YOUR'RE PRETTY AS A SPECKLED PUP
YOU’RE PRETTY AS A SPECKLED PUP It was Sunday morning, same as any other Sunday morning Mama was gearing all movement toward church. All the chores that go on any morning on a Southern farm were done. A pig sized breakfast was finished, dishes washed and back in the cupboard tidy as could be; because you never knew who might come home with you for Sunday dinner. The church was not yet a hundred years old but it was filled to the brim with family and a few oddities every Sunday. One of those... Sign in to see full entry.