The Appalachian Life

I am reading a book by Deany Brady entitled "An Appalachian Childhood". It is a collection of her memories of being born and raised in the backwoods of Appalachia, dirt poor but well loved.

Some of the things she says reminds me of my life - even now. For instance, she explains that dinner is what most call lunch and supper is what some call dinner. Still that way at my house.

Another thing she talks about is the youngest child is called "the baby" until another baby arrives. That was always true in my family. In fact, my nephew was "the baby" until he was six years old and my niece and my daughter arrived within three months of each other. If we had a family gathering, they might be called "the babies", but usually they were referred to by name so as not to confuse everyone.

She talks about "pilot snakes". That rang a vague bell and Husband says he remembers snakes being called that. But we didn't know what kind of snake that was. So I looked it up. I'm  no clearer than before. Some sites say it is another name for copperheads. Others say it is a chicken snake or a rat snake, and they got the name "pilot" because they made way, or piloted a way, for poisonous snakes to come in.

Mrs. Brady is a few years older than my mother. We spoke on the telephone, revealing that she remembers my mother in school. Mother remembered her and her sister, too.

 My mother's family was far from rich, but they were much better off financially than Mrs. Brady's family. As far as I know, my mother never went hungry or without clothes and shoes. They lived in fairly decent dwellings, and I believe, as an only child, she was a bit spoiled. Mrs. Brady's childhood was one that many people envision when talking bout the "old" Appalachia - severe poverty and struggle.

When I spoke as a guest author at a book club, with the book discussion surrounding my book, "Out on a Limb of the Family Tree", someone pointed out I didn't mention this terrible poverty in my book. I did, but not overtly, because my family did not suffer in this way.

You really do  have to write what you know.

Mrs. Brady lives in San Francisco with her daughter. I haven't finished the book, but it will be interesting to find out how she got from here to there.

Cuss Words - Appalachian Style

I swan. I ain't never been so all fired mad in all my life. That dad gum, fool ridden, jar head of a son-in-law has done riled up all the devilment in me today.

That was a fine example, wasn't it? I used son-in-law because I don't have one, and figured no one would start to wonder who I was mad at.

When my grandfather would be doing something "tedjus" and his fingers would slip, you could hear him mutter, "Sh-tucks."

My grandmother on the other side just came right out and said it.

Other Appalachian cuss words I can recall: Carnsarned, dad blamed, gosh darn, backass-eards, (long a), I swany, tarnation, and thunderation.

There are probably hundreds more. If you know them, let me know. I could sure use a few more after today:

There was a spider biggern all git out on the fireplace. Thought Daughter was going to have to be hospitalized.

Husband put the garbage out in the truck (again) and the bear emptied the truck (again). Why does Husband keep doing this....

The fox came 'round the front of the house and then went trotting up the road! Don't he know  he's gonna git his fool self kilt?

Daughter picked up a flower pot off the sidewalk to put back on the porch and two scorpions fell at her feet. Hospitalization # 2.

While we were eating lunch, Molly, our dog, came ambling in the kitchen with the cat's tent wrapped around her neck. She walked up to me, stopped, and just stared at me. I guess she knew who to come to when trouble had her by the throat.

I jammed my ring finger into the chair, ripping the  nail way below the white, into the nail bed.

That right there is worth at least four of them Appalachian cuss words.

Don't hesitate to write or call 'em in.

Out on a Limb of the Family Tree

That's the title of a new book I have coming out.

I started writing this book in 1997. I thought it was just another short story (at that time, I'd never written a book). That 'short story' is the prologue to the book.

I love humor, almost all kinds, which maybe makes me a real sicko, I don't know.

But when I started writing this story, it had a humorous tone. Then, a few years ago, I got the bright idea of asking people for 'blonde moment' stories about themselves. You would NOT believe the stuff some people told me! I mean, really! But there were some I could actually, you know, write down without dying of embarrassment, and those I used.

That worked pretty well, so I began to ask people for stories from their families that touch them in some way. Humorous, poignant, haunting, profound. And I got a dozen or so really, really good ones. They gave me permission to 'wrap them up in fiction' and use them. Some are just a line or two, some a complete story. What a blessing!

I've been collecting old fashioned names for over ten years and that has been really fun. It's unbelievable what folks name their children. And I don't mean Dweezle and Apple and all the 'new fangle' foolishness. I mean the Victorian weirdness that was - well - weird.

And, of course, names come and go, too. So I used some out of fashion names that we don't hear much anymore.

I've already had one strange experience with a name that I 'made up' and a person saw it on the back of the book and told me that was his great-great-grandmother's name. And I don't even know this guy!

Fact, is indeed, stranger than fiction.

So, I hope you find it in your heart and pockets to purchase this book. Missouri Pickett is the matriarch of this Appalachian family from Sweeetapple, Georgia. Join her and her crazy family for stories that I hope will make you laugh yourselves silly.

BOOK SIGNINGS: November 16, Yawn's Books and More, Canton, Georgia from 5:30 to 7:30 pm AND November 17, Gilmer County Library, Ellijay, Georgia from 3:00 to 5:00 pm