These are stories about my father. He's passed now, but he took great pleasure reading his almost true tall tales. Many of the stories feature my grandfather, who Eddie looked up to and admired. I think you'll enjoy them too.
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How do you handle a crazy jackass? Eddie knows. If you ask Eddie, he'll tell you pigs can fly and show you where to find real mammoth bones. Take his word for it when he tells you always to bet on the bear. These are things he learned while dreaming of becoming a cowboy in West Texas during the Depression. Through Eddie, the hero of "Tales of a Texas Boy," we find that growing up is less about maturity and more about roping your dreams. Hold on tight. It's a bumpy ride. A wonderful read for anyone who enjoys books like "Little House on the Prairie" or "Tom Sawyer." A great bit of nostalgia for seniors, too.
The Corn Patch Incident
Barn raising is a community affair that takes place in almost all rural societies across the country. In Texas, nearly every community event also includes a barbecue, although it’s sometimes by default. The kids helped out by gathering additions to the dinner.
I grabbed Sister, who’s really Dorothy, but we called her Sister. Anyways, we took off to the corn field and proceeded to pull the ripe ears off the stalks. It takes the right eye to get the ripe ones. Some folks have to peel back the silk from the ear and take a look. Me and Sister had done this so many times, we could tell just by how fat the ear looked. So, we were movin’ along pretty good and had about half the ears Ma said to get.
I looked down the row to see how far we’d got when I saw a skunk traipsin’ up toward me. First off, I wondered what the little polecat was doin’ out in the middle of the day. Most often, they hunt at night. I stopped quick and looked around to see where Sister was. I couldn’t see her, so I decided just to let her know.
“Hey, Sister. There’s a skunk up here, so don’t go up the row no more,” I yelled.
“What row, Eddie?” she hollered back.
“The row I’m on,” I answered and wondered why she couldn’t have figured that out herself.
“Which row, I say-ed?” she asked again, soundin’ a little disgusted now.
“This darn row!” Why didn’t the fool girl know which row I was on? Then it occurred to me I didn’t know where she was neither.
“Say somethin’ again and I’ll find you.”
“I’m heeere!” she sang out.
I could tell she was in front of me and a row or two south. I looked back to where the skunk was, but he’d disappeared. It came to me she might be close to where the skunk was by this time.
“Look out for the skunk,” I called out.
“What skunk?” Sometimes I wondered if she thought anything out.
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