I'd Rather Roll Than Rattle Way back in the day, words like "fat" and "obese" were not used to describe a lady who was overweight. The usual adjectives of choice were: stout, portly, or rotund. My grandma Kingston was most definitely in that category. She would get a bit miffed when someone would call her status to her attention. But she would really react when she saw a woman who was inordinately thin. It would flat make her mad. "Just look at her: a bag of bones! When she walks you can hear her rattle. I'll tell you this for sure I'd rather roll than rattle" She lived to be 92 and never did rattle! Hence, the book's title.

I'd Rather Roll Than Rattle

By Liz Kingston Bettle

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2010 Liz Kingston Bettle
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4520-5143-7

Contents

Some of Us Can't Sing....................................1The Preacher's Kids Again................................3The Local Train..........................................5Evangelical Fervor.......................................7Love on the Farm.........................................9Use of a Cane............................................11Social Services via Social Security......................13When the Road Gets Slick.................................15Hail the Gin.............................................17Don't Judge a Book by Its Cover..........................19And if You Believe That..................................21How Cold Did It Get?.....................................23The Chewing Gum Saga.....................................25S, Hablo Espaol........................................27Wham! Bam! No ... No Slam!...............................29The Party That Never Ended...............................31Strike Two...............................................33You Better Not Go In There...............................35Round Up Time............................................37The War of the Garden Plots..............................39Not Quite the Right Word.................................41Cowboys and Indians......................................43On a Hot Day.............................................45What's in a Name?........................................47The Surprise Brownies....................................49Some People's Opinion You Don't Want.....................51Some Things Just Don't Work..............................53Bless You................................................55Name It What You Want To.................................57Read the Signs...........................................59Fat's Where It's At......................................61The Splitgarber Square...................................63Oh No! A Snake!..........................................65A Sale You Couldn't Beat.................................67Snapping Turtles Really Do Snap..........................69It Got Boring At The Park................................71Watch Your Mouth.........................................73Always a Wild Streak.....................................75The Good Stuff Didn't Work...............................77Just Like the Ad.........................................79Hooray for Brazil Nuts...................................81International Food.......................................83Why Would You Lie To Your Children?......................85Three Is Too Many........................................87Pulling Rank.............................................89Looks Don't Deceive......................................91Andrew's Friend Chester..................................93I Don't Think So.........................................95Misguided Gift Selection.................................97Sooner or Later..........................................99All Fish Don't Come From the Tank........................101Extra Cleanup............................................103Love of the First Vehicle................................105Which One?...............................................107The Infamous Hand Prints.................................109It's a Coat and Tie Affair...............................111Minus Two Birds..........................................113When Your Ears Get Cold..................................115Worth a Whistle..........................................117The Corral Vegetables....................................119Happy Birthday...........................................121Uh-oh....................................................123A Trip into the Unknown..................................125Where Does That Thing Go?................................127Too Much Organization....................................129Description of Mother....................................131Swat!....................................................133An Unusual Medicine......................................135The Magnificent Magnolia.................................137Senior Sneak.............................................139So You Don't Believe.....................................141Meeting George...........................................143The Eye Exam.............................................145Revising an Old Tune.....................................147

Chapter One

Some of Us Can't Sing

I like music, and I very much enjoy group singing and such. But the truth is I am sadly lacking in natural vocal ability. I once lamented this fact to a friend of the family who has a nice tenor voice.

"It's dreadful! I can't even carry a tune."

"Oh yes you can," he graciously replied, but then he followed up with, "You just have heck unloading it!"

The Preacher's Kids Again

Preachers' children always get teased and hassled about things they say and things they do. Our pastor friend Joe had two daughters and a son, and they had their fair share of troubles.

On one particular occasion, the two girls were being questioned about an incident. When their dad came to the youngest, he said, "Why didn't you just tell daddy the truth about it?

She answered, "Because I knew you would have a pissy attitude."

Choice of language became the new topic of discussion!

The Local Train

Branching off from the Texas and Pacific Railroad line that ran west through Pecos was a little spur line that ran from Pecos to Toyahvale. Its main purpose was to accommodate a large gravel pit about 18 miles south of Pecos. It ran all the way to Toyahvale, where there was an occasional load of cattle or sheep to ship out. The cotton gins along the way also used it from time to time. The PVS - Pecos Valley Southern, which we nicknamed "Pulls Very Slowly," did not run real frequently, particularly to the most southern part of the route.

It delighted my daddy to come to one of the dirt road railroad crossings, let much of the air out of the tires of his `52 Chevy pickup, and then drive down the railroad tracks! He said there was no traffic (it's not like there was much traffic on the highways in the area) and you could make real good time!

Evangelical Fervor

My friend Phoebe lived in a farmhouse just outside of Balmorhea. Right next to their yard was a concrete irrigation ditch. It frequently had water in it that was running about 2 1/2 to 3 feet deep. At the age of nine we were allowed to play in the water without adult supervision.

Recently, the local Baptist Church had a number of people baptized during a big revival. Phoebe and I got the whole routine down perfectly. "I baptize you my sister (brother) in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost...."

We put on some bathrobes and went out into the irrigation ditch. We baptized each other several times; by immersion, of course, then we decided to look for new candidates. A litter of new puppies that didn't have their eyes open yet were the first to go through the ritual. We worked fast because it wasn't our intention to drown them.

Next we managed to catch a couple of chickens. They were not readily compliant with our spiritual activities. We did not give up. Our next "believers" were the cats. We only made it through two of the cats. They were more than reluctant to be baptized. We got scratched up enough that we gave up the calling and moved on to something safer.

Love on the Farm

What did the plow say to the tractor? Pull me closer, John, Deere.

Use of a Cane

Uncle Joe had arthritis and a problem with his hip, so he walked with a cane. However, he saw no reason not to utilize that cane for other purposes.

He had a habit of preceding whatever he was going to say with the expression, "I say, I say." Then he would go ahead and tell you whatever it was he had on his mind. If he suspected you were not listening attentively enough, or if he had to repeat himself, you were very likely to get a whap on the leg with his cane!

Social Services via Social Security

Seor Dominguez lived by himself in a small adobe house about a mile and a half west of the farmhouse where my elderly grandparents lived. Every morning Seor Dominguez would saddle up his sorrel horse and ride down to my grandparents' house to milk their cow and take care of the milk. He would exchange a few words with my grandfather, then get on his horse and go back home, his day's work done.

None of us knew exactly how old Seor Dominguez was, but somewhere along the line the Social Security Administration felt the need to determine if he should indeed be receiving Social Security benefits. To do so, they sent a new, uninitiated agent who did not speak Spanish. The agent first encountered Seor Dominguez on his horse, headed to milking time. He wouldn't even talk to the agent, in English or in Spanish. Seeing no other options, the agent followed Seor Dominguez to the farm for the milking. Then he followed Seor Dominguez all the way back home after the work of the day had been done. The agent was confident that in the confines of his own home Seor Dominguez would be happy to answer questions and fill out the necessary papers.

After much futility, Seor Dominguez told the agent "* % # $* #," in Spanish. Then in his best English: "You tende yo bizness and I tende mine." The agent hastily departed.

When the Road Gets Slick

Rain is always welcome on the ranches of West Texas. We had gotten about an inch of rain at the ranch house, but Daddy wanted to go check out the north side of the ranch and see if it had rained up there.

He and my 13-year-old cousin Billy took off in the old pickup. Sure enough, it had been a good general rain, and there were some spots in the road that were slick with deep mud. Daddy decided to drive on the road going over the dam of a small stock tank that had caught a lot of water from the rain.

Bad idea! The right wheels of that old truck slid off into the tank. Daddy jerked his door open on the driver's side and was crawling out. Billy was yelling and about to climb over Daddy to get out of the truck and back up on the dam. There was never much traffic on those ranch roads, but luck was with them. About that time Sonny McElroy was going from his ranch to town and passed by. Upon seeing Daddy and Billy waving and hollering, he turned on to the tank road and came to help. With a chain and a lot of effort, they got Daddy's truck out of the tank and were able to dry it out enough to get it started.

Billy said, "Can we go home now? I'm hungry!"

Hail the Gin

In the summertime heat of West Texas thunderstorms come up fast, and with them there is sometimes hail. Truman Foster got caught in just such a downpour. Man, he didn't want to get his pickup dented with hail, so he sought some shelter - fast!

His best chance was an old cotton gin, no longer in active use. So he drove up under the cover over where the scale to weigh the trailers of cotton was ... or at least had been. The scale had been removed, and all that was left was a big hole about 6 feet deep! Truman in his pickup ended up at the bottom of that hole.

So yes, he was "protected" from the hail, but he had an awful hard time getting out of the pickup, then getting out of the hole. It took a wrecker and some high-powered equipment to get the pickup out. You better believe that after that incident the old gin was barricaded and a warning sign was quickly forthcoming!

Don't Judge a Book by Its Cover

George was the baby of the five Jones kids. For whatever reason, he had long beautiful reddish-brown curls. I mean, this was unusual because it was way before the hippie era.

Summer came to and end and school started. A new teacher, who did not know all the children yet, was on hall duty. The new teacher observed George going into the boys' restroom. She ran after him and said, "Honey, you can't go in there. The girls' restroom is down here."

"I may have curls, but I ain't no girl, and I'll show you if I have to!"

"No, no! That won't be necessary. I apologize for the mistake."

George still kept those beautiful curls.

And if You Believe That

Daddy and a couple of his cronies were sitting around the saddle house shooting the breeze. They had observed a skunk over in the corner, interested in some cattle feed in a burlap sack. They decided not to mess with Pepe.

My brother and some of his teenage friends wandered into the saddle house. My daddy, always one for a good practical joke, thought he would set it up.

"Did you boys know that if you pick a skunk up, holding his tail straight up, he can't spray you with his scent?"

"No, we didn't know that. Are you sure?"

"Oh yeah, see that little skunk over there? You can try it out and see for yourselves how it works."

"Well, I don't know. I never heard that before."

This conversation went back and forth for a while, with daddy goading those boys.

At last one of them decided to give it a try. It was my brother Johnny who reached over, grabbed the skunk, and held his tail straight up.... Oh yeah, he got sprayed thoroughly! Daddy and the men were laughing, but those boys were using a lot of profanity. Needless to say, they vacated the saddle house real fast!

My daddy admitted he didn't think his own son would be the one who actually picked up the skunk. Mother tried every remedy she knew to clean up my brother's clothes. None worked, so the shirt, pants and underwear got burned. My brother was admonished to leave skunks alone!

How Cold Did It Get?

John Henry Meier and his two boys, Jim and Tom, came out from San Angelo to go hunting at Uncle Joe's place. The first morning they went out, it was very cold and the doves were scarce. When they got back to the house, they noted the temperature was 31 with a wind chill factor of 7.

Uncle Joe said, "That wind chill factor is a new thing they invented. If they had had that back in my day, I would have froze to death two or three times!"

The Chewing Gum Saga

My daddy's brother, Uncle Bill, had been having a problem with an ulcerated sore on the right side of his stomach. We went to see him and he pulled back his bathrobe and showed us that big ugly thing.

After we left, I asked my mother, "Did Uncle Bill get that from swallowing his chewing gum?" (I had been having a problem about my gum, and mother had told me it was not good for you to swallow chewing gum.)

S, Hablo Espaol

My cousin Jerry usually spent a good bit of each summer at the ranch with us. His choice of hairstyle did not satisfy my daddy. It was in the 50s, and the hype over hair was not yet a thing. Jerry's hair wasn't really long or a Mohawk extreme. But, he parted it on the side and the comb-over had a bangs effect that hung down in his eyes. Daddy tried to get Jerry to comb it a different way or even paste it down with some hair wax ... all to no avail.

It came time for routine haircuts for daddy, my brother, and of course Jerry. The local barber of choice was a Hispanic man whose shop was in Brogata, a suburb of Balmorhea. Jerry's turn came last. The barber asked him how he wanted it cut. Jerry told him; then daddy told him ... in Spanish. Jerry came out of the barber shop with his ears lowered. He did not get a burr, but those bangs sure were gone! Jerry was not a happy camper. But he soon looked at a calendar and calculated that his hair would be properly grown out by the time he went home; thus he could save face among his peers as he went back to school.

Wham! Bam! No ... No Slam!

Stephen, one of my cousins who lived in Pecos at the time, spent a lot of time at the ranch. He and Daddy had an ongoing dispute. Several times a day, Stephen would run down the hall of the ranch house (15 feet wide and 35 feet long) and out the screen door that served as the front door of the house. There were 12 steps going down from the front porch to the sidewalk. Stephen would be about halfway down the steps, and the front door would slam. Daddy would holler at Stephen to come back and start over.

"Go through the front door slowly and without slamming it."

Wherever Stephen was headed, this procedure was going to slow him down quite a bit, but he knew he would not win any argument with Uncle Duncan.

This went on and on, then, hallelujah! My mother found an air-pump door control device at the hardware store. She bought one and installed it herself. Forthwith, peace and harmony was restored between Daddy and Stephen.

The Party That Never Ended

Our phone service when I was growing up involved a party line. My grandparents were one of the four parties on our line. Any time someone on the line received a call, all the phones would ring. Each number had its specific assigned ring: a long and a short, two shorts, etc. That way, each family would know when the call was for them. However, it did not matter which ring it was, if my grandma could get to the phone, she was going to answer it.

"Hello Ms. Kingston! Can you give me a couple of minutes to make my call? Then I'll call back and visit with you, okay?"

"Okay I'll be waiting."

Now, this did not mean that she was going to hang up and wait her turn. Quite often, she would stay on the line and listen in on the conversation. Her sons tried to explain to her that she couldn't keep butting in and that she should answer only her own ring.

Her reply: "I'm a lonesome old lady, and I need some contact with the outside world."

Strike Two

Grandpa Bill sat in his rocking chair with a battery-powered radio on the table next to him. His favorite thing was to listen to the major league baseball games.

It was his practice always to assist the umpire: "A strike? What do you mean? That was high and inside!"

"I don't know how you figure that one, no way it was a ball. It was right over the plate and waist high."

He never won any of his calls, but it didn't keep him from trying when he listened to those games.

You Better Not Go In There

We had stopped by my grandparents' farmhouse to visit with them on our way into town. One of my adult Kingston cousins met us on the sidewalk.

"Grandma is really mad. I don't think I'd go in right now if I were you."

"What is she mad about?" I asked.

"I don't know, but I'll tell you this: she's like a Kansas twister on a toot."

We disregarded his warning and went on in to see my grandparents. I was dying of curiosity to see a Kansas twister on a toot, whatever that was. But there was not a thing out of the usual that I observed, phooey!

Round Up Time

The McElroy's got a generator that produced electricity, so that meant they had lights and television before REA reached some of the rest of the ranches. It was our practice to go to the McElroy's on Saturday night to eat supper and watch Gunsmoke.

My brother, Johnny, and Earl McElroy were born two days apart, so they grew up to be close friends, as were their fathers. On this particular Saturday, we arrived at the McElroys' earlier than usual. We were sitting around on the porch visiting. Johnny and Earl took off up toward the garden where the milk cows' calves were in a pen. They figured on branding those calves.

The first thing the boys did was build a fire. For their branding irons, they got some baling wire that had come off the bales of hay fed to the livestock, shaped them to make the proper brands, then heated them up in the fire. The boys were not on horseback, but they did have ropes. They could rope the calves, but the calves were too big for the boys to throw them down and hold them while they applied the makeshift branding irons. Therefore, they'd rope one and tie him up. Then, one boy would brand while the other tried to hold the calf still.

It didn't take long for the smell of burning calf hair to reach the rest of us on the porch. We all headed out for the cow pens to see what was happening. The calves were rescued and the boys reprimanded. The round-up had not been too disastrous, because the baling wire branding irons hadn't burned into the hides, and the boys had not even thought about other jobs - earmarking and castrating the bull calves - thank goodness!

The War of the Garden Plots

Out behind the ranch house was a plot of land that was known as the orchard/garden. There were some pecan trees, peach trees, the pear tree, and some rows to plant veggies. Mother had it all laid out: cucumbers, radishes, black-eyed peas, squash, tomatoes, and some green beans. Pete, the hired man who had been working at the ranch for a number of years, had a different plan for the garden. He thought there should be only corn, beans, chili peppers, and onions. Daddy was called in to referee this dispute, so he came up with a plan to have two gardens. He decided Pete could have the area around the swimming pool (a storage tank on the far side of the corrals.) We all came out winners with twice the summer produce to enjoy. However, when we were sent to pick a particular vegetable we had to make sure whether to go to Mama's garden or Pete's.

(Continues...)

Excerpted from I'd Rather Roll Than Rattleby Liz Kingston Bettle Copyright © 2010 by Liz Kingston Bettle. Excerpted by permission.
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