Journal of a Living Lady #370
Nancy White Kelly

The dogwoods are blossoming. I am coming alive again after a seemingly long, depressing gray winter. Friends are helping.

One special couple took Buddy and me to a rousing musical in Franklin to celebrate our 45th anniversary. Another friend, with Buddy’s blessing, will soon be taking me bass fishing on Lake Chatuge.

This reminds me of childhood days. My daddy would awaken me at three a.m., throw some minnows in a rusty bucket and head to Lake Tunica in Mississippi. He could have taken any of my three brothers, but he took me.

My daddy and I were always close, but our fishing adventures strengthened that bond. Catching fish was sort of irrelevant. Being with my jovial father as the sun rose at daybreak is the fond memory that remains.

My oldest brother Charles is the family fishing fanatic. His love of fishing comes in a close second to his enthusiasm for hunting. In his living room, dining room, and every other room wife number five permits hang trophies from years of fishing and hunting. Actually he has married only four women. One he married twice. The last one, a keeper for twenty years, obviously loves my brother dearly.
I asked her once how many more animals Charles would have to hang in the house before she threw him out. She said she didn’t know for sure, but that the experiment was almost complete.

Everybody loves Charles. He is a comedian on par with the late Jerry Clower. He entertains us all with exaggerated tales from his fishing and hunting escapades. And, of course, he has a huge repertoire of jokes. This is one of many.

Two fellows are out fishing on the lake. A hearse and funeral procession passed the boat on a nearby road. One of the fellows stood up and held his fishing hat over his heart as the hearse passed. His buddy commented, "Golly, Harry, that was really nice and respectful."

Harry replied, "Well after all, we were married for 40 years."

nancyk@windstream.net