Summer Time, And The Easy Is Living! Recollections Of A Redneck.
When I was just a young boy my parents would drive the 6 hrs from our home in West Tennessee to Nashville to drop us kids for a week of fun with my father's parents who were by default my paternal grandparents. To say my grandmother payed attention to details would be a giant exaggeration. I was a very finicky eater when young and she knew I could eat tuna and very few other items which did not contain chocolate. She was a wonderful grandmother who would tell stories, especially ghost stories to the three of us as we would try to fall asleep during the hot summer months upstairs in their modest home which had no air-conditioning so windows would be opened as widely as practicable without the benefit of screens to keep the flies out. Early in the evening the breeze would feel as though it had come strait from Hell. Clean sheets feel wonderfully cool as you slide between them and the pillow seemed to trap a cool-well just under it and my older brother and I would compete to ...