“Uncle Lawnmower” is what some of the cousins called my Uncle Elmore. He thought it was funny. He thought most things were funny.

Here’s “Uncle Lawnmower”, his wife, my Aunt Rose (my grandpa’s aunt), and #4 Daughter, the future Sara Marian.

Uncle Elmore retired from a factory job in Louisville. When people asked him if he made good money, he always said, “Sure I make good money. I just don’t make very much of it.”

He retired to Leitchfield, Kentucky, along with Aunt Rose, where they had a nice house not far from town and a primitive house out in the country, which I detested in my youth. I used to hate the country, as if we were born enemies. We’ve since smoked the pipe of peace and love each other. Back then, though, the sound of crickets drove me mad, and crawdads were minions of Satan.

ANYWAY, they called their country house Mammy Yokum’s cabin, with Aunt Rose being Mammy Yokum.

One day, when I was old enough to enjoy the country, we went down and visited, and I snapped this picture. I asked Uncle Elmore if this was his truck garden, and he enjoyed the joke so much, he repeated it every summer.

I don’t think he even cleaned the back of that truck out; it was too much fun.

A WRITING PROMPT FOR YOU: Something a character despises as a child is a pleasure as an adult.

MA