folo

Sorry about being scarce around here today — my big project this week is prepping to make the long-hoped-for switch from this Microsoft POS to a Mac, and of course confusion such as that involves for a ‘puter-trog like me is time-consuming. However, I just received from a Kentucky-bred friend this gratitude for Kycol’s find on mountain-talk to share with him and you:

Just wanted to say how much I enjoyed the KY-isms, which had the effect of yanking me instantly back to Poverty Knoll, as my daddy called the little hilltop farm where we sharecropped in Jessamine County.

And reminded me of a phone call last week from beloved old cuzzin Esther Wells in Louisville, my touchstone to the remainders of my mother’s (her Aunt Stephena’s) family. She’s 86 now, and in three days’ time last week lost her only sister — 95-year-old Tootie — and beloved nephew, Elbert Jr., 63, who learned out of the blue a few months ago that he had pancreatic cancer. Well, we both cried a bit and remembered some good things about both of them, and then Esther couldn’t help herself. As always, she just had to tell me one of her versions of a “risque” joke, to wit:

Two old fellas were talking about private matters, and one finally got up courage to ask the other, “Do you still have, um, climax?”

The other one thought for a minute, then said, “No — I think I have State Farm.”

Lord, let me go down that darkening path like Esther!!

Amen.