Cracklin’ Bread

Trying to get in shape sometimes brings about the realization one may need to lose a few pounds and since, like the song, I don’t look good naked anymore, I decided to go on a diet.
I have been going to the Wellness Center for quite some time and have discovered there are some real weirdos who inhabit that place each morning starting about 6:30. 
I started off just trying to rehabilitate my knee but then began following a body builder’s lead in exercising. 
He comes every morning and is an odd duck if ever there was one, totally lacking in moral fiber, but there are any number of others that bear watching, also. 
Like the one I call Kudzu. She comes in with her lips flapping and goes out the same way, but like real life kudzu, she grows on you. I love her to death.
There is another one I named ‘the Owl’. 
He never speaks, he just glides around silently and pops up behind you when you least expect it. He gives me the creeps. 
By being here and observing these and other characters each morning, I am not only getting physical therapy but psychological healing at the same time because I now know there are people out there even crazier than I am. 
It is all these weirdos that make life interesting and the morning workout go faster as you await whatever is liable to happen. 
Trying to get in shape sometimes brings about the realization one may need to lose a few pounds and since, like the song, I don’t look good naked anymore, I decided to go on a diet.
I knew it would be a struggle because of the cracklin’s. 
You see, for only 17 bucks you can order three pounds of bar none the best cracklings on earth, Clifty Farm brand, delivered to your door which UPS did just one week before my decision to diet.
I had started this diet when in the late morning of the third day of it, dizzy and disoriented by malnourishment, I talked myself into making for lunch just one small hoecake of cracklin’ bread with diced jalapeno. 
I rationalized that since it was to be a small hoecake and that if I ate nothing else the rest of the day, it would have no adverse effect on my weight loss.
Sliding it out of the spider, I sat down and poured about half a bottle of Jake Crenshaw’s Special cane syrup over the whole thing and ate all but one small slice which I opted to save for my wife who was off making us a living. However, along in late afternoon and feeling dizzy again, I decided it was best to finish that small piece, clean up the kitchen so as to destroy all evidence of cooking, and then as soon as the wife came in from work, to tell her I wasn’t eating any supper, as I was dieting. 
I did this and she complimented me on my discipline and physique to be and then said, “I am really hungry. Would you make me a hoecake of cracklin’ bread, sweetheart? I don’t want to tempt you since you are dieting, but I really have a craving for cracklin’ bread. I’ll make it worth your while.”
Of course I made her a hoe cake and, upon disciplining myself to eating just one small slice at supper, was told “It is so good to live with a man of such discipline and strength of character. Most men would not care about their appearance and would have eaten all they could hold because it is so good.”
I humbly accepted her praise and the “special gift’ she bestowed on me later that evening.
Married life can be wonderful, cracklin’ bread is a gift from God, and, yes, I know, I am a dog.
 
Wednesday, August 31, 2016

The Douglas Enterprise

P.O. Box 750
Douglas, Georgia 31534

Phone: (912) 384-2323
Fax: (912) 383-0218