She gives me crap, then snaps.

We rode on the road en route to Liberty county. Passing through Dayton, Texas, on the way to a small town called Raywood. I delighted as the number of business signs dwindled, and half of the ones that appeared were for ma and pa shops. Not the progeny of capitalist dogma.

: )

We, as in my mother, Dee Bee, brother, Amadeus Woods, sister, Comanche de Brie and the dog, O Cachorro de Mutt, were in route to see dearest grandma, De Josephine LeBeux.

We turned down the familiar gravel road outlying her huge front yard. It seems the trees, and even the house, has gotten smaller every time I come.

As we exit the vehicle I tell Comanche:

"Snap a picture for Shameless."

She gives me crap, then snaps.

Inside the house LeBeux waits, and is genuinely ecstatic to see her family. Hugs and Kisses. She makes fun of De Mutt for his tacky Christmas sweater, and he does nothing in response.

He's a dog. He don't speak English too good.

I sit Shamelessly eating on the couch. Only the dirtiest of rice and the cheesiest of macaroni. I pass out. I wake up with a gift in my lap, and it is quite joyous to unravel a brilliantly embroidered dress shirt.

"I had to fight the Mexicans off down at the store to get it," said LeBeux.

O grandma. You're too old for me to hold racist remarks against you.

There are towering pecan trees around the house, and it's almost tradition for LeBeux to ask us to pick pecans to make candy and pie. I don't like eating either. But I do like walking.

Amadeus, Comanche and I stroll through the front yard as De Mutt takes a shit.

He's a dog. He doesn't use a toilet too good.

We spy three horses off yonder, and we wonder if it's a sign.

"Are those horses for us?" says the Shameless One.

De Mutt almost gets hit by a car. We return from yonder.

We continue to pick pecans and it was a good thing. Siblings not bickering, just kinda doing the bloodline thing. Ya know? Comanche throws a pecan. I pull my blade out.

"You'll cut your hand with that!"

"No. I'll cut you!" says I.

Our uncle James de Dasetta appears with other guests, and the occasion becomes more felicitous. Hugs. Photos. Smiles. I long to wander Shamelessly through the field beyond. Perhaps fly one of the single propeller planes at the field a mile away. But our time has run out.

With this. We say goodbye. As we head home more business signs appears.