Ann
Ipock
Humorist,
author, speaker
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Georgetown
Times
Santa Claus Publishing to the rescue!
By Ann Ipock Dec. 6. 2006
With my third book now published, I’ve recently met up with some wonderful Stilley relatives that I haven’t seen in years. One of those is Kim. In fact, she just placed a large Christmas book order (for me to autograph) that has me scratching my head. I have to tell you some background before I get on with my story. It’s a Southern thing—okay, not necessarily just Southern, more of a Southern female thing.
Many of my kinfolk on my mother’s side are from eastern N.C., including Kim, in an area near New Bern. As a child, some of my favorite memories were at Grandma Julia’s and Papa’s house. In particular, every Easter, everyone brought a covered dish—us “far away” folks from Jacksonville (actually only 35 miles), and my aunts and uncles who lived near Grandma. Joyce had the best meat loaf. Mama had the best potato salad. Grandma’s biscuits would melt in your mouth. Emmie Lou’s baked navy beans were superb. And Betty Rae’s sweet potato pie was perfect. Lovie and Maggie were also terrific cooks. Afterwards, we’d have an egg hunt with the grand prize being fifty cents. (Times have changed!) And Christmas meant more of the same delicious food, gift exchanges and reminiscing and laughter.
I loved going out there and hanging out with my two big sisters and my two wonderful aunts. They were so cool and I’d do anything to be in their presence. Sometimes they’d even let me play Parcheesi with them. But I never knew which way the decision would go: “Will Ann be included this time or not?” Once, when Betty Rae (with a new driver’s license) drove off with all the girls in Papa’s car but me, I sat on the glider seat on Grandma’s porch and cried and cried—heck, I howled! I made sure they saw this too. They felt so bad, they turned around and came back to get me. That was the day
Betty Rae drove into a ditch and we got stuck in the mud. Four of us girls got out and pushed. Betty Rae sat at the wheel until the tires lifted up and we were free. We giggled the whole way home. That was another thing about my relatives. They were the laughingest folks I ever knew. I once introduced my Uncle Bill as Aunt Bill and I think he laughed a solid ten minutes. To make matters worse, I offered him a cup of coffee, then asked, “Would you prefer a cup or a saucer?” (I meant “a cup or a mug?”) He has never let me forget it.
But during those trips one of my favorite things was playing with the babies. Any of my cousins were game. I would grab them from their mama’s, hold them, feed them, change them, snuggle with them and rock them. In particular, I remember Kim. She was an adorable blonde with rosy cheeks and the happiest smile. I can still see the small rocker-recliner at Grandma’s in the dining room, nudged into a corner near the TV and a huge floor heater, where I sat for hours holding this delightful baby. I also loved doing this because I could eavesdrop on the adult’s conversation, something that was frowned upon, and no one complained. I still love babies to this day and am so fortunate to have one in my life now; baby Carly Ann, our 15 month old granddaughter, and her sister Madison, age five.
Well, today I got an email from Kim, who wanted to order some books for Christmas gifts. The order has now changed three times and she and I are both laughing. Here’s why. I’d already given my aunts and uncles there a copy of my third book—but some don’t have the second book. A couple of folks have the first book, others don’t, but want to—and it’s of print. In one case, one person wanted to surprise someone who is
already being surprised by someone else. You got it? Me neither. Plus, Kim and I must have the same forgetful gene. She’s emailed me three times in the last five hours and still hasn’t sent me her address. An honest mistake, but very clearly, a problem if I am going to mail these books out. And the sad part is, Kim is having to now ask folks (who will ask other folks) what books they do/don’t have; so the surprise may no longer even be a surprise.
But you know me: I’m a solutions person. The way I see it, there’s only one thing to do: Get that fourth book published and in a hurry! Is there such a thing as Santa Claus Publishing?