Moody Monday's A Cup of Cheer With a Splash of Orneriness

tlpoague

This has been one of those rack a brain, sprain a marble, fry a last memory cell kind of mornings, to come up with a topic for this newest addition of Moody Monday. I haven't really been in a mood except for being tired, if tired was a mood. Even digging deep to find something humorous wasn't working. So...it was back to FaceBook to jiggle my creativity into motion. Instead, I caught myself drooling in a stupor while scrolling for ideas.

  Halfway down my feed I found my inspiration in the request of a story on my Poague heritage. (For those that know me by now know I can't pass on a tasty story.) This tantalizing challenge sparked my mood...a cup of cheer...with a splash of orneriness.

  This may turn into a long winded one, so I recommend grabbing a cup of java, hitting the bathroom, and settling in your favorite comfy chair for an adventure of...Big Nam...aka...my dad. (I know, I said I would find a new nickname for him, but nothing has struck my fancy yet...sorry Dad!)

  My dad is one of those guys that can walk into a room and catch everyone's attention without trying. He has a booming voice with a personality to match. Everything about him is large...from the way he looks...to the way he lives his life. One of the charming things I love about my dad is the way he can tell a story. Including his ability to tell on himself, which happens every time he has an adventurous moment, and a group of ears to listen.

  So, I present...

Big Nam and the Lawnmower.

Photo by tlpoague

  Big Nam is not a little man by any means. He's leveled out at six feet, three inches tall, and roughly 320 pounds. He is what we call fluffy. Upon his latest doctor's visit, he found that he has to sleep with an oxygen mask on. (Thus he looks like an alien while laying down with his mask on and large hoses connecting to his machine.)
  One night we experienced one tsunami of a rainstorm. Nam was sawing logs a neighbor could hear when the power went out. Grunting and wallowing out of bed, he groped around in the dark looking for his cloths. He needed to start up his back up generator to keep his machine going.
  When he couldn't find his desired attire, he fumbled around his room—bumping into his bed and dresser—looking for a flashlight. That failed as well. It left him no choice but to stumble into the dark, down pouring rain to find his way to his generator.
  He used colorful language- while stubbing a toe or two- as he made his way to his truck where he turned on the headlights. This lit up part of the yard, but mostly the neighbor's windows. He attempted to fire up his generator, only find it out of gas.
  Frustrated, out of breath, and creating new words, he nit-picked his way through the debris scattered about in his yard till he found his riding lawnmower. Luckily enough it came roaring to life with the first turn of the key. Off he went across his yard in search of the gas can.
  Wet and grumbling he found his can. After a few wide maneuvers and u-turns, he headed back towards the house. In his journey back, and blinded by his headlights, he miss judged how close he was to his tomatoes in his garden.
  The blades of the lawnmower caught a nearby metal tomato tower. It ripped the tower from the ground, uprooting the tomato plant. His blades proceeded to wrap itself around the tower- shooting sparks as he drove.
  Nam now worried about lighting himself up. Sparks flying, he floored the mower to maximum power, tower trailing behind, till he reached his porch step. He shut off the mower, giving it a colorful lecture. Grunting as he peeled his wet backside from the leather seat; he grabbed the can and within minutes has his generator running.
  He hadn't more than twisted the gas cap on when the neighbor hood lit up with a flood of lights. In a panic, he glanced around to see if anyone was watching him. Sure enough, next door, he seen a curtain flutter.
  There was his neighbor...a little old lady. Her eyes wide open and mouth ajar in surprise. He glanced down at himself. Lit up like a Christmas tree, he made quite a picture as he stood mud splattered, sopping wet. Rain still rolling down his curves and only his boots on.

  I have to say, my poor cousin had tears in her eyes, snorting with laughter, as she attempted to tell me this story my dad had shared the following morning. I choked on my coffee as the images burned in my mind with every detail. This was one for the record books.

tlpoague 2014

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