still following along!]
AMY: A woman's got to make a livin...either a still or...I chose the still. Hell be damned John boy. Cookin hootch is better than usin your c----! I am a woman of The Lord! Thanks be to God! He gave me the recipe! [continuing now with the Walton's reference]
JULIE: Oh I never heard such unladylike language in all my life You mountain women are all the same Uncouth
AMY: Well reverend Harlow doesn't think so!
[enter stage right, just now getting caught up] ME: Oh sisters sisters. Here I am trying to make something of myself. I've gone and left for the big city attending a function of the senior most Vice President in the state's capital city only to return and find such dreadful drivel of middle sister's sipping of the recipe and tempting the right reverend. Oh the delightment and hilarity of it all. Did it ever make my evening after being surrounded by such a serious nature of insuring lives and protecting others from life's unforeseen such as you have found yourself in a state dear little Amy.
JULIE: YeS, littlest sister Holly, it is not looked upon fondly when you delight in the desparity of others. Especially, the likes of those birthed from the same mother of thyself
So....there you have it. A brief glimpse into the wicked sense of humor of the Spann girls all shared over text messaging all because of poison oak. And the only parts that are true???? The poison oak. The Goats. And my meeting.
I. LOVE. MY. SISTERS!
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