Pete's News

ALL THE NEWS THAT'S FIT TO PRINT 
AND SOME THAT AIN'T


Howdy folks! This here's ol' Pete and Rosebud comin' at you again!

Did you notice that it turned off spring last Monday? It did. I always 'member spring cause Grandaddy always made such a big deal out of it. He'd have all us young'uns to stay the night at his and Granny's house and he'd wake us all up in the middle of the night. Yeah, he'd make us get up outta bed and get woke up so we could see the changin' of the season as he called it. I reckon most people would think he was a little on the peculiar side, and I'll have to admit he could be about a few things. Not about everthing, mind you, but there was a few things he was just plum odd about. Gettin' up in the middle of the night to watch spring come in was one of 'em.

I don't remember there bein' much to see when spring did get there. It wasn't like Santy Claus come and put presents in your stockin's or nothin' like that, but I remember it bein' fun. I know all us cousins really looked for'ds to it. It was kinda like it was our special holiday and it was about the only time the whole bunch of us got together. Well, 'course we got together at Christmas, but it wasn't the same. Our mamas and daddies would keep a purty tight rein on us when we gathered up at Granny and Grandaddy's for Christmas. They said we got way too rowdy when we was all together like that. Said we got into too much trouble. I don't know if we did or not, we prob'ly did, but Granny and Grandaddy didn't seem to care if we did or not. And they shore didn't at the changin' of the season.

There was a bunch of us cousins back then, eight or ten as I remember, and we was all about the same size. When we was still little, we'd pile up in that back bedroom at Granny's, the one that had the big featherbed Oh, that featherbed was a fine thing. She'd always make it up sidewaysards when we was together like that and there'd be six or seven of us piled up head to foot on it. The two or three biggest ones of us would sleep on pallets on the floor, what little sleepin' was done that night. We always thought gettin' to sleep on the floor was a big deal. You wasn't allowed to sleep on the floor when you was little so when you got finally got big enough, we thought it was a sign you was about grown.

Not that it made any difference in the amount of sleep you got. There wasn't none of us got much sleep on them nights anyway, what with all of us carryin' on the way we did. I guess that's what our mamas and daddies was talkin' about. We'd be back there gigglin' and pokin' one another in the ribs, keepin' each other awake 'til all hours of the night. Why I reckon sometimes we didn't get to sleep 'til ten or 'leven o'clock. Then, about the time we'd get settled down some, Grandaddy would come in there bangin' a big spoon on one of Granny's pots and wake us all up.

That prob'ly sounds strange to you, but him wakin' us up like that was my favoritest part. I knowed that Granny would have biggest ol' breakfast fixed that you ever saw. It didn't matter if it was the middle of the night, when we woke up she had everthing ready and on the table—aigs and sausage and hawg jaw bacon, biscuits and gravy and grits and surp and I don't know what all. It was more stuff than all of us could eat, I know that. There was always lots of coffee, too, but it wasn't like the coffee everbody drinks nowadays. Granny's coffee was the kind where you throw a handful of coffee in a pot of water and boil it 'til it turns black. It was kinda strong to my way of thinkin', but that wasn't no problem. I'd just skim a little cream off'n the top of the milk and pour it in it 'til I got it where I wanted it.

I'll tell you that it was one fine breakfast. I mean fine. I can just about taste it now. Grandaddy called it his changin' of the season midnight breakfast. I think it was after midnight, like on toward three or four o'clock, but it was a special breakfast, and we all had to get up and eat a good stout breakfast so we'd be ready to meet spring head on. And we did.

We'd eat till we couldn't eat no more, 'til maybe four or five o'clock, still before sunup, and then Grandaddy would take us all out on the front porch. We'd line up along the edge of the porch and keep a watch out toward the east. We'd dangle our feet off the edge and wait for the sun to come up. 'Course that was still a ways off, but Grandaddy would tell us stories about what it was like in the olden days, back when he was a boy, and we'd set there listenin' and hangin' on ever word, waitin' for sunup. Finally it'd lighten up and we'd watch 'til it finally peeked over the edge of the world and when it did, we'd jump up and holler as loud as we could.

Ah, them was the good ol' days. People don't do things like that no more I guess. I know I don't. There ain't nobody up here on the place but me and my mule Rosebud and I shore ain't gonna wake her up in the middle of the night so we can go set on the porch and wait for sunup. Not hardly.

But it don't matter. I've still got them good ol' days up here in my head. Always will, I reckon.

You can contact Pete and Rosebud by email at
bstover43@yahoo.com