If you're a blogger and would like your blog, or just name, advertised here's a great way to do it....click here.
This is a promotion by my good friend, Modern Day Redneck. The project is for a worthy cause. Trust me.
The cost is only $10.00. It's worth it if for nothing more than getting your blog some advertisement. He'll be crafting your sign by hand and he does quality work. He has a large following on his blog, and his farm is visited on a monthly basis by Dallas, Texas locals. The signs will be posted next month. Please, lend a hand and on behalf of my friend, I thank you.
Stephen
Autumn
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
It's The Little Things
This morning on our drive to school.
"Papa, turn the radio off. I only want to hear my Papa talking to me."
"Excuse me?"
Her, with a miniature adult stern look thrown my way. "Papa, I said to turn off the radio. I mean it."
Back at her, "Young lady, mind your manners."
"Papa," She crosses her arms, turns slightly in her seat. Lowers her head a bit and again with the stern look. "You should always do what I tell you."
I think about her response for a second. Not liking the direction of this conversation.
"Little Bit, perhaps you should rephrase what you've just said to Papa."
Silence. Then, "Oh, okay. Please."
Much better.
All men should know their limitations.
Stephen
"Papa, turn the radio off. I only want to hear my Papa talking to me."
"Excuse me?"
Her, with a miniature adult stern look thrown my way. "Papa, I said to turn off the radio. I mean it."
Back at her, "Young lady, mind your manners."
"Papa," She crosses her arms, turns slightly in her seat. Lowers her head a bit and again with the stern look. "You should always do what I tell you."
I think about her response for a second. Not liking the direction of this conversation.
"Little Bit, perhaps you should rephrase what you've just said to Papa."
Silence. Then, "Oh, okay. Please."
Much better.
All men should know their limitations.
Stephen
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
To Help Kill The Long Hours of Winter
For the five or six readers that frequent this blog which have been bitten by the reading bug and have a great desire to scratch the itch, go here.
When you arrive, glance left and hit chapter one. This is Craig Cavanaugh's writing blog.
Give it a try and enjoy.
Stephen
Bless Her
I'm a man. I fought and bleed for my country. I'm a member of the gun culture. I've been called a 'hard man' by many. I seldom if ever tolerate unmanly behavior in other men.
But this, my friends, was hard for me to watch because, I've had, far in the past, the same thoughts that - well, watch and you'll understand.
Stephen
But this, my friends, was hard for me to watch because, I've had, far in the past, the same thoughts that - well, watch and you'll understand.
Stephen
The Blog Of The Week
I've had this idea bounce around my noggin for a few days now; why not spot-light one blog a week. Not just any blog, but one I feel doesn't receive the recognition it deserves.
I read a tremendous number of blogs daily. So much so I find myself screening out those that do not update on a regular basis. With this in mind I feel it's important that I bring to your attention those blogs, not only well written, but kept fresh, with lively stories, ideas, and with a personal touch. Give me something of your life, and for pete's sake, not one dimensional.
Cut and paste isn't original. One post a month and you've lost me. Fail to reply to my comments and you've hurt my feelings; I may indeed return but the enthusiasm to join in your subject or debate has been nullified.
My friend and fellow grandfather, Flier389 qualifies. His blog, Granddad's Corner, is witty and intelligently written. Once in a while his lovely wife, Kathi, will post a recipe, which is close to my heart.
Please, run by and say hello and tell them Stephen sent you.
My friend deserves an audience.
Expect this 'Blog of the Week' to become a regular post and hey, let me know if you like this idea of mine, and if you feel there is a blog out there of which I'm unaware - let me know. I've a headache this morning and need some cheerful responses.
Thanks,
Stephen
I read a tremendous number of blogs daily. So much so I find myself screening out those that do not update on a regular basis. With this in mind I feel it's important that I bring to your attention those blogs, not only well written, but kept fresh, with lively stories, ideas, and with a personal touch. Give me something of your life, and for pete's sake, not one dimensional.
Cut and paste isn't original. One post a month and you've lost me. Fail to reply to my comments and you've hurt my feelings; I may indeed return but the enthusiasm to join in your subject or debate has been nullified.
My friend and fellow grandfather, Flier389 qualifies. His blog, Granddad's Corner, is witty and intelligently written. Once in a while his lovely wife, Kathi, will post a recipe, which is close to my heart.
Please, run by and say hello and tell them Stephen sent you.
My friend deserves an audience.
Expect this 'Blog of the Week' to become a regular post and hey, let me know if you like this idea of mine, and if you feel there is a blog out there of which I'm unaware - let me know. I've a headache this morning and need some cheerful responses.
Thanks,
Stephen
Monday, November 14, 2011
Bits & Pieces
Where to begin.....it's been a long and rather peaceful weekend with minor injections of activity thrown in here and there. Little Bit came to stay with Papa last Thursday night. She stayed through Saturday afternoon. Her Nana left Friday to drive out of state to attend to Nana's mother, so Little Bit took care of Papa over the weekend.
Veteran's Day was nice. (Note, here Little Bit has instructed me to explain to you she's 'making' me tell you, her fans, exactly 'how it was.')
Little Bit had a burning desire to watch the movie 'Puss n' Boots. She instructed me on my dress, no red shirts, and exactly how to brush my hair (she finally climbed onto the vanity and took brush in hand) and after passing inspection we loaded up and took off for lunch and a movie.
We drove across the river to a local Cracker Barrel. A neat restaurant that features country food and decorated with antiques that hang from almost every available surface. Once we were inside our senses were assaulted with Christmas decorations stacked and blocking the aisles....just a bit early in my estimation. Anyway, we finally get a table and order our meals. I opted for their classic bacon cheeseburger while Little Bit wanted mac n' cheese. My burger arrives. Little Bit looks at me and said, "Papa, don't eat the bacon."
"Why?"
"Because, Papa, it'll make you sick and if you gets sick I'll be all lonely and Nana will cry and then you'll go to the hospital and get shots and stuff and I don't want to be all alone and then who will I play with..."
I gently remove my bacon, tears filled eyes on my part over the loss of meat candy, shove it aside and eat my plain old burger. I waited for any opportunity to present itself to sneak it back into my meal....but no. She reaches over and takes my bacon. Just took it, and then proceeds to eat it.
"Little Bit."
"What, Papa."
"You just ate Papa's bacon. Why did you eat Papa's bacon?"
"Because I'm young and you're not and it won't hurt me. May I have a french fry."
At one point I had to escort her to the rest room. Next to the restroom were a couple of water fountains and hung next to the fountain was an old page taken from a long ago outdoors magazine. Now, I ask you, do you think any business in the Northeastern United States would dare decorate a wall with this old ad...
I gave deep thought and consideration in means of removal. I mean I love it and know it'd look good on my shops wall. I at least have an idea now. I still have many old magazines with ads similar to this one, slap it in a frame, and well, you know.
Here's another blurry picture of Little Bit and the Kleanbore picture.
She said she doesn't like this picture but here it is none the less....sorry for her messy hair, we had high winds and Papa's not very good with a brush.
After lunch we had a hour or so to kill. Went and purchased our movie tickets, afterwards I asked her what we should do to pass the time. I wanted to take in the Gander Mountain (sporting goods) next door. She said, let's walk.
We did. So outside and across the parking lot we went, she scouted good penny picking ground along the way, found two. She held my hand and pulled me towards a lake next to and behind Gander Mountain. Here, we have lakes and ponds by the thousands.
She sang and skipped and stalked ducks. It was a nice cool day with just a bit of wind.
I was able to convince her to take Papa to Gander. She said I could only stay for ten minutes. She said, Papa, you have enough 'ammunitions.'
She has a point.
Above, taken this morning. If you've ever, and I know you haven't, wondered what color of eyes I have, take a good look at her. We had a great weekend.
Change of subject. My good friend, John, took a trip to North Georgia this weekend and came through for me on flint.
These are two beautiful examples of Georgia pink flint.
Each are about two inches long and should help me in the knuckle busting department.
Oh, forgot one minor detail while in the movie. It was quiet, I mean quiet in the theater prior to the start of the movie. I'd purchased Little Bit the smallest Coke on the menu...it was about half a gallon. That along with her chips and a bottle of water for me, another half gallon size (only size available, kid you not) came to $26.00. Tickets cost me $17.00, senior and child prices....do the math. Anyway, after we're seated she begins to suck down the Coke. I leaned over and said, in barely audible whisper, "Honey, don't drink so much or pretty soon you need to go 'peepee.' We were the only couple in our section of the room, way up top, where I like it. She jerks away from me, looks up with little tears in her eyes and moves away.
I asked, "What's wrong?"
She leans back towards me and said, "Oh, Papa." In a soft hurt whisper. "You've embarrassed me, now I want to go home." She begins to cry in earnest.
It took me a good ten minutes to calm her down and assure her our conversation had been private and not overheard. Took her into my arms and kissed and loved her and, thank God, she was back to normal in time for the movie.
Later, on the ride home she again addressed the issue of Papa's infraction.
I promised I'd never say, 'peepee' in public again. Here she is on the ride home. She'd taken my right arm wrapped her arms around it and placed it on the seat and used a truck blanket as a pillow. She passed out within minutes. Ever driven twenty five miles through city traffic with only your left hand...
Enough. I won't go into detail about Sweet Wife's return home and how she wrangled me into Christmas shopping yesterday....needless to say we punched a hole in our list. And, spent far more cash than we should have. Grandchildren you know.
Stephen
Veteran's Day was nice. (Note, here Little Bit has instructed me to explain to you she's 'making' me tell you, her fans, exactly 'how it was.')
Little Bit had a burning desire to watch the movie 'Puss n' Boots. She instructed me on my dress, no red shirts, and exactly how to brush my hair (she finally climbed onto the vanity and took brush in hand) and after passing inspection we loaded up and took off for lunch and a movie.
We drove across the river to a local Cracker Barrel. A neat restaurant that features country food and decorated with antiques that hang from almost every available surface. Once we were inside our senses were assaulted with Christmas decorations stacked and blocking the aisles....just a bit early in my estimation. Anyway, we finally get a table and order our meals. I opted for their classic bacon cheeseburger while Little Bit wanted mac n' cheese. My burger arrives. Little Bit looks at me and said, "Papa, don't eat the bacon."
"Why?"
"Because, Papa, it'll make you sick and if you gets sick I'll be all lonely and Nana will cry and then you'll go to the hospital and get shots and stuff and I don't want to be all alone and then who will I play with..."
I gently remove my bacon, tears filled eyes on my part over the loss of meat candy, shove it aside and eat my plain old burger. I waited for any opportunity to present itself to sneak it back into my meal....but no. She reaches over and takes my bacon. Just took it, and then proceeds to eat it.
"Little Bit."
"What, Papa."
"You just ate Papa's bacon. Why did you eat Papa's bacon?"
"Because I'm young and you're not and it won't hurt me. May I have a french fry."
At one point I had to escort her to the rest room. Next to the restroom were a couple of water fountains and hung next to the fountain was an old page taken from a long ago outdoors magazine. Now, I ask you, do you think any business in the Northeastern United States would dare decorate a wall with this old ad...
I gave deep thought and consideration in means of removal. I mean I love it and know it'd look good on my shops wall. I at least have an idea now. I still have many old magazines with ads similar to this one, slap it in a frame, and well, you know.
Here's another blurry picture of Little Bit and the Kleanbore picture.
She said she doesn't like this picture but here it is none the less....sorry for her messy hair, we had high winds and Papa's not very good with a brush.
After lunch we had a hour or so to kill. Went and purchased our movie tickets, afterwards I asked her what we should do to pass the time. I wanted to take in the Gander Mountain (sporting goods) next door. She said, let's walk.
We did. So outside and across the parking lot we went, she scouted good penny picking ground along the way, found two. She held my hand and pulled me towards a lake next to and behind Gander Mountain. Here, we have lakes and ponds by the thousands.
She sang and skipped and stalked ducks. It was a nice cool day with just a bit of wind.
I was able to convince her to take Papa to Gander. She said I could only stay for ten minutes. She said, Papa, you have enough 'ammunitions.'
She has a point.
Above, taken this morning. If you've ever, and I know you haven't, wondered what color of eyes I have, take a good look at her. We had a great weekend.
Change of subject. My good friend, John, took a trip to North Georgia this weekend and came through for me on flint.
These are two beautiful examples of Georgia pink flint.
Each are about two inches long and should help me in the knuckle busting department.
Oh, forgot one minor detail while in the movie. It was quiet, I mean quiet in the theater prior to the start of the movie. I'd purchased Little Bit the smallest Coke on the menu...it was about half a gallon. That along with her chips and a bottle of water for me, another half gallon size (only size available, kid you not) came to $26.00. Tickets cost me $17.00, senior and child prices....do the math. Anyway, after we're seated she begins to suck down the Coke. I leaned over and said, in barely audible whisper, "Honey, don't drink so much or pretty soon you need to go 'peepee.' We were the only couple in our section of the room, way up top, where I like it. She jerks away from me, looks up with little tears in her eyes and moves away.
I asked, "What's wrong?"
She leans back towards me and said, "Oh, Papa." In a soft hurt whisper. "You've embarrassed me, now I want to go home." She begins to cry in earnest.
It took me a good ten minutes to calm her down and assure her our conversation had been private and not overheard. Took her into my arms and kissed and loved her and, thank God, she was back to normal in time for the movie.
Later, on the ride home she again addressed the issue of Papa's infraction.
I promised I'd never say, 'peepee' in public again. Here she is on the ride home. She'd taken my right arm wrapped her arms around it and placed it on the seat and used a truck blanket as a pillow. She passed out within minutes. Ever driven twenty five miles through city traffic with only your left hand...
Enough. I won't go into detail about Sweet Wife's return home and how she wrangled me into Christmas shopping yesterday....needless to say we punched a hole in our list. And, spent far more cash than we should have. Grandchildren you know.
Stephen
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