grace grits and gardening

ramblings from an arkansas farm girl

Project Laundry

By

After a fun-filled week at the lake, my niece and I are spending several days at my mother’s house in Osceola (aka the Bat Cave). After a week at the lake, the dirty laundry is piled high. Lake dirty. Sandy and damp and pre-mildewy. Sunday night after sorting everything into giant mounds, we began the task of washing clothes.
Two hours later over take-out pizza, we came to the sober realization the dryer wasn’t working properly – heating but not tumbling, the clothes steamy but still wet. The dryer is ancient so it was no wonder. But could there be a worse time for a breakdown? After a week at the lake…

Monday morning sporting my cleanest dirty shirt and shorts, I loaded up two enormous overflowing baskets of clothes and set out to find a laundromat in Osceola. It’s been years since I’ve been to a laundromat. College days maybe?
I found one fairly easily.  Unloading the baskets, I was already glowing from the early morning humidity. Trying to remain vigilant and acutely aware that the town’s landscape has changed drastically from my day, I had one of those moments. Those life-flashing-before-my-eyes moments. It happened when I realized the laundromat was wedged between the former Jr Food Mart we frequented as teenagers and the dilapidated abandoned Sonic we circled on summer nights in high school. I saw my younger self parked in my yellow Corvette, carefree, laughing and flirting with cute Osceola boys. Eating a #2 with tots before irritable bowel syndrome clamped my stomach like a vise. Back when Momma’s dryer was new.
Thirty-three years later at 7:15 a.m., I am unshowered and dragging smelly clothes baskets from my hail-ridden vehicle into the sauna-like laundromat. The super cool new Sonic sits on the edge of town holding no memories for me. My stomach is bloated from eating too much gluten… 
Inside, there was only one patron. Chatty Cathy. With several machines already humming and a load folded on the wooden table, she had obviously been there a while. We became instant friends bonded by no home appliances and reeking clothing. Taking me under her tatted wing she pointed out the best washing machines and which specific dryers to avoid. I became her project.
Chatty Cathy
Chatty Cathy: None of them dryers work very good. They only cost fifty cents but that won’t do nothing. You’ll be feeding quarters in all mornin’.
Sweaty Talya: (oh goodie.) Ok well I have a roll of quarters and one load is already partially dry so maybe it won’t be so bad.
Chatty Cathy: Nope. You’ll be needin all them quarters.
Sweaty Talya: (why oh why did I tell her about my whole roll of quarters? Stupid….)
Chatty Cathy: I only do laundry onct a month. That’s today.
Sweaty Talya: Once a month? Wow, you must have a lot of laundry.
Chatty Cathy: You know it girl. You from Texas? (she could read. I was wearing my Dallas Mavericks t-shirt for the third day in a row.)
Sweaty Talya: Yes, Dallas.
Chatty Cathy: DAL-LAS!!! Ya-hoo!!!(very very excited) Never been there but I was born in El Paso.
Sweaty Talya: Oh yeah? I’ve been there a few times.
Chatty Cathy: I don’t remember it. Moved when I was 3. Live in Luxora now. (hyena laughing here….)
Sweaty Talya:  Oh. Well I’m actually from Osceola. Just visiting my mom.
Chatty Cathy: Where’s she live?
Sweaty Talya: (oh like I’m gonna tell you.) Just down the road. Not far.
Chatty Cathy: Well that’s good.
Sweaty Talya: Did you graduate from Luxora High School? (did she graduate? please, please don’t say Rivercrest…)
Chatty Cathy: Nope. Caraway High School. Lived in Caraway then. (Lighting up a cigarette.)
Sweaty Talya: What year?
Chatty Cathy: 1980.
Sweaty Talya: (omg.) Really? Me too. (seriously? we are the same age???)
Chatty Cathy: WE DONE TURNED 50 THIS YEAR! CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?? (more hyena laughing with arms swinging overhead like doing the wave at a football game…)
Sweaty Talya: (hell) No I cannot. (I was shocked.)
Chatty Cathy: You don’t mind if I smoke do you, I should of axed you already.
Sweaty Talya: Of course not. (totally adding to the ambiance.)
I considered having a cigarette too at this point… but I remembered I don’t smoke.
Two and a half scorching hot hours later, I finished the laundry, drove straight to the super new Sonic for a Route 44 iced tea, very grateful for air conditioning and excellent dental care. Thankful for my life.
I suppose Chatty Cathy went back to Luxora.
interesting….
sweaty talya

Musical Pairing

If Heaven Ain’t A lot Like Dixie, Hank Williams, Jr.

Losing Myself…again.

By

Lake Norfork
Day Two….
Sandy Island, near Jordan

Kelsey and I set out on the jet ski to buy beer, headed for Tracey Marina. I thought I knew how to get to Tracey Marina from the Sandy Island… turns out not.
Everyone else stayed on the island and prepared for our annual gritty hot dog roast. 
The water was RoUgHeR than I expected. Hanging on for dear life with every muscle strained in a full core death grip around Kelsey, she flew full throttle over the waves as I screamed like a little baby girl, my head tucked down buried in her life vest. With Kelsey laughing… laughing until the jet ski started shrilly beeping. Beeping LO FUEL LEVEL. Over and over. With Tracey Marina no where to be seen. 
No gas, no sunscreen, no cell phone….
Concentrating on bracing and breathing while shrieking left little time to pay attention to the surrounding landmarks. Eventually from the back of the speeding bullet jet ski I looked up to see nothing familiar….Everything looked different. We may as well have been on Bull Shoals Lake…
** Beep*********** LO FUEL LEVEL ** 
We flagged down a slow pontoon with two men aboard.
Us: Where is the nearest marina? We are almost out of gas.
Two Men: Follow us, we are headed there. It’s around the corner.

Suddenly, everything came clearly into view and I spotted Robinson Point! While I was trying not to die, we had jetted all the way back to the main channel. 
We followed the Two Pontoon Men who were going a leisurely 5 mph farmer pace. They chatted with each other. We broiled. Our jet ski continued to beep and screech periodically. Hopefully they would notice when we completely ran out of gas and fell over into the water…
They led us to Blue Heaven Resort where we had been yesterday on our ‘three hour tour’… Trolling around to the opposite side; however, was Buzzard’s Roost Marina, just where it was supposed to be. Just where it was yesterday. Just where it has been my entire life.
Turns out the Two Pontoon Men worked at Buzzard’s Roost. But unfortunately the gas pumps temporarily didn’t work. So we waited, along with a talkative David Allen Coe-looking customer, also on a jet ski. Our new friend. 
We explained our situation to the Pontoon Driving Buzzard’s Roost Man while waiting for gas…
Me: We were trying to find Tracey Marina to buy beer.
Buzzard Man: You are a long way from there.
Me: Yeah. We came here yesterday but thought it was Blue Heaven Resort.
Buzzard Man: Blue Heaven is the private dock over there (pointing). This part is still Buzzard’s Roost.
David Allen Coe Man: You have to be lost to even find this place.
Me: I totally agree! (bonding with Mr. Coe)
Buzzard Man: Pumps are working, you want it filled up?
Me: How much will it cost to fill this up?
Buzzard Man: Probably about $50.
Me: I only have $40. Don’t go a penny over $40 or I’ll have to come back tomorrow to pay.
Buzzard Man: Yeah, like you could find us again.
Me: That’s just rude.
Buzzard Man: But true. (laughing…) What about your beer?
Me: Yeah I need one. But I need gas worse.
FINALLY, we made it back to the Sandy Island with no problems – perfect navigation on my part. ThankYouVeryMuch. No sight of Tracey Marina. Hot dogs had been eaten, smores eaten, everyone ready to pack up and leave the Sandy Island.
Everyone: Where have you been?
Me: Buzzard’s Roost.
Everyone: (Perplexed faces…)
Kelsey: We had another adventure.
Momma: You know I just remembered we could have bought beer right around that corner. Pointing….
talya
Musical Pairings:
“When you lose yourself, you find a piece of Paradise.” Knee Deep – Zac Brown Band

Lake Child

By

Momma, Daddy, Me, Staci
at the lake
In our family we count down to the lake much like Christmas. Only its better because there’s no shopping stress. Throw some flip flops, t-shirts and bathings suits in a bag and hit the road. There is nothing better.
Of course bathing suit shopping can be extremely stressful, but I don’t much worry about that any more either…
All the kids in our family were born and bred to be lake rats, just as they were raised to love the Razorbacks, country music and cotton.  It takes a special combination of nature and nurture to fully grow into a lake child.

No more sleeps!!!

talya

Musical Pairings:
Let Your Love Flow, Bellamy Brothers

Zach & Taylor

Kelsey & Tate

I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore. . . .I hear it in the deep heart’s core. – William Butler Yeats

Food. Farm. Garden. Life.

THANKS FOR READING!