Journal of a Living Lady #273
Nancy White Kelly
Buddy has picked his share of cotton. In his youth, he plowed unending delta miles. These weren’t sky miles. For Buddy, his unceremonious view on most days was nothing more than the two humps of a
Opposites do attract. I wanted
Buddy graduated in the bot
After high school, Buddy joined the navy rather than be drafted. He spend four years on a naval destroyer, distilling water in inhumane heat, longing for the green, green grass of America. The day he signed out was one of the happiest days of his life.
Unfortunately, the money he had sent ahead for schooling wasn’t there when he arrived home from the service. It was probably the biggest disappointment of his life. With borrowed money, he headed
Buddy was employed as an aviation mechanic for Eastern Airlines when we m
Buddy and I are a compromise of life-styles. I enjoy books. He likes engines. I enjoy theatre. He endures it.
No shot-gun adorns the back windshield of Buddy’s truck, but he can use one if necessary. My little pistol suits me just fine. I carry it in a case, just in case.
We are equally proud of our southern heritage, mine