A Year Down Yonder
I 'd like to think of us as a reading-family. Since the darlings were babes in arms, we toted books. Bedtime, pre-nap time, down-time, in-between time, library-time, any ole-time: these slots were filled with our favorite tomes. Daughter #1 has taken up the tradition of fixing a lovely lunch for herself, replete with a book propped up next to her glass of milk. I approve heartily, except to warn of impending grease-stains on the pages. Oh well. A well-loved book is a tattered book. (See Hubby's bible for that.)
Just for fun, we are now reading A Year Down Under by Richard Peck. (I know it's a sequel; I haven't read its predesessor, but I will.) It made me laugh out loud, it's that hilarious. The homey language and dry wit of the narrator, 15-year-old Mary Alice Dowdel and her bristly grandma is chock full of memorable one-liners.
Grandma: "How about some supper? My stomache's flapping against my backbone."
(on picking pecans) "Be careful what you pick up," Grandma warned. "Not
everything in a yard's a pecan. He keeps a dog."
"Chilly out there." She rubbed her big red hands together. "My teeth is chattering
like a woodpecker with palsy."
"Skimpy coat, wasn't it? She's courting pneunomia going around naked to the knee.
She wasn't wearing enough to pad a crutch."
"It's the healthiest spot in Illinois. We had to hang a man to start a graveyard."
Is that enough to whet your whistle? After all my recent somewhat serious reading, A Year Down Yonder was just the ticket.
So if you hear any uncolloquial euphonisms creeping into my conversation, you know where I picked them up.
Just for fun, we are now reading A Year Down Under by Richard Peck. (I know it's a sequel; I haven't read its predesessor, but I will.) It made me laugh out loud, it's that hilarious. The homey language and dry wit of the narrator, 15-year-old Mary Alice Dowdel and her bristly grandma is chock full of memorable one-liners.
Grandma: "How about some supper? My stomache's flapping against my backbone."
(on picking pecans) "Be careful what you pick up," Grandma warned. "Not
everything in a yard's a pecan. He keeps a dog."
"Chilly out there." She rubbed her big red hands together. "My teeth is chattering
like a woodpecker with palsy."
"Skimpy coat, wasn't it? She's courting pneunomia going around naked to the knee.
She wasn't wearing enough to pad a crutch."
"It's the healthiest spot in Illinois. We had to hang a man to start a graveyard."
Is that enough to whet your whistle? After all my recent somewhat serious reading, A Year Down Yonder was just the ticket.
So if you hear any uncolloquial euphonisms creeping into my conversation, you know where I picked them up.
posted by thisrequiresthought at 8:41 AM
3 Comments:
how are you doing, nan? I am at the sagamore with laura weber and looking at your log -- blog --- you have a rich and wonderful life and it seems you celebrate it. guess that's what i like about you most you celebrate life.
friend #88 - hopefully, not necessarily in order of importance.
Sounds like a fun book. And makes me miss reading such things outloud. Time to take up the noontime routine again. In spite of protests...
We have a Year Down Yonder, and A Long Way From Chicago, on tape. They have been on every road trip with us for years. There are quite a few of Grandma Dowdel-isms that we quote on a regular basis. They are fun books.
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