Notes from Pappy's diary
- Thread starter Pappy
- Start date
Pappy
Living the Dream
- Location
- Florida (transplanted New Yorker.)
Just a brief note. I'm pooped. Got home, in Florida, about 8:30 pm. Beautiful driving weather but the floods in South Carolina had portions of I-95 closed which sent hundreds of tractor trailers n our route. Semis as far as the eye could see and a few backups for a few delays. Needless to say, glad to be home. Later.... Pappy
Pookie
Crazy Cat Lady
- Location
- Western NC
I love this!
rider1046
New Member
- Location
- Farmington MO
Hi Pappy. Love your posts, photos and stories.
SifuPhil
R.I.P. With Us In Spirit Only
- Location
- Pennsylvania, USA
Welcome back, Pappy! Glad you made it safe and sound.
Pappy
Living the Dream
- Location
- Florida (transplanted New Yorker.)
Since I have been taking a blood thinner, my arms look like they've been through the WW2. The slightest bump or small cut and the bruise expands to a huge bruise. A friend suggested I try Shea natural butter on them. The natural comes in a solid form and you use your hand heat to soften and apply. I am using it, only my third day, on my arms, legs and a dry spot on my face. I purchased it on Amazon, of course, for $5 a tub. Just wondering if any of my forum friends have heard of it or used it.
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Shalimar
SF VIP
- Location
- Vancouver Island Canada
Pappy, that looks so painful.
Pappy
Living the Dream
- Location
- Florida (transplanted New Yorker.)
But it really isn't. It just balloons and looks terrible. Actually, most of the bruising is from the band aid I had on. The sticky part caused some of the bruising when I pulled it off. Growing old sucks.
SifuPhil
R.I.P. With Us In Spirit Only
- Location
- Pennsylvania, USA
Pap, I've used Shea butter in the past for small cuts and wounds, and it worked great. Don't know how much it serves to kill bacteria, though.
(When I first wrote this I put down "She Butter" - won't comment on the healing properties of that ...
(When I first wrote this I put down "She Butter" - won't comment on the healing properties of that ...
Pappy
Living the Dream
- Location
- Florida (transplanted New Yorker.)
Ha ha. Yep, have used that too.:love_heart:
Pappy
Living the Dream
- Location
- Florida (transplanted New Yorker.)
Doctors appointments today. Things looked good except we both need to lose some weight as sugar is up a couple points. Flu shots too. Arm a little sore tonight.
Two years ago we asked doctor if we could make out appointments together in stead of making two trips. Wife's was 8:45 and mine at 9:00. We both go in same room together and Doctor does a one on one with each of us. Works out great for us and gets it over with in just a few moments. Nothing to hide, or no secrets as we've been together almost 60 years.
We also like being first patients of the day as everyone is still in a good mood. I love joking around with the nurses and hope to bring a little laughter to their day. A few of my granddaughters are nurses and their days can be over bearing at times.
Two years ago we asked doctor if we could make out appointments together in stead of making two trips. Wife's was 8:45 and mine at 9:00. We both go in same room together and Doctor does a one on one with each of us. Works out great for us and gets it over with in just a few moments. Nothing to hide, or no secrets as we've been together almost 60 years.
We also like being first patients of the day as everyone is still in a good mood. I love joking around with the nurses and hope to bring a little laughter to their day. A few of my granddaughters are nurses and their days can be over bearing at times.
Pappy
Living the Dream
- Location
- Florida (transplanted New Yorker.)
My Terrible Teens. ������
I never really got into much trouble with the law but did my share of not so smart acts. Much of it started when I started driving and showing my independence.
My first driving experience was my step-fathers 41 Oldsmobile with Hydro- matic transmission. It didn't take me long to ruin the transmission as it was not built to take the abuse I gave it. I was pretty much banned from driving this car after this.
My Dad gave me my 2nd car, my 37 Buick Special Coupe. I spent many days cleaning and waxing and painting big white sidewalls on the tires. You started this car by holding the clutch down and step on the gas pedal which engaged the starter. I would turn on the key, step on the gas pedal, without holding the clutch down, and away we would go. I drove the devil out of this oil burner but I had a ball with it. I use to go to a junk yard, on Hale St., and buy transmissions for $15.00 and take them up to Bill Guinns barn to replace them. I replaced at least 3 that I can remember.
From there it was a 41 Ford, 46 Ford and a 49 Ford. By then I was 17, working and pretty much raising hell. One night, Warren Law had his 50 Ford and I had my 49 and for some reason we were in Oxford. We were racing back to Norwich, turning off our headlights and passing each other.
When all of a sudden he disappeared. I still had my lights off and oh,oh, a car with a big red light was behind me. I pulled over and two of the biggest, tallest State Troopers got out of their car. I remember I was scared to death but they were very nice. After giving me hell and a speeding ticket, one of them ask me to start my car. I had dual exhaust with pretty much straight pipes so I started it and let it idle. Trooper told me, "step on it boy." I did and he grinned. I thought well here comes another ticket. He said, " better get some mufflers on that young man." Needless to say, I did quiet it down but not too much.
Another time, several of us boys decided to go out back of the A and P store and do figure 8s in their parking lot. It was quite late and didn't think anyone would see us. We were having a ball when, sure enough, two police cars pulled in, I believe two cars was all our town had, and stopped us dead in our tracks. We were told to follow them down to the station, on East Main St., and so we piled in to our cars and had a convoy all the way to the station. I think they had to scare the crap out of us and were going to play, good cop, bad cop. One cussed us out and said he wanted to have us spend a night in jail. The other cop was more gentle and easy going and stood up for us. Anyway, after about an hour of this, we were told to go home immediately which we did. It sure gave us something to talk and laugh about for several days.
Boys will be boys, I guess.
I never really got into much trouble with the law but did my share of not so smart acts. Much of it started when I started driving and showing my independence.
My first driving experience was my step-fathers 41 Oldsmobile with Hydro- matic transmission. It didn't take me long to ruin the transmission as it was not built to take the abuse I gave it. I was pretty much banned from driving this car after this.
My Dad gave me my 2nd car, my 37 Buick Special Coupe. I spent many days cleaning and waxing and painting big white sidewalls on the tires. You started this car by holding the clutch down and step on the gas pedal which engaged the starter. I would turn on the key, step on the gas pedal, without holding the clutch down, and away we would go. I drove the devil out of this oil burner but I had a ball with it. I use to go to a junk yard, on Hale St., and buy transmissions for $15.00 and take them up to Bill Guinns barn to replace them. I replaced at least 3 that I can remember.
From there it was a 41 Ford, 46 Ford and a 49 Ford. By then I was 17, working and pretty much raising hell. One night, Warren Law had his 50 Ford and I had my 49 and for some reason we were in Oxford. We were racing back to Norwich, turning off our headlights and passing each other.
When all of a sudden he disappeared. I still had my lights off and oh,oh, a car with a big red light was behind me. I pulled over and two of the biggest, tallest State Troopers got out of their car. I remember I was scared to death but they were very nice. After giving me hell and a speeding ticket, one of them ask me to start my car. I had dual exhaust with pretty much straight pipes so I started it and let it idle. Trooper told me, "step on it boy." I did and he grinned. I thought well here comes another ticket. He said, " better get some mufflers on that young man." Needless to say, I did quiet it down but not too much.
Another time, several of us boys decided to go out back of the A and P store and do figure 8s in their parking lot. It was quite late and didn't think anyone would see us. We were having a ball when, sure enough, two police cars pulled in, I believe two cars was all our town had, and stopped us dead in our tracks. We were told to follow them down to the station, on East Main St., and so we piled in to our cars and had a convoy all the way to the station. I think they had to scare the crap out of us and were going to play, good cop, bad cop. One cussed us out and said he wanted to have us spend a night in jail. The other cop was more gentle and easy going and stood up for us. Anyway, after about an hour of this, we were told to go home immediately which we did. It sure gave us something to talk and laugh about for several days.
Boys will be boys, I guess.
Pappy
Living the Dream
- Location
- Florida (transplanted New Yorker.)
Thanks, Nancy. I put most of my young ventures on paper, put in a folder and save them for the kids to enjoy after I've gone off to the happy hunting ground.
SifuPhil
R.I.P. With Us In Spirit Only
- Location
- Pennsylvania, USA
Great stories, Pap!
Thinking back it seems that most of my "naughty times" began when I started driving as well, whether directly through the driving (getting caught doing 110 in a 55 zone with my NY plates by a Georgia cop!) or being caught in flagrante delicto with a young lady in the back seat while parked behind a movie theater.
Thinking back it seems that most of my "naughty times" began when I started driving as well, whether directly through the driving (getting caught doing 110 in a 55 zone with my NY plates by a Georgia cop!) or being caught in flagrante delicto with a young lady in the back seat while parked behind a movie theater.
Pappy
Living the Dream
- Location
- Florida (transplanted New Yorker.)
I guess, for me, it was my Independence Day. Trying to be responsible, but we were still teens and doing some crazy things.
SifuPhil
R.I.P. With Us In Spirit Only
- Location
- Pennsylvania, USA
Very true.
Which is why I often think it might be good to increase the minimum driving age ... to avoid having guys like us on the road.
Pappy
Living the Dream
- Location
- Florida (transplanted New Yorker.)
Found this poem in a Reminisce magazine and it reminds me of my grandfather. Author unknown.
My grandpa is 95.
He says it's great to be alive.
Grandpa can't come out to play,
but he tells stories everyday.
He tells about horses,
he tells about cows.
He tells about things,
called binders and plows.
He tells about grandma,
isnt that nice?
Grandpa's as old as old can be.
He can't hear much and
can hardly see.
But, oh, how I love
to sit on his knee.
And pretend his stories
happened to me.
Rather simple poem but it does hit home for me.
Pappy
My grandpa is 95.
He says it's great to be alive.
Grandpa can't come out to play,
but he tells stories everyday.
He tells about horses,
he tells about cows.
He tells about things,
called binders and plows.
He tells about grandma,
isnt that nice?
Grandpa's as old as old can be.
He can't hear much and
can hardly see.
But, oh, how I love
to sit on his knee.
And pretend his stories
happened to me.
Rather simple poem but it does hit home for me.
Pappy
SifuPhil
R.I.P. With Us In Spirit Only
- Location
- Pennsylvania, USA
Nice!
Pappy
Living the Dream
- Location
- Florida (transplanted New Yorker.)
Well, here's my youngest son, all grown up and a big shot with the NSA. He and his wife have moved, lock, stock and barrel, to Japan's Yokota AFB for two, maybe three years. He has been with NSA every since he was in the Air Force. Jeff and I have always been very close and were known for a lot of foolish bickering back and forth. It goes without saying , that I miss him but thank heavens for FaceTime.
Jeff is the tall guy in the middle and the one looking out the helicopter. This takes him in into Tokoyo, a couple times a week, which is about 25 miles away.
Jeff is the tall guy in the middle and the one looking out the helicopter. This takes him in into Tokoyo, a couple times a week, which is about 25 miles away.
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Pappy
Living the Dream
- Location
- Florida (transplanted New Yorker.)
Just got some pictures from my son and DIL. He's the one stationed in Japan with the NSA and they are visiting Thailand. Right now they are in Bangkok. He sent a couple pictures I hope you enjoy. I told them Annie, to say hi if your paths cross. Just kidding.
Jeff tells me that these taxis are called tuk tuks. Looks mighty crowded to me.
Jeff tells me that these taxis are called tuk tuks. Looks mighty crowded to me.
Attachments
Pappy
Living the Dream
- Location
- Florida (transplanted New Yorker.)
Pappy
Living the Dream
- Location
- Florida (transplanted New Yorker.)
[h=2]The Billy goat and the outhouse.[/h]
One of my blogs of my childhood memories:
When my family moved to the old house, my great grandfather built in 1900, indoor plumbing was just a wishful dream and the outhouse was a welcomed friend. This little house was located about 25 yards between the main house and our old barn. We had a long, steep driveway up to the house from the man road and the outhouse was fairly close to the driveway.
My grandparents lived with us for awhile, while the men were building their new house, and used the upstairs bedrooms. My grandfather always had some type of animal running around and at this time he had three goats. Josephine and Rags were milking goats and Batchlor Button was, well to keep the lady goats happy. Batchlor was the meanest,most miserable SOB and loved it when he could butt you and knock you on your ass. The only person that wasn't scared of him was Grandpa. He would grab him by the horns and drag him back to the barn. This damn goat would actually knock the siding off the barn just to get loose.
Needless to say, I feared this beast and always looked around when I went out to make sure the devil wasn't loose. Several times, as I was getting off the school bus, the monster was standing on the hill just waiting for me to start up the driveway. I could see his eyes turn red and would snort and bellow just waiting for the games to begin.
This is where my safe house, you guessed it, the outhouse came into the picture. If I ran my tail off, I could just make it to the outhouse before the demon reached me. Once in the safe house, thank God it wasn't busy, I would yell my head off until Grandpa came out to put the pain in the ass back in the barn. Grandpa always had a silly smile on his face. I think he thought the whole thing was hilarious.
Anyway, is wasn't much longer before we got indoor plumbing, sold the stupid goats and things got back to normal, well....normal for our crazy house.
As I reminisce about this, I wonder. I bet if I went back there now, and Batchlor Button was there, waiting for me, I would still be scared to death, but there is no safe house to hid in now.
When my family moved to the old house, my great grandfather built in 1900, indoor plumbing was just a wishful dream and the outhouse was a welcomed friend. This little house was located about 25 yards between the main house and our old barn. We had a long, steep driveway up to the house from the man road and the outhouse was fairly close to the driveway.
My grandparents lived with us for awhile, while the men were building their new house, and used the upstairs bedrooms. My grandfather always had some type of animal running around and at this time he had three goats. Josephine and Rags were milking goats and Batchlor Button was, well to keep the lady goats happy. Batchlor was the meanest,most miserable SOB and loved it when he could butt you and knock you on your ass. The only person that wasn't scared of him was Grandpa. He would grab him by the horns and drag him back to the barn. This damn goat would actually knock the siding off the barn just to get loose.
Needless to say, I feared this beast and always looked around when I went out to make sure the devil wasn't loose. Several times, as I was getting off the school bus, the monster was standing on the hill just waiting for me to start up the driveway. I could see his eyes turn red and would snort and bellow just waiting for the games to begin.
This is where my safe house, you guessed it, the outhouse came into the picture. If I ran my tail off, I could just make it to the outhouse before the demon reached me. Once in the safe house, thank God it wasn't busy, I would yell my head off until Grandpa came out to put the pain in the ass back in the barn. Grandpa always had a silly smile on his face. I think he thought the whole thing was hilarious.
Anyway, is wasn't much longer before we got indoor plumbing, sold the stupid goats and things got back to normal, well....normal for our crazy house.
As I reminisce about this, I wonder. I bet if I went back there now, and Batchlor Button was there, waiting for me, I would still be scared to death, but there is no safe house to hid in now.
I always take life with a grain of salt.......,plus a slice of lemon and a shot of tequila.