.
I’m hooked on genealogy and have been for a number of years. I put it away for a long time but last year, after watching Who Do You Think You Are? on Friday nights, I dug out my disorganized notes and records, joined ancestry.com and started searching.
Genealogy is addictive. I struggle between writing fiction and wanting to devote all my time to writing my family history--at least, a few personal family stories like the one below.
Me and Grandma
I was closer to Grandma than her other grandkids. Maybe because we lived right across the pasture and I saw her every day. When I was little, I stayed with Grandma while Mama worked. I watched her wring the necks of chickens, slam them to the ground and laugh while they flopped to death. There was something a little scary, yet fascinating about watching my old Grandma, long grey hair knotted at the base of her neck, killing chickens.
When I got older, I’d still hang out with Grandma. I thought she could teach me something school books, and my own mom, couldn’t.
Being at Grandma’s house always felt right.
But this story isn’t 100% true. I wasn’t any closer to Grandma than the other grandkids; I did live across the pasture. And I did stay with her when I was little while my mom worked but once I started calling my panties 'drawers' and the front porch a 'gallery', Mom put me in a kindergarten. I did watch Grandma (I really called her Mamaw) wring the necks of chickens, and she did twist her long hair in a knot. She laughed too. Yes, she fascinated me, so is the story a lie?
John Henry Roach is 18 years old. Mattie Mae Smith is 16 years old. Too handsome and beautiful to be wringing the necks of chickens.
