Several years back my grandmother (here on out known as "granny" because that's just what we call her) was placed in a nursing home facility so that she could have the very best care for the rest of her life. She lived there 6 1/2 years! I didn't go much, but the staff were always pleasant and my mom and her sisters have given them much praise since her passing. I'm assuming she was well cared for there.
However, her living there ended the years and years of visiting the farm...
This is it. Their humble little house in Kevil, KY. I thought driving there would absolutely kill me when I was little. I didn't know it then, but it could have been so much worse had I been forced to wear a seat belt or ride in a booster seat! Instead, when mom said load up (at 4am) I'd make a bed in the back seat floorboard and sleep most of the way. Kara and I took turns laying playing the games we had brought with us (yesterday's version of a Nintendo DS was a miniature PacMan or Tron arcade game...still wish I had those!) Many hours later, I'd be running up that side walk to my granny who held the door open for me. "You're brown as a biscuit!" I later figured out that she was talking about my tan.
The downstairs of the house had 2 bedrooms, kitchen, living room and bathroom. The back porch was off the kitchen and in the winter the whole back porch served as nature's ice box. Pies and cakes and whatever needed to be kept cold, could just stay there instead of the refrigerator if there was lots of company and a need to save space inside. It was also where my granddaddy would come in from the farm and strip and streak to the bathroom! (We never saw that...so I'm not even 100% sure it's true. I know it stunk like crazy when he came in though...he was a hog farmer.) Here are the barns off to the side of the house.
At some point in life we all had the nickname "toot-tail". It typically referred to the kids that happened to be the youngest. Thank God for Krisie and then Jason, who inherited the nickname shortly after me. Kara won the title in 1982. (There were only 4 grandchildren.)
Over the years, we learned the "Granny-isms"...like "toot-tail" meant littlest kid.
Granny was allergic to everything. As a matter of fact, I remember being really small and seeing her in the hospital. I don't remember much, but I do know my mom was very upset and scared she would die then. I'm not sure if she was ever diagnosed with asthma or if she ever actually had anaphylactic shock, but perfume, hairspray, lotions, etc were forbidden.
Actually, upon our arrival, I'm almost positive granddaddy gave us the sniff test. "You gonna have ta go warsh that plug-a-muckem off for you give granny a hug." What the...what did he just say? Yeah..."plug-a-muckem" was the granny-ism for anything smelly. It plugs up your....I don't know. Anyway, it makes her sneeze and wheeze and that's what she nicknamed it. So on occasion, we use the granny-ism for anything super smelly....plug-a-muckem.
Many meals were shared around her table. We all squeezed in there so tight you couldn't put a hair in between...and the plates teetered on the edge of the table because the table was full (I mean full) of food. I honestly don't know if I can even name all of it, but a large majority of veggies came from the garden she kept on the opposite side of the house (barns were on the left and the garden was on the right.) I'm so glad she taught my mom how to garden, but I do wish I had granny's green thumb. Anyway, my granddaddy would bless the food and I wouldn't do this post any service if I didn't mention that his voice was deep and loud. His prayer every single solitary time started with "We thank Thee our loving heavenly Father for the bountiful table set before us...." True story. We ate and laughed and shared stories because we didn't drive to Kevil much...maybe twice or three times a year. So we liked catching up and that usually happened while eating because that was the only time everyone was together. "Good stuff Maynard!" someone would say while we were eating. Wait. Who's that? No one here has the name Maynard. I'm not really sure where that ism came from, but if something tastes good at Granny's house that's what you say. Don't know who you are or where you are Mr. Maynard....but apparently you are there in spirit and make the food taste good (?)
Do you know why you say "bless you" when someone sneezes? It's a drawn out story of life and health. It's a common courtesy to say it when you hear a sneeze. This granny-ism is one for the sneeze. I inherited my granny's allergies to nature. Shuck corn...sneeze, mow the yard...sneeze, basically anything outside...sneeze. So, when you help on the farm guess what? Sneeze. "Scat Tom your tail's on fire!" Who's What is on fire? Where did this come from? I literally just Googled it and it is an old Appalachian saying for a sneezer! Who knew!? Seems like a lot more syllables than Bless You, but not nearly as fun. Each subsequent sneeze however, resulted in a "scat"....which to me means go away toot-tail, but apparently at Granny's it continues to mean bless you. (Maybe a little confusing to a kid.)
Oh boy. Dare I bring home a boyfriend? Not sure it was the best idea, but I did and I know Amanda did (she's my aunt that's only 4 years older...my mom's youngest sister.) The purpose of an introduction is to tell the boyfriend granny's name and to tell granny the boyfriend's name. I don't know why, why, why....but in my granny's mind every boyfriend's name was "Goober John". Ugh. How embarrassing. Yep. Let's just say the boyfriend doesn't go to Kevil (Good choice), but you'd like to talk on the phone. Ok, small farm house....ONE phone. The phone was on the kitchen wall with a cord that would reach (I'm not kidding) anywhere on the first level of the house no matter what corner you might be crouching in. The cord was so long (and so tangled) that your lazy butt could be on the living room couch and granny could bring you the phone! So, what happens is Greg calls me at Granny's house and she has the receiver in her hand and yells at me wherever I'm at in the house..."Hey Jana!? Goober John is on the phone!" O.My.Word. for real.
Last one...the house isn't big. I've already described the first floor. The upstairs was literally 2 bedrooms. No bathrooms, just go upstairs and there are 2 bedrooms, no doors. Not really a lot of places to hide or get lost, but let's say you needed granny for something. What do you do? You say her name while walking through the house looking for her. "Graaannnnyyyy...." then you hear a "yoooooowhooooo". Not "I'm in the bedroom" or "I'm in the bathroom" or "I'm upstairs getting something". It's "yoo-who"....the granny version of marco polo.
The photos in this blog were taken before the tornado of 2012 destroyed the barn by the house and both hog barns. The buyers of the farm still use the land for corn and soy beans. The little house is still there! The upstairs was lifted from the house and in a nearby field, but has since been repaired. Kara and I drove out to the farm the day of the funeral and literally went down memory lane. I love these -isms. They are forever in our family. My maternal grandparents were faithful Christians. I must give them credit here for instilling the faith in my mom, who passed it on to me so that I can share it with you and my own children.
Hope you enjoyed the "Granny-isms"...
Have a very blessed day!
Jana
