Weird

This past Saturday was the first day of spring break. Every high schooler was down at the beach soaking up the warm spring sunshine and making a general commotion. Everybody, that is, except me.

Nope, I spent the day running around like the Energizer Bunny, saving the beachgoing for sometime in the future (Personally, I think a farmer's tan fits my personality perfectly.)

I slept in (by my standards) till 8:00 AM, and made my way down to my Uncle Stu's house. I guess it's weird for a 17-year-old's best friend to be 58 years his elder...But I've never met any other person whom I have more in common with than this cracker-wisdom-loaded cousin of mine.
After tying over 600 knots on my mullet net-in-progress, we headed down to Tommy Allen's Feed Store just a minute down the road.

After parking the truck in the gravel "parking lot," we made our way up the creaky front porch steps, through the wide-open doors, and into the non-air conditioned shack. Saying "hello" to the attendant and explaining our reason for being there, we made our way over to the seed counter. Bags upon bags of seed were strewn everywhere, and after rummaging around for a few minutes, we found what we came for: Yellow straight-neck squash. Uncle Stu measured out his seed on the decades-old scale, put them in an sack, and brought them up to the check-out counter. All measurements are "on your honor.". A business based on the honesty of its customers? That's weird.

Later in the day, I went over to my mom's old high school sweetheart and datil pepper farmer, Randy Haire's, house. I showed up with the intention of buying 15 plants for $15, and ended up leaving with over 100 plants for $0, but not without some objection on my part. We had a very good talk about growing peppers, agriculture in general, and its quick ongoing disappearance in our home county. While we were talking, his daughter, who appeared to be slightly younger than I, approached gripping two painted turtles bound for their front yard swimming hole. She looked at me, and I could read her mind: What's he doing hanging out with my dad? That's weird.

When I finally got home late that afternoon, I mowed the lawn and took out the rest of my turnip greens. Some of them were starting to get that white mold on them, tipping me off that it was just getting too hot and humid for them. I had bush tomatoes to replace them with, anyway. I then spent the entire evening sorting, washing, blanching, and freezing the last of my crop of turnip greens.

As you can see, there was no shortage, and upon offering some to the neighbors across the street, they did not know what I was talking about; they had never heard of eating turnip leaves. That's a weird thing to do.

Yep, instead of spending the day at the beach like everybody else, I spent mine hanging out with old people, talking about old things, planting squash, harvesting turnips, and speaking with an old datil pepper farmer like he's an old friend.

I kind of like being weird.

Coke n Peanuts

My travels often bring me past this little pit-stop near my home, which used to be owned by one of my numerous cousins by the name of...you guessed it...Weedman. Though our kin do not own the store anymore, I still often stop by there to buy gasoline and sometimes breakfast when I am traveling especially early. It is a typical rural southern store with the typical crowd and the typical country music loudly playing over the radio. Naturally, it's my kind of place.
One of the great things about Weedman's, as with many other rural stores, is that it sells everything under the sun inside its cramped quarters. From motor oil to "Yoohoo" in glass bottles to boiled peanuts and tractor parts...I mean everything.
One of the many unique things about Weedman's is that is still sells Coca-Cola in those little glass bottles that my parent's generation are always reminiscing about. REAL glass bottles...no screw-on lids here...yes, you actually have to use a bottle-opener!! (This comes as a shock to much of my generation.)

Whenever I stop in there it is often tempting to me to buy a glass-bottled Coca-Cola and some roasted peanuts, and do something that is also unique to little rural southern areas: Coke n Peanuts. Yes, the peanuts are actually poured into the GLASS bottle and the two are....dreaten....simultaneously.
Today, as my mom and I were heading down to take a look at the property I am buying, I caved in to this temptation and bought a couple bottles and a jar of peanuts.

One thing here is that it is simply not the same with a plasic bottle as it is with a glass bottle. It's just something about an ice cold glass bottle that completes the equation. Oh, and another thing is that the rough peanuts take out the carbonation of that little bottle very quickly. So enjoy, but don't prolong the experience too much!

It's delicious! You should try it!!