I spent this week in Tennessee with my kids, my brother and his daughter at my grandmother’s house. There are so many stories that I almost couldn’t decide which one to tell you first but thought the one where I was near death would be good so here goes….

Phone ringing….my aunt Brenda-Honey has called to inform us that Food Rite in Newbern has cooking oil (not Wesson but Buy Rite brand) for a dollar and today is the last day. Does my grandmother need any she ask? Asking my grandmother if she needs something that is on sale is like asking a group at an AA meeting if anyone needs a new liver. The answer will always be a resounding YES!! Grandmother hangs up phone and voices her concern that Brenda Honey will only be able to get six ..three she will purchase and three her husband will purchase. How will she carry all these and will she give three to her are the questions my grandmother is pondering out loud. While she ponders she stares at me with those big blue eyes and I immediately suggest that my brother and I drive over there and then we can get six just for her…..Yippee!!!! She can store them alongside the 500 trash bags and thousands of canned goods. This sounds like a great plan to her. So off we go.

We get to the store and there are frantic Southern belles everywhere trying to get their hands on that oil. The end cap was empty and we were led to a box of oil in the back of the store. The lady that scurried us back there acted like we were making a drug deal and quickly disappeared. We boxed up our six bottles and made our escape. Now we are at the checkout and paying separately for our oil as they are very strict about their three per customer rule. We turned to look outside as we were waiting and realized that for six in the evening it was completely dark outside. Not a good sign in the South. As I walked over to look out the window there is the longest and darkest cloud I have ever seen. I send Tony and Taylor to the car and wonder if my grandmother will kill us if we don’t come home with the oil and decide our chances are better with the tornado. As I get into the car the rain is pelting me and the cloud had developed a tail. Now I am no Al Roker but I do know enough to realize that if a storm cloud starts to form appendages we are in deep doo–doo. Tony, who watches way too much weather channel, describes how we can tell if the possible funnel cloud is moving toward us or away. I am more worried at this point about hail damaging my grandmother’s car than I am about diving in a ditch to escape a twister. I figure we can put the cooking oil in first , then Taylor and leave Tony for the top of the pile. Luckily, as fast as it appears it goes back up in the clouds and we breathe a sigh of relief. This won’t be how it ends. We will not die for bargain brand cooking oil and my grandmother will be able to deep fry many more pieces of meat in the future. Life is good.