The Original Prairie Woman

In case you haven't noticed I'm using this site to preserve every precious memory that I can. I've always loved to write the stories about my kids and save them for later use, lest I need to blackmail them, or stroll down memory lane. I've always planned on writing about my Grandma Irene, The Original Prairie Woman, but I never get around to it. So, today when nothing exciting has happened thus far, and I feel compelled to verbalize with someone I will tell you about this lovely woman.

My grandma is really a source of endless stories... the paper jewelry I used to cut out of magazines for dress-up at her house... the card tables she set up thousands of times for my cousin Jason & I to play house in...cupcakes for supper...ordering Bill Cosby's Picture Pages for me to do along with him during Captain Kangaroo...two packets of cocoa mix per cup make it better (one just isn't sweet enough. Can I get a Hallelujah, amen!)...Well, of course I could go on and on, but you get my point.

This story involves my grandma, who's Indian name should be Shewhokillsasnake or Shootsmanyarmadillos. Grandma turned 88 this summer. She also told me about her pesky armadillos this summer.

Did you know armadillos jump really high? They do flips in the air and everything. In fact, this is why you hit them driving down the road. They panic and jump up and...bam!...no more armadillo. I actually had a friend who's van had a mysterious dead animal smell. You guessed it, there was a dead armadillo wedged in her undercarriage! Yuck.

But, I've digressed...as usual...we were talking about Shootsmanyarmadillos. Apparently when Grandma shoots the armadillos under her trees they jump really high in the air, then run under her spreading cedar. At least she thinks she's shooting different armadillos. She said maybe she misses the same one over and over and it runs for cover. Oh, tears of laughter are clouding my vision as I picture my little Grandma toting the rifle out to go 'dillo hunting of an evening.... You just don't get much classier than that. But that's the thing...she is "classy," but she also sees what needs to be done, and she does it!

Take a rattle snake in the house....Yep, in the house. In the summer of 1995 (lots of great things happened that summer) there were rattlesnakes in the panhandle like crazy. I don't know how many Dad & I killed that summer (Okay, I mostly fetched Dad and prayed for his safety as he killed them.) However, there was literally an infestation of snakes at my grandparents. I'm telling you, they must have killed a snake a day.

Well, Grandad went out to supervise my dad working, (yes, supervise...he was very good at that) and he left through the living room door. Now, this door had a hydraulic closure on it...you know, you walk away and it closes a moment later. Well, Grandma walked into the living room, and there was a snake, stuck in the door. She, being the great prairie woman, recognized it as a rattler right away. Grandad was gone, no one's around, and if she left that snake unattended, it might slip on in. So, she pulled the door shut until it latched with the snake hissing and rattling like nobody's business.

Now, Grandma can't just leave the snake there. What if it somehow gets free and is loose in the house? So, she got the 22 rifle, pinned that snake's head to the floor (picture pristine white carpet here) and blew it's brains out. When I came over later that day, she said "Look, you can't even see any blood in the carpet...It all came out!" I tell you what-those murderers on television need to talk to my grandma about how to clean up blood splatter!

Yep! That's Grandma Irene...The Original Prairie Woman.

Proverbs 31:25 She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come.