Thursday, August 30, 2012


A few weeks ago, Hub and I went to an outdoor concert in middle Tennessee.  It was a beautiful, balmy evening with just enough breeze to keep us comfortable.  We were early, so I had time to sit and listen to the people around me talking.  This is what I heard.

"Yeah, I know him.  He's a curious fellow.  They moved into the old Barton place 'bout twenty years ago.  They stayed to themselves most of the time.  I'd throw up my hand when I passed, and sometimes, they would wave back but most of the time, they just ignored me.  Ever' time you seen them out, they would be bundled up like it was the middle of winter. Heard they came from Michigan or New York, one of them cold places.

I was up one morning fixin' me some breakfast and he just showed up at the door. He said, 'Looks like my boy is going to marry your girl, so I thought we need to get acquainted.'  I told him to come on in and I fixed him a couple of eggs for breakfast.

He was sittin' at the table eatin' his eggs and biscuits when he saw a jar of pepper sauce on the table.  We always leave it settin' there; we eat it with everything.  I told him what it was; he had never seen canned peppers before.  He reached and got a big hot pepper from the jar, and ate it in three bites.  Then he reached and got another one.

By the time he finished his breakfast, he had eaten the whole jar of peppers.  He turned the jar up and drank all the hot pepper sauce.  'Best stuff I've ever had', he said.

Well, our youngun's didn't get along and never married, but I think that pepper sauce changed that man.  He's friendly as he can be to me now.  When you pass down there on the coldest day of the year, he's sittin' on the porch with the sleeves cut off his shirt.  Yes sir, that pepper did something to that man."

There are stories everywhere.  We just have to find time to listen.