How about memories of your parents?

My dad used to sing Oh my Darlin' Clementine while he shaved. Then he'd stop, look in the mirror, and say, "Oh you good looking son of a bitch, don't you EVA die!"

Speaking of singing Pops, mine enjoyed being the alarm clock at church camp. He'd hit the shower early, then awaken the rest of us by his high volume belting out of Victory in Jesus song as he kicked the metal trash can lid from one end of the dorm to the other. I was never certain, but I think folks a site or two over could also hear him, and the buildings weren't close in to one another.

Drove me nuts at the time, but it's long since become a treasured memory and a shared laugh with old friends.

That generation will be missed. When men were loud and the rest of us couldn't get sleep.

That generation will be missed. When men were loud and the rest of us couldn't get sleep.
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My dad, Mom and both sets of Grandparents:....Miss them all. When I was a little boy (about 3-4 years old) I went into my Great-Grandads house and wanted a glass of water....He had drawn the "Short" straw and was watching over me. No water inside, you gotta "draw" some from the well:......What does that mean???

He dropped the chute down in the well and said pull her up....Water weighed more than me... couldn't do it.....He pulled it up and showed me the lever to pull to get a drink...I put my mouth down by the spout...pulled the lever and got an ice-cold well bath.....Knew not to cry...I looked at him ....he said you learn anything?...Yep ask Great Grandma for water. Her's comes in a small bucket....He laughed and told everyone that I had learned a lot from him that day......Many, many tales to be told on this thread.....My Grandmother's family included the Younger Gang....rode with the James Boys....Another time ... another day....

My dad yelling at the tv during football games...and the news...and basketball games...and pretty much any time it was on. He was a loud man. Soft-hearted, but loud.

I'll always remember tip-toeing around the kitchen once a month on a weekend while mom figured up the paychecks and finances for the local school, a part-time gig she held while we were in school. She was not a loud woman. Soft-hearted, but very quiet. She's still alive...I just realized the way I said that made it sound like she isn't! She's still pretty quiet.

My grandmother, who raised me, was raised on an army base but had a mouth like a sailor. When she'd lose her temper she'd start swearing and her false teeth invariably came loose and would half fly out of her mouth. We knew better than to laugh but we were always happy for a good distraction because we'd slip away while she fiddled with her teeth and cursed at them, instead. Usually, she'd end up laughing, herself.

Lived with my grandparents for about a year or so.. They lived in the "sticks" in Southern Oklahoma. Grandfather won the 6 acres in a dice game. He drove a truck and when he would come back in from a trip the trailer was usually loaded down with any kind of "scrap" wood he could find....Lived in a "True"....Shotgun house....no insulation heated by pot-belly stove and light were coal Oil lamps....My grandmother's sister live with them and she had a bad arm and quite a limp....She couldn't get around very well but was sweet as sugar and yet she dipped snuff with the best of the guys....One day I saw her going to the "Outhouse"....that's an outdoor toilet to the kids..... and curiosity got the best of a little kid....can she run????We had a MEAN Billy Goat and I turned him loose on her....Yes she could run....Yes I thought my Grandfather was going to BEAT me to death...Still Funny...Even the aunt laughed after everything calmed down......got rid of the goat....

Was the only one that remembered the Blood Curdling Sound of my Dad's Belt when it came through those belt loops so fast just before I did the round and round circle......I was so glad when those little Black Bullet belts came in style.

Do you remember when the family got cleaned up to go to the Grocery Store with your parents (usually just Mom). They would moan and groan down every Grocery aisle and you ( at least me) would whine to go to TG&Y or to the Chieftain movie for the afternoon matinee.....then when they Two Huge Shopping Carts of Groceries and it cost $20.. after tax....and then the lecture would begin.."Now this has to last all week so you guys remember what we have in Refrigerator"......

Use the same glass. Look how many you have dirtied-up!

Remember my Granddaddy putting me in the drivers seat of 57 chevy truck when I was about 7 , starting it putting it in first gear told me to drive it to the house, keep my foot on the gas,until I got the to house then take my foot of the gas........then he jumped out ........I asked him what happens when i get to the pond by the fence......His answer was.... What ever you do , don't get in the pond, just hit the fence if you have to...........Sure do miss him and the farm

I remember the great childhood they raised me in.

My dad used to sing Oh my Darlin' Clementine while he shaved.

Thank you sooooooo much for mentioning that song. Ever since that "found a turtle" thread that Braums started I cant get that song outta my head. Everytime I see "found a turtle" I start singing it to "Oh My darlin" in my head. I've been doing it for days. And some of the made up lyrics are getting pretty gross. Maybe by writing this here I will excorcise it from my head....I hope. Or maybe it'll get stuck in someone elses head. Sorry for going OT.

On topic. My dad use to point out the laugh track while watching shows. Especially comedies. It made everyone miserable because once you notice the laugh track you cant "not hear it". Now I do it to my friends......evil laugh

Remember my Granddaddy putting me in the drivers seat of 57 chevy truck when I was about 7 , starting it putting it in first gear told me to drive it to the house, keep my foot on the gas,until I got the to house then take my foot of the gas........then he jumped out ........I asked him what happens when i get to the pond by the fence......His answer was.... What ever you do , don't get in the pond, just hit the fence if you have to...........Sure do miss him and the farm

And you still drive that way???

I can remember that I never heard my parents ever fighting or arguing over anything. Maybe it was done behind closed doors or out of earshot, buy never around us kids.

Gen70 - how lucky you were. Kudos to your parents. Wish my kids could say the same and if I had to do it over again, chances are they might. Many of us younguns didn't realize how important a peaceful, respectful home is. Sounds like your parents "got" it.

my dad teaching me how to drive a stick shift, the first day i cross the street into peoples yards and came about 2 inches from taking out a fence, all i remember my dad saying was ( GET OUT) after that my mom took me out to learn to drive. But the best memories were going out early in the morning to fish, going out for drives like 100 mile drives just to visit a town we have not see before in oklahoma, taking back roads, stopping off at mom and pop gas stations and stores. And me asking my parents where to next, and them saying werever this road takes us today

Granpaw always taking me trout fishing, then going to a roadside steak house afterwards with Granpaw always asking for extra fat on the side. That was back in the 1950's when a steak really tasted like steak. I can still smell it.

I NEVER COULD FIGURE OUT WHY MY DAD PUT SALT IN HIS BEER....CAN ANYONE OUT THERE TELL ME????That was a habit he had until he died...I didn't really like the taste of beer at the time so I don't know.

My dad did the same thing.

I NEVER COULD FIGURE OUT WHY MY DAD PUT SALT IN HIS BEER....CAN ANYONE OUT THERE TELL ME????That was a habit he had until he died...I didn't really like the taste of beer at the time so I don't know.

Dad did not drink much of anything but coffee and tea. His Dad, my Mom's Dad and Mother all salted their beer. Don't know the reason either but for me it gives a different, yet good taste. Like having a beer and tomato juice or V8 and beer..........................

messed with the foam, improved the taste and it was good for ya back in a time when folks tended to exert themselves more than they do today. Had a neighbor down the road that only drank after he mowed his yard, 1, sometimes 2, and always with a banana. Whether that actually helped replenish the body or simply kept the missus off his arse, I never bothered to find out.

WWII stories from Dad. I hung on every word and fortunately remembered them. He passed away at age 53--way too young, but I retold the stories for years in the history classes I taught.

Learned from Mom, who is still living, that attempting to fix anything broken--like a toaster--"couldn't hurt because it was already 'broken,' but we just might 'fix' it." Talk about a valuable life's lesson!

Remember following Grandma around her huge garden like a puppy; thought she was the smartest person in the world when she identified a mystery object hanging in a tree on the farm as "a bat, honey. It won't hurt you. It eats insects." Had no idea that she only had a third-grade education; had actually been in the back of her folks' wagon during the first land run; lived in a dugout in W. OK. Wow. True "pioneer" and indeed the smartest person I've ever known; she had true "common sense."

Best driving story: had been pestering Dad forever about letting me (a girl and only child) learn to drive the tractor on the farm. Finally, he relented, but consigned me to the small Ford tractor, not the 'real' one. Okay. No problem. I went safely back and forth in a pasture until I tired of the game and wanted to stop. I hollered, "How do I stop?" He, working some distance away, yelled, "Step on the clutch and the brake." Um, one small problem. I didn't weigh enough to put enough pressure on both of those at once. Ended up running through a fence and only stopped because the post-hole digger on the back of the tractor caught on the fence.

Never did ask to drive farm equipment again.

Best driving story: had been pestering Dad forever about letting me (a girl and only child) learn to drive the tractor on the farm. Finally, he relented, but consigned me to the small Ford tractor, not the 'real' one. Okay. No problem. I went safely back and forth in a pasture until I tired of the game and wanted to stop. I hollered, "How do I stop?" He, working some distance away, yelled, "Step on the clutch and the brake." Um, one small problem. I didn't weigh enough to put enough pressure on both of those at once. Ended up running through a fence and only stopped because the post-hole digger on the back of the tractor caught on the fence.

Never did ask to drive farm equipment again.

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A Newbie???? Share some more stories of you past....Welcome to the club...do youlive in the OKC area????

After my mother was killed in an ambulance crash just north of Norman 9/72, her parents became my guardians.

Grandad was the only doctor in Guymon for many years. He was retired by the time of my first recollection, but one of my favorite stories about him came from his practice.

About three years ago, I began a correspondence with the secretary of the Masonic Lodge in Guymon. In his reply to my first letter, Otto told me that he remembered Grandad. Turns out that when he was a boy, his litttle dog was hit by a car, breaking its leg. Otto said that when he called the vet, he was advised to shoot his dog.

Being disinclined to put the dog down, he took it over to Grandad's office. When he came into the waiting room the nurse asked what he wanted. After he explained, she told him that he couldn't stay inside with the dog, but to wait out back for Grandad. After a few minuted Gramps appeared and told Otto to return at 5:00 and he'd see what he could do.

Otto brought his little dog back that evening and Doc set the leg. Otto asked when they should return. Grandad told him he didn't need to come back, that when the dog had no further use for the cast he'd chew it off.

I've since met Otto in person and he said that little dog lived a long and happy life.

There are many stories of Grandad's compassion and generocity, but I think this one's my favorite.

Learned from Mom, who is still living, that attempting to fix anything broken--like a toaster--"couldn't hurt because it was already 'broken,' but we just might 'fix' it." Talk about a valuable life's lesson!

Remember following Grandma around her huge garden like a puppy; thought she was the smartest person in the world when she identified a mystery object hanging in a tree on the farm as "a bat, honey. It won't hurt you. It eats insects." Had no idea that she only had a third-grade education; had actually been in the back of her folks' wagon during the first land run; lived in a dugout in W. OK. Wow. True "pioneer" and indeed the smartest person I've ever known; she had true "common sense."

That is great. My Grandfather was born in Indian T., around Admore.

My mother was the gadget queen. Everything she bought (and she haunted QVC) was multi-purpose. A walking stick would have a compass on it. She'd buy binnoculars that could also take pictures. A keychain would have a flashlight, video recorder, screwdriver and tape measure. She got worse and worse as she got older. The grandkids - who loved their grandmother - used to look forward to Christmas because there was just no telling what sort of junk she'd give them. None of it was useful and it was invariably of the poorest quality but what could you do? They always laughed and hugged her neck and made her feel loved.

The good part was that Mom wasn't afraid of new technology, either. She swapped out her computer every couple of years (one granddauther in particular would have to show her how to get her favorites and e-mail set up). Mom had upteen e-mail addresses, subscribed to multiple virus protections, went on message boards (collectables and books and god knows what else). Of course, BOOKs weren't gadgety enough. She had a vast liabrary of books on tapes and DVDs. She kept in touch with the grandkids when they were in college via e-mail from as far back as 1992. She had digital cameras and the latest gadgetry for printing photos.

And that is just the beginning of the stuff she collected. Frankly, it made me nuts but I miss it, sorta, now that she is gone. My girls recently got kindles (I already had one) and then they took my advice on my favorite camera (a Canon G10). That, coupled with my message boards and blogging prompted my youngest to say I was turning into Gadget Grandma which kind of made my blood run cold but at the same time, it was nice to think of mom.

My dad was a tender hearted animal lover who used to be a hunter and turned into an environmentalist in his last years. He was passionate about Wetlands and preserving the Tall Grass Prairie and National Parks. He loved his cats and was good to my dogs. He called my late sister, "Princess One" and I was "Princess Two" when we were little. He was a deep thinker and enjoyed drinking beer and solving the problems of the world. He loved God and struggled with his faith until he reached a point where he learned to trust God to do what God was going to do. He believed in ghosts and wanted to see a UFO but never did - to his laughing disappointment. He loved his garden and took joy in life. He loved to sing out loud. He wasn't Irish, but you'd never believe it because he definitely kissed the blarney stone. To me, he was larger than life, young at heart and an old soul. I miss him, everyday. And feel his presence. Of all the ones in my family who have gone on, before, he is the one who feels as if he is still standing guard.

My dad was a tender hearted animal lover who used to be a hunter and turned into an environmentalist in his last years. He was passionate about Wetlands and preserving the Tall Grass Prairie and National Parks. He loved his cats and was good to my dogs. He called my late sister, "Princess One" and I was "Princess Two" when we were little. He was a deep thinker and enjoyed drinking beer and solving the problems of the world. He loved God and struggled with his faith until he reached a point where he learned to trust God to do what God was going to do. He believed in ghosts and wanted to see a UFO but never did - to his laughing disappointment. He loved his garden and took joy in life. He loved to sing out loud. He wasn't Irish, but you'd never believe it because he definitely kissed the blarney stone. To me, he was larger than life, young at heart and an old soul. I miss him, everyday. And feel his presence. Of all the ones in my family who have gone on, before, he is the one who feels as if he is still standing guard.

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I've always told my wife that I would probably go before she does and to listen for a still fresh breath of air over her right shoulder...Then she'll know I'll Always be with her......Cool story ECO....Miss my Dad a lot....The kicker of my life is I really miss my Mother-In-Law......Super close....

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A Newbie???? Share some more stories of you past....Welcome to the club...do youlive in the OKC area????

Not new really; just didn't know about this particular thread, which is great.

Yes, I now live in OKC; have for years, but grew up on a farm in far N. OK.

Just love reading all these posts. Sometimes in the "now," we forget the "then"--and don't really mention it when friends or family members say, "oh yes, you've told us all that before." Nice to share good memories with new friends!

Another fun experience with Dad: we had sheep on our farm; coyotes were killing them at a frightening pace; Dad [who was a hunter anyway] often staked out the pastures where the sheep were just to see if the coyotes would show up [they will hunt in the daytime too]. One day I was with him as he went to check on the sheep and saw a coyote; he always carried the rifle in the gun rack in the pickup, but he couldn't drive across the very rough field and get a good shot. I was only about twelve, but I'd been allowed to drive the pickup around the farm before. He stopped the truck and said, "You drive. I'll shoot." A kid lives for something like this! We were zipping across that field about 40 mph [which doesn't sound fast until you realize we were going airborn on some of the terraces!!]. We caught up with the coyote; one shot from Dad [who was an expert shot] and no more coyote.

As we headed home, he said, "Don't tell your mother what we did. She won't be happy that I let you drive like that, but that was great driving." It was MANY years later that I told her the story--to her total amusement. :LolLolLol

After my mother was killed in an ambulance crash just north of Norman 9/72, her parents became my guardians.

Grandad was the only doctor in Guymon for many years. He was retired by the time of my first recollection, but one of my favorite stories about him came from his practice.

About three years ago, I began a correspondence with the secretary of the Masonic Lodge in Guymon. In his reply to my first letter, Otto told me that he remembered Grandad. Turns out that when he was a boy, his litttle dog was hit by a car, breaking its leg. Otto said that when he called the vet, he was advised to shoot his dog.

Being disinclined to put the dog down, he took it over to Grandad's office. When he came into the waiting room the nurse asked what he wanted. After he explained, she told him that he couldn't stay inside with the dog, but to wait out back for Grandad. After a few minuted Gramps appeared and told Otto to return at 5:00 and he'd see what he could do.

Otto brought his little dog back that evening and Doc set the leg. Otto asked when they should return. Grandad told him he didn't need to come back, that when the dog had no further use for the cast he'd chew it off.

I've since met Otto in person and he said that little dog lived a long and happy life.

There are many stories of Grandad's compassion and generocity, but I think this one's my favorite.


Just LOVE this story! What a truly compassionate person! You have to be very proud of your granddad...and how wonderful to meet Otto and learn of the story.

My dad was a tender hearted animal lover who used to be a hunter and turned into an environmentalist in his last years. He was passionate about Wetlands and preserving the Tall Grass Prairie and National Parks. He loved his cats and was good to my dogs. He called my late sister, "Princess One" and I was "Princess Two" when we were little. He was a deep thinker and enjoyed drinking beer and solving the problems of the world. He loved God and struggled with his faith until he reached a point where he learned to trust God to do what God was going to do. He believed in ghosts and wanted to see a UFO but never did - to his laughing disappointment. He loved his garden and took joy in life. He loved to sing out loud. He wasn't Irish, but you'd never believe it because he definitely kissed the blarney stone. To me, he was larger than life, young at heart and an old soul. I miss him, everyday. And feel his presence. Of all the ones in my family who have gone on, before, he is the one who feels as if he is still standing guard.

Lots of similarities to my dad, although Dad didn't believe in ghosts. Yet, his mom could "witch" for water very successfully; he had that "gift" as well. Would never have believed in it had I not seen both of them do it.

While Dad always was a hunter, he was also a conservationist; he participated in the quail restock and release program; was always concerned about the environment being cared for so there would always be wildlife habitat. He particularly liked Robert S. Kerr's approach to water and wildlife conservation. I learned a lot from Dad.

Lots of similarities to my dad, although Dad didn't believe in ghosts. Yet, his mom could "witch" for water very successfully; he had that "gift" as well. Would never have believed in it had I not seen both of them do it.

While Dad always was a hunter, he was also a conservationist; he participated in the quail restock and release program; was always concerned about the environment being cared for so there would always be wildlife habitat. He particularly liked Robert S. Kerr's approach to water and wildlife conservation. I learned a lot from Dad.
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My Grandfather taught me how to "witch" for water....Found One place one time....thought I was cool. But, I have always been able to fine pipes in the ground with a "witching" rod....My son thought I was "crazy" until he dug down about 18 inches and ta-da...there it was.....Probably just lucky on my part but I never told him anything else...

I was "Growling" at one of my boys the other day and told him I'd give "Anything" just to see my Parents again....Much less get smart with them....Then I thought about this thread and remembered some of the quotes here and the laughing thoughts within and all and all our parents were basically all the same. they wanted to give us what they didn't have and yet instill in us the importance of living a "good" life..... thanks everyone....

I was "Growling" at one of my boys the other day and told him I'd give "Anything" just to see my Parents again....Much less get smart with them....Then I thought about this thread and remembered some of the quotes here and the laughing thoughts within and all and all our parents were basically all the same. they wanted to give us what they didn't have and yet instill in us the importance of living a "good" life..... thanks everyone....

Like I have told my kids and grandkids that if your parents do not want a better life for you then they ar not any kind of parent at all.

My Father was of the old regime...You don't us the "F" word around women (ladies or not)....When I was about 9, maybe 8 I was with him at a Truck Stop and there was a guy that every other word was the "F" word....My dad didn't ask, he told the guy to quit using it around me.....As we were going home I very innocently asked him what did "F" mean???? His response (after about 2 minutes of stuttering) told me to ask the kid that lived behind us on the next block....He can explain it better than I can but don't you DARE ask you Mother....Never did ....was in total shock when I found out....I was only 8 or 9 but my dad did have his scruples....Oh yeah, the other guy quit using the word immediately.....I guess my dad had a sterner part in his voice than I realized....Miss him...Mon 9/7 was his birthday/.....88 years old....

Yeah, used to be that people would stop the language immediately if reminded and a kid or a woman was present. Usually with a horrified look on their face that they had "slipped." That was nice...

It's not just the guys anymore with the bad language, it's the girls as well.

It's not just the guys anymore with the bad language, it's the girls as well.

and not just a few...............

memory of my father-in-law....He got a little testy with my mother-in-law (miss her) one time before he went on a road trip to Colorado for business. He demanded his boxers be Ironed and he got kinda smart with the Mother-in-law...so, she let him, then she made some Faultless starch and starched them all. They were ironed he was chaffed before he got home....apologies went everywhere me, I was in the floor laughing.....so was my wife and her sisters.....He wasn't so testy after that....She also sew the legs together (ast the bottom) of his work pants. He told me later he was more embarassed at the jabs the other men gave him while he was away....

memory of my father-in-law....He got a little testy with my mother-in-law (miss her) one time before he went on a road trip to Colorado for business. He demanded his boxers be Ironed and he got kinda smart with the Mother-in-law...so, she let him, then she made some Faultless starch and starched them all. They were ironed he was chaffed before he got home....apologies went everywhere me, I was in the floor laughing.....so was my wife and her sisters.....He wasn't so testy after that....She also sew the legs together (ast the bottom) of his work pants. He told me later he was more embarassed at the jabs the other men gave him while he was away....

That's funny...............that probably something I would do....be careful don't bit the hand that feds you.....

I remember around dinner time my father would come out on the front porch and whistle very lould (you could hear it for blocks) this meant that you dropped what ever you were doing and run, (not walk) home as fast as you could, and if you didn't get there quick enough you literaly got kicked in the ass on the way thru the door. I miss my Dad.

Mom is still living. Dad passed away 10/6/86. I miss him every day. He was my hero. Dad didn't have much to say. He was in the army during WWII, he grew up on a farm, plowed most of the tillable acreage around Tuttle during the depression. He was a mechanic for Fleming Foods for about 38 years. He was tough, strong, kind and wise. He often said he would rather take a beating than to argue with someone.

I learned from one of his old co-workers at Fleming that what he really meant was he'd rather beat someone than argue. This actually happened. He cared for the forklifts and towmotors in the warehouse. Any one of those machines that might be on the fritz was left parked in his shop inside the warehouse at the end of the shift (there were 2). One of the second shift men had been riding Dad to fix a problem that Dad said the man was causing by his carelessness. Dad told him he was only going to fix it one more time and if the same thing happened again, too bad. He'd just have to live without the forklift.

It did happen again and Dad left it un-fixed. The man caught up wit Dad right outside the office of the warehouse superintendent, where you could see the super through windows that allowed him to keep watch on the warehouse. The guy yelled at Dad for a couple of minutes with Dad not saying anything. Then the man did what anyone who knew my Dad would know not to EVER do. He called him a son-of-a-bitch. Dad decked him with one shot straight to the chin. The super who had been watching what was happening through the window was suddenly interested in something on his desk, as if he had seen nothing. Nothing else was ever said about it.

Ahh - when men were men ...

Great story!

was it me or did Everyone's parents do this?....First name called...(I didn't answer) first name called second time(I didn't answer) First, Middle, and Last name called...Boy was I in trouble....did this ever happen to you or do you have the nerve to admit????

was it me or did Everyone's parents do this?....First name called...(I didn't answer) first name called second time(I didn't answer) First, Middle, and Last name called...Boy was I in trouble....did this ever happen to you or do you have the nerve to admit????

me..me...me....me.....me......me.......me too!

My favorite Dad moment was when he saw his "dream grill" finally available in our neck of the woods..
He waited, and waited and waited finally the store had a sales circular saying it was 50$, this was 1974.
Turns out it was actually 15$ more then it was before the sale.
When he came home the NEXT day AFTER the sale, he took me there to return it ,raised all kinds of hell for getting "screwed".
They gave him the refund, and then his mouth opened and he will never returned.
He sent me or my mom to get stuff...
Dont get me wrong I always believed my dad was a jackass, but with this one instance he proved it. lol

My favorite Dad moment was when he saw his "dream grill" finally available in our neck of the woods..
He waited, and waited and waited finally the store had a sales circular saying it was 50$, this was 1974.
Turns out it was actually 15$ more then it was before the sale.
When he came home the NEXT day AFTER the sale, he took me there to return it ,raised all kinds of hell for getting "screwed".
They gave him the refund, and then his mouth opened and he will never returned.
He sent me or my mom to get stuff...
Dont get me wrong I always believed my dad was a jackass, but with this one instance he proved it. lol

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He's still your dad.....wish I could see mine again....don't care how tough he was...

Yeah...My dad was like a drill instructer...but as I got older I understood why.

My dad was a drill instruction for the boys but not to his princesses!

My dad was a drill instruction for the boys but not to his princesses!
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Yeah, I had five (5) of those princesses to compete with.....Hey, did you see who came to our last meeting???? Count Gregore himself and Elvira....Kinda cool even for old folks....

My sons met my Dad.
As we were driving off both of them said "I am amazed you're not seeing a psychiatrist..lol
The fun of waiting 4 hours for a flight back to OKC kinda made the time with my sons all the more fun.
I guess the experience I had with my Dad, made it better for my sons.
I broke the cycle. =}

My Dad is witty and funny. Never have known him to be a yeller but you know when you have crossed the line.

My Paternal grandparents was the abs best!!
My granddad was retired OSS, he was a photo analyst, he own/operated 4 businesses, grandma about 10.
Grandma was a professional baseball player in WW2, they were married at Wigley Field.
We always had tickets except one time we left the hotel without them.
Grandpa paid to get us on the roof of the houses near by.
He later said "it cost me more the a Honolulu hooker." LOL
They would take me to National Parks, when I was 16, he paid for me to go "experience" Amsterdam, with a older group of friends (US Marines) that was station at the Paris Embassy where Dad was attache.
When I was 18 they sent me to Tuscany for 3 months.
When I decided to join the Corps, they sent me off to Japan spending 3 months there also.
My grands not only push me to be open minded, they encourage me to head out there.
I lost them both over 7 years ago. 4 months apart.

My parents when they were "Broke" that just tightened up their Belts....No Welfare...Now, there used to be commodities that some of the neighbors would get. My dad drove a Produce truck and he always had fresh produce so they would trade for the Butter...Peanut Butter and the Block Cheese....The parents we all had.....Made it work.....they didn't run to the corner and spend the last nickle on Marijuana so they could forget for a while....they took trouble by the horns.....Mine did..... did yours????

Mine did. Ya know, there's always a better way than the wrong way.

Momma Murphey "never raised..no..fools"..