Me & My Cousin Ronnie: (How We Attained Maturity Without Killing Each Other)

By Lauretta Mason-Evans

Some of what is contained between the covers of this book is fiction, but a good deal of it is fact. It is up to you, the reader, to decide which is what. And keep in mind the old saying, Truth is stranger than fiction, is often true. So, if you like to reminisce and have a good laugh while doing so, ME & MY COUSIN RONNIE is a must read.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Jan 20, 2011
• ISBN: 9781450284110

Lauretta Mason-Evans

I was raised on a somewhat isolated farm. Social contact was limited to church and family; entertainment consisted of one radio which only played Dad’s programs. Therefore, I relied on my imagination to relieve boredom. Being a voracious reader, I rewrote every book I read as I read it. When we saw a rare movie, I dreamed on it for months afterward and revised the script in my mind over and over. Such being the case, my love of writing began at a very early age. My writing career actually began in highschool and has continued on to the present day. I’ve written advertisements for Real Estate and radio, political publications, both local and national, newspaper articles, etc. I’ve had some success with two publications entitled, PMS and BOB. These are facetious renditions of faux magazines whose initials stand for: PRIME MACHO STUDS, and BEAUTIFUL OLD BROADS. I feel I can use that term without being accused of discrimination because I’m one myself. They are illustrated, for I am also a graphic artist and do all my own illustrations. My husband and I moved from midwestern Ohio in the late 90’s to Florida. I am now a widow and have remained here with those of my family who also live in Florida. My husband and I raised six children. I now have 11 grandchildren and five great-grandchildren.

Book preview

DEDICATION

I’d like to dedicate this book to MY COUSIN RONNIE, without whom it would have been impossible. After all, he’s the main character, providing most of the subject matter; some true, some invented. Although our relationship through our formative years and beyond can only be described as an epic battle, MY COUSIN RONNIE is one of my dearest friends. And in retrospect, had it not been for Ronnie Martin, I think my LBM, (life before marriage) would have been dull indeed.

THANK YOU, RONNIE. I LOVE YOU BETTER THAN CHOCOLATE…ALMOST.

Contents

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

EPILOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

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I don’t know why this rivalry, enmity, struggle for power, or whatever, began between my Cousin Ronnie and myself, but I do know when; from the time we began walking and talking. Perhaps that’s an exaggeration, but I can’t ever remember when Ronnie and I weren’t in competition for something or other.

In all honesty I have to admit I was a pest in our formative years and beyond. You see, after seven girls my father desperately wanted another boy. Needless to say he was sorely disappointed when mom presented him with his eighth daughter …me. As the years rolled by his disappointment did not abate.

To say I was a difficult child is putting it mildly. Not only was dad disappointed I wasn’t a boy, so was I. Therefore, I set out to prove I was as good, or better, than any boy of our acquaintance which consisted mainly of Cousin Ronnie and his cohorts.

I guess it was only natural for Ronnie to fight back. I didn’t mind that, but I did mind the fact that after each confrontation between Cousin Ronnie and myself I got punished. Ronnie never got punished for anything. He sort of looked like an angel when we were growing up and people, especially his mother, thought he was. Her motto was: NEVER SPANK AN ANGEL.

Actually, the only thing angelic about Ronnie was his face which I had the pleasure of smashing to a bloody pulp every time I found myself in the woodshed after one of our escapades, but only in my imagination. I’d put him through the tortures of hell while I was trying to find a comfortable resting place for my stinging back side.

Of course, Ronnie never gave me a second thought after I was whisked out of sight and confined to my room. I discovered early on that boys are like that. They never feel they’re accountable for their actions; at least Cousin Ronnie wasn’t. I think that was because no one ever told him he should be. His mom’s attitude was: what could you expect from an angel anyhow?

Needless to say, Cousin Ronnie, the wingless wonder, as I thought of him, was above reproach. On the other hand, reproach was my way of life.

When I was born dad worked in the coal mines. Ah, yes, I was a coal miner’s daughter. He was also a barber and a gifted carpenter. You’d think with those abilities he would have had no trouble making a living. Well, he didn’t until the