Dear Smiley: The Thursday "aroma therapy" piece by Ernie Gremillion reminded me of an incident that occurred when I attended grad school in the 1970s at the University of Arkansas in Fayetteville.
I rented a house on a quiet residential street in Springdale. My wife begins many meals sautéing the Cajun culinary trinity of onions, celery and bell peppers.
The cool fall weather provided the opportunity to let fresh air flow through open screened doors and windows. The cooking aroma would permeate the neighborhood air.
Brad, the 10-year-old from across the street, had befriended my 10-year-old son and was visiting one Saturday morning while my wife was preparing the day's meal.
After being there for a while, he came into the kitchen and asked, "Miss Hazel, do you always cook the same thing?"
TERRY DANTIN
Thibodaux
Cowboy bikers
Dear Smiley: When we were about 10 years old, Daddy got my older brother and me new bikes for Christmas. We gave our old bikes to friends of ours on a farm south of Kaplan.
First thing the two farm boys did was tie a rope on the bike, then around the saddle horn of the saddle on their horse.
Then it was "Giddy up!" at full speed, with one on the horse and the other on the bike.
The two bikes lasted about one week. But boy, what fun!
JULES LEGER
Kaplan
Trapper retires
Dear Smiley: The recent story about a homemade wooden box to catch lawn-destroying armadillos brought back memories from the early 1970s and my attempt to catch rabbits. Of course, I wanted to relocate my prey to a cast iron pot.
My career with South Central Bell started at a remote central office located in Algiers, near what is now the Tall Timbers subdivision. The building was surrounded by woods and teeming with wildlife.
I built a couple of wooden box traps to catch rabbits. I was successful in catching possums, raccoons, armadillos, and even birds, but obviously rabbits were too smart to fall for a wooden box.
My endeavors ended when, while checking my traps, I heard the distinct sound of a nearby rattlesnake. I slowly backed out of the woods and never returned.
DAVID PALMISANO
Marrero
Sore loser
Dear Smiley: The many stories in your column regarding BB guns reminded me of the days when my older sister, Glenda, and one of our older brothers, Raymond, competed in shooting tin cans with slingshots.
When their scores were tied, they played for hours. When one's score consistently beat the other's score, the winner became the target.
When one got hit with a rock, all hell broke loose, and Mom ended their play of any games for that day!
KAREN POIRRIER
Lutcher
Teacher's lament
Dear Smiley: I told students in my philosophy class that I wanted them to write an essay on euthanasia. One of the students turned in an essay on "Youth in Asia."
SANFORD WOOD
Eunice
Say what?
Dear Smiley: My dear Mimi, who learned to speak flawless Cajun French years before being introduced to English, spoke of "two peas in a pot" when a couple were particularly fit for each other. Hearing this when I was growing up, I didn't realize that the pair of peas would have been much cozier in a pod.
Peculiar behaviors, especially those injected with stupidity, are in my mind called "idiotsyncrasies."
In the 1980s, there was a used car lot on Canal Street in New Orleans. Its huge sign, which nearly stretched the entire width of the lot, proudly proclaimed "Incontinental Motors."
I bet those cars could go, and go ...
GUY HOKANSON
Covington