Cats in the Barn

Another Saturday night...another party.

It's just what we do between the end of SEC football in January's National Championship game and the start of another season at the end of August. Carwfish Boils begin in March, graduations...then the weddings start. We were at three cookouts last weekend. The Boy's been to five birthday parties in the last three weeks.

Last night was a wedding.



Mmmm...mmmm...mmmmmmm.

Obviously very different surroundings than last week's bonfire. There weren't enough go-carts for The Boy...



...I wouldn't say there were no fireworks though.



Any time you have a room full of women prancing around, and no woman ever pranced like a Southern woman, well....heeheehee.

We had the pleasure of spending the evening with these lovely ladies.

Listen...the best thing about being a man, hands down, is the company of women. I have a few of male friends...and I cherish them but, without a different perspective existence would be dreadful.I'm sure I'm guilty of "othering"...and while all this sounds cute, it's really a latent expression of sexism. Whatever...real or precieved, I love the difference. Not only is it one of life's great pleasures...it has practical benefits too.

I'll give you an example from this morning. We're having an open house today. That means I have to clean roof off and the yard up...which meant I had to deal with this...



I had already broken the limbs of when the next door neighbor sticks his head over the fence and offers the use of his chainsaw.

"Excuse me? I may not be the most fastidious yard keeper but this is my yard...guess you're hoping you'll have to tell me how to use it? What's next? You wanna come throw the football with my son...maybe take my wife dancin'? Keep your tools in your yard."

That's what I was thinking anyway as I told him thanks, but..."I'm just gonna break it. It's pretty dry."

After three attempts at trying to break it, I got fed up and went for a square. As I returned to the back yard and still not able to reconcile myself to borrowing another man's chainsaw...I see Martha with it in her hand.

"Look honey...the neighbor's letting us use his chainsaw."

Thirty seconds later the limb was cut into managable peices and the chore was finished.


Y'all can laugh...but you ladies have got some peculiarly feminine quirks. None of which tickle me more than this business of being catty.

Let's return to the ladies above. What do you reckon they're talkin' about? It couldn't possibly be another lady at the party...certainly not the tiny dress she's wearing...or, as J.Q. described it "a tunic."

"I think I just saw her butt cheeks."

HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHA...perfect.