Say It Ain't So !

I normally do not tell a story on the wife, as I would not want to embarrass her, but we have both laughed many times over this one, so I know she won't mind.

A few weeks back she had a doctor's appointment with a specialist to try to pinpoint a circulation problem she is having. It was an early morning appointment at one of the major teaching hospitals in downtown Nashville. So we set the alarm clock, which we had to locate, since we rarely use it,  retired, don't you know, and set it for 6:00 A.M.

We were running a few minutes behind, threw on our "city clothes," and prepared to drive down off of the ridge in hopes the traffic would not be too bad. We made it with about ten minutes to spare.

There we are sitting in the exam room waiting for the doctor and his intern, and she looks down and discovers that her shoes do not match. Same color and basic style, but no match! The doctor's come in, and she is doing her best to hide her feet.  I'm pretty sure they saw the difference, and figured it was a "geezer" thing and tactfully made no mention of it, and having better sense, I sure wasn't going to mention it!

After we finished up at the hospital, we were starving, so we headed for a Cracker Barrel for a little breakfast, she, still hoping no one would notice her two odd shoes.
After we order, I look across the table and on her blouse is a long plastic tape with the size on it, about three quarters down the front. A new blouse no doubt that she hadn't inspected yet. Now, I know we are both getting on in years, but old age can certainly humble you, with what it has in store.

Her explanation was that she had reached into the closet where she keeps her shoes, with out turning the light on and grabbed a pair of shoes. Same for the dresser for the blouse. We both had a good laugh thinking that the doctor's figured that we were just good country folks from up on the ridge, and old one's to boot!

She has another appointment coming up, and both of us agree that a full dress inspection is in order before we leave the house!
Oh, the joy's of getting older!

 

A Short Stroll

Our little village here on the ridge has a Greenway that circles the entire town.
The city fathers had this built some years ago and did a fantastic job. The pathway is twelve foot wide, black top and follows a creek through the woods for most of the seven miles of it.
I just noticed that I used the word "creek." Here in our part the south, there are no brooks, or streams, as they are called in other parts of the U.S. I have lived in.
Everything is a creek!
Anyway, yesterday was one of those days that is rare for late July, cool with just a touch of a breeze. So we headed for the Greenway for a little walk. One of the access points is just a short way from the house, so off we go.
The day was so nice, that we had strolled well over a mile and a half before we knew it.
Generally, we are good for about a half of a mile total. The rest of the story, is that we had to walk back! Now, for an old geezer and gezzerette, the stroll turned into a three mile endurance contest to get back to the access point. The old axiom, "With age, comes wisdom" certainly eluded us yesterday.
This fall, when the weather cools, I'm sure we will try the Greenway again, but with a back pack, plenty of water, and a few snacks. Lesson learned!

 

Flying With Red

When you get up in years, it seems you have a lot of time to reflect on the past. Things just jump out in what memory you have left. Sometimes happy, sometimes not so much.
The house is quiet, no TV blaring, and that's a good time to sit and just think.
So, hang on, and I'll share a little of my past.
When I was sixteen, I spent the entire summer with my grandmother in a small Mississippi river town. Next door to her lived a fellow named "Red."
Now Red made his living crop dusting, and in the winter went to Florida to do the same. I have always been crazy about planes and flying, so Red was a hero to me.
I had been badgering him pretty badly about taking me flying, I guess he finally got tired of it and caved in! I met him the next day at a small dirt strip he had on the edge of the Delta. He had two old Stearman planes, one rigged for dusting, and the other
somewhat dolled up in a red coat of paint.
Man, I was ready to go, didn't sleep much the night before in anticipation of the next day.
I put on the old cloth helmet he gave me, with goggles no less. clawed my way up to the front cockpit, and was told no matter what, not to touch the control stick or rudder pedals, and to pull the seat belt as tight as I could get it. The real excitement began when he started up the old Pratt and Whitney round engine! In a cloud of dust on that hot summer day, we lifted off. It was a ride I will never forget! I think Red put that Stearman through every maneuver he knew. Snap rolls, stalls, inverted flight, you name it. I couldn't get enough! Finally we headed back for his dirt strip. I couldn't thank Red enough for the ride.
Years later, flying the old Cessna 172 I used to rent, I thought about those maneuvers that Red did, but knew the wings would probably fold, if I tried some of the stuff he did on that day.
About four years after that ride with Red, he was killed dusting a field. They said he hooked a wire, and the whole plane turned into a fireball. Sad day, he was a good person.
Some of the happiest days of my life were spent in the cockpit. Great memories and plenty of stories to remember. The old saying among pilots still rings true.
"There are old pilots and bold pilots, but no old, bold pilots."

Lucky Find !

I've been needing some more .*** ammo, as I had used some of it up a while back.
So, the search was on. I knew none of the big box stores had anything other than shotgun shells, and that the sports stores didn't have even that. I had heard that one gun store in our area, might have a few bits and pieces, and upon arrival, that's what they had...junk ammo!
Monday, the wife and I passed through a small village, and wouldn't you know it, a gun shop at the edge of the town! I wheeled the Pilot into the tiny lot, and like a kid at Christmas, could not wait to see if he had any ammo at all! When I opened the door to the place, there was an entire wall of cartridge box's, mostly pistol calibers and combinations.
Come to find out, folks in his area of the mountains don't shoot pistols very much, so he had a fair amount of stock, including my .*** personal defence ammo.
But, very few rifle calibers..... and shot gun  shells...forget about it!
Maybe I can work out a deal with him on an excess of **-** shells I have. So if you are having a problem getting the ammo you want, try the out of the way places.
I felt pretty happy driving home with the .*** ammo, that I had just about given up on finding, here in Middle Tennessee anyway.
 

What The.........

I'm about half afraid to post anything! If indeed "they" are watching us, why give them something that will put you on the list.

Sooo, I guess I will just stick to mundane post's, you know, the weather, and how fast the lawn is growing, that sort of thing.

I quite honestly never thought I would see a time in America when you had to guard your opinion of current news events, but, I believe that day has come, whether it be on the net or even on the telephone!

All of this makes me ask the question....What the Hell is happening to our great country, and WHY are we letting it happen?

'Nuff said.

Here On The Ridge

Looks like our winter snowstorm LOL, has finally blown to the east. We received about an inch and a half of the white stuff here on the ridge, the salt and brine trucks went into high gear spreading enough salt to rust out a battleship! I had to run to the hardware store to get a new light switch, and now my old Ranger truck which is black, has gray sides. We have so may hills and hollers here on the ridge, I guess the salt is needed. Maybe I can wash it in a week or so when the weather gets up around 60 degrees.

A few weeks back we had so much wind that it blew down 25 foot of my wood fence.
The posts have been set for the new fence, but the cold and snow halted any further work on it. Then the garage door opener motor gave up the ghost. It only took two times to manually open it in the rain to send me down to the flatland Lowe's for a replacement. The new one fit right up, but replacing it in below freezing temps was a challenge. My son lives not far from us and his help was most appreciated, especially for an old geezer like myself. Always something it seems like, but hay, that's just life.

Last month, we did manage to load the Pilot, and head for Longboat Key in Florida.
What a welcome break it was. 85 degree days and soft warm breezes. I somehow forget to pack some walking shorts, so a trip to Wal*Mart was the first order of business. I could sure use some of that warm weather right about now! We also celebrated our 50th wedding anniversary while down there. Seems like only yesterday we were both in college, and I was bird dogging who would become my wife and best friend.

This morning we woke up to what sounded like someone running a lawn mower. No way I thought, so curiosity got the best of me, I looked outside and saw two kids from down the road on a go-cart. They were hitting the icy patches in the road and making circles. Looked like great fun, but it was 32 degrees, and I'm sure their face were frozen in a big grin.

Come on Spring!!!!



 

Simple Truth

It's not about guns, it's the culture!

Think about it.