Bulletin From The Rural South
Update: January 2018, IT’S COLD!! No snakes, no skeeters, just cold. Outside of the lack of snakes and skeeters, the other silver lining is we aren’t getting blasted with snow like the poor folks up east. I went down to the Coldwater River bottoms the other day in search of a “wilwy” whitetail deer (think Elmer Fudd). The beaver sloughs, swamps and everything but the main river is frozen solid. I asked myself why anyone in his right mind would be out here in minus 0-degree windchills, but I believe the question provided its own answer. Kind of reminded me of some of my characters in Tallahatchie. “What would Dewayne and JT do?” They’d have built a big fire, burned down half the forest, probably caught their clothes on fire and jumped into the river to save themselves. You can read more about them in the novel based on the people and experiences I have encountered growing up here in the South. If Tallahatchie doesn’t make you laugh out loud, it will at least have you shaking your head and crying.
Check it out at Tallahatchie Southern Fiction Book One: ebook
July 31, 2017
Folks, sorry if I’ve been remiss in my postings. Life sort of got in the way for the last month or so. We said farewell to my wife’s mother, celebrated our daughter’s birthday and our 42nd wedding anniversary. That and I came out with the new novel, “Tallahatchie.” Those events and the new book have taken up a lot of my time. But anyway, I’m back.
And today’s post closely follows the theme in Tallahatchie: life in the modern South. Normally, I post one of my bird photos every week or so, but today I have something different.
This morning while enjoying my first cup of coffee I received a text message from my neighbor Tish Pierce. A photo of a couple snakes was attached to her text: “Poisonous or not?”
One look and it was obvious. “Poisonous,” I replied.
The phone rang almost immediately. “They’re still down here, near the back gate.” The excitement in her voice was unmistakable.
“I’m going to grab my camera and I’ll be down there in a few minutes,” I said.
When I arrived, Tish and her husband, Jeff Aker, were looking at two mature copperheads (pictured). I am still not sure if it was a dance of love or a dance of combat, but perhaps someone who knows can tell us. Anyone who has ever been to a bar in the South knows it is sometimes difficult to tell the difference.
After getting the photo, we discussed our options.
Since having grown up in the south, I have heard of at least two instances where dogs have been fatally bitten by copperheads. Tish and Jeff have two. My suggestion was that we remove the two snakes from their yard. We did.