If I Have Learned One Thing This Afternoon…

If I have learned one thing this afternoon, aside from that the Butcher has a box problem, it’s that Kentucky women should not be fucked with. Holy shit.

I’ve been reading about Big and Little Harpe who were two brothers/cousins back in the day who were like if the Mansons and John Wayne Gacy had kids, just running around though Kentucky, Tennessee, and Southern Illinois murdering people like a two man/three wife apocalypse (though in fairness to the wives, it’s not clear they killed anyone). In Kentucky, Big Harpe was finally decapitated by a guy whose wife and kids the Harpes had murdered. His body was left on a hill to rot–a hill that is along Harps Hill Road.

And his head was stuck on a pole north of Dixon, Kentucky.

The younger brother’s head was eventually stuck on a pole along the Natchez Trace.

Years go by, and there’s Big Harp’s head, now just a skull. And some old Kentucky hill woman, the legend goes, took his skull to grind up for medicine, aka magic. And it worked.

But reading about all these outlaws made me wish I had a reader who worked at the State Museum, because, according to the internet, they have some dude’s finger. I would love a tour of all the weird crap the museum has. Fingers, mummies, other mysterious stuff.

Man, I can’t imagine what it would be like to go pluck that skull off a pole. You’d either have to be brave, desperate, or so used to that kind of thing it didn’t even phase you. Any option makes my head spin.

Some Thoughts on Garage Cleaning-Out

One the one hand, it sucks to just have one trash can in which to put things. On the other hand, it means I can only clean for about 40 minutes, which, really, does not suck. The thing I find perplexing though is that the Butcher seems to have kept every large box that has entered our house. I found them all tucked behind the chainsaw.

And now, as I look into the dining room, I notice that there are three boxes in there that I have no idea what the hell they are.

Am I unjustified in wondering if this is what’s happening at my house when I’m not home, substitute one brother for the cat?

Should I send him to boxhab? Can non-cats go to boxhab? Can non-cute things? Not that the Butcher isn’t cute, but he’s not kitten cute, you know? I’m just saying, you come home to find a kitten in a box in your living room and you’re like “Aw, that’s weird, but cute!” You come home to find the Butcher in a box in your living room and you’re like “Kids, stay in the kitchen! And call the police!” Unless you put him in the box, in which case, of course, I’m hoping he’s found a way to call the police himself.

Anyway, I’m trying to be merciless about throwing stuff out. This is made much easier by the discovery that 50% of the boxes at the end of the garage are empty. But my garbage can is full anyway. I feel like I’m about a third done, but maybe less than that. I’ve found a couple of boxes we probably just need to put in the attic, in case of flooding. But everything else, if it’s not a garage item and I don’t say “Oh, thank god. I was wondering where that was.” is going in the trash.

Still haven’t found the pictures of my grandma’s parents, though, which I’m a little bummed out about.

Perfect Lunch

I spent all morning at the mechanic’s, because they’re first come first serve and I got there at a quarter til 8 instead of a quarter til 7 like I should have. But I don’t yet have to replace my belt, so that’s nice.

But on the way home, I was all “What can I do for lunch?” and I had this hankering for hummus. But by then… by then I was out by the Bordeaux Kroger. But they had hummus! And baby carrots and, while they didn’t have pita bread, they did have pita chips.

And when I ate these things, I felt like both the satisfaction of lunch and the satisfaction of finding “strange” foods at the Bordeaux Kroger.

As a side note, I will say that it may be time to have some satellite farmers markets in Nashville or something, because traffic around there was a mess, people just stopped in the middle of the intersection, some fool backing up down the road, folks trying to turn left from the right lane.

Obviously, it’s popular enough. Maybe we need more.