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The Gentry's Front Porch

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Old and New Family stories

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Crock Pot From Hell
a true story

Crock Pots, I want to vent on these nasty evil monsters that most all of us have. They are in the cabinet, evil little monsters just sitting there looking innocent and all the time they are plotting to 'GETCHA'. I know I am a victim of 'Crock Pot Abuse'. An innocent looking white crock pot that I put Cheese grits into for a fish fry. I was so careful with this 'innocent' looking Crock pot that I cooked the grits in another pot and gently poured the cooked grits into this beautiful innocent looking monster. Well everyone commented on the beauty and taste of the cheese grits, maybe that is where the problem started~~the evil pot wanted to be praised for it's beauty and charm~~and everyone just wanted it's cheese grits and overlooked the plotting monster. We carefully put all our containers in the car after the fish fry that was hosted at our neighbors and headed home full of good food and glowing with the friendship of family and friends, When we got home my husband went in and unlocked the doors and turned the outside lights on as I sat in the car with the evil Crock Pot. When he came back to the car he carried all the other dishes and casserole containers into the house and I got the EVIL Nasty ole' Crock Pot disguised in it's innocent whiteness. I made it onto the porch with this THANG in my arms when it suddenly came to life and slammed me onto the hard floor of my front porch. I was in immediate pain but still trying to hold onto some part of that Pot to save it from the fall. I looked from my position on the floor with the lid of the crock pot jammed into my right rib and both knees on fire with scrapes and bruises and over in the corner where the main part of the Crock Pot was I saw it's evil eyes shinning red with malice and evil and it's dingy broken teeth smacking wanting me to have more scrapes and bruises. I could hear it's evil laughter and shouts of glee when it heard me moaning with pain. I know this happened because I still have the battle wounds and soreness to prove it.
The moral of my story is rid your homes of these monsters! They are on a campaign to wipe us mortals off the face of this World. They want to rule the households that have USED them for so long. Carefully open the cabinet where you store your Crock Pot and if you look fast enough you can see the evil in their eyes, I tell you get rid of em post haste before they getcha like mine did me.
I have rented a back hoe to bust me a hole in the Crock so I can plant the most ugly plant I can find in it. The shell of the thang is where I have decided the brain is and I will just bang that sucker up like it did me and then bury it in a deep dark hole.
Now I know you all think I have finally lost it or maybe we were sipping crazy spiked punch that night but nope none of that was there, heck the preacher was even at the fish fry! I just felt it was my duty to warn yall of the evils that we have laying in wait in our cabinets. It has taken me a week to get the nerve up to post this~~well I was afraid to post it until I was able to rid myself of my own demon monster evil Crock Pot form Hell.
Thanks for listening and heed my warning,
Jane

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This is the story of the day my husband decided to ride the Wild Buck.

Hunting has always been a passion for my Buddy and as we get older the stories get funnier. This 2003 Deer season will be one for the Rememery Books. Early morning and he is up and in his favorite hunting spot, when what should appear but a nice fat buck with horns! So he carefully gets
his heart rate under control, and the vision of fresh deer sausage out of his mind, then he takes a good aim and sure enough down goes the deer! With glee and excitement he sees the deer has a neck good enough for mounting and a nice set of atlers so not wanting to mess up his trophy by shooting him again with the big gun he carefully puts down his
"high powered deer getter". He then turns the deers head over to see how great the bragging would be. Well the "dead" deer decides he ain't dead just mad but since Buddy already has him by the horns he decideds to give the old man a ride through the corn field. Well Buddy had already
shot this deer and he ain't one to let go without a fight so he hangs on for dear life. Lets remember the deer wants his life too so he continues to drag the old man through the corn stobs. In the meantime Buddy decides one or the other of them needs some relief so he managers to get
his little "pea shooter" out of his pocket. He finally managers to get the deer's head and the pea shooter in a position to give relief and bang he again shoots the deer. Well old Mr. Deer just decides that Old Mr. Buddy has indeed make him mad now and he continues the dance in the
cornfield. By now Buddy is bloody, tired and disgusted but still hanging on. He manages to get the Mad Deers head in position once again and the pea shooter goes bang. The deer comes home dead and the hunter comes home bruised and bloody with a tale to tell all his younger friends about how "He rode the Wild Buck."

Moral to this story
The sausage was good, the atlers were beautiful on one side ugly on the other so no mount was done. And the Old Man still has a sore hand three months later. But he is a legion in his own mind.

Disclaimer: HAHAHA, the year is now 2006 and my sweet hubby has decided the story did not happen quite like I wrote it! So I will let you decide whose story is the right one HAHAHA!!!!!

The Civil War or The War of Northern Aggression

I had never given as much thought to the Civil War as I have since doing this family research. It was not just the issue of slaves that our families gave their lives in such horrible ways. We were not the only ones with slaves and
not all our families had slaves. But regardless of all the reasons that our forefathers felt they should lay down their lives for their beliefs, they fought in such horrible conditions and without even the necessities needed for life and certainly not for battle. But even when they fought barefoot in the snow they still felt a pride that their cause was for the right. In reading letters, dairies, and accounts of battles, I have a new regard for my ancestors. According to a letter written by William Daniel Ross, "As for myself, my country is as deair to me as if I was but 21 and I feel as much determine to defend it as I ever did even if it is at the point of a bayonet or at the mouth of a cannon. If I die in camps or in the battlefield I shall die in a noble cause." I am proud to tell that was in a letter to my Great Grand Father from my Great Great Grand Father, who did indeed give his life for The Cause. And while they were off fighting their families were having to care for the livestock and farm land as best they could. What monies that were left behind was Confederate monies and they could not use this, but they were still being paid in it for their products they were lucky enough to sell. Taxes had to be paid. The men were off to war and the women were left to do all the field work, kill the hogs and process the meat, all the jobs the men did women now had to do. They were alone in a wilderness, because our area of Irwin County was still a wilderness in 1861, they had to protect themselves and their livestock and grains were either given to our Southern soldiers or stolen by the Northern soldiers. In the meantime the husbands, sons and fathers were being killed and left in fields and woodland all over our country. Our lands have bled red with the blood of our forefathers. In one account I read, a man came
back from the War with war wounds a plenty. He and his grandson was cleaning a well and the young boy wanted to quit and go get a drink of fresh clean water since the well water was being cleaned out and to his opinion was dirty.
The Grandfather told the boy that while fighting he had to push back the bodies of fallen soldiers, and the water was reddish and working with maggots, but he had to have water to sustain his body because they were in heavy battle. Another letter I read was from a son to his mother, He
told her that they had been in heavy battle and had to sleep proped against their guns and that he had not been able to take off his shoes in seventeen days, but Thanks
be to God he had shoes. Another letter told about coming onto a battle field where hundreds of bodies were left to rot, this was from a Confederate soldier who told his deair mother that even at risk of death to themselves that The South buried their dead. I read of one battle where the Yankee soldiers came unpon an encampment of our men and their leader was planning an attack but for some reason
could not make up his mind if this was a good idea. He went into the Rebel camp and asked their General what he sould do. The Southern Gentlemen General told him to look to his left and to his right at the guns trained on his men and told the Yankee General to retreat, and this is what he did. Later the Southern General said he could not lie to a man that came to him in earnest. This was the way with this War brother against brother on our own soil.

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