With Appologies to Paula Deen

On the way out to the truck this morning I noticed the big white blooms on the tree beside my parking spot. You can have your magnolias, roses and lilies. Nothing holds a candle to the sweet perfume of a Catawba in bloom.
Pure heaven.
The Amazon will have to miss the nose tickling scents of blooming flowers. She brought home some kinda Greensboro born, snot churning crud, acting as though she's got typhoid fever or the black plague. In an effort to avoid any contact with her germs, I've gone sorta slap happy with the Lysol, which leads to Ma yelling from her end of the trailer, "WHAT ARE YOU SPRAYING???"
Ma has a sensitivity to aerosol, scented candles and perfume. A fact she's quick to remind me of on a regular basis.
Sorry Ma, I don't have time to deal with being sick.
Oooo.. I almost forgot. Bubbles came back from vacation with a new hair style. She got it frosted ya'll. Not highlighted.. no.. frosted.
Who knew they still did that?
She got it cut too. Adding to the effect, she came in this morning with clam diggers and something resembling a maternity top. She looks like Paula Deen.
Now, don't misunderstand me. I love Paula Deen. Adore her. I bow to her culinary genius and her appreciation of butter. I think she's a beautiful, southern woman. But she ain't 30 ya'll. And Bubbles is.
When I saw her leaving the office yesterday with her long flowing granny dress and sneakers, (it was Wednesday, church night) climbing up in to her bubbahubby's ginormous pick up (she broke something on her Jeep Box, so it was in the shop...but I'm not laughin',) I commented to the Amazon (she kept my truck yesterday) on Bubbles' granny dress and Paula Deen hair.
The Amazon thought I was being mean.
I'm going to chalk it up to the cold medication.
Anywho.. I'm off to face the day. And find some allergy drugs.
It had better be allergies.
Later Taters.