Okra and other fine traditions
Trip Start Sep 04, 2010
49Trip End Sep 30, 2010
So, that was the first switch of the day. Get up Matt, I said, we're leaving for Jasper at 11. Granddaddy doesn't need you to take him to the clinic, but they want us to go to lunch at Ryans.
I get instructions from my Dad, he wants fish, and green beans, and some corn, if they have it. A muffin too. Matt makes the rounds, exploring all the options that are there. Opal follows me, pointing to the things she knows Dad likes. Back at the table, big surprise. Matt has some mac and cheese, and half a plate of FRIED OKRA. Considering that he doesn't like vegetables at all, and has never seen an okra pod in his life, much less the sliced and fried result, I am expecting that he'll soon head back for a different plate of stuff!
He eats it all, goes back for more. I like it! he grins. The three of us applaud. A real southern convert, born right before our eyes!
Then the other cemetery, where Matt places flowers on other great-grandparent graves, the paternal side, and great-great-grandparents too. Then a quick driveby of two old houses, overgrown and fading now, the spot where your Dad came to visit his grandparents when he was a little boy Matt, the spot where your Papa Don grew up.
That was then, I say. And this is now. Here you are in Alabama visiting your grandmother, some traditions never change. We head back to Birmingham, it's too late to go to Craig's to waterski. But we'll go to Vulcan, I promise. That's tradition too.