Don’t cast your pearls before wine
I swannee, my pearls broke and bounced all over tarnation and now I’m about to lose my mind trying to find them all. It wasn’t my every-day short strand I wear around the house, but instead, was the longer one inherited from my Great Aunt Vina Mae.
When Vina Mae passed away with no children of her own, the eligible cousins (those not living in the “gated community” in Atmore), gathered at her house and spread her valuable mementoes on the dining room table, then took turns selecting a few items we liked as a way to remember our Aunt.
Cousin John-Jack went first and chose a Case pocket knife left in our Aunt’s care by a long-forgotten beau, then Cousin Rosie Belle from Robertsdale got the next pick. I tried to give her the subliminal message; “Don’t pick the pearls — don’t pick the pearls!” I guess the message got through, because she chose a pretty emerald ring she now wears to her traditional worship service and admires as it sparkles when she holds her hymnal in the stained glass infused sunbeam.
My turn was next, and although Aunt Vina Mae’s cast iron skillet collection was tempting — and yes, as many of you understand, we consider the perfectly seasoned cast iron to be part of the “valuables,” I still pounced on the pearls. They are a warm creamy glow the color of hot grits, and also carry a sentimental memory of my Aunt wearing them when we would go shopping at Mason Morgan’s in Hartselle.
I’d been wearing Auntie’s pearls for about a year, and in the back of my mind knew I should have them restrung because the knots in-between the pearls had worn smooth, but I put it off, and now I’m sorry.
Since I had a day full of festive events, beginning with the Customer Appreciation Sale at Talbot’s, then lunch with the ladies and ending with an executive board meeting for the Committee for the Preservation of Loveliness, I decided the longer strand was more appropriate. In between all of my very important appointments, I also had to run to the Piggly Wiggly to restock my standard staples of the “red, white and blue” —red wine, White Lily Flour, and Blue . . . click HERE to finish the tale.
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