My Weekend...

After moving through last week like swimming in syrup, Katie and I decided to go home to see my Momma for the weekend. My family lives in South Georgia. They are – to say the least country – very country. BUT my father’s side of the family is pure unadulterated poor white trash rednecks.My father passed when I was still young, and my Momma and Gran’pa raised us kids. She always made sure that I kept in touch with my father’s side, because as she said – it don’t matter if they’re all crazy as loons – they’re family by god….Okay, so.. we get home Saturday, spend the day with Momma, Gran’pa, my brother, his wife and their baby; we go to town, hang out, etc. That evening Momma says, “your uncle Rudy came by last week and was asking about you. You ought to go by there and see them. Tara had her baby.”Katie and I head off to Uncle Rudy’s. This requires going down the highway a bit, turning off onto a dirt road, crossing the railroad tracks, turning off the dirt road and down a market road (which is basically a logging road through the woods), driving around the pond, crossing the creek and pulling up in front of the house.When we get there the yard is full of trucks and cars. It seems that they’ve ‘gathered up’. Now in southern speak that just means that someone showed up at the house, then somebody else came by and somebody went on a beer run, somebody else fired up the smoker and somebody started peeling potatoes or snapping peas. There was about to be an eating.We get out and get hugged and patted on. My family really doesn’t give a damn that I’m gay, only because in their world, tha’s the least of the oddities we got.So, on that note, let’s take a quick roll call – shall we.There at the house we have Uncle Rudy, who’s about sixty. His wife Sara, his ex-wife Brenda, his daughter Stephanie, her son Jack, a couple of Jack’s friends, Rudy’s son Ricky, Ricky’s girlfriend Linda, who’s pushing sixty herself and is an ex-stripper, Ricky’s daughters Lynn, one of Lynn’s friends and Tara and Tara’s new baby Tamara. Sara’s mother Ida, who I swear to god is at least 95 and was drinking whiskey from a coffee cup the entire night.Now there aren’t maybe two marriage certificates in the whole bunch, it’s one of the slanted logic things that makes them not understand why I get upset that I can’t marry Katie. “Well, hell, your cousin Rooster’s got three kids by three women and he ain’t never been married…” *boggles* Of course I keep my opinion that this is merely a case of not understanding the complexities of a condom, rather than not believing that a ceremony certifies and blesses a union, to my self. Anyway…Ricky walks past carrying a rifle and a pair of pole climbers. He’s a lineman for the power company and has boot hooks that enable him to climb poles with a safety belt.. but he’s going to use them without the belt and climb a 40 foot pine tree in the side yard to deer hunt… *Waves to the man about to climb a tree with a rifle*“Come on in the house and see the baby.”Now, Tara’s my second cousin and she’s 18 and there she sits, with her new baby. I ask Aunt Brenda who the daddy is. She tells me it’s one of them trashy Baxter boys from over in Garfield and Uncle Rudy and Tara’s daddy, Ricky both have said if he shows his face around the family they’ll shoot him.About that time cousin Stephanie asks if we’re staying for dinner. I feel the claws on my elbow as Katie squeezes, my mouth opens to say, no no, sorry – we got to go, when Aunt Sara says, “well of course they’re staying. Jessie (which I hate being called) has better manners than to just stop by like that and then leave.”Um, so I may have lasting scars from the pinch that Katie gave me, but god love her sweet little heart, she smiled and went to go hold the baby, saying, “Jessie, hon, you go help in the kitchen – since we’re staying and all.” The venom dripping off the words left burn marks in the floor…I am vegan. I eat no meat, dairy products, etc. My family can’t even make a salad without chopping up egg in it. Dressing is a spoonful of mayonnaise and every vegetable cooked has a scoop of lard or piece of bacon in them, but I managed to find an apple and a bag of raw peanuts in the living room (don’t ask) and had that with some really good, fresh strong coffee. We cooked, we ate – a fire was built in the pit out in the yard. *waves to the man still in the tree with a rifle* It’s finally damned near midnight when we leaveKatie, bless her, never said a word about the fact that I am related by blood to these people… one of the reasons that I love her.So, how was ya’lls weekend? Hehe…