Sunday, July 28, 2019
For all my “rich, full” life, I have heard many folks in Upper East Tennessee use “there” or “here” as an extra word in a sentence or at the end of a sentence there. There are many examples here. Here are a few there:
“How do you want me to do that there?”
“What do you think about that there?”
“In all my born days, I’ve never seen that there!”
“I thought I’d give you call there.”
“What is that there thing doing here?”
“Well, I’m just a ‘sottin’ (sitting) here.”
“Do you want some of this here pie?”
The list, as in my mind, could go on infinitely! Of course, “there” is pronounced “thar,” and “here” is prounounced “hear,” with emphasis on the “he” and a slow drag out on the “ar.”
Well, the Appalachian Irishman became interested in this here topic on yesterday there. As far I know, no one else has posted anything on this here Interweb world of fun on this here topic there. So, it is up to me to take that there bull by the horns and to wrestle it to the ground there!
Okay, so, to all you linguists out there, why do we, here in Irish-American Appalachia, use “there” and/or “here” as extra words in sentences? This here inquiring mind wants to know there!
Sunday, July 21, 2019
Well, it’s not been “a month or two,” but, on 7/21/19, today, I checked “Farcebook,” to find, as well as I could count, twenty-six happy birthday wishes, from national and two international friends! Well, that’s cool! My birthday was on a work-a-day Wednesday, 7/17/19.
Во-первых, моим русским хорошим друзьям, большое спасибо! Между нами много миль, но мы все еще близки, после всех этих лет! Я люблю каждого из вас!
Secondly, to my American friends, as in part of the prior Russian, I love each one of you (in Christ Jesus)!
At age 59, this Appalachian Irishman, busted up as he is with “bionic” body parts, can still do almost everything that he could do, in his younger years. (I still can’t run, really run, like I could, and I’m still about five minutes slower hiking up My Mountain, slowed only by my right foot and right knee.) I am a fine tuned race car, with great engine and transmission. The frame has been damaged, so the ride is rough. The rough ride goes on, until it’s time to go home. Make it soon, dear Lord, make it soon! I’m ready to come see Mom, Dad, and so many who have gone home before me!
The beef jerky and smoked sausages are the way to this Appalachian Irishman’s heart, and stomach! I have a couple of bags of jerky to eat (and to share with Molly), before I can get to these, but I WILL get to these. (Molly might get a little, maybe.) “Good things come to those who wait.” Ha! Note: I receive no money from any type of product endorsement; although, I can tell that these will be delicious! Ha!
Oh, you asked about the pink ribbon? Well, via Mrs. Appalachian Irishman, I’d given another set of four wheel covers, to my “favorite” sister-in-law, for her birthday last month. (If she’d stop trying to drive on two tires, in Dukes of Hazard style, she’d not lose wheel covers so often. Ha!) I replaced the two that were missing, again, as last year! Ha! Well, as I had asked, Mrs. Appalachian Irishman wrapped the same pink ribbon around the box, in which the wheel covers came. Ok, so, “favorite” sister-in-law gave me back the same pink ribbon! Now, that’s just funny!
7/20/19 Family Time
The next day, Saturday, 7/20/19, was the 50th anniversary of the first moon landing. (I was there, hiding in the lunar module! I remember! Ha!)
Mrs. Appalachian Irishman’s birthday anniversary has always been one day after mine. (I wonder: why does that never change? Ha!) It was a work-a-day for me, and it was a summertime whatever-she-does day for her. As part of her birthday gift, she picked Fountain City Diner, for a 1 PM dinner (not lunch; I ain’t a northerner or a city slicker). To join us were, in arrival order, my next-to-youngest brother, my “favorite” sister-in-law, and her daughter. Now that was some fine eatin’ and some good, family conversation!
Oh, the diner is closing, due to greedy landlord’s far too high rent increase. That’s the way to kill a great small business, landlord. I hope you sleep well at night, not really. The economy is NOT growing, at your 56% rent increase rate.
Okay, that’s enough of that sidetrack. I am still confused. The three females looked over the pies on display. They talked about pies, but they didn’t BUY any pies! What? Can you explain why not, to me?
Sunday, July 14, 2019
Addendum to yesterday’s “Corn Dog!” post: after the events described in that post, on that same day, I was on the phone with a good neighbor. Mrs. Appalachian Irishman was sitting in a kitchen chair, tapping her foot on the floor. She was itching for me to get off the phone, so she could kiss me and then, as her main priority, go to “check on” her Dad. He -- with sister-in-law and, now, again, niece, along with a “catdog” and three cats -- lives three miles away. Go, dear, go, I motioned! She jaw kissed me and rolled on, while I was still trying to wind down the call to a long-winded neighbor! Now that’s just funny!
So, what’s this mashed ‘tater war, you ask? Good! I’ll tell you! While Mrs. Appalachian Irishman was making certain, absolute certain, that her Dad was fine, as he was, my youngest brother sent me a text -- either way too late for dinner or way too early for supper -- stating that he was eating mashed potatoes and that I was not.
So, at the appropriate supper eating time, I took this photo of my plate, placed on an edge of the kitchen counter. Mrs. Appalachian Irishman sent my youngest brother the photo, in retaliation! Ha!
You know. I wonder. Why do all these people on “Farcebook” post photos of food that they are about to it? It’s just silly to me! Eat it! Don’t photograph it! Don’t post the photograph on “Farcebook!” Stop it!
Of course, as an Appalachian Irishman, raised in Upper East Tennessee, I eat mashed potatoes almost every day! By my Irish roots, I wish that I could have some form of potatoes (i.e., hash browns, baked, mashed, etc.) at every one of my usual three meals a day!
Saturday, July 13, 2019
7/8-14/19, the new, improved, bigger, and better Gibbs Weigel’s is offering FREE corn dogs! We had received a flyer in the mail with a coupon!
What else can an Irish American do? About 12:30 PM, Mrs. Appalachian Irishman, bravely, joined me, in the usual haul trash and get gas routine. However, this was a special day, as I was going to get me a FREE corn dog!
The storm clouds were showing. I hoped that we’d make it home, before the bottom dropped out of the clouds. Well, in typical Irish luck, after getting gas for my new ‘ol truck, we went inside, to get my FREE corn dog. While inside, the bottom dropped! Noah would have been proud! It was a typical summer tropical down pour! After a few minutes of waiting, with conversation with a man about my same age or older, I said let’s get to the house! Well, we both took a second shower for the day. Both of us were soaking wet. The rain cleaned out the inside of the cab, for my new ‘ol truck! (Of course, I wiped out all the water, after I got my truck into the “barn” (i.e., garage)! I must respect my truck!)
That was a lot of fun! (Note: this stupid website won't post in the font that I demand! Not my fault! Ha!)
Sunday, July 07, 2019
On a date after June 1974, but still in 1974, Mom, probably, took the above photo. The photo includes: Dad (lower left); his two sisters (Aunt Carrie and Aunt Lula, the eldest of all eight siblings); and four of his five brothers: Uncle Bill (lower right), Uncle Paul (upper left), Uncle George (center, standing), and Uncle Carson (lower center). Uncle Roy, who, with family, lived in Washington DC, was not present.
The photo is a duplicate of the original. I had duplicates made on 12/17/02. As I recall, I gave the duplicates to my three brothers and to Dad, as Christmas gifts. On 12/27/00, Mom went to see Jesus.
1974, in our new Caney Creek Road home, was a great life transition, for the Earl and Betty Ferrell family! Also, I started high school that fall. I have many memories at the old Walter Livesay home, just off “dead man’s curve” on old Highway 11W. I have many memories at our Caney Creek Road home, where the above photo was taken.
On Saturday, 7/6/19, two of my three brothers had photos taken, on about the same spot, at the Caney Creek Road homeplace. The “longsuffering” Mrs. Appalachian Irishman took this photo. This is one photo. I am the eldest of the four sons of Earl and Betty Ferrell. I’m standing on the right, wearing my House Mountain T-shirt! (Let’s hike!) Youngest brother, Doug (aka Earl Douglas or “Dougly Doright”), is in the middle. Clark (next to oldest, aka Clark “Kent”) is on the left. Arthur could not attend the gathering, due to car difficulties, as he claimed.
We visited and ate outside on the front porch most of the afternoon, with a little pop up shower that joined us for a while. Doug and the youngsters played in the front yard. I picked up and piled branches at least. Everyone was in and out of the home often. Clark wanted to repeat the same photo location, with us four boys. That was a grand idea, Clark! We all had a great time!
Oh, here is an extra photo! I took it. Well, you see Clark and Doug, my two of three brothers. So, the others are, from left to right: Shanna (youngest child of Clark; she enjoyed going thru Mom’s recipe books; she found and kept her old letter to Santa), the “longsuffering” Mrs. Appalachian Irishman, Clark’s fourth wife, Clark (as stated), “uncle” Skylar (Shanna’s son), Stacy (Doug’s wife; he’s standing behind her), Lillianna, then Ariel (Doug & Stacy’s girls). The vehicle is Clark’s Nissan Pathfinder. The camera view is northeast. The ones in the photo are looking southwest. Behind me is the grapevine that is still alive and producing grapes. The grapevine is from the grapevine that Granny and Papaw Wood had in their large back yard, at their home in Bean Station. After Papaw died, in 1983, Granny began living with us. The grapevine was continued. Well, I could write about many other items, but it’s close to supper time, and I hear Mrs. Appalachian Irishman finishing up supper preparations. Let’s eat! At this 7:17P, 7/7/19, posting date, we have had supper (such as it was). Molly doggie is in. Time for another get ready to start a work-a-day life. Well, I had my 7/5/19, one-day vacation this year! Roll on! Ha!