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"Me an' yore daddy wuz tawkin' th' other day 'bout how we jist don't ever have none 'em true blue northers in Texas lahk we used to," my husband said recently.
"Ah remember mah own Dad tellin' me 'bout one 'at hit when he wuz a kid. Said him an' his siblins' wuz pickin' cotton, when all of a sudden he looked up an' seen a blue norther a comin'. Humidity wuz high, an' th' temperture dropped so fast, he said the moisture froze a cloud solid an' it dropped out o' th' sky lahk a meteor.
"Them an' all thur neighbors run an' bundled up, hitched up thur wagons, an' come a runnin' back with thur pick axes. They commista breakin' up 'at big chunk o' ice into blocks an' took it home fer thur ice boxes."
"If it was so cold outside, what did they need an ice box for?" I asked.
"They knew once't the norther blowed on by, it maht be 70 degrees an' sunny on the backsahd. Anyhow, Daddy said when they wuz done haulin' ice, they rolled whut wuz left down the hill into a drah stock tank, an' later on, th' water wuz runnin' roun' the spillway. But Ah digress...
"The froze cloud hit the ground with sich a thud, it knocked all the pecans to the ground in the orchard, an' th' squirrels wuz havin' fist fahts. The wind had blowed both barn doors off an' the milk cow got out. Stripped all the cotton off the stalks an' it wuz pahled up aginst th' back wall o' the barn. Shelled the corn through a knothole, too. Dad said him an' Uncle Ewell wudda done cartwheels if thur boots hadn'ta been froze to the ground. Grandpa seen they wuz in a fix, so he started stackin' wood in a circle 'round 'em, doused it with kerosene oil an' set it afahr to warm up the ground sos they could git free."
"Quick thinking," I said.
"They got unstuck, but then they wuz trapped in a rang o' fahr, an' the wind wuz fannin' the blazes head high..."
"Oh my! What happened?"
"Well, that blasted wind had also blowed all the feathers off Grandma's hens an' they wuz nurly froze solid, so Grandpa started tossin' hens insahd 'at circle o' fahr to warm 'em up. Dad said him an' Uncle Ewell wuz beat black an' blue by 'em birds . The recovered chickens wuz squawkin' an' started layin' eggs. Dad an' Uncle Ewell started roastin' the chickens that didn't make it an' devilin' eggs. Said thur wuz plenty to feed the crowd that had gathered to watch."
"When th' water commista thawin', the neighbors all brought pails, put out the fahr, an' saved the boys."
"That's quite a story," I commented.
"Thur's more. Daddy said 'at's th' year Grandpa got his start o' polled Herefords. Seems th' norther froze th' horns off his bull. From then on, ever' calf borned on th' place was polled."
"By the way, what ever happened to the milk cow?" I inquired.
"Daddy said they kept hearin' her bellar, but didn't fahnd her 'til the next day. That big ol' froze cloud had fell on her an' drove her into the ground. Got a block an' tickle to hoist her up."
"Was she hurt?"
"Nope, but she never gave another drop o' milk in her natchurl lahf," said Mel, a smile moving across his lips. "After that norther, Dad said she only produced soft serve 'niller ice cream."
