you have a weasel in your refrigerator????????
Yup, you got it!! A weasel, or better yet and to be more specific, a least weasle. My brother, Scott, called me Thursday afternoon and asked had I gotten his pictures yet of the weasel that he discovered Wednesday evening in his fridge. Apparently, his barn cat got a hold of this weasel somewhere around the chicken coop and had done her barn cat job by killing the weasel. Scott's wife, Felicia discovered Miss Patsy's job well done and since my father was there to inform her that not only was it a weasel, but a least weasle, and "I haven't seen one of those in 40 years" she decided to take him to the taxidermist and have his hide tanned. Scott, unbeknowing to all this, thought that he would enjoy a glass of milk when he got home from work that evening and went to reach into the refrigerator for the milk when he got a surprise and this is what he found. Scott told me, in all confidentiality, that had he known that she was going to put a weasle in their fridge one day(Scott and Felicia just celebrated 16 years of marriage on April 17) that Felicia's chances for matrimony would have went waaayyy down!!!
Just some other info though regarding least weasles and that is they are the smallest of the weasle family and that in classical and medieval European mythology, it is sometimes said that the only thing which can kill a basilisk is a weasel, though it would be killed in the conflict as well. So, for all of you Harry Potter fans out there(and BTW, the latest movie is opening two days earlier!!!!!! jumping up and down here)this is a nice to know tidbit of random, useless information.
My mom came over on Friday evening and of course I had to tell her about the least weasel and the pictures that Scott had sent me which led to our discussion on what I was going to title this post. Personally, I liked "what's in your refrigerator" just like the Capital One ad "what's in your wallet" but once we got to reminising about other things that were redneck related I agreed with my mother and decided on "you might be a redneck if....". Now, without further ado I will give you a few more reasons to discern if you might come from redneck stock.
1. Obviously, if you open your fridge or freezer door and find some dead animal carcass or parts of the dead animal staring back at you you might be a redneck. In my lifetime it was normal to find either a dead turkey or deer head staring up at you when you opened the deep freeze. This was of course so that the deer head(or some other part) could go to the taxidermist to be stuffed and mounted. Not only was the heads of deer mounted but my dad also had a gunrack made of deer feet turned up to hold his guns. My, what a beautiful addition that would make in your home decor.(I'm saying this quite facetiously) Personally, the best use for them was to be able to hang your clothes that you couldn't put in the dryer from the horns. On a clothes hanger of course.
2. Anything is edible as long as you have gravy and fried onions with it. Deer, turkey, rabbit, squirrel and goodness knows what else is fair game. As my mother said on Friday night there was even an occasional groundhog served. Her father's personal fave was squirrel for Sunday breakfast and that he enjoyed the brains as well. Now, I'm one that likes liver, but even I think eating the brains of anything is going to far. I know, don't knock it until you have tried it.
3. Roadkill can be fair game as long as you don't eat it. Now let me explain this one. In seventh grade I had a teacher who loved science projects. Mr. Godfrey assigned the class to get 20 animal prints in plaster of paris. Twenty would earn you an "A", fifteen a "B" and so on. Now my mother would not settle for me having anything less than an "A" and when you are trying to come up with twenty animal footprints it is pretty daunting. My brother even got his feet in plaster of paris. (he was only four at the time, and a human is an animal) My mother decided we were going to my maternal grandmothers house to get some other prints as she had ducks, geese and other small farm animals. On the way there we passed a opossum that had obviously been hit but not too bad. What does my mother do? Well, what any good country girl would. We pulled the car off to the side and got that opossums prints in plaster of paris. Same thing when we passed a raccoon. I do want to say, I was the only one in class to make an "A". Thank you mom!!!! BTW, the raccoon was skinned and I tanned his hide and got extra credit for that. I bet Mr. Godfrey still remembers me.
4. Never, and I mean never run away from home and take the new black and tan hound puppies with you!!!!!! It will result in a tail whupping. I was six and decided I was going to run away from home. My parents watched while I packed my suitcase and didn't say a word when I walked out the door with every intention of "leaving home". Miss Brave decided she really wasn't as brave as she felt and decided she would be safe if she had a hunting dog with her on her journey. I went to the pen and let out the newest hounddog additions so that they could run away with me. They were probably about six months old at the time. Anyways, off we go to the main road which was probably about a quarter of a mile away from our house, if that. When my father discovered what I had done, I was promptly picked up with the puppies and I got my tail beat. Not for running away, but for showing the puppies where the road was. Now we know where I ranked on his list.
5. Even at three, you know how to play poker and shoot craps for money and you win!! I think my fathers side of the family thought they were gonna get some easy money and let a small child play poker. What they didn't count on was I was good and I usually ended up being the only sober one at the table, therefore it was easy pickens in my book. My mother said she was also mortified the day she pulled up from work and found me sitting on the hood of my fathers car in pink gingham, no less, shooting craps with my dad and his cousins. When you hang out with the big boys, you play the big boy games.
Now, what's in your fridge......
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