Uncle Snake
Posted under: Not Quite an Accent
Uncle Snake had a voice like wet gravel rolling around in a snuff box.
South Texas has a reputation for growing thick, syrupy accents. Combine that with Uncle Snake’s voice and I think most folks would need a translator or two just to turn his conversation to English. I’m convinced he knew it, too. There was a mischievous sparkle in his eyes roundabout the third time I’d ask him to repeat what he’d said, despite it seeming less and less intelligible each time.
Digging’s More Fun
He had a particular habit when it came to people that I’d never come across before. Most folks, if they tripped over an uncomfortable subject or accidentally tweaked a sensitive issue would back off, get quiet, or apologize. Not Snake. No, sir. That man was convinced there was only one solution if he found himself half-dug in a hole … keep digging. China’s down there somewhere. I can’t argue with success, either. He had me laughing so hard that I forgot what he originally said to make me blush.
Apache
Not many people nowadays know just how horse-crazy I was. Still am, truth be told, but back in high school, I was feverish with it. My first job was as a groom at a horse ranch, and nothing would satisfy me till I had four hooves and a velvet muzzle to call my own. Unfortunately, college campuses don’t exactly allow pets that size in the dorm rooms, so my hard-won paint horse had to stay behind when it came time for me to move away. For a time, he lived at Uncle Snake’s.
My horse was a sweet thing. I got him for a song from a harried-looking father whose little princess didn’t want a pony after all. He’d been a heading and heeling horse (that’s rodeo speak, for you cityfolk) and he was gentle as a lamb. Had a white barbed-wire scar wrapped around one hind leg and an ominous cloud growing over his eyes. He was half blind when I bought him, and mostly blind by the time I found a new home for him, and that was the state he met Uncle Snake.
Never saw such a thing. I’d come out on the odd weekend to visit and there’d be Uncle Snake. Thunder and Lightning at his heels (his dogs), wading through a knee-deep stream of feather-footed chickens, hollering out for my nearsighted horse to come see me. He looked like something out of an old tv show. Grizzly Adams, maybe, with that fierce beard of his.
Never took a dime from me for boarding my horse there, either. Refused every time I offered, then invited me in for dinner.
Nice to Meet You
One of my favorite stories about Uncle Snake isn’t mine, but I’ll tell it anyway.
As you might have guessed, Snake wasn’t his birth name. All of his brothers ended up saddled with a nickname, and they wore them so long most folks didn’t know them by any other. Snake’s birth name was Frank, an ironic name for a man who so loved to tease.
Snake also had a beard – a glorious thing, covered him from cheekbone to breastbone.
One day, he up and shaved the whole thing off.
Didn’t take him long to realize just how much fun he could have with the event. He started walking up to folks he’d been friends with for YEARS, introducing himself as “Frank.”
They’d chat a while, and once or twice the person on the other end of the conversation would ask if he knew a feller by the name of Snake. Good guy. Frank reminded them of him.
I wouldn’t be surprised if Snake didn’t drag out the conversation before finally letting them off the hook.
Uncle
I met Uncle Snake just before I went off to college. He’s Mr. Moore’s uncle, but I figure I can claim him as my own through marriage if affection alone isn’t enough.
I miss him.
Awwwwww, what a wonderful story. *Sniffles*
.-= Arleen´s last blog ..Podcasts- I Need Them =-.
@Arleen
*hugs* Thank you!
*hugs* Enjoyed that, immensely. Wonderful memories, and so great that you memorialized them this way. :)
.-= Steve´s last blog ..Housekeeping- Aerie Address Change =-.
@Steve
Thank you. The stories have been itching at me, and I thought of what a shame it’d be if I forgot them. =]
.-= Tami´s last blog ..Travel and eReaders =-.
I have been put in charge of a family reunion. No one seconded my nomination, but that technicality proved inconsequential. They put in charge just he same and then all tried to appease me with flattery.
The last reunion I put a video montage together of family photos. It was really fun because I got everyone to send me a collection of their photos. It was great to have all those photos, many of which I had never seen before.
I am gearing up to ask all those Flusses to put in writing a memory that they have of the family. I think this will be better than the photos, as there are so many more stories out there that I have never heard. And many of the Fluss are very good writers, so I have high hopes.
So I have been trying to put one of my family stories into writing. Let me say this….ARGGG!!
After days of this emotion, I surmised that since I am not accustomed to writing, maybe I should try your exercise of writing 750 words a day.
I got a whole entire 175 down before I had to stop for some emergency. Dinner, I think.
The next day I wrote 150 before I drifted off to sleep leaving a squiggly line to verify my state.
Then I read your easy-flowing remembrance. I like it when you write better than when I write!
And I found myself regretting that Uncle Snake does not even slightly resemble my grandparents!!
Rats!!
@Anne
*hugs* But -I- like it when you write. =]
We can trade. Though I cannot, sadly, offer any remembrances for this person I didn’t meet. I suppose I could make some up for you. *grins*
And if you can’t get 750 a day, you could always try for a goal of 200!
=]
Every little bit counts, and you’d be surprised how much you get done, just by doing a tiny bit. Holly Lisle has a goal of 250 words a day, and she writes and publishes whole books!
<3
.-= Tami´s last blog ..July Arts =-.
I think my larger problem has been that I am trying to write a remembrance, which is not the same as telling the story of what happened today. The focus is on characters/people, and there is no real plotline.
I like the way you rather choose categories and focused on that particular trait. I will try that in an attempt to get my thoughts together on this.
When Nick was little, we used to have to write in a journal before bed. Nick was three and four at the time, so he had to write three of four words. I was 36 and 37, so I had to write that many words. He did not like it if I wrote more or less that the “assigned” number. I had to use my words sparingly, which I suppose is also a good exercise.
I miss that Nick.
I was greeted by the twelve year old Nick, who popped up and said, “Okay, here’s my idea , Mom.” His ideas take more effort on my part these days.
@Anne
For what it’s worth, simply tell your story (or stories) in the same manner you write your comments here. It’s a simple, engaging, fun-to-read style. Are you sure you don’t have a blog somewhere?
.-= Steve Hall´s last blog ..Housekeeping- Aerie Address Change =-.
@ Steve,
Just as you are not a twenty-five year old in an uptown loft, I do not keep a blog. You are welcome to join Tami in hassling me about that, but the time constraints of my life do not invite such an endeavor on my part at this time.
In the meantime, thanks! Despite what my children my say, and one does refer to me as “Destoyer of Fun,” I am simple, engaging and fun.
Yeah…believe it or not, I do remember when my wife was an active mother of three…boys, no less. Had there been such things as blogs then, I am fairly certain she’d have had no time, either.
.-= Steve Hall´s last blog ..Housekeeping- Aerie Address Change =-.
@Anne
If it helps, I didn’t start out with categories. I just wrote, and then added the category titles to try and make it a bit more readable/coherent.
Nick is the one who wanted to be a universe when he grew up, yes?
@Steve
I gave up on her with the blog thing. Instead, I’m pushing for her to compile all these great stories she emails me into a book and publish it on Lulu. I told her I’d trade her signed copies for my Choose books. =]
.-= Tami´s last blog ..July Arts =-.
Jacob wanted to be a universe.
Nick wanted to be the bad guy.
Jessica wanted to be a mom.
In her journal at school this year, Jessica wrote that her mom is her hero because “she is Polish, a parent and responsible.”
So far, it has been an assortment of memories with no direction or fluidity….although yesterday I found a common thread that may help me. My grandparents represented America to me and I think I can use that angle to provide cohesion.
@ Steve,
I find that boys are less demanding of my time and energy. Now that may just be who my children are, but my girl has required and needed me much more than the boys ever did. It has to do with all those emotional connections women need to make! I apologize to my husband daily, because it drives me nuts to have to deal with a girl/woman!!
My best example is when each child was in preschool. I would always ask, “How was your day?” It was a twenty minute ride home.
The boys would answer in one syllable and then retreat into silence, only expounding when I asked further questions. And elaborations were something as drawn out as “Crash Test Dummies is the best recess game ever!”
Jesiica would talk the whole way home, and I had to be engaged the entire time. Because there was always the question to me about what someone brought for lunch the previous day, or who they sat by, or who they played with at recess to prove that I knew what was going on in her life. I was always exhausted by the time we got home, searching for a quiet moment.
@Anne
Anne, I see exactly the same things, from when my boys were my granddaughter’s age (6 on Sep 21), to how she acts. D’you think there may be some truth to that old wives’ tale that boys are different than girls? :-Q (that’s me, with my tongue firmly implanted in my cheek).
.-= Steve Hall´s last blog ..Housekeeping- Aerie Address Change =-.
@ Steve,
I just read an article about the work done by some brilliant researcher. The research concerns itself with the neuroscience of a child’s brain.
This brilliant woman, at one point in her article, commented on how a child, who does not even know how to add or subtract, understands statistics well enoung to pick the most probable outcome in a designed experiment. She exalted the ability of young minds to make connections in their lives and to understand what surely in incomprehensible to them.
I doubt that lunkhead ever had kids! What a maroon!!
And these are the people who tell me that boys and girls are NOT different.
And besides, I like the recipes I get from old wives much more than the recipes I get from research scientists. (This will hold true up until the point that my friend Dave shares recipes with me.)