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Daddy’s rules
Ronda Rich
There were violations of certain rules that were guaranteed to aggravate Ralph Satterfield. Ralph was my daddy and I aggravated more him than a few times. He was, the people of our mountains say, ‘set in his ways.’ When they don’t use that phrase, they say, “quare.’ I have often laughed about those odd mountain people thinking their neighbors and kinfolk were odd as though they weren’t. For instance, this child of the mountains, who nearly starved during the Hoover Days of the Depression, always bought two boxes of ‘sody crackers’ at a time, two loaves of bread – one frequently went into the freezer, not something I would recommend to people who enjoy fresh tasting bread – two five-pound bags of flour or anything Mama asked him to “stop by on his way home and pick up.” Once a week, he came in toting a gallon of sweet milk and one of buttermilk.