Once in a while I write a letter to my mother, who’s in prison. I speak the language she remembers from the outside, and let her know how things are going in our town. I thought I might share this one with you, so you can enjoy the quaint character of our tiny rural hamlet:
Not much been happenin here lately. But here is a few tidbits for ya’ll to chaw on.
A meteor shower drenched our town at two in the mornin. Most of the population slept right through it. But a few unfortunate folk who was outside at that godawful hour got soaked in stardust. They came home pretty lit.
Mrs. Curdle went to our local bakery last year, and caught a yeast infection. A few weeks ago she gave birth to an eight pound loaf of bread. ‘Course we all held a breadcrumb shower for her. She seemed right pleased with the gifts, even though most folks jist gave her a toaster.
A few days ago I kilt me a cockaroach in our house. I done lassoed it, wrestled the critter to the ground, then tied all six of its legs together. Then I jugulated and butchered it with my bowie knife. Our freezer is packed now and, boy howdy! Looks like we folks’ll be enjoying roach steaks for the rest of the whole danged year.
Toothbrushes have went on sale at our local drugstore, and the line outside the store must have gone three blocks, if it weren’t a country mile. It’s not that folks here are addicted to hygiene. It’s just that they’s some mighty curious to know exactly what a toothbrush is.
Well, that’s all the news for now. Oh yeah, we’s all in good health, an’ we hope ya’ll is too. ‘Cept for those 27 stitches I got where I was gored by a horny toad. An’ the missus sprained her ankle slippin in the shower. She was shore surprised when water shot out of that round thing up there with all the holes in it. But ‘sides from that, we’s fine.
Love ‘n Sweetcorn,