GA Growhead said:
Im so sorry Annie.
Thank you, Jay. How goes that mongster grow of yours!!
Fremp said:
Sorry Annie
I'll keep you and your family in my prayers!
Kyle, thanks, hon. How's it hangin' in my adopted Republic? Again, thank you!
romy6 said:
Keeping you in my mind and sending some fresh peppers Tuesday in there Honor
Jamie, sweet Jamie, thank you. The peppers, thank you! Johnny would prefer a box of peppers to flowers. BTW, he loved Madballz too: you sent two and he and I halved one. (He dropped by to get away from mad-house of grandchildren who got kicked out of jail . . .) Next year's Madballz grow from your seed is dedicated to Johnny--
I know you have no more MBZ this year--just saying--the man drank some Maalox and went at that one. LOVED IT. We were doing a nightstalk for crappie late last summer, nights getting cooler; I took a yellow brainstrain on boat. 'Round midnight got out the fried chicken, I cut that YBS open and told him to just take a nibble. Hell, he had a halogen headlamp to
see the oil, the man could
smell. No half measures: he popped the entire half in his mouth. I was screaming "NO!" and ya know how sound echoes on water--got some attention from other stalkers--and then
he got some attention. He didn't yell, but he could curse to put Shane's Sailors to absolute shame. I heard some had never heard in my life, when he could talk. As it hit the back of his throat, he couldn't. He got a hit, rod went down, I yanked it up, threw crappie in l-well, and was worried about him. Finally leaning back on his seat, he went, "G-damn, hon, them is some purdy stars! Look at 'em Annie! Never seen stars so bright in my life! Oh child, that wind feels
good. Hotdamn!" He was high as Hogan's goat. I don't know if he remembers our haul that night while it happened, but he wouldn't come off water until daybreak. His wife called, asked me what happened to him because he slept for 2 days. I played dumb and reckoned he was just tired.
I took him some yellow bhuts I had left over last fall. Went in to his store, had some keys made for him, dropping them off; Johnny was giving away free yellow bhuts to customers with floor and carpet samples! "Naw: it ain't too bad hot. My niece grew 'em. A little hotter than a jalapeño." The throng left, I tossed keys on his desk, and said, "You ain't even right, man." That glitter-grin twinkling in those blue eyes just like Mawmaw's. Have already called Tim, his SIL, who grows supers (which didn't know until my grandmother's funeral), to go get Johnny's plants that I gave him to either overwinter or try to save, as that crowd of "people" down there . . . care about nothing and nobody, living. You'd have liked him, Jamie. He did folks solids (maybe too much with those who . . . never mind), had friends he hunted, fished with who were doctors, specialists, and those who worked in factories; took care of my great-uncle, Marine, WWII, married an English woman during war who was killed in bombings, never remarried, here, anywhere. A.G. was a big handful of quirks but Johnny loved him and in the end, completely followed A.G.'s wishes, even if it po'ed my grandmother.
When his oldest daughter, a few years younger than me, was a yr. old, they diagnosed, severe handicap. She'd never walk, talk. John and his wife kept her at home until she was 18. The only option after that was WCC for "children." Not a day went by in that child's life, that Johnny didn't go up to see her. I mean if he was sick or something, missed a day (she was smart, just couldn't express it verbally), she'd not look at Johnny for an hour, then get over it. She died from pneumonia a couple of years ago, nearly killed the man. It's a high-dollar facility but most people just dump "kids" there and forget them. Or a lot do. Pam and he are running around with my grandmother, and my other uncles, getting stuff ready to go camping at the lake, while my grandfather gets the boat ready.
And Johnny's telling his other brothers that a yellow brainstrain is no hotter than a jalapeño and at least Wayne is probably believing him; the others are betting he's lying and can't wait to try it!
stc3248 said:
Sorry lady...keep on keepin on. Get after those crappie like he told you...he'll be there too.
Oh, I will Shane. Thank you! You should have heard A.G. (WWII Marine my great-uncle) and Johnny ('Nam, Navy) go at it. A.G. always called Johnny "Squid-face" or Squid-f**er or and John would just cuss him back--terms of endearment. All Johnny ever said about it was just throwing lime on bodies, going up the rivers, collecting . . .
I do fine on water. I don't get sea-sick. Gone grouper, snapper gulf Florida and others, OBX. Johnny asked me if I wanted to go with him few years ago, with some of his buddies, deep sea fishing off OBX. I could have my own room, privacy--John was protective of women--or me. One owns a 50+' Hatteras, lives there. We barely made it out of Oregon Inlet when one of the mountain boys got sick. Now, we had a ton of chum, July, tuna, dolphin, yellerfin. So John tells that guy to go to bow, hold on to rail with one hand and "feed the fish." Yeah. But with the wind, uh, not only was the bait coming back at us . . . so. Mate popped that guy with something, guy was
out. Method in Johnny's madness? Only 3 fighting chairs.
Since he worked for Sam, collecting bodies, when he came home, he drove an ambulance, back in day, did stuff I couldn't have done; funeral home and ambulance service connected (they also sold furniture--you know how we combine stuff in NC); so Johnny decided to mess with this co-worker who was squeamish, aka, John had to do all the nasty work. So to be, just
Johnny, he went, flipped light off, laid down on a slab, covered up, waited for the co-worker to come in and slowly moved, began to rise. Dude freaked and took down double-oak doors getting out. Johnny paid for the doors.
To begin to list his pranks that scared sh**t outta people: suffice it to say, I never believed much of what he or my uncles told me, as I learned young that they were messin.' "I gotta bite right here." No, he didn't. I found a better spot than he had at the moment and no! He stuttered, ticked, "G-g-g-d-d-amn, g-girl, I l-l-learnt ya t-too g-g-good." I guess he did. Took me rabbit hunting with him when I was 12 or so. Just .22's. He shot a rabbit, uh, stuck a stick up its . . . and stuck stick in ground. Came back and said, "Look 'ere, girl!" I shot the ever-lovin' Hades outta that dead rabbit. Poor ole shot up . . . he laughed, doubled over, and just him laughing and that blown to bits rabbit . . . I laughed too. Last time I believed much of anything he told me to do, our "understanding." Or mine. Because I got even! He'd go fishing with some buddy and call me, ask where I caught those good 2 lber. channel cat and I'd lie. He'd call on his cell from boat around 1am, and after cussing me, ask me where I really caught 'em. They'd only blown several hours on water; I'd tell him that he was in the wrong part of the lake, how come he couldn't listen to me, that I meant . . . and he cussed me, told me he loved me, and they went to right spot. He thought it was hilarious that I could play back with him.
I'm sorry for taking up so much space here . . . but you'd have liked the man, Shane. Like I told Jamie, gotta wonder good stuff about somebody who downs half a brainstrain and likes it, gives away my yellow bhuts, after he's made the sauce he wanted, to customers who came in for flooring samples, telling them that it was a new type of jalapeño, a "little hotter."
Yep: gonna have to hit the lake one night in honor of John. Thank you.
Sawyer said:
Thank you, Arksaw.
And I promise: do have a few peppers turning and will post pics soon. And should have some ferments started soon too. Thanks, guys: so many of you remind me of my uncles, and particularly Johnny. Much peace.
by even saying this. Gonna smoke some of the SB's and varieties like that with allspice berries tossed on apple wood to get jerk flavor in smoked pods, others not gonna. Shane and you have so inspired me with SB ferments and MoA dried pods, dangyuns! 
