June 30, 2010
From Hazel Green
“The caffeine in my coffee must have been dead. I was sittin’ out there in the chair asleep and didn’t even know it until a plane flew over and woke me up.” — Miss Nell, 90
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“The caffeine in my coffee must have been dead. I was sittin’ out there in the chair asleep and didn’t even know it until a plane flew over and woke me up.” — Miss Nell, 90
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Okay. That does it. Your next visit to Hazel Green, I’m Alabama-bound.
Seriously, you gotta come. I spent the morning looking through a book with a wooden cover tied together with cord that my aunt kept for documenting the presents she got at her wedding shower, 70 guests (!) who came to her sister-in-law’s remote farmhouse in the late ’40s. A meticulously kept log with entries like “luncheon cloth” as opposed to “tablecloth.” And “salad bowls — 10 plastic” and “hotpads.”
I bet Hazel makes her coffee at 3:00 a.m. like my grandpa did.
Sorry, that last was from me.
This Hazel Green’s a place and not a person, but I bet there’s people there who make their coffee before sun-up.
Oh yeah. I got confused because my grandmother’s name was Hazel. When she was in her 90s she could out-walk the young’uns at the grocery store while pushing a basket. Our granddaughter is about to turn nine, and she is taller than Hazel was.
I’m in love with Nell.
I laughed about that all day. The caffeine “must have been dead.”