BURP

Oops. My apologies. How unladylike, especially on a day like Mothers Day.

Herself's family had their almost-annual Death-by-Food gathering but instead of the usual small, intimate crowd of 100 plus, this one was scaled back to a quiet afternoon of maybe 20.

Instead of the normal ton and a half of pork ribs, an untold number of chickens sacrificed their lives legs and thighs for "The Mayor's ," Herself's father's, barbeque magic.

The Mayor himself built the smoker / grill he uses, starting with the shell of an old hot water heater he salvaged from someone's house when he was putting in a new one. When this one eventually gives out, he'll do the same thing he did when the last one did. Build another one just like it.

Whether beef, pork or chicken (or gator) The Mayor only cooks with oak. Real oak. I don't know if he goes out into the woods to gather it himself anymore, though. He's got two big strappin' grandsons to do it for him.

Potato salad, cole slaw, baked beans, cucumber salad, rolls and dessert (Dump Cake and / or Strawberry Shortcake.)

The mass feeding frenzy finished up shortly before one o'clock. For the rest of the afternoon when not doing something else, people went back periodically to grab another plate of whut.ever.

The grandsons occasionally went out toward the marsh to see if fish might be biting or shrimp running. Son-in-law, who's leaving for downstate in the early ayem, put a cart together for Herself's mother.

Then they'd head back in and grab another plate of food, after which they'd return to what apparently turned out to be this afternoon's major entertainment: Da Kid and others trying to teach me Texas Hold ‘em.

I know how to play Poker. Kinda. I mean, I know what beats what but when it comes to actually playing I stink. Bad. Worse than bad.

Worster bad. (Worstest Bad will always belong to the Legend of Hubby's mother folding with two pair, of sevens.)

But I did pretty good today if I do say so myself. I actually won several hands, a couple of big pots, too, because since I don't know what the hell I'm doing, no one else knew what the hell I was doing either.

I had a good poker face, too, or that's what I was told. My facial expressions are totally inscrutable; however, it appears I need to work on body english.

Seems everybody at the table figured out I probably had a straight that hand because while looking at cards I had and those on on the table, I indicated repeatedly with my fingers I was counting from one to five.

Damn!

A great afternoon in a quite setting, my tummy filled repeatedly far beyond its normal capacity . . . I hope everyone's Mothers Day was as good as mine.