Blogophilia

                                 Orders To Play

            Every Sunday we have a Soggy family gathering. River folk come from all round and over the river and through the woods to share in all the doins`.  They gather round the shoreline and spin tales bout` that Ol' Man River of theirs. 

          The women set up tables loaded with good ole Lousianna vitals by the boat dock, two long rows of the ladies county fair best dishes and one row of sweet baked desserts. One lucky Soggy teen was giben` a fly swatter and told to swat bugs and sticky fingers when needed. 

         Here Mama Soggy stokes her corncob pipe, hitches up her pantaloons and goes fishing in the ole` mill stream after making sure dem` women hab` a fire going fer` the fish she gonna catch.

         It’s a  Lazy river view of chock-a-block ole` men sampling Paddy's eye water under a giant oak tree. Younger men chasing after the gals with their trotting harness on. Dads fishing with their kids  and knee-high to a grasshopper younguns swimming in the dark waters at the bend of the river where the river is at its shallowest.

          All n` all Whatever's Your Pleasure the Soggy folk hab` it offered. 

          After a satisfying day of games, courting, lie swapping and Mama Soggy's fish fry a bonfire is built and everyone picks a spot to rehash the day's delights. It isn’t long before them what brung their fiddles and such tune up fer` a country playoff. 

          Now I practice three hours daily on my violin so I won't get worse. I don’t want to upset my dad. But der truth is I can’t hold a tune in-a bushel barrel.

           I overheard him telling my uncle; “It's a real Strad, you know. If it isn't I'm out one hundred and ten dollars. “ And dad whispers, “The reason I got it so cheap is that it's one of the few Strads made in Japan.’  A deal like this happens only once in a blue moon.”

           And gosh dang would’nt I know’d it? Dad brung my violin. Un` he gib` me orders to play; “River of No Return “

           A dozen fiddle jammers tuning to bow der crowd look up pect-ent-ly at me. And so wid nervous fingers i lifts that fiddle and begins to play squeaky notes and ear piercing whines nuff to chase bats n` beetles from der caves. 

           Dey probably would oh` strung me up, but a big ole grizzly came running outs` dem` woods. It was foaming green spit and wid` eyes wild wid` pain it came fer` me. Ebery one stood and watched. Not a sole tried to stop that critter. Why most ebery one cheered as dat smelly crazed critter threw me un dad’s Strad into der` ribber. 

            Dat bear feasted on the Soggy family’s picnic vittals until it had its fill. Then it stood high on dem bear legs oh` his roared, turned and lumbered off into the woods. 

             Dad held an auction fer dat fiddle, bought me a washboard and the Soggy folks left the ribber wid` a nodder tale to tell.

(CLARICE) 04/01/2021

Ecrits Blogophilia Week 3.14 Topic: What’s Your Pleasure

Topic - Lika and  Picture - the David 

Hard Bonus (2 points): Quote Jack Benny - 

I practice three hours daily on my violin so I won't get worse.

It's a real Strad, you know. If it isn't I'm out one hundred and ten dollars. The reason I got it so cheap is that it's one of the few Strads made in Japan.

Easy Bonus (1 Point): Include a Phase of the Moon - blue moon

Secret word/phrase - 1. Lazy river view  2, ole` mill stream  3. Boat dock  

4. River of No Return  5. Bend of the River 

6. Over the River and Through the Woods 7. Ol' Man River 8. Dark waters

9. Fishing 10. Shoreline