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I am away from home. Today I ate sausage, biscuits, eggs, and grits, and I thought I would die from happiness. I am in a new city. I am somewhere else, listening to DP read his fiction.  Usually I am the one who reads in front of others, but this time it is DP.

We both tell each other that we are better than the other readers. Usually we are right.

I may hate many things about the South, but I knew how to dress for this reading. I often don’t know how to dress. But I nailed it this time. The bohemian South. I even wore a fucking dress. I was reminded of what my best friend’s mother told me about getting  into a car wearing a dress: butt first then legs getting in; legs first then butt getting out. You’d think Maternal Clause would have taught me that, but she didn’t. Maybe she favored longer skirts.

I’ve been with DP long enough that I don’t mind wearing dresses for him although I hate wearing dresses. See above. Does anyone want to think about how they get out of a car? See why I wear pants or shorts?

DP read like a dream. The boy can write. I have always thought he should be a Southern writer. His literary heroes are Flannery O’Connor and Lewis Nordan. And I was the adoring fan, listening to him in the audience. Adoring him. But he told people that I was an author too, even though I introduced myself as his groupie. Because it cracked me up. Because I knew the truth. Because I was looking up at Jupiter (?) from the bar patio as the darkness fell and remembering what is was like to read in the late Southern light. I have published more than he has. Not that I have to, but I don’t feel like I have anything to prove. I am not a better writer than he is, just more widely published. I am not a worse writer than he is either.

It was a good evening. What do you know without trying?

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12 responses to “Home

  1. I know without trying that of course Maternal Clause favoured longer skirts. Duh! And I know without trying that it’s butt/first legs/second getting in, legs/first butt/second getting out. That’s not because of my short dresses. All Old People know this. It’s how you keep from putting your back out. OK?

    • I could see that too. Funny story about our cousin who is a religious figure. She moved from Southern California to New York to eventually be ordained.

      Cousin complains about the cold when she comes to visit for Thanksgiving.
      Maternal Clause (with semi-mock severity) says, “Well, if you wore longer skirts you wouldn’t be so cold!”

      • Another funny story: Maternal Clause was helping not-yet-Dr Cougar to get ready to move to faraway country where Mr Dr Cougar (what do we call him already?) had his first academic appointment. “Now that you are going to be a faculty wife,” she prodded “are you going to stop wearing these sausage dresses?” She looked disapprovingly at not-yet-Dr Cougar’s long, and generally-referred-to-as-attractive legs.

        Well, I certainly disappointed her on that front. I can actually still hear Maternal Clause in my head every time i get dressed saying “Cougar, you are too old to wear dresses that short!!!”

        Religious figure cousin looks hot in short skirts. Just doesn’t feel quite as warm.

      • I don’t add bananas to pb&h sandwiches (something about bread and bananas is too much soft starch for me or something), but I do skewer the poor dears, roll them in a PB&H mixture, then rice krispies, and then freeze ’em. The bananas, not the sandwiches.

        I also like peanut butter and pickle sandwiches, as long as the pb is smooth and the pickles are refrigerated dill (Claussen, for preference).

  2. OMG the bananas and Rice Krispies sound good. Pickles though? Really? Maternal Clause liked fried bananas. Me too.

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