Possumhaw: Books ‘R’ Us

There is a man who often mails books, and when the postal clerk asks the obligatory, “Is there anything hazardous or flammable in the package?” He answers, “Yes, words.”

Possumhaw: The dark night of Christmas

For days he asked, “Is it Christmas yet?”

“No Daddy, still two more days.”

Our roles were reversed; now the daddy asked the child, “Is it Christmas yet?”

Possumhaw: Home remedy for the common cold

The Bardwells were cooped up on the weekend with colds. Since Sam and I were both sick we scratched around the house looking for something we could do. We wrote Christmas cards, wrapped presents, watched football games and a Christmas movie while passing the Kleenex box back and forth.

Possumhaw: All gone but the memories

“It wasn’t always an island,” Sam explained. “The channel redirected the Tombigbee River cutting off Highway 82 and creating the island.” On a cold Sunday afternoon drive Sam shared 50-year-old memories.

Possumhaw: The lady in the funky sweater

“Standing in the checkout line, I watched as a white-haired lady began to put her groceries on the conveyor belt. She caught my attention because her sweater was funky and full of life. She’d already put a few items on the counter when the cashier said, ‘I’m sorry, ma’am. I’m closing.”

Possumhaw: A day with the ladybugs

One ladybug chased the other, and this made me think that perhaps I had captured a male and a female. I’m no entomologist, but I’m thinking maybe.

Possumhaw: Ladybug, fly away home

Ladybugs swarmed by the thousands. They whirled around the porch ceiling; they crawled on the side of the house, the garage, the boat shed. Ladybugs landed on our arms. When one took flight, three took its place.

Possumhaw: Live trapping beaver

Critters were building huts in the dam. Be it nutria or beaver, I thought I could trap it in my live trap.

Possumhaw: Fox by the tail

I watched for the rising and lowering of the fox’s side for some sign of breath. I thought there was none, but you want to be sure before you grab a fox by the tail. I learned my lesson once with a possum.

Possumhaw: A sight for Cec to see

Shirley, my walking partner, invites some online friends to stay with her about once or twice a year. Cec (short for Cecilia) came from Toronto, Canada, and was the first to arrive.

Possumhaw: Living the good life

Campers are an interesting lot. They’ve always been the nicest folks — they share, they help, they send Christmas cards.

Possumhaw: Fall fishing at the creek

“Nose into the wake,” Sam hollered. We were out for a little kayak fishing on Bear Creek when three fancy bass boats sped by. As luck would have it, there was a bass tournament going on.

Possumhaw: Living quietly in the Prairie

“The sole cause of man’s unhappiness is that he does not know how to stay quietly in his room.” Blaise Pascal.

Possumhaw: Predators prowl the Prairie

Leah stuck her bill into the broken egg and hoisted it up high. She shoved off into the water and paddled as fast as her webbed feet would take her. On the bank she carried the egg into the grass where she ate the egg, shell and all.

Possumhaw: Gardening is not for pansies

Just the other day Tjajuan Boswell was working on the flowered medians in downtown Columbus. Heat radiated at 107 degrees, and she was working like a Trojan. With the back of her forearm she wiped sweat from her brow. I complimented her on how wonderful the flowers looked and thanked her for her efforts to beautify the city. It’s no easy job.

Possumhaw: The wayward fawn

Susan sat in the chair facing the woods. “Look!” she said, “There’s a deer, no bigger than a dog looking in the window.”

Possumhaw: An olive jar of zinnias

We wound our way through the woods to Willis Pope’s garden. Willis and Carolyn were out of town, but walking partner Shirley had permission to glean from their garden.

Possumhaw: Misty day in the Prairie

Not many folks would show up in the misting rain for a Gator ride, but Dianne Patterson did. She was dressed in rain jacket and green rubber shoes. I offered an umbrella, but she slid her pale blue hood over her head.

Possumhaw: Sometimes you take your chances

The snake raised its head and looked at me — and that was his second mistake. I’d been noticing the goldfish were disappearing over several days, so I knew he was somewhere in the pond. I stomped back to the house and told Sam my fish were disappearing and I had seen the snake.

Possumhaw: T.C. had a healin’

Sometimes you get a wild hair. I wish I could say it doesn’t happen often, but frankly, it does.