grace grits and gardening

ramblings from an arkansas farm girl

Seven Signs You Might Be From Arkansas

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Since I’m headed to the great state of Arkansas today, I offer you this timely reminder of what makes us unique. In keeping with the spirit of the Write Tribe seven day blog challenge (prompt: the number seven), below are seven signs you might be from Arkansas if…

(in no particular order)

1. At the end of each week your family’s heaping mound of dirty laundry easily sorts into three piles—whites, darks and Razorback red. Proudly, the Razorback load is always the largest.

2. You give directions based on minutes with no regard to mileage. Jonesboro is about an hour from Osceola. 

3. Your momma taught you to never wear white after the opening day of dove season. Camouflage is acceptable any time of year.

4. You eat dinner for lunch and supper for dinner. Both include ranch dressing.

5. You become absolutely giddy at the smell of crop defoliant.

6. You have a cousin or uncle or brother or husband or child or all-of-the-above named Bubba. Or Bubba, Jr.

7. Calling the hogs makes you downright teary-eyed.

Woooo Pig Sooie!

talya

 
Musical Pairing:
 
Arkansas Fight! performed by the Symphony of Northwest Arkansas
 
This was written for the Write Tribe Festival of Words.  Prompt: the number Seven.
If you missed my prior ‘number seven’ posts, click on the links below!
(only two more to go)

Seven Shades of Yoga

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morgueFile Kakisky
Within seven seconds, I chose yoga over Facebook. I hadn’t been to yoga in weeks and was spending way too much time with the other. But I’d been busy. Writing, I’m alway writing. And last month I had strep throat that lingered. Plus we just returned from vacation. 
Yada, yada. 
Excuses, excuses. 
Seven minutes later, I was out the door and into the humid morning wearing my favorite yoga pants that somehow seemed smaller.
After a seven minute drive, I signed my name on the clipboard. “Don’t worry if I spend the whole class in child’s pose—just ignore me, I’m rusty.” I explained to Michelle who teaches Explore the Body. I needed to explore my body. We had become strangers as of late.
Michelle laughed and promised to call an ambulance if I stopped breathing altogether. She’s nice that way.
I sorted through at least seven yoga mats to uncover mine, dusty and abandoned, propped in the corner where I left it in July.  
Seven minutes into shoulder stretches, I felt the squeeze of a Charley Horse building through my arm. I adjusted. Charley eventually released his vise-grip hold on my invisible bicep, but not until I reverted to steady pre-labor breathing exercises. 
Seven minutes later, I floundered into and out of Thread the Needle Zen Pose. But I did it. Sort of.
Seven more poses, and my shoulders loosened, my mind cleared, the nerve endings in my body tingled. 
Seven cleansing breaths into Uttanasana, I could bend near enough to the ground to notice my shabby toe polish. 
Seven shades into final Shivasana, I remembered why I love yoga. 
Namaste.
talya
This was written for the Write Tribe Festival of Words. Prompt: the number Seven.

AT&T Customer Service Woes

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This was written for The Writers’ Post Bog Hop #90 hosted by Cattitude and Gratitute – prompt: The Telephone…

Welcome to AT&T U-Verse. To continue in English, press 1. Para Espanol, press 2. For a list of other languages, press 3.

3. Holy Crap! (Hang up. Re-dial…)

Welcome to AT&T U-Verse. To continue in English, press 1. Para Espanol…

1.

Thank you. I see you are calling from 214-xxx-0000. Is this the phone number listed on your AT&T account? Press 1 for yes. 2 for no.

1.

Thank you. To better direct your call, I’ll need your nine digit ban number. Press or say your ban number. Or say “I don’t know it.”

I don’t know it. (Ban number? What the heck’s a ban number?)

Okay let me look it up.

(annoying outer space music much like background noise from a 1982 Atari game…)

Now, I’ll need to get a bit of information to better direct your call. Say the reason for your call. You may say something like “I’d like to make a payment” or “I’d like to check my balance.”

I’d like to speak to a human being. 

Sorry? I didn’t get that. I’ll need a general reason for your call. To make a payment press or say 1, for account balance press or say 2, for technical support press or say 3, for new service press or say 4, for a change of service press or say 5, for order status press or say 6, for billing press or say 7, to disconnect service press or say 8.

I’d. Like. To. Speak. To. A. Human. Being. (I’m tempted to say EIGHT and be done with it…)

That department is closed. Please call back during regular business hours.  Thank you for using AT&T.

(dial tone)

talya
Grace Grits and Gardening

One Ringy Dingy

Food. Farm. Garden. Life.

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