Oklahoma and other issues

 

Hayter for February 9, 2025

Seat belts on! We've got three subjects this week.”

I’ve prepared for you three topics, each of which is slightly related to the others. At least, that was my goal. Are you ready? Okay.

 I assume you heard that Punxsutawney Phil didn’t see its shadow last week—meaning the country is having six more weeks of cold weather. This is true only of countries in the Northern Hemisphere with groundhogs.

I’m here to tell you that winter is already over for us. People north of Dallas may freeze their buns off in early March, but it’s not happening down here this year, nor throughout the remainder of my lifetime. Snow is over in Montgomery County… unless the earth develops a mean tilt.

I now choose to share with you a collection of words that were created to replace cursing. Throughout my youth, anyone caught uttering the following words was due a trip to purgatory in a basket. I shall start with “Sam Hill” as in “What the Sam Hill are you doing?” I discovered that “Sam Hill” was first found in print around 1830. I read several ideas about its reference. I considered most of them a stretch.

I eventually settled on the most plausible explanation to me. -- “Sam” referenced satan, and “Hill” stood for hell. That’s why my Mom’s family in Oklahoma would not allow the words to be spoken together. “Sam” is okay. “Hill” is okay. But saying “What the Sam Hill is going on” could earn you a forever life with the devil.

 I once mentioned the incident where Kay’s dad walked into the open corner of a garage door. The moment his forehead hit the sharp metal corner it drew blood and the quickest swelling I’ve ever seen. Uncle Ray immediately grinned and said, “Ouch”. I don’t know what swear word that represents. What I do know is that Kay’s dad was not of this world. I knew him to be God’s gift to humanity.

I’ve likely mentioned a time or two about the different trips the Hayter family took to Bristow, Oklahoma to see my mother’s family. Practically every evening everyone met at Grandma and Grandpa’s house to sit on the porch and talk into the night.

During one of our gatherings, the adults in the Teagarden Family were sharing old times.  Kids didn’t have all that much to share. Unfortunately, God let me join in on one conversation. I’m blaming it on Him because it was not like me to interrupt the adults. While I don’t remember the topic in question, I do remember the one word that brought me down—“golly”

I was not able to finish the sentence that housed the word, because my 22-year-old cousin Dale, broke in with the words “What did you say?” At that moment, his was the only voice heard on the porch. “Come on, say it again! Repeat what you just said!” I let him continue for a few more seconds before leaving the porch and hiding behind the giant elm tree at the side of the house.

            The fact that I still remember that story, is somewhat tied to my third and last topic—COVID! You’ve likely had it. Kay and I both caught it twice. In 2020, she got it first and passed it along to me. In 2022 I reciprocated. I got the same symptoms a third time, but my test strip didn’t register it. Test strips can be so temperamental.

            During our COVID cases, Kay and I both suffered from a lack of interest in reading, watching TV, or listening to or sharing in conversation. We both had continued problems with headaches, sore throat, nausea—and a few other symptoms, the thoughts of which are, at this moment, causing me to relive the experience.—Excuse me a second.—Okay, I’m better now.

Unfortunately, the worst thing that COVID-19 did to me was mess with my memory. I’ve still got a decent long-term memory, I just can’t remember why, at times, I find myself standing up without remembering where I intended to go. Fortunately, I have yet to question why I’m in the bathroom. That’s got to be a good sign.

Oh, and my imagination is experiencing an overload. I can hear car doors shutting from several blocks away. On occasion, I’ll say, “Kay, will you answer the door? I’m in the middle of something.” She’ll tell me that there was no knock on the door or ringing of the bell. I only doubted her the first time it happened.     

Fortunately, both of us are still retired. If Kay were to lose some of her memory,  I’d force myself to get her a dog. They’re much better than I am at calming her down. Cats? They’re all about themselves. The fact that I still know that to be true shows that my brain is improving every minute.

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