That was Good

 

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In 1950, the US population was less than 150 million, yet you knew more people
then, and knew them better…
And that was good.

The average annual salary was under $3,000, yet our parents could put some
of it away for a rainy day and still live a decent life…
And that was good.

A loaf of bread cost about 15 cents and it was safe for a five year old to
skate to the store and buy one…And that was good.
1950s 1

Prime-Time meant I Love Lucy, Ozzie and Harriett, and Lassie. So nobody’d
ever heard of ratings or filters…And that was good.
We didn’t have air-conditioning, so the windows stayed up and half a dozen
mothers ran outside when you fell off your bike…
And that was good.

1950s 4

Your teacher was either Miss Matthews or Mr. Adkins, not  Ms. Becky or Mr. Dan.

The only hazardous material you knew about was a patch of grassburrs
around the light pole at the corner…
And that was good.

Most families needed only one job, meaning Mom was home when school
let out…
And that was good.

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You loved to climb into a fresh bed because sheets were dried on the
clothesline…
And that was good.

People generally lived in the same hometown with their relatives, so “child
care” meant grandparents or aunts and uncles…
And that was good.

Maw Maw by Car

TV was in black-and-white, but all outdoors was in glorious color…
And that was certainly good.

Your Dad knew how to adjust everybody’s carburetor, and the Dad next door
knew how to adjust all the TV knobs…
And that was very good.

Your grandma grew snap beans in the back yard and chickens behind the
garage…
And that was definitely good.

First Grade School Picture

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And just when you were about to do something really bad, chances were
you’d run into your Dad’s high school coach, or the nosy old lady from up
the street, or your little sister’s piano teacher, or somebody from church.
ALL of whom knew your parents’ phone number and YOUR first name…And that was good.
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Tale of the Hair of the Dog Sweater

Mother and BuzzyimageMy son John lives to torment my mother.  Buzzy, our American Eskimo Dog sheds incessantly, making up vacuum every day to stay ahead of him.  One day my husband Bud noticed a big paper bag on the mantle stuff full of Buzzy’s combings, hair pulled from his brush, and hair swept from the floor.  Amazed, Bud asked, “What in the world is this bag of dog hair doing up here?”

Mother chimed in, “Oh, that’s Buzzy’s hair I saved up for your sweater.”

This was the first Bud had heard of his dog hair sweater.  He thought maybe Mother had finally come unhinged.  “What dog hair sweater?”

“The one you’re going to get the woman at work to make for you out of Buzzy’s hair.”  Mother thought Bud was losing it.   “John told me to be careful to gather up all the hair I could find every time I came over so that woman you work with can spin it and make it into a sweater for you.  How long do you think it will take to get enough?”

Poor Bud had to break her heart.  “John’s been pulling your leg, again.  There ain’t gonna be no dog hair sweater.”

imageMy son, looking his best.

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Photo of hair I brushed out of Buzzy this morning, pictured next to pint jar.

Fifteen Foolproof Rules for Buying Man Gifts

Rule #1:
When in doubt – buy him a cordless drill. It does not matter if he already has one. I have a friend who owns 17 and he has yet to complain. As a man, you can never have too many cordless drills. No one knows why.Rule #2:
If you cannot afford a cordless drill, buy him anything with the word
ratchet or socket in it. Men love saying those two words. “Hey George, can I borrow your ratchet?” “OK. By the way, are you through with my 3/8-inch socket yet?” Again, no one knows why.

Rule #3:
If you are really, really broke, buy him anything for his car. A 99-cent ice scraper, a small bottle of de-icer or something to hang from his rear view mirror. Men love gifts for their cars. No one knows why.

Rule #4:
Do not buy men socks, ties, or bathrobes. “If God had wanted men to wear bathrobes, he wouldn’t have invented underwear.”

Rule #5:
You can buy men new remote controls to replace the ones they have worn out. If you have a lot of money buy your man a big-screen TV with the little picture in the corner. Watch him go wild as he flips, and flips, and flips.

Rule #6:
Do not buy a man any of those fancy liqueurs. Real men drink whiskey or beer.

Rule #7:
Do not buy any man industrial-sized canisters of after shave or deodorant.

Rule #8:
Buy men label makers. Almost as good as cordless drills. Within a couple of weeks there will be labels absolutely everywhere. “Socks. Shorts. Cups. Saucers. Door. Lock. Sink.” You get the idea. No one knows why.Rule #9:
Never buy a man anything that says “some assembly required” on the box. It will ruin his Special Day and he will always have parts left over.

Rule #10:
Good places to shop for men include Bass Pro Shop, Harbor Freight, Home Depot, Lowes, RV Centers, and Tractor Supply Company.  NAPA Auto Parts and Clearance Centers are also excellent men’s stores. It doesn’t matter if he doesn’t know what it is. “From NAPA Auto,eh? Must be something I need. Hey! Isn’t this a starter for a ’68 Ford Fairlane? Wow! Thanks.”

Rule #11
Men enjoy danger. That’s why they never cook but they will barbecue. Get him a monster grill with a 100-pound propane tank. Tell him the gas line leaks. “Oh the thrill! The challenge! Who wants a hamburger?”  If he already has a grill, definitely get him a turkey fryer.  Be ready to video.

Rule #12:
Tickets to a game are a smart gift. However, he will not appreciate tickets to “A Retrospective of 19th Century Quilts.” Everyone knows why.

Rule #13:
Men love chainsaws. Never, ever, buy a man you love a chainsaw. If you don’t know why – please refer to Rule #8 and what happens when he gets a label maker.

Rule #14:
It’s hard to beat a really good wheelbarrow or an aluminum extension ladder. Never buy a real man a step ladder. It must be an extension ladder. No one knows why.

Rule #15:
Rope. Men love rope. It takes us back to our cowboy origins, or at least The Boy Scouts. Nothing says love like a hundred feet of 3/8″ manilla rope. No one knows why.

Life’s Achievements

Life’s Achievements!
Most of us understand that our self worth and feelings of achievement change as we go through life. While everyone has different aspirations, it appears we all have some common benchmarks for what success is. Really it all depends on your age. Consider the following:

At age 4, success is not peeing your pants
At age 16, success is “gettin’ a little”
At age 25, success is graduation and a wedding

At age 35, success is about career and family

At age 55, success is about graduations and weddings
At age 65, success is “gettin’ a little”
At age 80, success is not peeing your pants!

Who Profits from Child Abuse?

Re logged from Artby Robert Goldstein. We must speak for children

Asking for Help – Please Share and Help Me Find My Sister

Reblog. Help find OMs sister

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Wordless Wednesday

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Evening Chuckle

One day an Irishman, who has been stranded on a desert island for over ten long years, sees an unusual speck on the horizon.

“It’s certainly not a ship,” he thinks to himself. As the speck gets closer and closer, he begins to rule out the possibilities of a small boat, then even a raft.

Suddenly, emerging from the surf comes a drop dead gorgeous blonde woman wearing a wet suit and scuba gear.

She approaches the stunned man and says to him, “Tell me how long has it been since you’ve had a cigarette?”

“Ten years,” replies the Irishman.

With that, she reaches over and unzips a waterproof pocket on her left sleeve and pulls out a pack of fresh cigarettes. He takes one, lights it, takes a long drag and says, “Faith and begorah! Is that good!”

“And how long has it been since you’ve had a sip of good Irish Whiskey?” she asks him.

Trembling, the castaway replies, “Ten years.”

She reaches over, unzips her right sleeve, pulls out a flask and hands it to him. He opens the flask, takes a long swig and says, “Tis absolutely fantastic!”

At this point she starts slowly unzipping the long zipper that runs down the front of her wet suit, looks at the man and asks, “And how long has it been since you’ve played around?”

With tears in his eyes, the man falls to his knees and sobs, “Oh, Sweet Jesus! Don’t tell me you’ve got golf clubs in there too.”

Dear Auntie Linda, September 9 2015

Auntie Linda

Dear Auntie Linda,  My mother is seventy-four and moved in with me and my husband four years ago.  She is in good health, still drives, and is active in her church, though she is slowing down.  We enjoy having her live with us, except for the added burden when my brothers visit.  She treats our home like hers.  When I was growing up, Mother waited on my father and brothers hand and foot.  They worked outside.  Cooking and cleaning were women’s work.  I was responsible for cooking, cleaning, and dishwashing right along with her.

Please understand.  My family is and always has been welcome.  However, since Mama moved in with us, when my brothers to visit, she holds court for her guests, expecting us to lay out the welcome mat and act the gracious host on her behalf, providing huge meals, providing rooms and housekeeping services just like she always did.  I am exhausted by the time company leaves.  Mama won’t hear of anyone taking rooms at a hotel or bringing in a sandwich tray, or takeout, or taking us all out to dinner.  By the time I have shopped, cooked and served meals for several, as well as tidying up behind them, I am exhausted, not to mention the damage to our budget.  I have mentioned this to Mother, but she always reminds me , “They won’t be here but a few days.  We can rest up when they’re gone.  I just want my family around me as long as I am able……..” I would love it if they invited her to their homes for a few days sometime.  She’s often mentioned she’d love to visit.  What should I do?  Worked to Death.

Dear Worked, Your mother knows how to heave the guilt.  If you don’t want to go into this with your mother, certainly your brothers ought to be able to understand that taking care of Mother is a big responsibility.   Let them know you and your budget needs a little break. They can reserve a room and help out with meals.  They don’t have to discuss their reasons with Mother.  If she brings it up with you, don’t waffle. Bring up the subject, “Thanksgiving, let’s get together somewhere else.”  You need a break.  Auntie Linda

Dear Auntie Linda,  My sister and I live a few blocks apart and both have three-year-olds.  We used to have coffee and visit several mornings a week, but the children fight so much now we really can’t enjoy a visit for the screaming, toy-snatching, and hitting.  If one doesn’t start it, the other does.  How in the world can you get children to play without fighting?  Sore Ears

Dear Sore Ears,  My mother had a little trick that worked wonders, for us and then my kids.   Have each of the children sit down with their favorite toy or book several feet apart.  Instruct them not to share or play with each other.  Remind them that they are not allowed to share or play together when they show interest in the other.  After you reinforce this a few times, they will want to play.  Relent, but tell them it’s only for a minute.  They’ll have to go back to their spots at the first sign of fighting.  In a few minutes, they should be anxious to play.  After being apart a few minutes, playing together becomes a privilege. Often, a reminder suffices to avoid a battle.  Hope it works as well for you.  Being separated from a potential sparring partner can help them get along, if you stick with it.  At the very least, they’ll learn to avoid fighting in front of you, which is what you really want anyway, isn’t it?