The only difficulty lay in the fact that all summer, there had been gangs of young men between the ranch buildings and the fields. Seismic crews more-or-less busy laying out lines and setting the charges that would indicate hidden reserves of oil.
The difficult part was in riding past them.
It made me feel rather . . . conspicuous.
He was a true gentlemen who personified my favourite expression, Nothing so strong as gentleness. Nothing so gentle as real strength.
You never know when you'll run into a true gentleman. Best to keep your eyes open.
I looked around at my lovely, soft friend. Pffff! How could I possibly get hurt?
That way, it couldn't leap out at me unexpectedly.
I'm happy to report that today, over 56 years later, I no longer jump on beds. The ceiling is simply too close for comfort.
Labels: Where memories come from.
When I was four, my parents had a TV.
A wonderful, marvellous creation that stood on its own four legs in one corner of the living room.
And, if one waited, showed the most magical, amazing programs. Like Friendly Giant.
After breakfast, I would hurry to the living room—and the TV therein—and look to see if something had appeared.
Let’s face it. I lived on a ranch. Breakfast was E.A.R.L.Y.
And the TV stations didn’t wake up until long after morning chores were done.
I would stare at the dark screen for a while, quietly willing something to happen.
During those early hours, play often consisted of something that kept me close to said TV.
Or following Mom around, asking when Friendly Giant would be on.
Once in a while, the genius woman would say, “Soon,” park her repetitive and annoying daughter in front of the set, and turn it on.
The Indian Head test pattern would show its familiar face. So to speak.
And keep me entertained for some time.
Did you know that, if you stare at it long enough, it . . . changes?
Eventually, ‘O, Canada’ would start and, immediately after that, I would see tiny little figures and ‘that big boot’.
My day had officially begun.
Moving forward a generation . . .
No longer did one ever stare at a blank screen or a test pattern.
For my eldest son, it was a matter of watching some lessor show whilst waiting for Sesame Street to come on.
Because the programs just kept on coming.
Another generation forward . . .
Yesterday, my granddaughter (Hereinafter known as Little Girl—or LG for short—was sitting in her parents’ bedroom.
Looking up at the big screen TV on the wall.
Labels: Where's your patience threshold?
We were having dinner with our good friends.
Tammy’s husby - I’ll call him Gord - spoke up.
We waited for the punch line.
Labels: Warning: Ummm . . . ick.
And, nimble kids that we were, we never got burned even once.
Labels: What's handed down in your family?
For over forty years, I’ve kept a garden.
I will stick with the appreciating.
Labels: You grow - I'll butter!