Return to TFB Main Page
Return to Current Edition
Texas Agriculture Archive

October 3, 2003

"I don't git it," Mel said. "Why is it people jist seem to ogle over you when they find out yore a writer? Why the way they go on, you'd thank you wuz a goddess er sump'n."

"Beats me," I shrugged. "I never noticed."

"Aw, come on. You lap up all that attention lahk a hongry hound."

"People are just being polite, making conversation. They appreciate all the hard work and effort that goes into my craft," I said.

Mel snorted. "Why, thur ain't nuttin' to it. Writin's easy as fallin" off a log backwards. The only requahrment is that you know how to tell a good story. An' you jist lucked out when you married an expert storyteller."

My husband preened a bit and waited for me to respond.

"Storytelling is one component all right, and there's no disputing the fact that you're pretty skilled at it."

"Yep. And it don't hurt to surround yoreself with innerstin' characters that do innerstin" thangs you can write about."

I could see a gleam in his eye.

"True. Wish I were that fortunate," I sighed.

"Admit it. Yore writin' career woulda been a dud without me."

I silently agreed. I thought about all Mel's antics, his tales, his idiosyncracies and quirks. It was my exasperation over all those things that drove me to fight back the only way I could–with a pen! And for reasons I still don't quite understand, it sort of caught on.

"You orta git down on yore knees ever' night and thank the Good Lord above that you got me instead o' some dull, tame critter that's borin' as the day is long. With a fellar lahk me aroun', you"ll never run short on subject matter."

"I"m struggling right now," I said.

"Hogwarsh! Thur's a story jist itchin' to be wrote. Maybe you jist got writer's block. They say the cure fer that is to jist start out typin' a few words an' purdy soon, you'll be blowin" an' goin'."

"I wish it were that easy," I told him. "That never seems to work for me."

"Maybe you orta gitcha a tape recorder an' tawk into it."

"About what?"

"Me of course, or you could eben write about us. You could start recallin' all 'em good tahms we had wormin' cattle an' stretchin' fence, an' haulin' hay, clearin' brush, an' the tahm we planted 'at pecan orchard at Brazos Point. Remember all the fun we had sharpenin' the blades on the shredder an' overhaulin' the transmission in the Bronco?"

I remembered all too well the splinters, blisters, cuts, stickers, grit and grime...the time a cow stepped on my foot and a scorpion hiding in a cedar fence post got me...and the time I backed into the electric fence...herdin' cows that wouldn't stay put...

"I made umpteen jillion trips to the parts place, the hardware store, the feed store and the vet's," I said, my temperature rising. "And think of all those hours I spent in the sale barn or waiting in Ol' Green while you dickered with somebody over a cow."

Mel grinned. "See, I knew it. All you needed was a li'l inspiration."