elbow room

When I was a mulette of 11 yrs, I spent my entire summer in the Appalachian Mtns. of West Virginia with my grammy mule and grampa mule. It remains as one of the top summers of my lifetime !! I had so many great adventures that summer. And isn't life somehow sweetly magical when you stand on the cusp of childhood and adolescence? Life looks like a glimmering blue ocean beckoning you to dive in and play. And yet life IS play when you're 11. At least that summer it was - even if I was shelling beans or shucking corn or picking wildflowers, I experienced that glorious live in the moment feeling each day. This is how I remember my 11th summer. It is how I choose to remember it.

So about those elbows. Well, grammy mule went a-churchin' every sunday morn at, I kid you not, the epitome of the one room church with a steeple, open the door and see all the mules. Oh lordy, lordy - it wasn't one of those types of 'talk out loud' churches. No, it was very Methodist with hymnals and red prayer books. But my great aunty mule, Lucille, she sat up front so she could PRAISE BE THE LORD loud and clear. I giggled everytime she tossed out an AMEN BROTHER MULE ....... ok, grammy mule would pinch me if I giggled too loud. The mulegration just accepted aunty Lucille's exhuberance with .... dignification.

Oh, right, this post is about elbows. See how I digress ??? During grown up Sunday school, all the mulettes were ushered down into the basement for mulette sunday school. Now, I'm phobic about basements, so I was already feeling skittish. I'd much rather hang around the grown-ups 'cause they always say something I'm not supposed to hear. Sunday school was governed by a sweet lady who was a distant cousin, Mrs. Ruby Lynch. (It was Mrs. Lynch's granddaughter that threw the metal tipped dart at my leg, and it stuck straight out of my mule shin during a 'playdate' that summer !!!!!)

ELBOWS !!!!!! Yes. So, cousin Albert, 49 times removed, with thick bottle bottom glasses (just like mine) had been nudging around my stall all summer. Ms. Ruby asked that everybody rise and hold hooves and pray together. Well this jack of a cousin, slides, sweaty palms and all, next to me and reaches over to grab my hoof. I jerked my hoof away as fast as I could, but had no where to hide it !! So I tucked my hoof into my opposite hoof-pit, and sweaty palmed Albert grabbed my elbow instead. He took a firm hoof to my elbow and held on tight - long after prayin' time was over!

Now you KNOW how adult mules will talk. And Ms. Ruby thought my demureness to be the sweetest and funniest thing she'd seen in the longest ........ so straight aways after sunday school, when we finally get to the donuts and fruit punch, she races to grammy mule and aunty lucille and Albert's mamma mule and ......... well, I've been teased my entire life for making Albert hold my elbow instead of my hoof.

And that's the truth!

post script: Albert grew up to be a very fine optician, so I am told.


Ulysses said...

Without knowing hoof from elbow, it's a good thing he didn't want to be a veterinarian.

Pauline said...

your cousin? wait til gary gets a look at this story if he thought the chicken cartoon was lewd... ;)

Gary Rith Pottery Blog said...


red dirt girl said...

that's right: DEMURE.
and i'm sticking to my story ..... ;)

Pauline said...

pfffffft ;)

Dave Mows Grass said...

Funny what you remember. No one would even give me an elbow, the way I remember it.