Posts Tagged ‘hillbilly’

Hello All,

What with this awful virus going on, didn’t any of us see the need for jobs. We’re all back at the old homeplace with lots of time to celebrate. Cousin Ralph convinced the power company to turn our lights on! Grandpa came home with a Christmas tree. He won’t talk about it, but the state park is missing their tree.

The sheriff drove Cousin Al home—he was the only prisoner in the town jail. He went hiking and brought Grandma a turkey. The kids piled in Grandma’s Studebaker and visited Santa at the mall. They were wearing masks, and he didn’t recognize them. The kids are adorable. They got everything but Santa’s shirt and pants. We hid the reindeer and sled in the barn.

Uncle Bob dumped Bourbon in the punch, says it’ll kill viruses. Cousin Cindy promises to make her kick-butt eggnog as soon as the kids borrow eggs and a milk cow. Uncle Joe found out where we buried his accordion, and he’s wheezing out Christmas carols. Our old hound is howling with him, or at him. My ears hurt. Now the baby’s wailing.  

The elves are peeking in the front window—as long as they stay out of the barn, we’ll be all right. The baby just crawled out the front door. The elves are crying—haven’t they smelled dirty diapers before? Oh no. Santa’s nosing around the barn.

Grandma fixed a vinegar pie—the baby took one bite and screamed. Grandma also fixed a marble cake—oh no! Cousin Al, don’t give the baby any cake! Too late, the baby just spit up marbles. I hope Cousin Al gathers up the marbles.

Cousin Ralph wrapped the presents, this year he tagged all the presents, some twice. Free for all! Grandma hurled marbles at us and grabbed most of the presents. The elves snuck the reindeer and sleigh out of the barn! Grandpa was supposed to guard the sleigh, but he drank too much punch. Santa and the reindeer just took off.

Cousin Cindy drank so much eggnog she’s climbing the tree and singing with Uncle Joe. The baby ran into a corner and threw up more marbles. Someone clean the baby! I can’t handle the stench. Yep. Even with that dadburned bug, we had Christmas fun just like last year.

Merry Christmas,

You know who

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Cocoa Van

Fancy folks call this Cocoa Vin, but down in the holler we call this chocolate chicken. Pretty simple: cocoa powder, Bourbon, Tabasco sauce—drown the chicken piece in it and cook. Just like granny. (hey, I ain’t no cook, I’ll fix me a TV dinner)

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