Did You Hear About the War on Okry?
Hello folks, let’s chat… I’m exceedingly grateful for law enforcement officials. Today’s visit shouldn’t be construed as me picking on them. This disclaimer feels necessary because of a story I did once that I’m not at liberty to discuss again in any way for whatever reason, so help me game wardens everywhere.
You can however, consider this a follow-up of sorts to last week’s column on the dangers of sniffing cow dung to get high. I’m not sure how the stories tie in exactly, but we’ll just get started and see what happens. It’ll be more fun that way.
That said, our story begins with a man named Dwayne who was recently surprised in the privacy of his Georgia home when heavily armed deputies and a K-9 unit descended on his property. They were aiming to arrest him and destroy his flourishing marijuana crop. The alert officers had identified the illegal plants while flying over his property, only the pot they had spotted was actually okra. Perhaps you weren’t even aware that there was a War on Okry, as many of my people refer to it. This is why you read All Things Southern.
The officers ended up apologizing and all is… kinda well.
Poor Dwayne remains concerned that their very public raid has damaged his reputation in the community. I say, shake it off and work this thing, buddy! The clock’s ticking and you’ve got fifteen minutes of fame here to maximize the publicity over that renegade okra. Gumbo Gone Wild has a great ring and making the best of a bad situation is the southern way after all. It’d practically market itself, but I can help you with slogans. How about “This is your brain on okra”? I know. There’s more where that comes from.
My work’s almost done here and I’m still not sure how to tie this in with cow dung sniffing, other than to warn y’all that I’ve experimented with okra and it’s definitely a gateway drug. Fry it and you’ll be moving on to green tomatoes before you can say, “Is that a cop in the cabbage?”
Hugs, Shellie
Sorry, the comment form is closed at this time.
Everybody Puts Their Drawers on the Same Way
Hello folks, let's chat
Refusing to Choose is a Choice
As I type these words to you our country is either in a war
Barbara
I knew it would not be long before the word got out on okra! Now we will have a run on all the fresh okra and you know what that means…..higher prices!!! How will we ever cope with this…sigh I can see the salad bars going down and all of our great southern buffets with the veggies all set out in the pans just enticing everyone!! Now they will be emptied quicker than Jack up the beastalk. I guess some might call it progress but I see it as a way of southern life hijacked!
Shellie Rushing Tomlinson
Oh, no! I haven’t even realized this would lead to higher prices! (She goes off wringing her hands…)
Olivia
Not sure how this ties in with the cow poop sniffing and raid on the okra patch…but we Southern gals find ways to share a story.
My mom, bless she heart, lived a good, long, church going life. Living in the country until right before her death, she wasn’t a worldly woman. Smoking, drinking and such might as well have been happening on the moon. Her idea of a wild party was the church annual homecoming each May.
But yea, here it comes…….but…….one day while taking her on a ride from her home in Northwest Louisiana we passed over the border into Texas. What an exciting day for her. We drove slowly thru a very old cemetery and talked about the past as you do in such a place. All of a sudden, she almost jumped out of the car, yelling, “Did you see that! MARIJUANA!” Since I had never heard her mention any kind of drug, I yelled back, “What did you say, Mama?!” My husband threw the brakes on and almost hit a headstone.
She started pointing back over her shoulder, and my husband threw the car in reverse………and of course, there was no drugs growing in the graveyard. This was back when drugs weren’t even on the news in Louisiana But to this day we have no idea how mama knew what marijuana would look like. I think the horror of the whole thing was too much for me…….I couldn’t bring myself to ask her where she had even heard the word and could identify the plant. But there she was at homecoming each year passing out fried chicken, a woman of mystery.
Just a note….please know I would put my hand on a bible and swear my mother never touched any drug….but she did read a lot.
Shellie Rushing Tomlinson
LOL! Interesting…your mama had her secrets. 🙂 I enjoyed your visit!
The Queen
Watch that squash carefully too…you never know what lurks under those huge leave….
Shellie Rushing Tomlinson
This is true….and you know how that goes. If you do abuse squash, chances are your kids will grow up to abuse squash…
Georgetta
When our kids were small, I could not get them to eat squash. So, as all mothers tend to do, I decided to make them like it anyway. I would slice it long ways and it would look just like a fish. Then I would fry it and told them it was called squash fish. They are both in their 40’s now and still love squash fish. Have a blessed day.
Shellie
Squash fish, oh the ingenuity of a mama! :))) I love this story! Thanks for sharing. 🙂