Want some Southern Hospitatilty, visit The BBQ Shack

This morning I checked my Google Analytics account. In the past week I have had visitors from 12 different countries. They are: USA, Canada, United Kingdom, Pakistan, Italy, Slovenia, Australia, Singapore, Turkey, Japan, South Africa and Russia. I want to thank you all for visiting and I hope you enjoy the site.

I want to tell all of you to come to the Dothan Alabama area to visit the BBQ Shack at the corner of Fortner and Brannon Stand Roads. I have been amazed by the generosity from the sweet owners Jackson and Rhonda, who have provided us with plenty of food during my mother in law's death.

We are members of a local community website called WiregrassLive.com. We barely know each other away from the site. I have only seen them a handful of times. But if you are from anywhere in the world and want to know what southern hospitality is all about, visit them. I am sure Rhonda and Jackson would take the time to get to know you and feed you.

I have to stop for a second. We never really asked for anything, they just kept bringing food and hugs. It means so much with a death in the family.

Okay, I am back now. Get choked up still. I lied, we did ask for something. Another banana pudding. But they would not allow us to pay for it.

The banana pudding is excellent and I also got to try the strawberry shortcake for the first time, also very very good.

I need to wrap this up, too many things to do. If you want some good Bar-B-Que and southern hospitality, visit the BBQ Shack.

The Morning After

He opened his eyes and stretched his whole body across the bed. The smell of coffee was in the air. He looked over and saw a steaming mug on the nightstand. He smiled; she was so good to him. He sat up in bed and grabbed the cup of coffee, inhaled its rich aroma and took a sip. It was still warm. He looked over at her sitting at the desk briskly typing on the computer keyboard.

“Good morning” she said, without looking up.

“Good morning to you” he replied with a smile.

After a few more pecks at the keyboard and a couple of clicks with the mouse, she stood from the desk and walked over to the bed. She was wearing the short satin robe he had purchased from Joyce’s Touch of Class. No special occasion, just because he loved her. He watched her every move. The robe hung low off her left shoulder, exposing her soft, supple skin. She noticed and gave a demure smile.

“Thanks for last night” he said.

“Oh, thank you” she said, sliding into bed with him. She snuggled up beside him and laid her head on his shoulder. “I was just answering a few congratulatory emails. Were you feeling vigorous last night?”

“I’ll admit I was feeling great,” he answered.

“I’m very proud of you, Mister Mayor,” she said while running her hand across his massive chest. She traced her fingertips lightly around the outline of his pectoral muscles, over to his arm, where she squeezed his hard bicep, breathing deep the musk of masculinity.

“Thanks baby. I am ready to start today. I slept so well for being so excited. First thing to do is work on the taxes. That is going to completely change Dothan for years to come. Why should our residents pay a sales tax where other states do not? We ARE going to stimulate this economy. I love Dothan.”

“Have I ever told you how important you are to the democratic process?” She asked.

“Hmmm, let me think about that for a moment…only everyday.” He answered.

She giggled, “Oh stop it. Who else in this town listens to their constituents like you do? No one else uses their own lunchtime as a forum for the citizens. No one else has the ideas like yours for reducing taxes. While others are mired in the status quo, you have the wherewithal to make Dothan a better place for the people. Yesterday, sixty seven percent of this city’s voters decided they want a man with a vision.”

“Making Dothan Better For The People” he said sternly, reiterating his campaign slogan.

She looked up at him. He ran his fingers through her hair and gently held her face as he kissed her. “I love you Debra,” he said.

“I love you too, Keith.”

Thanks Aerial Angels

You gave me the best moment of the weekend of the Father Daughter dance with my granddaughter Shyanne. Shy’s dad could not make it to the dance, so I was standing in, I am ToppaTom. I was supposed to be Poppa Tom, but Toppa was what she said when she was little and I like it. I never had children, I got Shy as a granddaughter when I married Kay (Grandmommie).

Saturday afternoon Grandmommie got her all dressed up for the dance. Shy looked like Cinderella. Then we went out for our night at the ball. I told Grandmommie I would try not to cry. She ran and danced with her friends all night, but found time for a couple of slow dances with me. We had the best time.

Sunday afternoon we went to Inman Park in Atlanta for the Street Festival. We sat on the grass in the park for the Aerial Angels show. Spike, Flame and Mimi put on a great show and Shy loved it. She kept talking about Spike.

Later in the day Shy wanted to go back to the park to climb on the playground equipment. We stopped by the Aerial Angels and talked to Flame while they were taking a break. As we made our way to the playground I stopped and asked Shy if she wanted a picture. Yes she did. I got a picture of Shy and Spike flexing their muscles. I thanked Spike and we started walking to the playground. Shy squeezed my hand and stopped. She said “Thanks ToppaTom”, and I said “You are so welcome”. She surprised me. I had no idea the time with Spike was so special.

That was the one moment from the whole weekend that will really stick with me. Shy saw that girls could grow up to be strong and do anything they want. I helped her get a little time and picture with someone she looked up to.

A few days later I still think about what she said, “Thanks ToppaTom”, and how much that meant to her. That is one of those little memories that was just for the two of us. It makes me want to cry thinking that I was part of that special moment with her. Years from now everyone will remember the dance. I think that Shy and I will be the only ones who remember the time she had her picture made with Spike and how much it meant to the cutest little girl in the world.

Musical Chairs

All hell broke loose at Hooters Restaurant in Dothan this Friday. A not so friendly game of musical chairs turned ugly quickly. Whimlady and Chig were all set to begin their game when a large blue Toyota pickup crashed through the front door. RehobethRebel jumped out of the truck brandishing a large King James Version of the Holy Bible and began calling everyone sinners. A Hooters waitress attempted to ask RehobethRebel to leave, but he knocked her up side the head with the bible. He was jumped by several other Hooters waitresses.

In the confusion Whimlady tried to reach the musical chair by kicking Chig in the groin. She screamed in agony. Chig reached into his wrestling trunks, although wrestling trunks were not mandatory, he just thought they made his butt look good, and pulled out an extra large cowbell. Chig slammed the cowbell on Whim’s head and began beating on it with a drum stick.

Guest referee Dishwater was overcome with laughter by all of the events. When his back was turned, the other guest referee CCDollar stole a handful of his chicken wings and began nibbling on them. Dishwater caught the thievery out of the corner of his eye, turned and kicked CCDollar in the groin. This made CCDollar spew the contents of his mouth in Dishwater’s face, blinding him. Dishwater felt for a bottle of wing sauce on the bar and squirted it at CCDollar. CCDollar pulled a waitress in front of him to block the sauce, which covered her heaving bosom. She turned and kicked CCDollar in the groin.

Csolo ran to the waitress and attempted to clean her by wiping a chicken wing through her cleavage and sucking the sauce from the wing. She smiled at Csolo and he had another heart attack.

Suddenly a shot rang out. Everyone turned to see Sheriff Quilla with a gun. She announced that she was locking the place down and told everyone to behave. WiregrassLive members are no longer allowed at Hooters Restaurant.

How To Build A Sofa Table

With a few simple tools you can build your own dining room table or sofa table. Below are pictures of a sofa table I built last week. The same method applies to making a large farm table, but with extra cross members in the frame. All of this can be built with only a skill/circular saw and a hammer and nails. I have a table saw and miter saw, which make cutting straight lines very easy.

First thing to do is figure what size you want your table to be and if it needs to be an exact width. I recently made three farm tables 3’ x 8’. However the three top boards were 1x12, which means they are actually ¾” x 11-1/2”, my table was actually 34-1/2” wide instead of 36”. Not a problem for my client. Also, the legs for this table were 2x4. For large tables I use 4x4s tapered down.

For the table pictured the boards I started with were 1x12, but I only wanted the sofa table to be 16” wide so I ripped the boards down to 8” wide and used the remaining 3.5” as the frame. The lumber used for this project was:

2 – 1x8 @ 48”

2 – 1x4 @ 44”

3 – 1x4 @ 10-1/2”

4 – 2x4 @ 29” tapered down to 2x3

With my table top at 16” x 48” I figured the frame to be 2” smaller all around. I cut the boards to length and prepared to assemble them. I was using a hammer and #10 x 3” nails for this project. You should always predrill nail holes to prevent the wood from splitting.

I nailed the frame together then placed the top boards on the frame measuring 2” all around. Then I nailed the top boards in place. Afterward, I flipped it upside down on my worktable and nailed the legs on.

Our client wanted an antiqued rough looking table so I beat on the boards with a hammer and garden tool then scraped it with an awl.

The frame and legs were painted with a green latex paint. After the paint dried overnight, the painted areas were lightly sanded to remove some of the paint, but not all of it. Then the entire table was hand wiped with stain. The stain gives the painted areas an antiqued look and helps bring out the wood underneath. The table can be finished off with a clear coat of hand rubbed polyurethane or Orange Oil.

As you can see from the pictures this was all made on a little table in my back yard. It was started late one afternoon and finished quickly the next morning.

Nursing the Baby

We had empty nest syndrome but did not know it until Mitchell’s friend adopted a kitten for us. I came home from work to find Kit and Renee talking to Kay, a little gray fluffy kitten bounding around the house. It didn’t take long to come up with a name, Mr. Hedley, his head and ears seemed so large for his little body.

The next day he was sneezing and sleeping a lot. Kay took him to the vet, we found out he was very sick. Dr. McCoy gave Hedley antibiotics and prescribed lots of bed rest. His short life had been tough so far. He was part of a litter left in a box outside the pound where all of his siblings died. Hedley was then neutered too early in life, poor thing. We gave him goat’s milk and wet cat food. He spent the next few days curled up on Kay’s chest sleeping. She held him and loved him, hoping he would be okay. After a week his fever broke and he seemed to be feeling much better. During his illness he lost his voice and it never came back as strong as it was.

Hedley’s body finally grew to match the size of his head and now he is a rambunctious teenager. As I look at my hand it is covered with small scratches. We play and wrestle a lot. My hand and foot bear the scars from his attacks. Kay doesn’t allow him to bite her and he knows it. While he is in full attack mode, both paws wrapped around my fist while biting and kicking with his back legs, she puts her hand in his face and he only smells her. I return my hand, full attack mode once again. At times he will stand on his hind legs and attack my calf, other times flipping on his back so his hands and feet a free to wrap around my foot, it tickles more than anything.

His favorite thing is a napkin or paper towel rolled into a ball. From a dead sleep he will wake to the sound of a paper towel wadding to be thrown. His favorite activity is fetching the napkin. While we sit in bed watching TV we throw the napkin; he dives off the bed and brings it back to us, over and over. After he tires, he lies against my legs and falls asleep. Sometimes we wake up with him between us fully laid out on his back. He loves to be near us.

Now when Kay is sick it is his turn to take care of her. He knows something is wrong with her and cuddles up close to keep her warm. The only time he lays on or against her is when she is in bed sick. He is laying with her today, taking care of her, sipping her water when she isn’t looking, gently touching her with his little paw as if to say “There, there, do you have a fever and chills, I will lay here and take care of you now. Thank you for loving me.”

Wilson House Bed and Breakfast

On your next visit to Pinckard, stop by The Wilson House Bed & Breakfast. Located on Highway 134, in the heart of downtown Pinckard, this quaint singlewide mobile home provides the finest of country living amenities.

Ronald and Lurleen Wilson welcomed me to their home upon handing over $50 for one night’s stay. I parked my car beside the Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme on blocks in the front yard, which doubles as a doghouse. I immediately felt welcomed by the dogs when they proceeded to urinate on my tires. One of the younger dogs, I believe his name was Z71, really laid out the welcome mat by humping my leg. Ronald hollered out that Z71 shouldn’t take long and to come on in when he was finished. There, There, good boy.

A quick tour of the mobile home gave me a good idea of the sense of history the Wilson’s treasure. The den area was decorated with Confederate and University of Alabama regalia. Ronald is well versed in the history of the Confederate States and rich history of his beloved Crimson Tide. My bedroom was decorated with John Deere tractor logos. The bed was firm, but soft in places and I swear the thread count on the sheets was in the 200 range

After a light snack of Miller High Life and boiled peanuts I joined Ronald in the small, but comfortable pool. Lurleen mowed the grass while Ronald extolled his love of the Crimson Tide football team. Several Miller High Lifes later I was fully educated on the greatest coach in history, the number of national championships and expectations of future championships from the Alabama football team.

Lurleen finished the mowing and joined us in the pool. There was barely room for the three of us so Ronald excused himself saying he would take a nap. I think he drank several Miller High Life beers before I arrived. Lurleen asked if I would apply baby oil to her back to help her tan. Her skin was very dark and appeared to be a loose fitting leather jumper, but I did as she asked. Her leathery skin and raspy voice from years of cigarettes appealed to some primal yearnings in my midsection. That might be the beer talking. I engaged her in conversation about things to do while staying in Pinckard. She told me the two choices were going to MP Surplus or going to the store. Maybe later we could go to Midland City to see the Shrimp Man for supper.

As night fell we tired of being in the pool, Lurleen took me around to the back porch area. There she opened a box with a few cigarettes. She offered one, telling me it is a clove cigarette and really gives an appetite. I figured: When in Pinckard. We shared the one cigarette and she told me to quickly get dressed. A sports coat and slacks should suffice for a Saturday evening dinner. I started to feel very light headed, probably the cigarette and beer. I dressed as quickly as possible and met Lurleen in the den.

By this time the beer, whatever kind of cigarette and lack of food was taking its toll. My head was spinning. I stumbled into the den hoping to find Lurleen and Ronald and hopefully some food. Maybe I was a little tipsy, but gone was the leather, tanned woman with the figure of Barney Rubble. Lurleen was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. High heels, red spandex pants, a silky cowgirl blouse cut down to there and lots of blue eye shadow to compliment her stringy red hair. She was an angel.

Ronald was still asleep so it was just the two of us. Ever the gentleman, I held out my arm, she took it and we strolled out to the car. She drove to dinner in their truck. I didn’t mind, I was laid back enjoying the country air.

Somewhere along the way I must have passed out. When I woke we were parked on the edge of a cornfield. Lurleen was pulling me out of the truck and taking off my clothes. My head was really spinning and I had no control over this lovely woman. As we stood there looking at each other I saw something move in the corn behind her. I began to wonder what kind of cigarette she had given me when I saw a woman coming out of the corn riding a horse. The woman on the horse started screaming at us. I think Lurleen knew the woman as they were yelling all kinds of profanities concerning each other’s families.

I don’t think Lady Godiva and Lurleen were friends because the woman drew a pistol and pointed it at us. I tried to explain our situation, but a shot was fired in our direction. My love for Lurleen vanished as I turned and ran screaming naked through the cornfield. Shortly behind me I could hear the horse following and the occasional gunshot. At the end of the cornfield I scrambled a fence and began running through an open field of cattle. I turned back to see Lady Godiva and the horse jump the fence, following me.

Her next shot missed me, but spooked the cows. I didn’t care where I was going as long as it was away from Lady Godiva. I was hoping the cattle knew the quickest route to the highway. And they did. I could see the streetlights. Only a fence separated us from civilization. I bounded the fence, along with several cows, and of course of course, horse lady. Shouldn’t she be out of bullets by now?

Our running bovine parade went through downtown Pinckard where I saw the Wilson’s mobile home. I dove behind an azalea bush and watched the parade pass. After a few minutes I caught my breath, then Lurleen drove up. After she went inside I checked the truck and thankfully my clothes were in there. I dressed, grabbed my keys and said a silent goodbye to my overnight bag and the Wilsons.

This place was too crazy. I am heading into Dothan to stay someplace safe, like The Heart of Dothan Motel.