Wednesday, October 3, 2018

Just A Swingin'

Listening to my favorite radio station here in Georgia today I heard the song Just A Swingin by John Anderson.  As I listen to this song, it brought back a whole buncha memories from my childhood and  one more recent than that.  I have no idea  where I'm going with this or what my lesson will be but might as well buckle up buttercup and find out.

Just a swingin' reminds me of growing up and visiting my grandmother.  I can't say for sure, but I think every house they lived had a swing on the front porch.  My Aunt and me loved to get in that swing and swing for hours, solving all the problems two little kids could have.  We always tried to make our feet touch the ceiling of the porch.  When my Mama Highfield would catch us doing it, she would come tell us we better stop that before that swing pulls out and we get hurt.  Of course, being the good children that we were, we would "slow down"  while she was standing there, but that lasted about as long as it took her to walk back in the house.  Two little girls just a swingin' to high heaven.

That brings me to my porch swingin' as an adult.  It was going to be a girls night out to see Merle Haggard in concert at the Lanierland County Music Park in Cumming, Ga.   We were waiting on a couple of the other friends to meet up so me and another friend were swingin' in the front porch swing.  I told friend # 2 what  my Mama Highfield would say... we better stop swingin' so high, we gonna pull this thing right out of the ceiling.  Just about the time these words came out of my mouth, that dadgum swing fell out of the ceiling, friend # 2 AND the swing came right down on my left foot.  Needless to say, I couldn't hardly walk and they wanted me to go to the ER but heck no, I got to see Merle 'cause he's getting old.  I convinced them I wasn't going to the ER, so off to the concert we go.

I made it through the concert and back to the scene of the crime.  Keep in mind I'm in a lot of pain but I ain't going to no ER at 1:00 in the morning or so I thought.  I finally dozed off to sleep and friend # 3, who's house I'm sleeping,  big ole cat comes bouncing in on my bed right on top of my poor hurt foot.  I screamed to the top of my lungs and friend # 3 came running.  Poor cat landed somewhere in the next room I think.  Needless to say I finally gave in and friend # 3 took me to the ER.  The nurse kept moving my foot around and of course every time he did I would scream in pain.  After what seemed like forever I guess he got tired of me complaining he was killing me, he said and I quote, "you sure are a whiner."   Y'all that know me know that didn't go over very well.  I came unglued and  I politely told him the WHOLE story and how long it had been since that swing and friend # 2 fell on me.  The ER did not diagnose a broke foot so Nurse hurt me all you can sent me home in a lace up shoe which was about as stable as a wobbly wheel with a missing spoke.  So I hobbled around a day or two and finally went to an orthopedic doctor who confirmed my suspicion of a broke foot and put me in a boot for 8 week.   Guess nurse Hurt me all you can wasn't as smart as he thought.

Lesson today?  You may not have these crazy kinda memories of a front porch swing but if you are lucky enough to have a swing, call a friend, swing a spell,  share some stories and have a glass of sweet tea 'cause ya'll know what they say here in the South.  We don't hide crazy...we parade it around on the front porch and give it sweet tea.  Now go ahead swing high to the heavens, laugh out loud and make some memories.  Make my Mama Highfield proud with your feet touching the ceiling.  But don't swing too long 'cause you know what might happen and I really don't want you to meet Nurse hurt me all you can.  LOL

  Love to all,
  Sweet Southern Sass

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