Flashback Friday #14

The World's Pickiest Eater

The Thanksgiving holiday has just passed. At our gatherings we would have the following:
turkey

ham

stuffing

mashed potatoes & gravy

pasta salad

deviled eggs

scalloped corn

beets

green bean casserole

cranberry sauce

pumpkin pie

This is what I would eat:

turkey, ham, mashed potatoes w/ butter, and pumpkin pie.

When Mom was a little girl, her parents served a can of spinach that had become rancid. She complained and was severely punished & made to eat it. She then became very sick. She then vowed that she would never make her kids eat anything that they didn't want to.

Because of this, I never tried anything that looked "yucky" or smelled weird. My staple food group growing up was the peanut butter food group. I ate peanut butter all the time. I have never outgrown my love of peanut butter.

Since I have grown older & married, my menu has expanded. When I got married, my wife gave me two choices for supper: take it or leave it. There are still things I don't like, and my wife knows it, but I do like things that my Mom has trouble beliving that I will now eat, because I didn't when I was a kid.

The Blur

There has been an eerie sighting in the Castle Nottaguy-Imadad landholdings:

The whitish blur seen in this picture has been spotted several times by multiple people. I was fortunate enough to catch it on my camera phone one day. What is it you ask? A ghost? An alien? A being from another dimension?

Nope. It's Sparky the wonder dragon making his security patrol around the grounds. He can really fly around that yard. I've checked him several times for wings, but I haven't found them yet

Rivaly week in college football

There are lots of great rivalries in college football. Where you are reading this from has their "big game" every year. Around these parts it's Ohio State- Michigan. (Notice the placement of the teams? That should clue you in on my loyalty.)

While checking a Steve & Barry's store closing sale, I showed my grandson, "the Boy", A Michigan shirt. This was his reaction:

He has his father's, "The Woodsman", genes. His mother "The Ogre" was a U of M fan growing up., but I think she may be coming around. Let's hope "the player to be named later" has those OSU fan genes.

Here is one of my favorite "Zesty" pics:

His momma is a big OSU fan. We will keep praying for his daddy.

Here are a few more pics for today's game:

U of M is finishing the worst seasons it has ever had. Will that take any of the luster off an OSU victory? Are you kidding me? Any victory over them is sweet.

Flashback Friday #13

I'm a big boy now.

When I was going to elementary school, our neighbor watched us in the mornings after Mom & Dad left for work. She watched me & my brother, the three kids next door, and four more kids about a mile down the road. We all had a great time playing together in the mornings because our ages were so close. Nine kids in the morning was a sure way to make sure you were wide awake and ready to face the morning.

Since we all rode the bus to get to school, and the sitter's house was set back from the road on a small hill, one of us got to stand outside and watch for the bus. It was considered a great privilege. How did one get the privilege, you ask? Whoever did the sitter's dishes from the previous night, got to watch for the bus the next day. There were 5 boys, and 4 girls in the group, and the girls did most of the dishes, therefore got to watch for the bus more often. Then the family next door moved, and reduced the number of girls by half. Now there were 2 girls, and 4 boys.

In the school system where I grew up, elementary school was grades K-6, Jr. High was 7 & 8, and High School was 9-12. When I went into 3rd grade, my brother went into 7th. Since the Jr. High & the High School rode the same bus, his bus left earlier than mine. It would pick up all the 7-12 kids, drop them off, and begin the elementary route. Since the bus arrived moments after Mom & Dad left, my brother was allowed to stay at home to catch the bus. Now there were 3 boys and a girl at the babysitting neighbor.

Then tragedy struck. One day I went over to the neighbor's to wait for the bus, and there were no other kids there. "Where are the others?" I asked. "They moved away." I was told. It was only me, with last nights dishes waiting for me. I wanted no part of being the only child there (her kids had grown up and moved away years before). So I made up my mind. I didn't need a babysitter. I picked up my stuff while the sitter was in the bathroom and marched right back home. I kept a sharp eye out for the bus, and stood out by the road in plenty of time for the driver to see that I was at a different house. I told the driver that I would be getting on at my house from now on. (Pretentious wasn't I?)

When Mom & Dad got home, the sitter called and informed them that I went back home this morning. She watched as the bus came, and I got on. My parents asked why I did this. "I didn't want to be there by myself." "But your by yourself here." they reasoned. "Yes," I replied, "But this is my house, and I'm not afraid." So they let me (On a trial basis, I'm sure) stay home and catch the bus by myself. I never missed the bus, and I never had another babysitter. (Kids, don't try this at home, this is a far different world than what I grew up in.)

November Rose Revisited

Those who pay attentoion to the rambling here have read about our November rose.

This is what it looked like yesterday afternoon:

We had a thunder snowstorm yesterday. It thundered and the snow came down really fast and really hard. It dropped about 1 1/2 inches in just a short period of time. Sparky didn't know what to think of it.

Out of the mouth of babes

While taking prayer requests yesterday in my Sunday school class, one of my 3rd graders had this request:
" Please pray for those people who are just plain wierd."
I think God knows exactly who she was refering to.

Been tagged

I was tagged for this meme from Down In My Little Valley. I am to list 15 things that I'm not afraid to admit. Here goes:

1) I can't swim.

2) I don't feel that I am very photogenic.

3) I'll watch kid's videos even if there are no kids around.

4) That's because I love Veggie Tales.

5) I still have my Grandmother's house key. (She's been gone for 30+ years. It's a skeleton key.)

6) I've worked at the same factory for 20 years.

7) I've read the Bible clear through for 14 years straight. (It will be 15 shortly).

8) I am a pack rat.

9) My feet are almost as wide as long. (9 1/2 EEE)

10) I've gone to the same church for over 25 years.

11) I snore.

12) I love peanut butter & jelly sandwiches.

13) I like to get out the toys and play with the grandkids.

14) I enjoy dressing up and "being silly" for kid's musical, revivals or Sunday school.

15) I am madly in love with my wife.

I'm not much for tagging people, so if you read this, and have lost your bloggy grove, and your creativity has tanked, consider yourself tagged. List your 15, and if you need a scapegoat, say I tagged you. I have broad shoulder & can handle it.

Flashback Friday #12

Tonsils

In the summer between 3rd & 4th grade I got the most awful sore throat. We didn't run to the doctor at a drop of a hat, so I must have convinced Mom that I was dying. She took me in, and I got the prognosis that I didn't want to hear. Then he gave me a shot. I hate needles.

The plans were made for me to go to the hospital and have my tonsils removed. On all of the TV shows that I watched, you got lots of ice cream, and were uncomfortable for the rest of the program. Nobody prepared me for what it was really like.

I was put in a less than private room in the children's ward. There were four beds, and you had to share the TV with the tyke beside you. The girl who was beside me was a big "Sesame Street" fan. I now love and appreciate everything that Jim Henson did, but at the time, I was too old for "kiddie programs", and would have much rather have watched game shows. But since she was a girl, she got the remote. And like most little girls, she knew not the word "silence".

And about that ice cream. I had Sister Mary Clarence flavor. Nun. None. Nada. Zilch. No ice cream whatsoever. Ice cream coats the throat, heaven forbid my throat got coated. I did have a "Push-Up" the night before the surgery, but that's sherbet, and doesn't count.

The day of the surgery, they prepped me, and wheeled me back. I remember them putting the mask over my face, and asking me to count backwards from 20. I think I got to 18. When I woke up from surgery, the first thing I remember was someone handing me a cup of liquid, and telling me to "Drink this". I should have remembered that every time Alice from "Alice in Wonderland" drank something labeled "Drink this", something bad happened. I drank it, and immediately threw up. I hate throwing up as much as needles.

Well they got me back to my semi-private less room and put an ice pack on my throat. It felt like Freddy Krueger had scratched the tickle in my throat. We were encouraged to let ice chips melt in our mouths, and swallow the cold liquid to ease our throats (everyone in the room was having their tonsils out). Every time I swallowed, it felt like I was swallowing a brick. We got 7 Up and jello to eat (Woo woo, I got jello all the time at home, I wanted ice cream). At least "chatty Cathy" beside me was quiet.

When I was released, I was to eat jello and 7Up for about a week, or until I felt like eating solid foods again. I got so sick of jello, I could scream (but I couldn't because it hurt too much). The first "solid" food that I ate was some mashed potatoes out of a TV dinner (yum).

During the time that I was down recovering, my brother was somewhat civil. Perhaps it was because Mom was home (she took a week of vacation). I don't think he beat me up once during my recovery. I think he felt sorry to see me in pain that he didn't inflict. I didn't have another surgery for 35 years (Thank you BWC).

Lousy Timing?

Tonight while Lady Nottaguy-TYG was making supper, she asked me if I would like baked or mashed potatoes. I told her mashed. When I finished the page that I was reading online, I walked into the kitchen to see if she wanted any help peeling potatoes. She looked at me and said "This is the last potato." At least I asked.

You've got to be kidding

Those of you who have read my blog for a while know that I love sock monkeys. I had a dozen of them as a child, and I have one upstairs with "Papa's cool toys". I even got a sock monkey keychain for my birthday (Thanks H Family). While cruising Ebay yesterday, I found this:

It's an Obama sock monkey. There were 11 bids, and it sold for over $89. There are more of them listed, with starting bids over $35. I like sock monkeys, but my wealth is not going to be re-distributed for one of these any time soon.

Flashback Friday #11

The Shotgun

Those who have been following my true-life adventure I so fondly call Flashback Friday know that toy guns were a staple toy around our house. Cap guns. Dart guns. Squirt guns. Disc shooting guns. But one day, a real gun came on the scene.

My Uncle Felix came by one day and asked Mom & Dad if they thought that we boys were mature enough to have a real gun. I was 10, and my brother, Sir Gattabout, was 14. He had a shotgun, and since he no longer went hunting, it was worthless to him. We lived in the country, so we were the first of his nephews that he would offer it to.

My parents agreed, so Uncle Felix took my brother to the back yard to show him how to load & properly handle a firearm. I was not taken back, because "Gattabout can show him ". BOOM, BOOM, went the shotgun. Cans went flying. It was so totally cool.

Many days later, After school, Sir Gattabout was out back practicing his marksmanship. I went out back after I heard the first shot to watch. "Do you want to set some cans up for me?" he asked. "Sure." I replied. I set up six cans for him to shoot. After I got behind him, he proceeded to pick the cans off one by one. When there was only one can left, he asked me"Do you want to shoot the last one?" Oh boy did I ever.

He loaded the shotgun, and helped me to bring it up. (It was pretty heavy) He showed me how to use the target sights. Finally he reminded me how to hold the shotgun. " You've got to keep the shotgun about this far away from you shoulder (while holding his finger & thumb about three inches apart). I did everything he told me, sighted my target, and squeezed the trigger.

BOOOOOOOOM. Everything happened so fast. Anyone who has ever shot a shotgun before knows what happened. For you who never have, here is what happened.

If you are going to shoot a shotgun, you must (I repeat MUST) hold the the stock firmly against you shoulder. A shotgun will kick. This was a 10 gauge, so the kick was pretty good even if you held it properly. This one kicked me like I had walked up behind a mule and smacked it in the rear with a two by four. When I squeezed the trigger, it slammed back into my shoulder with such force that it hurled me against an old truck that we had setting in the yard. (all rednecks had old trucks in their yard, didn't they?). I collapsed to the ground, and rolled there in agony.

"HA HA HA HA HA, That was the funniest thing I ever saw in my life!" my brother roared. When he stopped laughing, he said "If you tell, the pain you are feeling now will feel like NOTHING." I believed him, because he made it a point to devise new and improved torture methods daily. I had been one the wrong end of several of them, so I kept my mouth shut, and never touched the shotgun again. It was stolen from our house a few years later.

Parents, If you live in an area that supports shooting, take the time to show each child individually how to properly use the firearm. Don't expect your oldest to pass along his wisdom.

A Wild Ride

The results of the election remind me of when I rode "The Blue Streak" at Cedar Point with the safety features disabled. We're in for a wild ride.

November Rose

Saturday, I was doing some yard work and I spotted this:

We have three rose bushes in our yard, and they all bloom in late spring. With the indian summer weather that we have been having, I think this bush was fooled into thinking that it is spring again.