Crinum Lily
This beautiful Southern heirloom lily was a gift to my mother a number of years back from her oldest niece, Ray Nell. Mother had remarked on an occasion that it had never bloomed. My cousin died suddenly last February and of course Mother went to her final resting place last fall. This week the lily started blooming. It's absolutely beautiful. She had planted it up by our road on the edge of turn-in to the driveway. I suppose the real reason it decided to bloom this year was because of all our rains over the past six months. The spot she chose is too far away from the nearest water spigot to be able to water it during dry times. It's a very common plant in the South and thrives here because of the heat and the amount of humidity. I would love to take it back to Arizona with me when I return but it belongs here.
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SOUTHERN NAMES
Don't you just love those two-word, languid names that once were so prevalent in the South? My cousin Ray Nell had one of those names. She was the oldest of four girls and I suppose Aunt Lillian and Uncle Huey were dreaming of a boy as their first child and back in those days everyone took pot luck with what might be coming on that birth day. And for 82 years she was known as Ray Nell, not Ray, not Nell or Nellie, or some nickname.
I had another cousin whose real name, swear to God, was Bob Wayne. Well, that's not so unusual you might say. Come on, HER name was Bob Wayne. She was called Bob Wayne but as time went on and she moved to the city she became known as Bobbie. Of course, she just moved further into the South to Louisiana so the geographic location probably didn't have anything to do with the name evolution.
I went to school with two sisters who were both named Barbara. I guess that was their mother's favorite name. They were close in age and were distinguished by their middle names and they were called Barbara Ann and Barbara Allen (yes, her middle name was spelled A-l-l-e-n). In later years she was just called Sister. Of course back in those days there were no Jennifers, Stephanies, Tiffanies, Kathys, Brendas, Lindas, Melindas, Belindas.
Then there's the names for the boys. I have a cousin whose name is Jimmie Ray (not Jimmy) and what do we call him? Jimmie Ray, of course. What else? Then we've all heard of Billy Bob, Johnny Mack, My mother's youngest brother's name is Joe Buck. The story is my grandmother's neighbor named him. I guess after seven kids she just couldn't come up with another name, or maybe because she had five girls she just didn't know any middle names for boys.
My neighbor's name is Howard Lee. If anyone ever called him Howard, we wouldn't know who they were talking about. My dad's name was Howell Bennie. Howell is sort of a neat name, unusual, but Bennie? Ever known anyone named Bennie? Anyone who ever called him by his first name usually called him Hal because -- well, just because. He spent most of his life with a various nicknames, Shorty and Bucky being the most common.
Nicknames are a whole 'nother story. We won't even go there. But what's your favorite memory of names and the person they belonged to? Isn't it weird how our name eventually becomes part of the fabric of our lives? Can you even imagine calling your best friend Christina something like Kate or Joyce? What if your son changed his name from Jeff to Wilson? Huh? It just doesn't work, does it?
