If you are blessed to have Magnolia State kin, well you have hit the jackpot! My grandma had kin all over the place. Wait, that’s an understatement. Grandma had a rolling rolodex of kin dating from the 1930s forward filled with notes, recipes, names, deaths, new births and a little gossip as well, which was all about her people. I said rolodex, but really the details were stuffed in grandma’s mind. And each week, grandma called mama’s house to update the kin folk news, and when the big black telephone went “ding ding-a-ling,” well, I was conveniently within ear shot, just like any five-year-old should be. One such call, concerned my Aunt Edna (grandma’s sister). It seems Aunt Edna and Uncle Jim had installed a foyer in their new house. I mean Uncle Jim was Meridian Mayor and all, but a foyer? Grandma was perplexed, because well, she didn’t know exactly what a foyer was all about, neither did mama and aunt Elaine. It seemed very expensive, like maybe a rocket-to-the-moon. And all of the foyer business alerted my mother and her sister, Elaine. Yes, their telephone calls increased like crazy. “Did you say foyer?” was asked over and over. “Hmm, sounds expensive.” As mentioned, I never missed a word. My best perch was in the front porch swing. I was a good swinger, still am. But back to the phone calls during that summer. Well now if there was one firm rule at my house, it was that my daddy’s homemade biscuits be ready and on the dinner table by 11 a.m. sharp. That’s when daddy arrived for an early lunch (we called it dinner), but then, everything was early for daddy; Early to rise, early breakfast, early to work, early for lunch, well you get it. Other than that, Daddy watched Gunsmoke on the TV and in the fall, SEC football. Did I mention he wasn’t too much of a talker, but he did listen. So, on most days when daddy passed by the front porch and I said, “Hi Daddy,” he just grunted, but for me, he grunted with a twinkle in his eye. When he entered the kitchen that morning, oh my goodness, there were no biscuits on the table. He jerked his head around with terror in his eyes. “Where’s my biscuit’s?” he squawked. Mama ran into the kitchen and opened the oven door and there they sat, all nice a crispy just like he likes and whew, the crisis was over. But what daddy didn’t know was the many “what’s a foyer?” calls had caused the delay. Finally, after dinner and the biscuit-eater had returned to work, the decision was made. Yes-sir–ee, this Sunday afternoon, Grandma, mama, Aunt Elaine and I would make a kinfolk time visit to Aunt Edna’s and Uncle Jim’s new house. This foyer business was be laid to rest. Come Sunday all was set. Mama planned an excellent Sunday dinner, complete with those biscuits plus she baked a lovely roast with gravy, leaving it all in the stove on slow cook and it was ready to eat directly after church service. Now it took some planning to satisfy the biscuit-eater, get us all to church service on time, and I’m sure the preacher had “fire and brimstone preaching.” That is, if anyone had been paying attention. All we could think about was FOYER. We left church, flew home and mama slapped dinner on our plates, and after washing the plates, we were off. Daddy was fine in his recliner. It was the Alabama vs Ole Miss game. We arrived to Aunt Edna’s out of breath, but barreled out of the car anyway. As we ran to Aunt Edna’s front door. I noticed grandma and mama patting their hairdos back in place. I mean Sunday afternoon visiting time is when one looks their best. Aunt Edna met us at the front door and the tour commenced. She and Uncle Jim were proud of their new homestead. Room by room mama, grandma and Aunt Elaine jerked their heads from side to side. And finally, Aunt Edna said proudly, “And this is our foyer. Jim and I thought a foyer would be a nice touch.” We gave her a blank look. Then Aunt Elaine said, “Oh, a foyer is really a long hall?” Aunt Edna beamed, then she had a troubled look cross her face when she said, “I just wonder when the Electrolux will arrive?” On the way home, finally Grandma broke the silence. “What on earth is an Electrolux?” Here we go again.
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