tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5327754525575080292024-03-18T20:03:46.834-07:00Now That I'm Living In "Bethany Home"All you ever wanted to know about the things that go on in the minds of those whom are old enough to qualify for Senior Housing and are brave enough to ask "Is there a Senior Discount?"P-Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13148217708832668431noreply@blogger.comBlogger61125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-532775452557508029.post-54720382523987939072009-10-03T10:10:00.000-07:002009-10-03T10:24:17.655-07:00The Leave it to Beaver TV Show<span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Someone asked me who those people were in the previous post....well, do you remember the Leave It To Beaver ????<br /><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJwEAjxHAHf9bcnsEszg-E_tL14w8WVThFzoe_fRKClcKncPYhg6VlrFRbrvR4BAmkyG_G-BlgHcgMNYGNct7xvBz9Sapl_xbhU2CmPuL0ug76qahgg0DspSIInqGdu31f3J8EoXnaPZsh/s1600-h/jerry.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 348px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJwEAjxHAHf9bcnsEszg-E_tL14w8WVThFzoe_fRKClcKncPYhg6VlrFRbrvR4BAmkyG_G-BlgHcgMNYGNct7xvBz9Sapl_xbhU2CmPuL0ug76qahgg0DspSIInqGdu31f3J8EoXnaPZsh/s400/jerry.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388423894496618834" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Jerry Mathers as the Beav...</span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjceA6vt3ZwUDnwsiQDF9jXkB74EBqH7o0EIn2NtumQjP8xRiWzHos5e9nElHXp6SdXfSoIm0TuHM5Q2BNzXJWRa6v9Lpv-eUVVVOsO56xwbzOxQng6jFp9gw32agCd3GxsGseLGHja0gu8/s1600-h/tonydow.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 131px; height: 98px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjceA6vt3ZwUDnwsiQDF9jXkB74EBqH7o0EIn2NtumQjP8xRiWzHos5e9nElHXp6SdXfSoIm0TuHM5Q2BNzXJWRa6v9Lpv-eUVVVOsO56xwbzOxQng6jFp9gw32agCd3GxsGseLGHja0gu8/s400/tonydow.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388422597114176610" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Tony Dow as Wally</span></span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilNNUyJIJav2kClTJis3NAJVcNULmrafm9MpdbQ0Zu1_EYI8jf5UKYGE1NGbbMye_YrBHFNJgL9mcu2qY7_5o9waN_Ba9RHifJLB5LwPFeexHa7MiuJk68IzwJMf4ki9ztQ6y1gBUtg9fi/s1600-h/1998beavercast.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 284px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilNNUyJIJav2kClTJis3NAJVcNULmrafm9MpdbQ0Zu1_EYI8jf5UKYGE1NGbbMye_YrBHFNJgL9mcu2qY7_5o9waN_Ba9RHifJLB5LwPFeexHa7MiuJk68IzwJMf4ki9ztQ6y1gBUtg9fi/s400/1998beavercast.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388422592207226322" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">The full cast of boys, grown up.....</span></span>P-Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13148217708832668431noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-532775452557508029.post-19247670345971798952009-09-05T08:35:00.000-07:002009-09-05T08:38:28.495-07:00NO !!! Say it isn't so...<span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I woke up feeling great this morning then someone sent me this........... has to be a doctored picture. They couldn't possibly be that old because I'm only...............hmmmm</span></span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnCtwDajTJTJ5Gmpe5XsEaCUOalZS_4pppqCym94VTeeP5fz5kLYBBqGux3fjZZvNJ9bMxwxFf9sYPvz3GGUd22EfcYOibo0Xvg7E0IQxCKOqJVB2EElObTndUfCqcFgZ19cIa02yCav1v/s1600-h/theBev.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 384px; height: 288px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnCtwDajTJTJ5Gmpe5XsEaCUOalZS_4pppqCym94VTeeP5fz5kLYBBqGux3fjZZvNJ9bMxwxFf9sYPvz3GGUd22EfcYOibo0Xvg7E0IQxCKOqJVB2EElObTndUfCqcFgZ19cIa02yCav1v/s400/theBev.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378007560169158418" border="0" /></a>P-Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13148217708832668431noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-532775452557508029.post-23955733242691106772009-08-24T08:42:00.000-07:002009-08-24T08:44:07.990-07:00Does anyone know where these are sold?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEgS3Y6LcYveKVqFObpAbTy8WpiHxr2Qzy6nOKMOsl1Q_aFaMnD-HfNO-BEB2w9eeAzvEeMf4_mGZt3_5-F4bTlG6oAe0yaCsh5KvwmOBvyojd6U-WkLMly1cQvkh0_r7pj4cpflKwrrN0/s1600-h/needthismirror.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEgS3Y6LcYveKVqFObpAbTy8WpiHxr2Qzy6nOKMOsl1Q_aFaMnD-HfNO-BEB2w9eeAzvEeMf4_mGZt3_5-F4bTlG6oAe0yaCsh5KvwmOBvyojd6U-WkLMly1cQvkh0_r7pj4cpflKwrrN0/s400/needthismirror.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373556463608544226" border="0" /></a>P-Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13148217708832668431noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-532775452557508029.post-85080929986043581682009-08-01T16:03:00.000-07:002009-08-01T17:27:36.664-07:00There is a moral to this story.....read on.<span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">What a wonderful Summer Time event. Jeff, Suzy, Laney, and Cameron Kyle swung into my place on their was to Southern California for their "first ever, Big Road Trip Vacation". I was so excited when they called and said they were about 30 minutes away and they had driven it in 13 hours. Jeff Kyle "You are THE MAN". But more about that in a few minutes.<br />We hugged and hugged, I almost fell over when I saw how much Laney had grown since the last time I saw her. I pinched Cameron's cheeks, which I must say, nearly embarrassed him to death because he barely remembered me.<br /><span style="font-size:85%;">(Jeff, please note I got your business number in the photo. So folks, for all your insurance and financial planning needs, call Jeff)</span><br /></span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4cOxriXRwikj83nv0rpCPW6t5R_3dB16jWqX2D2bnfQ9tMfLO7a6SCaoDd5UiNxpbX9NN9OCFcxn51MuW6oITOrh7y7EHGpzSbRs5zP1Ra3rcEDTbybik7pOs2JNtJKjtPfUrxud_-CWn/s1600-h/DSCN0088.JPG"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span></span><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4cOxriXRwikj83nv0rpCPW6t5R_3dB16jWqX2D2bnfQ9tMfLO7a6SCaoDd5UiNxpbX9NN9OCFcxn51MuW6oITOrh7y7EHGpzSbRs5zP1Ra3rcEDTbybik7pOs2JNtJKjtPfUrxud_-CWn/s400/DSCN0088.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365142091688315026" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Next morning we headed for Marin County to see Mark and his family. We have all known each other for years but because of distance we haven't visited much in recent years.What a great visit we had. Laney rode with me and we chatted like crazy.</span></span><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguPgvMGTkC97kLWQDJgmrG0LzSZSD0cWuIoxuElizwixU1FqNODwwmR3YDGtkl9P0n_5l_IFPwP-LFuVA7LGepjQiKnHopQpXjdWK3YAE8doeS_pEvIT2Tqt-ZmQ4r_Jn-J4dMQRTu2ZoS/s1600-h/TobinKadinCameron.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguPgvMGTkC97kLWQDJgmrG0LzSZSD0cWuIoxuElizwixU1FqNODwwmR3YDGtkl9P0n_5l_IFPwP-LFuVA7LGepjQiKnHopQpXjdWK3YAE8doeS_pEvIT2Tqt-ZmQ4r_Jn-J4dMQRTu2ZoS/s400/TobinKadinCameron.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365141738205475666" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family: verdana;">The little boys bonded and played...................</span></span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxVWzIVp13IlTxMCr_9XVduoihYlRzaGzN-YDVkmNTWeDLSFgLs6j3jkhfd-X1XyuN1r5xpsyQsmiyKxlTPUC8Mtf-ZsJqxdgDml8xMXHzxi_2OxzeIp5MebW3B6I5VPMi8it-BPcu1rVp/s1600-h/DSCN0092.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxVWzIVp13IlTxMCr_9XVduoihYlRzaGzN-YDVkmNTWeDLSFgLs6j3jkhfd-X1XyuN1r5xpsyQsmiyKxlTPUC8Mtf-ZsJqxdgDml8xMXHzxi_2OxzeIp5MebW3B6I5VPMi8it-BPcu1rVp/s400/DSCN0092.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365141576820374914" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">And the big boys bonded and played................<br /><br />When all of a sudden there was screaming from the back yard...."HELP!!, there's a SPIDER in the play car.....HELP!!! I think it's a black widow SPIDER....HELP US!!!!" The kids were freaking out.<br /><br /><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggn7o1pQrVjPU2ge8gzosl4mykPckEx2c6Q2mTotq-XiFp3z6cl1XkyHy9s1SIoHsEDqtwMhN9jvaGH56vpvufIdgPPHJfNhBDs8mGXZRKQdxffXJTCwtGc9ltkOT5ydr8Au4EZuAsWu2F/s1600-h/DSCN0097.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggn7o1pQrVjPU2ge8gzosl4mykPckEx2c6Q2mTotq-XiFp3z6cl1XkyHy9s1SIoHsEDqtwMhN9jvaGH56vpvufIdgPPHJfNhBDs8mGXZRKQdxffXJTCwtGc9ltkOT5ydr8Au4EZuAsWu2F/s400/DSCN0097.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365141252235195762" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Dianna hollers at Mark....."eewwww...will you go and see? I hate spiders and you are the Dad." But alas, Mark was busy cooking breakfast.<br /><br /><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_f92X91FdVBdvuycTZ70MFlayq4eameOSCxJEqqCwQja8eJQEkJ0rNWwpzVuNdgSZslAOML5EZXAXkFy-aizCGECLTWjODCkoAWYPVbJ1vtqXNbTTt_YczLzt-VobMdQWEZ0cfWcIcnh1/s1600-h/DSCN0103.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_f92X91FdVBdvuycTZ70MFlayq4eameOSCxJEqqCwQja8eJQEkJ0rNWwpzVuNdgSZslAOML5EZXAXkFy-aizCGECLTWjODCkoAWYPVbJ1vtqXNbTTt_YczLzt-VobMdQWEZ0cfWcIcnh1/s400/DSCN0103.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365140682651422898" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Jeff hollers from the living room, "I am 'the manly man' and I will go and see". He runs out back to the yard, singing the Mighty Mouse song, "Here I come to save the day"....<br />"QUICK! Somebody get me a jar! I want to save it and look at it", he yells into the house from the back yard. After a tense struggle with various instruments, he yells, "CAPTURED!!!!! Victory is mine!!! It is MY kill."<br />(<span style="font-size:85%;">Personally I thought those phrases were saved for shooting big game in Africa, but whatever</span>)<br /></span></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Let's look at it and see if it really is a black widow..........</span></span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJkXJfyh5aWel0N3k-B7qe6uAo1mLHDDVFNQDbmI00YfH3nHCg8t-giLczKVxXa3ZrTfeyk6gFxoiBAmIr4JYp8RDy1l_4EOTyv8xRu1N7HxhVgxzRvKFJM6xH4itXB5K14HK-l7_g-8h_/s1600-h/DSCN0098.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJkXJfyh5aWel0N3k-B7qe6uAo1mLHDDVFNQDbmI00YfH3nHCg8t-giLczKVxXa3ZrTfeyk6gFxoiBAmIr4JYp8RDy1l_4EOTyv8xRu1N7HxhVgxzRvKFJM6xH4itXB5K14HK-l7_g-8h_/s400/DSCN0098.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365140073557503986" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">"Let me in, let me see," squeals Suzy.</span></span><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7D2pLP7KUP0jSDCeU-REOEwLzJ4-pH75ZzinAfhy-yh26RR4EgdfoIfzaVAHAkxz1Y0ertNZkpMHTOuIqnDP0hvxPjWYbmNKl5CNEw1QSbFz3f_X_hhU94NVLRHmW8VjfE_q52dRIrplH/s1600-h/DSCN0094.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7D2pLP7KUP0jSDCeU-REOEwLzJ4-pH75ZzinAfhy-yh26RR4EgdfoIfzaVAHAkxz1Y0ertNZkpMHTOuIqnDP0hvxPjWYbmNKl5CNEw1QSbFz3f_X_hhU94NVLRHmW8VjfE_q52dRIrplH/s400/DSCN0094.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365139765082992082" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">"Eeewwww. That really freaks me out," Jaylin snarled. "Sure, you are the hero now Jeff, and THAT spider is dead, but what about the spider's family that probably still lives in my back yard." "That really troubles me."</span><br /></span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeTs_BHA5PfEtGeOEJ3BoehxASNYyVgaRoiWZTDS-xHOdZX4xX5ImsSJTUcumB0iHMEcjnqi1qJiSi2NwTRXJ7GidVuoBBazLSC4PX2xqhvtSMXND5Vf5ndFjzRqxHOLvi01nGhiDYaz5S/s1600-h/DSCN0101.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeTs_BHA5PfEtGeOEJ3BoehxASNYyVgaRoiWZTDS-xHOdZX4xX5ImsSJTUcumB0iHMEcjnqi1qJiSi2NwTRXJ7GidVuoBBazLSC4PX2xqhvtSMXND5Vf5ndFjzRqxHOLvi01nGhiDYaz5S/s400/DSCN0101.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365139376010075986" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Jeff proudly displays the spider which he now refers to as "MY CAPTURE."</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">The parents announce, "Let's all go to the pool, and cool off and forget about all this spider business. We will have such a good time!!! Come on kids, get your suits and towels and let's get in the car. Hurry up!"</span></span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLAYCw4IF71khE19OtwkxJSM6N4AslT-H8OfpaNYr3SysO03XDv2UrRFF9p3Nnl69S88HAJCFIDZ5AqTwAI9IkBhgJdgI09Opv-LwIapOlpfi2ZE1pwGUGE8EJG963-LN1Gy78pYuptdsh/s1600-h/pool.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLAYCw4IF71khE19OtwkxJSM6N4AslT-H8OfpaNYr3SysO03XDv2UrRFF9p3Nnl69S88HAJCFIDZ5AqTwAI9IkBhgJdgI09Opv-LwIapOlpfi2ZE1pwGUGE8EJG963-LN1Gy78pYuptdsh/s400/pool.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365139052613435698" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">"Here we are having such a wonderful time with our friends." "See, we are<br />swimming and laughing and taking pictures and laying out in the sun." Well most of the family is, but notice on the right hand side of this photo... ...."Hmmmm, I may be little but don't try to cheer ME up Folks, cuz I know those darn spiders are probably waiting for me to come home again....."</span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy3YrMBuQ4ft6cqOYSVgOZ12tXFm_89oVl3uhNnJKpl3NZ1MSgHY2LqizGXbyypL_8rRPNwxDHxyBK2AsgrgAdyiNsGs2gNkaE2RD62LCKADeScEaXnSJiJO5j8aoUZQQex5m0T2IYH9zC/s1600-h/pool+1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy3YrMBuQ4ft6cqOYSVgOZ12tXFm_89oVl3uhNnJKpl3NZ1MSgHY2LqizGXbyypL_8rRPNwxDHxyBK2AsgrgAdyiNsGs2gNkaE2RD62LCKADeScEaXnSJiJO5j8aoUZQQex5m0T2IYH9zC/s400/pool+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365138898383417570" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">MORAL TO THIS STORY:</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">So there ARE spiders as well as fun when you are on vacation.</span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwiTf1VfS6Re61OY0W-PlBsazl13Si6XDqsfhOXdBYFpWg-0kydQZouEJsm1SyeNacEsdGhoeXx_J8yu4U7YSjPiKNxtCqksN0cxaSXf-4Nf24L7elGknk3Sw0WO0ll10ogzkczW9R2Nuz/s1600-h/spider.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwiTf1VfS6Re61OY0W-PlBsazl13Si6XDqsfhOXdBYFpWg-0kydQZouEJsm1SyeNacEsdGhoeXx_J8yu4U7YSjPiKNxtCqksN0cxaSXf-4Nf24L7elGknk3Sw0WO0ll10ogzkczW9R2Nuz/s400/spider.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365135206833926146" border="0" /></a>P-Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13148217708832668431noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-532775452557508029.post-71793653228964712972009-07-26T17:12:00.001-07:002009-07-26T17:23:29.297-07:00I WON! I WON! I WON!.....<span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I have never won anything in my life and I was just notified that I won a random drawing for a quilting book. It is the newest book called Hop To It by Edyta Sitar, a very popular speaker and quilt maker.<br />Below see some of her work and also the link to the blog where I commented and won. It pays to read blogs and comment. At least it did me.<br /></span></span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL5vKHMPmc0Rbzujyw1Ejlt2tud0-1EZWU-ngknFFMKpZ_Kiz_TiEeSw8ZwhUv3xXRWOOiHECelhZXdaZPxrq_x8BqjEQVq23KOuK6G0mUNYkWOWbpxj86ImejO2smH3JDfWSbpbYyXDik/s1600-h/44996104.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 283px; height: 340px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL5vKHMPmc0Rbzujyw1Ejlt2tud0-1EZWU-ngknFFMKpZ_Kiz_TiEeSw8ZwhUv3xXRWOOiHECelhZXdaZPxrq_x8BqjEQVq23KOuK6G0mUNYkWOWbpxj86ImejO2smH3JDfWSbpbYyXDik/s400/44996104.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362928090933137394" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAvR8GcO6nWuD88MBvl_eyaMZWj3Sy6Gby-NZXeQmfYuG-rozh6nf6fRG0_LOtTT6oj6SrbwX7_0ihaBdb2kWZ6lcu-21uLnc78cgh9_4tZjgBjsbh3dbJdTT2OpUBuJsUBUhG_5mcJ9xs/s1600-h/44996101.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 283px; height: 290px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAvR8GcO6nWuD88MBvl_eyaMZWj3Sy6Gby-NZXeQmfYuG-rozh6nf6fRG0_LOtTT6oj6SrbwX7_0ihaBdb2kWZ6lcu-21uLnc78cgh9_4tZjgBjsbh3dbJdTT2OpUBuJsUBUhG_5mcJ9xs/s400/44996101.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362928005029764146" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH1vPodg6OzZM7ZPKn1_sohrKpZD9VBwUM8URofZZcqyinZ8hZAQj2YA8iv3MpATkrYwvG0LccsoDvb_W7VjC3wRS7iN880zBIMyLDrXxjpkasaRD1sao_476ohp-hvCwH2MKmW2lXCQ9B/s1600-h/44996102.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 283px; height: 287px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH1vPodg6OzZM7ZPKn1_sohrKpZD9VBwUM8URofZZcqyinZ8hZAQj2YA8iv3MpATkrYwvG0LccsoDvb_W7VjC3wRS7iN880zBIMyLDrXxjpkasaRD1sao_476ohp-hvCwH2MKmW2lXCQ9B/s400/44996102.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362927879122312578" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="http://www.quiltmaker.com/blogs/quiltypleasures/2009/07/13/hop-to-it/">http://www.quiltmaker.com/blogs/quiltypleasures/2009/07/13/hop-to-it/</a>P-Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13148217708832668431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-532775452557508029.post-32105944489785269552009-07-10T09:28:00.001-07:002009-07-10T09:34:53.447-07:00Soooo, you think you're too old and can't exercise<span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I guess it's never too late to start.....</span><br /><br /><a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi6mG67ztjcAASjZ4As__zGTuSEuCkCs7f7mgHZ7PzHS3MwxEzKMOpLWep9gZuGYDXN2DFb7eg9c879OcHxC-XEuSUVPfRvZ7zEXwb2DjEr785FtI-mQKBRd1jSR6aGwNemtrnJxD9JmST/s1600-h/100_year_old_man.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 310px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi6mG67ztjcAASjZ4As__zGTuSEuCkCs7f7mgHZ7PzHS3MwxEzKMOpLWep9gZuGYDXN2DFb7eg9c879OcHxC-XEuSUVPfRvZ7zEXwb2DjEr785FtI-mQKBRd1jSR6aGwNemtrnJxD9JmST/s400/100_year_old_man.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356869794989781522" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Check out this little sweetie....he's adorable.</span><br /><a style="font-family: verdana;" href="http://inspirationmanifestation.com/206/100-year-old-amazing-tennis-player.php">http://inspirationmanifestation.com/206/100-year-old-amazing-tennis-player.php</a><br /><a style="font-family: verdana;" href="http://inspirationmanifestation.com"></a></span>P-Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13148217708832668431noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-532775452557508029.post-67632351786496398252009-06-28T06:45:00.000-07:002009-06-28T07:18:15.997-07:00A good way to spend a Friday afternoon....<span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">The phone rang around 11:00 and it was Dianna, my daughter-in-law, and she was on her way to Santa Rosa with her mother, Irene, and her oldest son, Tobin. They wanted to know if I would like to join them on a little trip to</span><span style="text-decoration: underline;"></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"> Healdsburg to pick up some wine for a friend of theirs.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><a href="http://www.armida.com">Armida</a> is snuggled away at the edge of Healdsburg and some of the initial directions even confused Irene's GPS system. We drove up and up a winding road to the top of a hill and there it was. Beautiful!!! I took this picture from the deck where we sat and ate the lunch that Dianna had packed and surprised us with..........</span><br /><br /><a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVGoNCjIEYUTf5Eq1Ra5L818spjbdM7HZi0tkpGSYzdelyi8IGUFRqgbdecwj-w0BUFxqvgHp4IyC2EpWNWnXa5qg-zwtD_b1RtnAfHJKtoooxuWT_h7DsrXgx5VoSKRsQGe3FiwemIF0S/s1600-h/DiannaVineyardE.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 324px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVGoNCjIEYUTf5Eq1Ra5L818spjbdM7HZi0tkpGSYzdelyi8IGUFRqgbdecwj-w0BUFxqvgHp4IyC2EpWNWnXa5qg-zwtD_b1RtnAfHJKtoooxuWT_h7DsrXgx5VoSKRsQGe3FiwemIF0S/s400/DiannaVineyardE.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352377558050435330" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">It is a given with this family, outing = camera........</span><br /><br /><a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyhJWSRA6xBAhr-U9DEQ2EYfYjMwfaHNAqCzO8MLz0n3xG4VdjG6OAYAffuuXkZcQRZKEZ1pyuV1LJbFCpXbjgJ6zLWeD7yI7YBLSyVX0otdhpwbHplCrMqUpc78qZ-hWmuACo9vftWd4M/s1600-h/DiannaCameraD.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 231px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyhJWSRA6xBAhr-U9DEQ2EYfYjMwfaHNAqCzO8MLz0n3xG4VdjG6OAYAffuuXkZcQRZKEZ1pyuV1LJbFCpXbjgJ6zLWeD7yI7YBLSyVX0otdhpwbHplCrMqUpc78qZ-hWmuACo9vftWd4M/s400/DiannaCameraD.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352377245471213042" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">See what I mean........</span><br /><br /><br /><a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpwvfNyzP9PF6qAr08e4d04fFK5ok8bVZF5aRh40cyMbII5gll9tGY1hHiBymhmtlk23AWB07yc83-slxRFmCmaZJazeb3xZtcK8rPC5XY9WyQH1TshF0ujLCV_gEGfjbJWKG_7BnCyTGz/s1600-h/DiannaIreneC.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 223px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpwvfNyzP9PF6qAr08e4d04fFK5ok8bVZF5aRh40cyMbII5gll9tGY1hHiBymhmtlk23AWB07yc83-slxRFmCmaZJazeb3xZtcK8rPC5XY9WyQH1TshF0ujLCV_gEGfjbJWKG_7BnCyTGz/s400/DiannaIreneC.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352377020670574370" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Amazing how green and beautiful it is since this is such a warm climate....</span><br /><br /><a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV9vUwbEiXT5vPVGLh3L8o2bbhkeGioZfS6RF34kTKW9hckcxlTZ7cJ7FtxGZmbd2MgPCVE34A9ZaUYSQSfxmo0vzGLyk3Zou6NCrkHlcuoSfbw99reaB67Cz9qqdq9u5muHU5-rso-_BB/s1600-h/DiannaTobinB.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 366px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV9vUwbEiXT5vPVGLh3L8o2bbhkeGioZfS6RF34kTKW9hckcxlTZ7cJ7FtxGZmbd2MgPCVE34A9ZaUYSQSfxmo0vzGLyk3Zou6NCrkHlcuoSfbw99reaB67Cz9qqdq9u5muHU5-rso-_BB/s400/DiannaTobinB.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352376808219665186" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">As Dianna stalks another victim to shoot.....with the camera....</span><br /><br /><a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK3a6cP093hNbbdf0eEGY2lZYeoBiI2ll2TKje-2N_ZoycXhh3pj_Yn2aQxdg5Zujums57OlYe0ZYzX86vOv7T6V_0FgKof0dBgn8X3NDNXyD6hyphenhyphenVa2O-p6kSK2iTifsS1f3IMuVF1gPCq/s1600-h/DiannaA.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 262px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK3a6cP093hNbbdf0eEGY2lZYeoBiI2ll2TKje-2N_ZoycXhh3pj_Yn2aQxdg5Zujums57OlYe0ZYzX86vOv7T6V_0FgKof0dBgn8X3NDNXyD6hyphenhyphenVa2O-p6kSK2iTifsS1f3IMuVF1gPCq/s400/DiannaA.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352376487389090610" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Checking out the pictures taken.......see, it's all about the pictures!!!!</span><br /><br /><a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI62pomzCJjqx1cDk3lWAItHz3VD1Met8lDmpC6rIxWmhJFvNrme3tFo4jDXz8OQpKCes5RQdCtBOQ9ubQr8nL5uMlisOa0nJgkDbfUucaO6plSkClfw_8XbPcvdcZ4xjYxeZu09-unPt6/s1600-h/DSCN0037.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI62pomzCJjqx1cDk3lWAItHz3VD1Met8lDmpC6rIxWmhJFvNrme3tFo4jDXz8OQpKCes5RQdCtBOQ9ubQr8nL5uMlisOa0nJgkDbfUucaO6plSkClfw_8XbPcvdcZ4xjYxeZu09-unPt6/s400/DSCN0037.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352374926694066418" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Ahhhhh......our ride is here and it's time to go. What a lovely little surprise for me.</span><br /><br /><a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc5tbK5fx3Y48rlX2sbmo3CMt0FgU7oZK7qiz18DzREIM2BCcbYIr0HCaTNPE8qmGtq4Swqgvu992kWXXVgMK4gDroC7l5TEEBYM6tFsOQ-GSv1hip8pucmbpXo0LtIhO0TvOkQIItWHBe/s1600-h/DSCN0036.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc5tbK5fx3Y48rlX2sbmo3CMt0FgU7oZK7qiz18DzREIM2BCcbYIr0HCaTNPE8qmGtq4Swqgvu992kWXXVgMK4gDroC7l5TEEBYM6tFsOQ-GSv1hip8pucmbpXo0LtIhO0TvOkQIItWHBe/s400/DSCN0036.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352374616886337106" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">NO ! ! !......not our ride, but that's how they do it around here. You join a Wine Country Tour and go from winery to winery in style, letting someone else drive.</span><br /></span>P-Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13148217708832668431noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-532775452557508029.post-20904991881528643602009-06-18T10:45:00.000-07:002009-06-18T10:48:13.244-07:001953<span style="font-size:130%;"><a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivTgAz7fD4HeLSxKfCp9DrJnZgK7Y5xEu7zjp2qNPed7VyXGRpj5jtLhGrY6eJ_Lg5QeTBJ4Zd5S_XoryUiyFzsqCPegD3rq0EwFxsWYMthYe2LOFCWKYJh-hpPPEPaY84XdpuIfvQOmd3/s1600-h/50's.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 311px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivTgAz7fD4HeLSxKfCp9DrJnZgK7Y5xEu7zjp2qNPed7VyXGRpj5jtLhGrY6eJ_Lg5QeTBJ4Zd5S_XoryUiyFzsqCPegD3rq0EwFxsWYMthYe2LOFCWKYJh-hpPPEPaY84XdpuIfvQOmd3/s400/50's.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348725307747603154" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family: verdana;"> Were you a kid in the Fifties or earlier? Everybody makes fun of our childhood! Comedians joke. Grandkids snicker. Twenty-somethings shudder and say "Eeeew!" But was our childhood really all that bad?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Judge for yourself:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">In 1953:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">The US population was less than 150 million ... Yet you knew more people then, and knew them better ...And that was good.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">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.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">A loaf of bread cost about 15 cents ... But it was safe for a five-year-old to skate to the store and buy one ...And that was good.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Prime-time meant I Love Lucy, Ozzie and Harriett, and Lassie ... So nobody'd ever heard of ratings or filters ... And that was good.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">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.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Your teacher was either Miss Matthews or Mrs. Logan or Mr. Adkins...But not Ms Becky or Mr. Dan ... And that was good.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">The only hazardous material you knew about ... Was a patch of grassburrs around the light pole at the corner ... And that was good.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Most families needed only one job ... Meaning Mom was home when school let out ...And that was good.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">You loved to climb into a fresh bed ... Because sheets were dried on the clothesline ...And that was good.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">People generally lived in the same hometown with their relatives ...So "child care" meant grandparents or aunts and uncles ...And that was good.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">TV was in black-and-white, if you had TV at all ... But all outdoors was in glorious color... And that was certainly good.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">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.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Your grandma grew snap beans in the back yard ... And chickens behind the garage ... And that was definitely good.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">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 even that was good.</span><br /><br /><br /></span>P-Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13148217708832668431noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-532775452557508029.post-84678701606353176142009-06-11T12:19:00.000-07:002009-06-11T12:25:05.065-07:00Through the Knothole<span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">What could have possibly been behind that fence that could have sent all those mature women, scrambling, climbing, lifting someone up, risking injury, possibly breaking the law.....................</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Here it is.........a house!!! Was it a celebrities house? No.....just a house.<br />Albeit a nice house......it's just a house. Girls, we need to get a life again.<br /></span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw7tj093SRm_aMm-GlUOlhbFdBrtfNKmygLICu4xyJczNMkeEWxw-0TBcnJqO3oCWfWTRSZaGXux58fYYyCaQDMtX4NTggeLyiCsQ40AhRMwI4C64BwzJWMaj2jylB3bfrHQ25T7g8VQgE/s1600-h/beyondthefence.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw7tj093SRm_aMm-GlUOlhbFdBrtfNKmygLICu4xyJczNMkeEWxw-0TBcnJqO3oCWfWTRSZaGXux58fYYyCaQDMtX4NTggeLyiCsQ40AhRMwI4C64BwzJWMaj2jylB3bfrHQ25T7g8VQgE/s400/beyondthefence.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346151936596096674" border="0" /></a>P-Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13148217708832668431noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-532775452557508029.post-61891023200102089942009-06-03T10:04:00.001-07:002009-06-03T10:39:05.767-07:00The Caper<span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Isn't this a beautiful scene! How picturesque! It was taken by a friend who has joined up with the notorious "Biddys" of Washington State. She is not old enough to be a true biddy but she is a "Biddy Buddy" and we all love her. She takes beautiful pictures........the scene is the Pacific Ocean in all it's glory. The occasion, a week long outing with some of the Biddy's and some "Biddy Buddys".</span><br /><br /><a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3hzBNBAHbyeragJ3g2wi9pvhIQZFdEqytRk5LFwD7czE4Igas0YSeXBTwXLcEbhU8K3TQ17viaR9JVlblPgSBLiiqlS_ZhVfF2l3EG00i18TYw99nZnP-BK0srzXrFnjFRHlCcnB7glun/s1600-h/thebeach.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 254px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3hzBNBAHbyeragJ3g2wi9pvhIQZFdEqytRk5LFwD7czE4Igas0YSeXBTwXLcEbhU8K3TQ17viaR9JVlblPgSBLiiqlS_ZhVfF2l3EG00i18TYw99nZnP-BK0srzXrFnjFRHlCcnB7glun/s400/thebeach.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343150935017691186" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Isn't this a lovely picture of a group of mature women, walking the beach, enjoying the camaraderie, the smells, the sand, the sun, the spiritual friendships, God's glory..........</span><br /><a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7_7lwqMEA0a2EvP0MyZYc3Fx_55750kMj5MGJQj_tqLtWGpHeQZCYWkn9zkLLWiR2bPki2BybvUz7Z9REcxVoETNV_0aOZGYVrYXY0cTHi_vRLyqDPAoKJmKC6w991mnFvNtUa-LXvkop/s1600-h/threeinocentoldladies.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7_7lwqMEA0a2EvP0MyZYc3Fx_55750kMj5MGJQj_tqLtWGpHeQZCYWkn9zkLLWiR2bPki2BybvUz7Z9REcxVoETNV_0aOZGYVrYXY0cTHi_vRLyqDPAoKJmKC6w991mnFvNtUa-LXvkop/s400/threeinocentoldladies.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343150806976546690" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">"Oh Look! What have we here? Is that property that adjoins the beach? Let's go up and see who lives there.....come on you guys, up here.......follow us."</span><br /><a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFwHt3jCiPhJ__5iUWr9ofzAj-O1kFcuBae3cp_YhO_8aB0hzq18MqTykO7Hdbpj-0P8MpablCDWpqpj3vf5IdIsHdib5LLLZTbWR8062tkUiZX6CIpGZUdBajygWfGwkn3w7IljsiQgQz/s1600-h/thefield.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 201px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFwHt3jCiPhJ__5iUWr9ofzAj-O1kFcuBae3cp_YhO_8aB0hzq18MqTykO7Hdbpj-0P8MpablCDWpqpj3vf5IdIsHdib5LLLZTbWR8062tkUiZX6CIpGZUdBajygWfGwkn3w7IljsiQgQz/s400/thefield.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343150629613853250" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">"Wow, this place is awesome! Look at the beautiful house and look at the beautiful landscaping. </span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">I know we can't get in but let's just peek through the knot holes and cracks in the fence."</span><br /><a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDg1asf4lnu1xhqYt2NyMbNDC157aey7Amf-VZ3CTUChd3DlPgfD0GmwulXh-vy_fLs7PesFZw7xp-D1Rw30UhtAzDBi3_KUqXIia_qkYgpVk0XDn-ZwnJFRKhf_cbsogHDXhMoOQ6kWqq/s1600-h/lineup.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDg1asf4lnu1xhqYt2NyMbNDC157aey7Amf-VZ3CTUChd3DlPgfD0GmwulXh-vy_fLs7PesFZw7xp-D1Rw30UhtAzDBi3_KUqXIia_qkYgpVk0XDn-ZwnJFRKhf_cbsogHDXhMoOQ6kWqq/s400/lineup.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343149017217231346" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Farkle Face says, "You guys, I really want to see in there, isn't there some way to get in or at least get a better look?" Someone else replies, "No, we are too old and mature to break into someone's yard.......aren't we?"</span><br /><a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlJo0yfKinY4OtNH-NdYOvXfkL-X2IeVzyn-7ENv9ximG6pAQ_fJwi4ry9qVDprQDqeIXaRZQdHlv0yxX1wfc3s9Y_e3j6ao2cEbt2GydWWaFaIrgdzK1Prlz0ke1XyybjfqizR8O9BeTR/s1600-h/jffsneaks+in.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlJo0yfKinY4OtNH-NdYOvXfkL-X2IeVzyn-7ENv9ximG6pAQ_fJwi4ry9qVDprQDqeIXaRZQdHlv0yxX1wfc3s9Y_e3j6ao2cEbt2GydWWaFaIrgdzK1Prlz0ke1XyybjfqizR8O9BeTR/s400/jffsneaks+in.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343148853216644354" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Well, guess not because obviously this Senior Citizen, with a little from her friends, scaled a wall, and.......</span><br /><a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNDsg5pdbNJe4-aUSDZOLN7WuwFkJCe6XeVRJkDd4j-ktKXn6X9UBhp-Kq8sah7UFRLvbGXd-D6Chp1G7W8ZPDl3c2R6026kd2dBc_MipDh2nzGQy8DR87zIoMT6qhz7WxL1rMgQjsk9my/s1600-h/kathylooks+in.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNDsg5pdbNJe4-aUSDZOLN7WuwFkJCe6XeVRJkDd4j-ktKXn6X9UBhp-Kq8sah7UFRLvbGXd-D6Chp1G7W8ZPDl3c2R6026kd2dBc_MipDh2nzGQy8DR87zIoMT6qhz7WxL1rMgQjsk9my/s400/kathylooks+in.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343148708097328690" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">reached inside and unlocked the gate.......</span><br /><a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj68KblkI-_FK6gpabVlTwcYTrv_1EUTV_qdymOz8Xkp3czpCnN4KzfnxSRsceqvqYgfaeqsefbS7BGnFOSTM4-Xt1W-0Lkjiwx0y7JBK0OEO7Neps_XjBnz30GVpIrJ4n84b06eja2SBo8/s1600-h/success.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj68KblkI-_FK6gpabVlTwcYTrv_1EUTV_qdymOz8Xkp3czpCnN4KzfnxSRsceqvqYgfaeqsefbS7BGnFOSTM4-Xt1W-0Lkjiwx0y7JBK0OEO7Neps_XjBnz30GVpIrJ4n84b06eja2SBo8/s400/success.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343148559223914194" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Don't believe me......see below!!!</span><br /><a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSDgrXM9ZfZbwpK9ZOT-2q7P1XS2xFNyGcxRaQ7wxxl2ojFzDuYD9yIERlcBd1iYaY-SHz7QFPrHRME9lsJSjA3TWB1Ai8Fl0OK9vbbWzHqFqGmSYjvBxmA2Zu6trOSfoRwkC9jwBVECYa/s1600-h/kpismyhero.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSDgrXM9ZfZbwpK9ZOT-2q7P1XS2xFNyGcxRaQ7wxxl2ojFzDuYD9yIERlcBd1iYaY-SHz7QFPrHRME9lsJSjA3TWB1Ai8Fl0OK9vbbWzHqFqGmSYjvBxmA2Zu6trOSfoRwkC9jwBVECYa/s400/kpismyhero.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343148411694093586" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">And the really funny thing is the fact that these women are all in their late 60's and have been pulling these sort of shenanigans for most of their lives and now we have the pictures to prove it. Thanks Cbev for providing me with so much laughter.....I truly felt like I was there.</span><br /></span>P-Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13148217708832668431noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-532775452557508029.post-71373578790318003402009-05-25T18:31:00.000-07:002009-06-01T16:44:24.832-07:00Celebrating My Girlfriends...."the Biddys"<span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">I really love my friends. Since I had such a small family, my girlfriends have always been my "family". I have spent as many holidays at their houses or their family's houses as I ever did my own growing up.<br />You can't pick your siblings but you CAN pick your girlfriends and I have done a wonderful job of that. (not good at picking a mate but really good at picking my "Pals")<br />This isn't a picture of us. It could be if we had known each other when we were this age.<br /></span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaTKncvPSbnhU0jlG62OTcaBG-2NEztlZCDMRzmYaxPjdPGfkaIbPmgiYP0RBsdxQdeBQDQvMVMtrrbLPXI10HqFVIyE771mZi4LZVdxMllj32_wb9qKUnFUx1BiFZlpCmGHCp2md0lPYN/s1600-h/littlegirls.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 262px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaTKncvPSbnhU0jlG62OTcaBG-2NEztlZCDMRzmYaxPjdPGfkaIbPmgiYP0RBsdxQdeBQDQvMVMtrrbLPXI10HqFVIyE771mZi4LZVdxMllj32_wb9qKUnFUx1BiFZlpCmGHCp2md0lPYN/s400/littlegirls.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342413323822229250" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br />We are all about the same age, give or take a few years, but other than that, the differences start......High brow, low brow, and everything in between. Fancy tastes, home-style tastes, in the middle tastes and in some cases, no taste at all. But we won't go there as this is a tribute not a roast. NO, this isn't a picture of when we were younger. Trust me, we never looked like this!!!!!</span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6FXoAQeoVsHf8t83j1jsWGyKukFFr3CyblpQoEGIsnSHwDGpjkEZvldRx-Zmfx8AdTkl5Iw-D0edXsgUJeqUBUISApUafcIXHQYQvH61pFj72isCywZ23VrxsXXChbYm9wy7yuPtsL7NG/s1600-h/oldergirls.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6FXoAQeoVsHf8t83j1jsWGyKukFFr3CyblpQoEGIsnSHwDGpjkEZvldRx-Zmfx8AdTkl5Iw-D0edXsgUJeqUBUISApUafcIXHQYQvH61pFj72isCywZ23VrxsXXChbYm9wy7yuPtsL7NG/s400/oldergirls.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342413191625146962" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">We have been through love affairs, broken hearts, broken parts, divorces, loss of parents, the loss of a child, diets, diseases like Cancer, that are really scary and others that are just pesky. We have shared with each other, gotten angry with each other, cried with each other, prayed with each other but most of all we have laughed and laughed and laughed. Pulled jokes, pranks, and some down right dirty tricks stealing treasures from each other. We have baby sat for each others kids, animals, relatives, including the newest generation, the grand kids. We have ridden together in hot cars, old trucks, RV's , on motorbikes, buses, airplanes, and on horses side by side.<br />Now here is a more believable picture. Ha ha haaa!! </span></span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs1ZM5QyGX68bcqiSHhBgM6OC6sExavfAusiNW9aFD93PQcmGP4M0pYWR-69B3i2X3_OvHvu1T4u33TwiCS36JkOP77NbRk9jGS3X8vbxYxA-0gyUssAZ5vn4NQc9KE-Mh0nJZcLffPTZ0/s1600-h/reallyoldgirls.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 189px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs1ZM5QyGX68bcqiSHhBgM6OC6sExavfAusiNW9aFD93PQcmGP4M0pYWR-69B3i2X3_OvHvu1T4u33TwiCS36JkOP77NbRk9jGS3X8vbxYxA-0gyUssAZ5vn4NQc9KE-Mh0nJZcLffPTZ0/s400/reallyoldgirls.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342413051840705282" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">We have secret sayings like "who's a pompus ass", and "the older we get the goofier we get" and there is always, "the men may come and the men may go but we've still got each other". When someone says it, we all crack up, much to the amazement of those who don't get it.<br />We had added new people over the years as we really are a loving group and if you can stand us then we guess we can stand you. But you gotta be able to laugh or be laughed at and to see the humor in the mundane. It's just part of being called a "Biddy".<br /><br />We have a new generation of Biddy's.....our daughter's and daughter-in-laws and hopefully they will carry on this wonderful tradition by being Itty Bitty Biddys or Biddy's in training. I know one, for sure cares this title proudly.<br /><br />Since I branched off and headed to California I have had the good fortune to find another wonderful group of friends here in Santa Rosa. The SR chapter of Biddys are a fine group of ladies who are loving, supportive, and also love to laugh.<br /><br />Here is to all of you, My Dears, and I hope and pray that the last time we see each other in this life will not be the last time we ever see each other.<br />Thanks for so many wonderful years and many, many more to come.<br /><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">'Good friends are like stars.........You don't always see them, but you know they are always there'</span></span>P-Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13148217708832668431noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-532775452557508029.post-69704520267354745382009-05-21T22:44:00.001-07:002009-05-27T08:34:03.103-07:00Small Town Parades (by Attebetty)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7k9dMrNYEBVa4TwNenYrkF-bvamqE69aG6tQ4D2alJIdoByfHR6rVAw3aqAt6BxrmIUbzUAKRYlfUCmXYRfCggCA3six1U6e1PIYRAF93eCiMMcULSib8dRT4jbwdkAPbFlD-OWSiVjFw/s1600-h/paradetractor.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7k9dMrNYEBVa4TwNenYrkF-bvamqE69aG6tQ4D2alJIdoByfHR6rVAw3aqAt6BxrmIUbzUAKRYlfUCmXYRfCggCA3six1U6e1PIYRAF93eCiMMcULSib8dRT4jbwdkAPbFlD-OWSiVjFw/s400/paradetractor.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338520349392620354" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Age is really relative.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"> </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">It's about 1981. A gorgeous Saturday in June. As was usual back then; I was spending the weekend at Kathy's place.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"> </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Kathy and I had a date to meet friends at noon and go riding (I think....) We got up early, fed the horses and decided to go to Duvall for breakfast.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"> </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">My new son-in-law Russel loved my hot, blue '73 Chevy short box, step-side, truck with deep dish mag rims and headers. I, in turn, loved his little bright yellow Triumph Spitfire sports car. We often, traded cars for the weekend.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"> </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Kathy and I had the Spitfire and the perfect weekend for it. We took the top off and headed to town.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"> </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">At that time, Duvall had only one block of secondary street on the west side of the street.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"> </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">We turned west off the main road and parked between the Restaurant and a Nursery. We had a leisurely, breakfast and then cruised the nursery.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"> </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">We spent enough time in the Nursery to forget which car we came in. I got a real deal on a 6 foot tall flowering cherry tree, in bloom and Kathy got an azalea.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"> </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">As we headed back to the car; we noticed there were a lot more cars parked on our back street. Then, we heard bands and engines tuning up. </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"> </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Kathy remembered it was the day for the Duvall Days Parade. It starts at the south end of town, goes down the main street and turns onto the bridge that goes west out of town.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"> </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">We had a good laugh when we spotted our car. We considered leaving the tree at the nursery but I found space for the root ball behind and between, the seats. We settled the tree in. It looked quite pretty sticking about 3 feet above the seat with pretty pink blossoms hanging over our heads. Kathy had the azalea on her lap. We started up to the street to find the parade was going down the main drag and we were stuck on the side street! We were going to miss our company if we had to wait for the entire parade to go by!</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"> </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">As Kathy said about 7 years later, "Sheesh! The older we get, the Goofier we get". </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"> </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">I took a second to teach her how to wave like the Queen. (No hand flapping. Just a rigid, rotating, 'high sign'...). Told her to smile no matter what, found a gap and shot onto the street between a float and a band!</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"> </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">We were that little yellow 'float' decorated with hanging, pink blossoms, with two 'dignitaries' smiling and waving side-to-side to the crowd and one of them holding an azalea on her lap..</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"> </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">We were in the parade for about 4 blocks. As the parade turned onto the bridge, we went straight and sped out of town towards Kathy's. </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"> </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">We laughed all the way home and made it in time to go riding. </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"> </span></span>P-Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13148217708832668431noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-532775452557508029.post-78255287694296006232009-05-11T00:27:00.000-07:002009-05-11T00:50:49.568-07:00Ohhhh Yeah!!!!<span style="font-size:130%;"><a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJr_VhPP9yL1Bu5VXtANGog-S9fMu2ND_7Mv-BsJ6yPTC3envb_GTV8LsqsIMe4Ow7x3X9hZ8kE5UlxPv5nHwNmQlF3sht7ZGO-EW_yMf-JoANAeGpdFx1zUXTz4OQxKnPMsZFA_9zCSa7/s1600-h/suprise.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJr_VhPP9yL1Bu5VXtANGog-S9fMu2ND_7Mv-BsJ6yPTC3envb_GTV8LsqsIMe4Ow7x3X9hZ8kE5UlxPv5nHwNmQlF3sht7ZGO-EW_yMf-JoANAeGpdFx1zUXTz4OQxKnPMsZFA_9zCSa7/s400/suprise.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334464901332446514" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family: verdana;">From L to R, Trudy, Pdot, Joybelle, Horsey Gal, Ellen, Tanya, Farkle, Cherie, Attebetty </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Don't you just love a plan when it works!!!!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">My friend, Attebetty, with her superior intelligence, has always intimated that she can't be surprised. I picked up that gauntlet, so subtley thrown down, and was determined to surprise her for her Birthday. See, I live 618 air miles away from my Pals.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">On April 20th Attebetty turned 66. I tried to get there to surprise her on that day but it didn't work out. So we hatched up another plan. Horsey Gal hosted a Belated Birthday Party for Attebetty. And unbeknown to her, I had flown in. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Well, all the old friends gathered together for lunch over a week after her Birthday and some said they even mentioned the only thing missing was me. Little did they know I was getting closer and closer by car driven by my DIL, Tanya..</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">We arrived about an hour after all had gathered. We parked and I bent over to keep the top of my head out of sight. I opened the back door and as soon as I did, Horsey Gal started to walk towards the door then turned around and loudly said, " I feel like singing' and started singing Happy Birthday. I came in the door partially hidden by her and then she stepped aside as I got right in front of the VERY SURPRISED guest of honor seated at the dining room table. She just sat there staring at me for about 30 seconds until her brain could catch up with what was going on. She jumped up and started to cry and ran around the table to hug me. Gotcha!!!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">The sign in the front was a gift to her and we all wrote on the back.</span><br /><br /></span>P-Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13148217708832668431noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-532775452557508029.post-31750555874860312382009-04-16T23:22:00.000-07:002009-04-17T08:13:11.592-07:00Attebetty's Wild Ride OR How Did We Live Thru It? Part 1 (see below for 2 & 3)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQnapAIHHZovO5uJcIyFwg_Jbm8McmiZo29luagp7Wt4KViZD1AKhA4ppDIaJFcsW9J3NGFURgPjAbasXE0yFBChcMoMhiY2OL_GBoKB806dECDD9YnJXLGJRiw_hmExeDvsAWCoH3bEit/s1600-h/trailerpark.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 318px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQnapAIHHZovO5uJcIyFwg_Jbm8McmiZo29luagp7Wt4KViZD1AKhA4ppDIaJFcsW9J3NGFURgPjAbasXE0yFBChcMoMhiY2OL_GBoKB806dECDD9YnJXLGJRiw_hmExeDvsAWCoH3bEit/s400/trailerpark.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325542517874122194" border="0" /></a><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">I was 10 in August 1953. We lived in a trailer park in Marysville. It was Friday. </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;font-family:verdana;font-size:18;" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">My 'cousin' (not my cousin.....but how we know each other is too confusing for normal people to grasp....) had tricked out his old bike for me. It was a boy's bike. Probably close to 10 years old by this time. He was 7 years older than me. Big, fat tires. Wide fenders. Darryl had re-painted it <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">Ticonderoga</span> No. 2 Pencil yellow with a paint brush. He put on so many coats, you could see each brush stroke and the paint was 'spongy' when pushed on.</span></span></span><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGcFVMzTFZLqbI4-bWpj9xuvafGsquI33Af1iQw6D33pIkJBtzdftDgSYjtDYmw7tULUgE0mFSmarnqpRm74XkYXY_W0kniFZWPx3wjZ5Pb63M_pQ9YqepdTdTGy-CNx1531xzHZ1zonrJ/s1600-h/oldbike.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGcFVMzTFZLqbI4-bWpj9xuvafGsquI33Af1iQw6D33pIkJBtzdftDgSYjtDYmw7tULUgE0mFSmarnqpRm74XkYXY_W0kniFZWPx3wjZ5Pb63M_pQ9YqepdTdTGy-CNx1531xzHZ1zonrJ/s400/oldbike.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325542250320192306" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">My sister Vera had the cool, blue & white bike with narrower tires. And, it was a girl's bike. I always took it when we went somewhere without Vera. This day, she wanted to go with us. </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;font-family:verdana;font-size:18;" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Karen Kloster, Vera and I went up to the Quil Ceda golf course to steal pie cherries from the tree in front of the Restaurant/Pro Shop located about 300 yards up the steepest hill in the Marysville area. I was wearing a navy & white polka dot bathing suit with a little attached, flouncy skirt. I was skinny as a rail and had a afro long before they were 'in'. My curls were so tight, my Dad used to laugh and say the back of my head looked like a 'sheep's butt'. (Picture a dandelion.... skinny stalk, huge fluffy, top....) </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;font-family:verdana;font-size:18;" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">I was straddling my bike quickly, picking cherries and stuffing them down the front of my bathing suit, when a waitress stepped onto the porch of the restaurant and yelled, "You kids get out of here before I call the cops!!" We peeled out of the parking lot and took off down the hill. I was first. </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;font-family:verdana;font-size:18;" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">It was to be a quick ride down to the 'T' in the road at the bottom of the hill and a sharp right onto the road home. As I hurtled down the hill; my bike rattled alarmingly. Then the handle bars loosened up to the point where I couldn't steer. Then the chain flew off and hit me in the ankle as I flew off the bike, across the road, with the handlebars in my hand, and down about 10 feet towards an electric, barbed-wire, 3 strand fence! </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;font-family:verdana;font-size:18;" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">I hit all 3 strands full force, then slid down and sprang back off to the ground.</span></span></span><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzzxOdF3avRTIioDoIM8b_5ZEp2KwBMUUaeJqjhLPy5H0hrg0KJ_-6jX4XuFr2EL9do1AT1I35r3YHeHqqyTF6fQFms7P0i9GewpRbtKYlvPEi0DlPSxvwxFi4kPCBRvUmrRmhEfjNIk3i/s1600-h/barbwire.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 250px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzzxOdF3avRTIioDoIM8b_5ZEp2KwBMUUaeJqjhLPy5H0hrg0KJ_-6jX4XuFr2EL9do1AT1I35r3YHeHqqyTF6fQFms7P0i9GewpRbtKYlvPEi0DlPSxvwxFi4kPCBRvUmrRmhEfjNIk3i/s400/barbwire.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325541886799048210" border="0" /></a>P-Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13148217708832668431noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-532775452557508029.post-9956105211855777532009-04-16T23:14:00.000-07:002009-04-16T23:19:15.742-07:00How did we live through it? Part 2<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyZze65ol0qlXMUfjJUXxIgAlKwM9SEC959KjrsjTs5V8dggd4wthdFq3LcfTnOJ_yX6EQ0EIXYLmrWTo2ux854I9ShlBG3-sVElQ5rWOSJ1j3RyW6io2agoiKKWPjVnSM-GcPZWdRIJaa/s1600-h/1953ambulance.gif"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 235px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyZze65ol0qlXMUfjJUXxIgAlKwM9SEC959KjrsjTs5V8dggd4wthdFq3LcfTnOJ_yX6EQ0EIXYLmrWTo2ux854I9ShlBG3-sVElQ5rWOSJ1j3RyW6io2agoiKKWPjVnSM-GcPZWdRIJaa/s400/1953ambulance.gif" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325540206795926450" /></a><br /><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; white-space: pre-wrap; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> As I lay there, I became aware of my surroundings and heard a loud shrieking, noise above me. I stood up and looked down. My left leg had a 'chunk' missing about 3 inches below my knee. The missing part was about 3 inches high and wrapped around to my calf on both sides. It had chunks of dirt in it but no blood. Looked just like a piece of meat when you cut into it. </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; white-space: pre-wrap; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; white-space: pre-wrap; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">There was a lot of blood coming from 10-12 shallow cuts from hip to knee, on the upper thigh of the same leg. I didn't feel all that bad though. (I was already in shock). I looked up to the road, to find out what the shrieking sound was. It was Vera. She was hysterical! I started to climb the hill to try to calm Vera. I was a bit surprised to find the left leg wasn't working all that well. I climbed, dragging the left leg behind me. I got to the top and stood up. The sight of me upset her more and started my friend Karen screaming too!! </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; white-space: pre-wrap; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; white-space: pre-wrap; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">(note: At this point, a woman came out of the house across the street. She looked over, pulled her mail out of the mailbox, perused the envelopes, looked back over at me and walked back in her house!!! Dad had a 'nice talk' with her a few days later....) </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; white-space: pre-wrap; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; white-space: pre-wrap; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">As I was trying, unsuccessfully, to convince Karen and Vera that I was fine, a shiny, black '50' or '51' Chevy sedan pulled up and stopped. The driver got out, ran around the car and knelt down in front of me. He looked at my leg, stood up and took off his belt to wrap it around my upper leg. I remember standing there wondering what all the fuss was about. The man was a State Patrol officer on a drive with his Mother. His name was J.J. Harvey. </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; white-space: pre-wrap; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; white-space: pre-wrap; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">He told Vera and Karen to go home and asked me who my doctor was. He got me in his car between him and his Mother and sped off. I was already a car freak at 10. I loved the speed. I was enjoying the fast ride when I felt a 'twinge' in my stomach. I reached down and lifted the little skirt on my suit to discover my abdominal tissue and maybe, part of my intestine, was spilling out onto my lap...... Harvey's Mother took one look, muttered faintly, "Oh...Jay..." and fainted! J.J. looked over at my lap and said 'That-four-letter-word'. (First time I ever heard it). Then he punched the gas and we screamed, honking the horn, the next 8 or 10 blocks to Dr. Barnes' office. More speed! Even more fun!! </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; white-space: pre-wrap; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; white-space: pre-wrap; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Dr. Barnes called an ambulance and my Mom and started to patch me up for transport. He must have given me a sedative shot because I don't remember anything until I woke up in the ambulance. The siren was screaming. There were two men up front. The driver and passenger. My Mom was on a little bench in back, near my head. She looked terrified! </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; white-space: pre-wrap; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; white-space: pre-wrap; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I looked out the window and saw a sign for one of the funeral homes on Lombard. I muttered to Mom, "....am I dead....??" She looked down and said I wasn't and we were on the way to Providence hospital. I had an uncomfortable feeling in the front of my bathing suit and reached in the top to remove the cherries. They were all mashed up and juicy. I pulled out a big handful and held them out to Mom. She took one look and pitched forward in a dead faint! The passenger saw it too. He swore and jumped to the rear to grab Mom and my hand. He was white as a sheet! Then, he took a closer looked and said, "Pits....There's pits...!" He pushed Mom's head up and started gently slapping her face, saying, "Pits....It's pits! Look!" as we drove up to the hospital. </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; white-space: pre-wrap; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; white-space: pre-wrap; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">They must have sedated me more in the Emergency room. Next thing I knew, I was waking up from 6 or 7 hours of surgery. I was in the Pediatric Ward and a nun was standing over me. She got Mom and Dad. They were fussing over me when I noticed dad had a band-aid on his earlobe. Apparently, when he arrived at the hospital someone thought he was there to give blood. He thought I needed blood and went along with the nurse. She pricked his ear to type the blood as he asked how I was. The mistake was discovered. They put a bandage on his ear and sent him to the waiting room.</span></span></span><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn_V6F4y23xLuQdTJDNrlMJ69eY6xJehmPXEODMemY2NQpx6tC3CLLHQNvzwnGs5mQkDJuT-Rwxvyq672vhzneCc-UQW-gA8lTBD9GH_brm8gN3N3BFuL6dSKfgxx5yMB3u1FXXc_eeMkr/s1600-h/cherries.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 377px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn_V6F4y23xLuQdTJDNrlMJ69eY6xJehmPXEODMemY2NQpx6tC3CLLHQNvzwnGs5mQkDJuT-Rwxvyq672vhzneCc-UQW-gA8lTBD9GH_brm8gN3N3BFuL6dSKfgxx5yMB3u1FXXc_eeMkr/s400/cherries.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325539893237655922" /></a>P-Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13148217708832668431noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-532775452557508029.post-28289523257585649402009-04-16T23:03:00.000-07:002009-04-16T23:12:46.770-07:00Part Three...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioXjjJhBgnF0JpXKG8NpSa5qrl2J4QNJy9LyrVjGhkbmzCuvMFlrJcfJyfv-MEf_Rjx022ctU9PbVN0CwmhKUsDvstirgJYAga3BCvT1y1Xd68AvvKLuQ5SWhlcrWNnOOf1GBw3yV5udnH/s1600-h/VanCampsPorkAndBeans-1896A.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 276px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioXjjJhBgnF0JpXKG8NpSa5qrl2J4QNJy9LyrVjGhkbmzCuvMFlrJcfJyfv-MEf_Rjx022ctU9PbVN0CwmhKUsDvstirgJYAga3BCvT1y1Xd68AvvKLuQ5SWhlcrWNnOOf1GBw3yV5udnH/s400/VanCampsPorkAndBeans-1896A.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325537436899115618" /></a><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; white-space: pre-wrap; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Note: When Dad got back to work on Monday there were beans stuck to everything in the lunch area. The men used to put unopened cans on the potbelly stove and take them off when they were warm, for lunch. Dad forgot he had them on the stove. They eventually, blew up and spattered beans everywhere. </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: verdana; font-size: 18px; white-space: pre-wrap; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; white-space: pre-wrap; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I was always so reckless and goofy that they already knew I am allergic to catgut. Dr. B. came in to see me and told us he stopped counting at about 1500 stainless steel stitches. My leg had a cast all the way up to my hip, I had tubes coming out of my leg and my stomach, stitches on the cuts up my leg, stitches in cuts all the way across where my legs and stomach meet, and stitches from one side of my stomach to the other. </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: verdana; font-size: 18px; white-space: pre-wrap; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; white-space: pre-wrap; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Note: They all itched and I got in trouble for scratching the ones under the cast on my upper leg with an unbent hanger.... </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: verdana; font-size: 18px; white-space: pre-wrap; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; white-space: pre-wrap; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">The stay at Providence seemed like fun to a kid. Except when a grizzled little man with an electric saw and a unlit cigar came in. He plugged in the saw and began to saw on my cast!! No one told me he was there to make an access 'door' to the biggest leg wound. I let out a scream, scared him. He kept sawing though. The nuns ran in and told me what was going on. </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: verdana; font-size: 18px; white-space: pre-wrap; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; white-space: pre-wrap; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Then there was the time Doc B. tried to pull out a 'stitch or two' on the same wound. I was adamantly, against it and somehow summoned more strength to lift the entire cast and kick him in the chin hard enough to cause a life-long scar he never let me forget. </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: verdana; font-size: 18px; white-space: pre-wrap; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; white-space: pre-wrap; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">The rest of the 2 weeks I was in hospital were fun as I remember it. Getting up earlier than the kid with the broken leg next door, to get the 'good' wheelchair. The other one was an old cane job that always lost the hall races. The girl that was my age, in the bed next to me, was supposed to have complete bed rest. She got up and jumped on the bed from the minute the door closed to whenever someone came back in. </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: verdana; font-size: 18px; white-space: pre-wrap; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; white-space: pre-wrap; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Once I got home I was the Diva of the trailer park. The kids fixed up a wagon to tow me around so as not to miss any of the park fun. Another 'lackey' followed along carrying a folding chair. We were like H.R.H. on Progress. </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: verdana; font-size: 18px; white-space: pre-wrap; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; white-space: pre-wrap; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">About a week after I came home a pick-up game of Tag football started. Sides were chosen and the game began. I was ensconced on my 'throne', the Queen of all I surveyed. Blanket across my lap, 'Lackey' at my side to run for my needs. Meanwhile, one of the kids gets the idea that the other side could be thrown off and not apt to grab my ribbon if they put me in. Okay...at 10; it was a great idea. I joined the huddle. As we broke, I stumped off down the 'field', caught the ball and turned to keep stumping towards the end zone. Apparently, one of the kids on the other team (I think it was Tom Eddy...) wasn't as afraid of my situation as was originally thought.... He TACKLED me!!! Used to happen a lot. ("Oops! I forgot it's Tag Football...." was heard quite often). I will never forget the reaction of my Mom and the way Doc. Barnes screamed, "You were playing FOOTBALL???? </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: verdana; font-size: 18px; white-space: pre-wrap; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; white-space: pre-wrap; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Final note: This area was so much smaller then. My Aunt and Uncle lived in Astoria, Oregon. My accident was mentioned in their local paper.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiodWtRbtQMiXTqWERinqBlJlH_MoujHpDz8seCnAH6oI3p_nXTt9eYTDWJkMGzrJRehVhgJ9Z61JRbtApkRqS2nfIjNLIk4Gy8Kadj5q_i5m2sCeNJFF9zac9l1G6O7fOV_Tc4FETFZdtF/s1600-h/redwagon.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 292px; height: 298px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiodWtRbtQMiXTqWERinqBlJlH_MoujHpDz8seCnAH6oI3p_nXTt9eYTDWJkMGzrJRehVhgJ9Z61JRbtApkRqS2nfIjNLIk4Gy8Kadj5q_i5m2sCeNJFF9zac9l1G6O7fOV_Tc4FETFZdtF/s400/redwagon.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325537045699974402" /></a>P-Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13148217708832668431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-532775452557508029.post-72668454703805517782009-04-11T12:27:00.001-07:002009-04-11T12:37:35.800-07:00Doo Wop<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0lPAFr_MawRgi9Wr8JzCfwvQ-cHwDn72XlAvYOdklyu6ru_S0xyBFD60UyOARPboNxjDj9SqSnqvu0s3wF2c3k010CFkXY1jFxEwGGruvICAuo6ZUiTEjkGV_jEStXj_mZx31GhliEsER/s1600-h/45rpm.gif"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0lPAFr_MawRgi9Wr8JzCfwvQ-cHwDn72XlAvYOdklyu6ru_S0xyBFD60UyOARPboNxjDj9SqSnqvu0s3wF2c3k010CFkXY1jFxEwGGruvICAuo6ZUiTEjkGV_jEStXj_mZx31GhliEsER/s400/45rpm.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323519734852528258" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Doo Wop Oldies Quiz:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(answers below)</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Thirty great memories about music that caused our parents and teachers grief! Take the quiz and see how you score a true ''Oldies Fan.'' Write down your answers and check them against the answers at the end. Don't cheat, now!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">1. When did ''Little Suzie'' finally wake up?</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(a) The movie's over, it's 2 o'clock</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(b) The movie's over, it's 3 o'clock</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(c) The movie's over, it's 4 o'clock</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">2. ''Rock Around The Clock'' was used in what movie?</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(a) Rebel Without A Cause</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(b) Blackboard Jungle</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(c) The Wild Ones</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">3. What's missing from a Rock & Roll standpoint? Earth _____</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(a) Angel</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(b) Mother</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(c) Worm</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">4. ''I found my thrill . . .'' where?</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(a) Kansas City</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(b) Heartbreak Hotel</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(c) Blueberry Hill</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"> 5. ''Please turn on your magic beam, _____ _____ bring me a dream."</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(a) Mr. Sandman</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(b) Earth Angel</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(c) Dream Lover</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">6. For which label did Elvis Presley first record?</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(a) Atlantic</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(b) RCA</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(c) Sun</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"> 7. He asked, ''Why's everybody always pickin' on me?'' Who was he?</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(a) Bad, Bad Leroy Brown</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(b) Charlie Brown</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(c) Buster Brown</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">8. In Bobby Darin's ''Mack The Knife,'' the one with the knife, was named:</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(a) Mac Heath</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(b) Mac Cloud</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(c) Mac Namara</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">9. Name the song with ''A-wop bop a-loo bop a-lop bam boom.''</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(a) Good Golly, Miss Molly</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(b) Be-Bop-A-Lula</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(c) Tutti Fruitti</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">10. Who is generally given credit for originating the term ''Rock And Roll''?</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(a) Dick Clark</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(b) Wolfman Jack</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(c) Alan Freed</span><br /><br /><a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEignz9ixnamzgmD18lmRD_fv4aL_q3QLbKZP2njk_oYeD6kx_ZgFizC4FLq80VsJUiDEEozdHpFCsTU8J4Zimkwkw7St80Rhcm1-oue2sb8XKBcDYxNIO9njGhn2jHIxy6yrQI9EKpYh6tq/s1600-h/alanfreed.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 387px; height: 333px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEignz9ixnamzgmD18lmRD_fv4aL_q3QLbKZP2njk_oYeD6kx_ZgFizC4FLq80VsJUiDEEozdHpFCsTU8J4Zimkwkw7St80Rhcm1-oue2sb8XKBcDYxNIO9njGhn2jHIxy6yrQI9EKpYh6tq/s400/alanfreed.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323519255515371858" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">11. In 1957, he left the music business to become a preacher:</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(a) Little Richard</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(b) Frankie Lymon</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(c) Tony Orlando</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">12. Paul Anka's ''Puppy Love'' is written to what star?</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(a) Brenda Lee</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(b) Connie Francis</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(c) Annette Funicello</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">13. The Everly Brothers are . . ....</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(a) Pete and Dick</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(b) Don and Phil</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(c) Bob and Bill</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">14. The Big Bopper's real name was:</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(a) Jiles P. Richardson</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(b) Roy Harold Scherer Jr.</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(c) Marion Michael Morrison</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">15. In 1959, Berry Gordy, Jr., started a small record company called...</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(a) Decca</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(b) Cameo</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(c) Motown</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">16. Edd Brynes had a hit with ''Kookie, Kookie, Lend Me Your Comb''. What TV show was he on?</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(a) 77 Sunset Strip</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(b) Hawaiian Eye</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(c) Surfside Six</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">17. In 1960 Bobby Darin married:</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(a) Carol Lynley</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(b) Sandra Dee</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(c) Natalie Wood</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">18. They were a one hit wonder with ''Book Of Love'':</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(a) The Penguins</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(b) The Monotones</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(c) The Moonglows</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">19. The Everly Brothers sang a song called ''Till I ______ You.''</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(a) Loved</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(b) Kissed</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(c) Met</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">20. Chuck Berry sang ''Oh, ___________, why can't you be true?''</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(a) Suzie Q</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(b) Peggy Sue</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(c) Maybelline</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">21. ''Wooly _______''</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(a) Mammouth</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(b) Bully</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(c) Pully</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">22. ''I'm like a one-eyed cat . . . .."</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(a) can't go into town no more</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(b) sleepin' on a cold hard floor</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(c) peepin' in a seafood store</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">23. ''Sometimes I wonder what I'm gonna do . . . . ..''</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(a) cause there ain't no answer for a life without booze</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(b) cause there ain't no cure for the summertime blues</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(c) cause my car's gassed up and I'm ready to cruise</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">24. ''They often call me Speedo, but my real name is . .. . . . .''</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(a) Mr. Earl</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(b) Jackie Pearl</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(c) Milton Berle</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">25. ''You're my Fanny and nobody else's .....''</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(a) girl</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(b) butt</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(c) love</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">26. ''I want you to play with my . . . ''</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(a) heart</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(b) dreams</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(c) ding a ling</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">27. ''Be Bop A Lula ....''</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(a) she's got the rabies</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(b) she's my baby.</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(c) she loves me, maybe</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">28. ''Fine Love, Fine Kissing ....''</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(a) right here</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(b) fifty cents</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(c) just for you</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">29. ''He wore black denim trousers and . . ..''</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(a) a pink carnation</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(b) pink leotards</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(c) motorcycle boots</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">30. ''I got a gal named . . ..''</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(a) Jenny Zamboni</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(b) Gerri Mahoney</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(c) Boney Maroney</span><br /><br /><br /><a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF4gnhpp8vXFPngG_HOmtPoSoe9vk4cz6OciUwIdTmnIuk520GOBuKyE8dpwrorA4YIwIm2e45PeTq-YVEMk1OnIMMc29ofoLH8M7XxVCJizSuXyBoZCOfCjAjfFRL0zfya3uiFSnmPvWo/s1600-h/dancing50s.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 310px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF4gnhpp8vXFPngG_HOmtPoSoe9vk4cz6OciUwIdTmnIuk520GOBuKyE8dpwrorA4YIwIm2e45PeTq-YVEMk1OnIMMc29ofoLH8M7XxVCJizSuXyBoZCOfCjAjfFRL0zfya3uiFSnmPvWo/s400/dancing50s.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323518740458280690" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Answers: Don't look until you've answered all of them.</span><br /><br /><a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAX4wC0P1e_YO4imV-ixFlBkWabQF2crO5vchiq3gTE5SNsDI1bLZUEYZGuzbi6S1v_-6yKmVkj7mN33JyugedN93O-ojNmvyLbEJuH3OUF7GAumx58sYvYKRn6WdyFiyp3GhiYLdhMm8g/s1600-h/1950s_Wurlitzer_juke_box.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 314px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAX4wC0P1e_YO4imV-ixFlBkWabQF2crO5vchiq3gTE5SNsDI1bLZUEYZGuzbi6S1v_-6yKmVkj7mN33JyugedN93O-ojNmvyLbEJuH3OUF7GAumx58sYvYKRn6WdyFiyp3GhiYLdhMm8g/s400/1950s_Wurlitzer_juke_box.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323518345046079906" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">1 (c) The movie's over, it's 4 o'clock</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">2. (b) Blackboard Jungle</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">3. (a) Angel</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">4. (c) Blueberry Hill</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">5. (a) Mr. Sandman</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">6. (c) Sun</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">7. (b) Charlie Brown</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">8. (a) Mac Heath</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">9. (c) Tutti Fruitti</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">10. (c) Alan Freed</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">11. (a) Little Richard</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">12. (c) Annette Funicello</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">13. (b) Don and Phil</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">14. (a) Jiles P. Richardson</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">15. (c) Motown</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">16. (a) 77 Sunset Strip</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">17. (b) Sandra Dee</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">18. (b) The Monotones</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">19. (b) Kissed</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">20. (c) Maybelline</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">21. (b) Bully</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">22. (c) peepin' in a seafood store</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">23. (b) cause there ain't no cure for the summertime blues</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">24. (a) Mr. Earl</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">25. (b) butt</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">26. (c) ding a ling</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">27. (b) she's my baby</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">28. (a) right here</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">29. (c) motorcycle boots</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">30. (c) Boney Maroney</span><br /></span>P-Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13148217708832668431noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-532775452557508029.post-23890941342899563902009-04-05T18:34:00.000-07:002009-04-05T18:36:33.267-07:00The Answer<span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"> She was born Norma Jeane Mortenson on June 1, 1926 in Los Angeles, California, to Gladys Baker. As the identity of her father is undetermined, she was later baptized Norma Jeane Baker. Gladys had been a film cutter at RKO studios, but psychological problems prevented her from keeping the job and she was eventually committed to a mental institution.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Norma Jeane spent most of her childhood in foster homes and orphanages until 1937, when she moved in with family friend Grace McKee Goddard. Unfortunately, when Grace's husband was transferred to the East Coast in 1942, the couple couldn't afford to take 16-year-old Norma Jeane with them. Norma Jeane had two options: return to the orphanage or get married.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">On June 19, 1942 she wed her 21-year-old neighbor Jimmy Dougherty, whom she had been dating for six months. "She was a sweet, generous and religious girl," Jimmy said. "She liked to be cuddled." By all accounts Norma Jeane loved Jimmy, and they were happy together until he joined the Merchant Marines and was sent to the South Pacific in 1944.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">After Jimmy left, Norma Jeane took a job on the assembly line at the Radio Plane Munitions factory in Burbank, California. Several months later, photographer David Conover saw her while taking pictures of women contributing to the war effort for Yank magazine. He couldn't believe his luck. She was a "photographer's dream." Conover used her for the shoot and then began sending modeling jobs her way. The camera loved Norma Jeane, and within two years she was a reputable model with many popular magazine covers to her credit. She began studying the work of legendary actresses Jean Harlow and Lana Turner, and enrolled in drama classes with dreams of stardom. However, Jimmy's return in 1946 meant Norma Jeane had to make another choice- this time between her marriage and her career.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Norma Jeane divorced Jimmy in June of 1946, and signed her first studio contract with Twentieth Century Fox on August 26, 1946. She earned $125 a week. Soon after, Norma Jeane dyed her hair blonde and changed her name to Marilyn Monroe (borrowing her grandmother's last name). The rest, as the saying goes, is history. </span><br /><br /><br /><br /><a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHcxz9hVrLTFtKhPDogb55BZEP0iizaGyoupVNftHX8YSqbm4SV8SiblpUj0-8lY0PsC2LLdeSEz5f_vwkceC4ntIVp6s89vbvvpMvCRwlYuT1BFV2FwPN8VPcihyphenhyphenbCQ48wwQnPT0RDq3N/s1600-h/marilyn_monroe.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 316px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHcxz9hVrLTFtKhPDogb55BZEP0iizaGyoupVNftHX8YSqbm4SV8SiblpUj0-8lY0PsC2LLdeSEz5f_vwkceC4ntIVp6s89vbvvpMvCRwlYuT1BFV2FwPN8VPcihyphenhyphenbCQ48wwQnPT0RDq3N/s400/marilyn_monroe.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321385932102231474" border="0" /></a><br /><br /></span>P-Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13148217708832668431noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-532775452557508029.post-15275490674249061132009-03-31T13:18:00.000-07:002009-03-31T13:19:06.322-07:00Can you guess who this is?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb3AIeJV5diSGKet4gDSMHAYC37sFwiIF_iRn85OWsZksgVScnFgi86OST1k_IhyphenhyphenfXpZUhMhgOJFSiC-AJ6cLhgIaVq8lE9uotlW_XvRioZHcX0mQJyBoYbKvv7nDN-1-UgmHH6JYTfQEN/s1600-h/bridecolor.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 308px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb3AIeJV5diSGKet4gDSMHAYC37sFwiIF_iRn85OWsZksgVScnFgi86OST1k_IhyphenhyphenfXpZUhMhgOJFSiC-AJ6cLhgIaVq8lE9uotlW_XvRioZHcX0mQJyBoYbKvv7nDN-1-UgmHH6JYTfQEN/s400/bridecolor.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319448951512552738" /></a>P-Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13148217708832668431noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-532775452557508029.post-45441013317327848262009-03-19T12:15:00.000-07:002009-03-19T12:47:31.673-07:00Dress Code for Seniors or What is Age Appropriate?<span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">I realize that this is just a cartoon but I HAVE seen the real thing at the beach before.</span></span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA3F-SsUCKNwwUi1s9b0O-A5D0RVliuY9JIT19hp7pa17kPF3zg6u2VOSM-drQNRW1l55t3-AJR_M6hDVpRQsesQi21I9TMyJ0BMPDV_YBNkvluVsp4g6EdtcwJ1UsXYFy5suHn6LJUeu_/s1600-h/SeniorCitizens.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 270px; height: 291px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA3F-SsUCKNwwUi1s9b0O-A5D0RVliuY9JIT19hp7pa17kPF3zg6u2VOSM-drQNRW1l55t3-AJR_M6hDVpRQsesQi21I9TMyJ0BMPDV_YBNkvluVsp4g6EdtcwJ1UsXYFy5suHn6LJUeu_/s400/SeniorCitizens.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314984599797446370" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">This is a Senior Stripper named Tempest....</span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmtn4OdTlTL7q5UsRZk5W5b1oCA8JmVHwQ_bkIdprZ71EHlfsMHlVym5PZpsrOMbibDn2oae1fWaklNlIllCOaZXEaGFizELfry9_xCHSCEQLV3LkIiwkaGbgdjgDdECeFhQbzTCv_O-Uh/s1600-h/07-15-2008_tempest-292x219.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 292px; height: 219px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmtn4OdTlTL7q5UsRZk5W5b1oCA8JmVHwQ_bkIdprZ71EHlfsMHlVym5PZpsrOMbibDn2oae1fWaklNlIllCOaZXEaGFizELfry9_xCHSCEQLV3LkIiwkaGbgdjgDdECeFhQbzTCv_O-Uh/s400/07-15-2008_tempest-292x219.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314984465446606690" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:verdana;" > While out shopping this week, I saw an much older lady with soooooo many things wrong with the way she was dressed. She had not had an age appropriate check in a long time. Right down to a toe ring on poorly manicured feet with toes that were all gnarled up.</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:verdana;" >I have never claimed to be a fashion-ista but this poor soul was obviously confused about how old she was now.<br /><br />Then today I received this from Attebetty and I just had to say something.</span> </span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 224);font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;" ><div style="margin-bottom: 10pt; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><p class="EC_MsoNormal">Many of us over 50, W-AAAAY over 50, are quite confused about how we should present ourselves. We're unsure about the kind of image we are projecting and whether or not we are correct as we try to conform to current fashion.<br /><br />In spite of what you may have seen on the streets, the following<br />combinations DO NOT go together and should be avoided:<br /><br />1. A nose ring and bifocals<br /><br />2. Spiked hair and bald spots<br /><br />3. A pierced tongue and dentures<br /><br />4. Miniskirts and support hose<br /><br />5. Ankle bracelets and corn pads <br /><br />6. Speedo's and cellulite<br /><br />7. A belly button ring and a gall bladder surgery scar </p></div> <div style="margin-bottom: 10pt; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> <p class="EC_MsoNormal">8. Unbuttoned disco shirts and a heart monitor<br /><br />9. Midriff shirts and a midriff bulge </p></div> <div style="margin-bottom: 10pt;"> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" class="EC_MsoNormal">10. Pierced nipples that hang below the waist<br /><br />11. Bikinis and liver spots<br /><br />12. Short shorts and varicose veins .<br /><br />13. Inline skates and a walker<br /><br />And the ultimate 'Bad Taste' in fashion for the older folks...<br /><br />14. Thongs and Depends<br /><br />Please keep these basic guidelines foremost in your mind when you shop.</p><p class="EC_MsoNormal"><span style="color:black;"><span style="color:black;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">WORST CASE ....thinking that joining a nudist colony would be a good idea.</span><br /></span></span><b><span style="color:black;"><span style="font-weight: bold;color:black;" > </span></span></b></p></div></span><span style="font-size:130%;"> <a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgN7lDGDg3GSnxsjwlg2ScouLE_KzPlF7PPey56EBJ5t4MZAVNNjYKej_G58ucCGLFjWf8dRbEBudCDx7jDU4pmt5P7u7hTnQxpga-sN7XW2iKeL4dFnt1t3ykgW_6jq1zvQHlGU8ZWq-d/s1600-h/securedownload.jpeg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 361px; height: 226px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgN7lDGDg3GSnxsjwlg2ScouLE_KzPlF7PPey56EBJ5t4MZAVNNjYKej_G58ucCGLFjWf8dRbEBudCDx7jDU4pmt5P7u7hTnQxpga-sN7XW2iKeL4dFnt1t3ykgW_6jq1zvQHlGU8ZWq-d/s400/securedownload.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314979872292712194" border="0" /></a> </span>P-Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13148217708832668431noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-532775452557508029.post-44751945776234084722009-02-28T17:30:00.000-08:002009-02-28T17:31:49.049-08:00Ballast stories from two of the "biddies"<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNxp3-edLryO5qAJ5okrh0tFpLJ-iL3QdKfwaTcyF7YWRqTmxXItsKgqs_fsyI35ra1Yy7seiC5HBj5y8-JDbhhL37Biw8_ZQli7amfnB2OSwoS47Vc1eehsTM0poAmGPPAqZG8cRPetzJ/s1600-h/goodwife.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 380px; height: 309px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNxp3-edLryO5qAJ5okrh0tFpLJ-iL3QdKfwaTcyF7YWRqTmxXItsKgqs_fsyI35ra1Yy7seiC5HBj5y8-JDbhhL37Biw8_ZQli7amfnB2OSwoS47Vc1eehsTM0poAmGPPAqZG8cRPetzJ/s400/goodwife.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305879848673495474" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:verdana;">{Attebetty's story}</span><br /><div style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span></div> <div style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:130%;">This tractor photo made me realize I've spent a small part of my life as 'ballast'......</span></div> <div style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span></div> <div style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:130%;">First, Vern, Steve Stalter and I were out dinking around on a snowy night and Vern's little car slid off the road and nosed into a deep-ish ditch. Steve and I got in the ditch and pushed as Vern gunned the motor, to no avail. Then Vern made me get up on the trunk while he pushed and Steve drove. Bob's your Uncle and we were out. I've teased him about 'insulting me' for years. He always answers with, "....worked didn't it...?"</span></div> <div style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span></div> <div style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Then to 1968. Dee and I went to the drive-in with Debbie and Larry Parker in his 67 Camaro. While we were there, the front, passenger side tire went flat. When Larry checked it, there was a pretty big hole in it. He had no spare. (....Who needed a stinking spare when there was beer to be bought in the 60s...????)</span></div> <div style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span></div> <div style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:130%;">We got all the way from the Drive-in on 75th to 23rd and Hoyt by 'squishing' over to the drivers side. Dee was on my lap and Deb sat, mostly, on Larry's lap as he drove, thus re-balancing the car. Larry drove <u>real</u> slow on back streets, all the way. It worked because the Camaro was so long in the front and short, short in the back behind the passenger compartment.</span></div> <div style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span></div> <div style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Also reminded me of the day Dad was out yanking the concrete edges of the driveway. Also in the late 60's. He was breaking them up and pulling them out with the old '40 Dodge truck. Remember it? Not a lot of truck. Cool though. He got to one big piece that was giving him fits. He dug a hole under the middle of it and attached the chain. It wouldn't budge though. He came in and got Vera and I. He made us get in the bed and sit over each back wheel. Our extra weight did the job and the concrete came right out.</span></div> <div style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span></div> <div style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Vera was not happy, to say the least. I saw the humor in it. Dad sealed the deal when he got out of the car grinning and said quietly, "First time I've been happy to have two big daughters......." I cracked up and it took days for Vera to speak to him again.<br /><br />{Pdot's story}<br />Back in the 70's, when I lived in another world by the name of Metaline Falls, my Wusband loved to go driving in the mountains. We lived very remotely and actually in the mountains, but I am talking about driving further up on little, one lane, gravel logging roads. Some roads were so old that saplings 4 feet tall had started to grow up in the middle of them.<br />We had recently acquired a little lavender and white Scout with 4 wheel drive that the Wusbund was dying to try out.<br />I had prepared dinner and put it into the oven to cook for an hour when he said, "let's all (meaning my four children and I) go for a drive." What's the harm I thought, so off we went. I had on my house shoes and saw no need to change as we would be back soon. Since we heated our home with an old wood stove,we were all dressed very lightly and we just trouped out to the Scout and left.<br />Up we went, and in a little while I said we should be heading back now as a half hour had passed and it would take that long to get back home. The views in the mountains were spectacular but it was getting darker and I was getting anxious.<br />Just as he tried to back down to a wide spot in the road to get turned around, he got too far over to the edge and due to the melting snow, the edge was soft and we started to tilt a little to the drivers side of the vehicle. I tried to keep my voice calm and said to John, my oldest son, to open the door on the passenger side and take his little brothers and get out.<br />My Wusband got out and put the Scout into 4 wheel drive and tried to drive away from the edge of the road. He just kept digging in deeper and the vehicle kept tilting further and further to the drivers side over the slash area.<br />I could just see it rolling over and him being injured with no way out for us but to walk. Four little children with no coats and me in slippers with snow on the ground.<br />I was praying and praying and begging him to stop trying to drive out of the predicament. An idea suddenly came to me. There were some big flat rocks along the side of the road. What if we stacked them under the back bumper and I got a log and we used it like a jack on top of the rocks to lift the back end of the vehicle up and out of danger. I got every one working on getting the rocks stacked and finding a small log that we could carry but would not break under the weight. Besides, getting the things in place would keep the kids warm and it JUST had to work.<br />We got the whole thing set up and I placed my weight on the end of the pole and swung out a little and the Scout creaked and groaned and started to move in a little. My son John, darted to the edge and put big rocks in the hole the tire had made while the Wasbund pushed against the Scout so it wouldn't slip back into the hole. When we had gotten it to where we thought it was safe again, he jumped in and gunned it and drove out.<br />It was just dark by then and we turned around "carefully" and drove down and home. Dinner was a little over done but not ruined and we wouldn't have cared anyway.<br />I don't know if you would call me ballast but it sure was leverage and it sure was God answering a frantic Mother's prayer.<br />Oh, and by the way.....the 4 wheel drive did NOT work in that bad boy so we had to have it fixed. Several months later the back axle of the car came off as we were driving up a winding road and we rolled over into a ditch. But that is another story.....<br /></span></div> <div style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span></div>P-Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13148217708832668431noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-532775452557508029.post-37516043900633881582009-02-21T12:57:00.001-08:002009-02-21T14:35:46.220-08:00TV - The 60's<span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">As I have been looking at TV in the 60's I realized I didn't watch much during those years and a lot of it I only saw if it went into re-runs years later. I did not have a TV for most of that time. There was no moral issue or any statement being made. We just didn't have a TV.<br />As I was growing up, there was no TV in our home until 1956. I was 12 then so it was never part of my growing up as is the same case with a lot of people in my age group.<br />In our home we watched a show on a specific night then we turned it off.<br /><br />Look closely at this and see how little choice we had in programing in those days and this may explain some of it.</span></span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitCQ7Vn3s2gzJdGL4LcHNIRMMq2HSPbJPKreFZvpCXcu_03xvkVplYTod7JOzprnaoMTmRWoKkJZjPetfWbpv3dtX-ixIdG_l4jHLHF5mTzkhqKkGfbVGN5K6S_XzPq0f7EZ6pKDxcqU1U/s1600-h/1961tvschedule.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 271px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitCQ7Vn3s2gzJdGL4LcHNIRMMq2HSPbJPKreFZvpCXcu_03xvkVplYTod7JOzprnaoMTmRWoKkJZjPetfWbpv3dtX-ixIdG_l4jHLHF5mTzkhqKkGfbVGN5K6S_XzPq0f7EZ6pKDxcqU1U/s400/1961tvschedule.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305367756456173410" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">1960 -This guy and this show scared me to death. The Twilight Zone had some of the creepiest stories and I still remember parts of some of them.</span></span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpmOEfBdhPpAH3owUMppqHyNEtojvigGxSH-Y3yPW2MnYP4GP8T0Ux3wRqRCIeYKKMjsYMQvpqbrudCEHyUAZnp6zHPKQ0Y-lo4d461i8WxH1Wqqc9UtOkFxo4NkchgvDh35H2g5xA6yif/s1600-h/1960.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 322px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpmOEfBdhPpAH3owUMppqHyNEtojvigGxSH-Y3yPW2MnYP4GP8T0Ux3wRqRCIeYKKMjsYMQvpqbrudCEHyUAZnp6zHPKQ0Y-lo4d461i8WxH1Wqqc9UtOkFxo4NkchgvDh35H2g5xA6yif/s400/1960.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305361415149780578" border="0" /></a><br /><div class="obj-news-pic-w"> <div class="obj-news-pic"><img src="http://static.tvguide.com/MediaBin/Galleries/Imported/ShowPix/Jonathan/imagesA_M/Bonanza.jpg" alt="Bonanza" height="150" width="218" /></div> </div> <span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"> Ben Cartwright and his three sons (by three wives, I might add) rode herd over the Ponderosa spread in 1860s Nevada in one of the most beloved series of all time. The first TV Western to be shown in color, it ran for 14 seasons; was the top-rated show for three of those years (1964-67). My Mom, who was so not into TV, was crazy about Ben. All phone calls, flitting about and talking had to stop when this show came on. She sat in her chair with her chin resting on her right hand, totally mesmerized. It was one of the few Westerns I ever liked.</span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsly-q0VhPJqXzrcDrNn_eU0EmRGBJG-7jKd8rzxCR6IEhh-OTTQOxRFu5gVF0RmAkvM0RTUltytW2gMH0uhcMVm3LQSOBLuSEmd6IdRTgui7sQ3Vv3HsjEkaT_sA97QQZT6q5SQlLTm_X/s1600-h/1960bonanza.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 319px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsly-q0VhPJqXzrcDrNn_eU0EmRGBJG-7jKd8rzxCR6IEhh-OTTQOxRFu5gVF0RmAkvM0RTUltytW2gMH0uhcMVm3LQSOBLuSEmd6IdRTgui7sQ3Vv3HsjEkaT_sA97QQZT6q5SQlLTm_X/s400/1960bonanza.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305361283348126562" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">1960 Television-See how wide they are starting to get. Curtis Mathis used to bring a Color TV to your house to let you watch for a week in order to sell you one. It took several big guys to bring it in. Did we ever buy one? NO. Everyone in the apartment building I lived in at the time took a turn on their free offer and we would go into each others apartments and watch TV every night.</span><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOyeU2wN-TWTz5oXhIg4NTEWHr-mpvPy0-8aRma8whMeLRNyXIoLCXu4xwBAXO-BHYK83v3FX4Il0IekUV-vedTPlNe_GanUoFHu5x-tm0mr662imMBXjOvMBJ_vZ4WLz_UvTiffZ7pg61/s1600-h/1960oldtv.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 290px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOyeU2wN-TWTz5oXhIg4NTEWHr-mpvPy0-8aRma8whMeLRNyXIoLCXu4xwBAXO-BHYK83v3FX4Il0IekUV-vedTPlNe_GanUoFHu5x-tm0mr662imMBXjOvMBJ_vZ4WLz_UvTiffZ7pg61/s400/1960oldtv.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305361182737529122" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">The Dick Van Dyke Show-One of the funniest shows ever on TV. The writing was sophisticated and you actually had to have a brain to get some of the jokes. I still love this show and would watch re-runs as it is timeless.</span></span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlnxHPk7zs5E6F_q1eyiTmN8n6G6pnYWGjv7uCK3c0Nu4jndar43z0_ZlksYViO_qFkMcHv_SxAVLPsidSOKOXSX_5iPPlBjaVpVdE8JypIxAGzhaXTOtiRTryOkh8tRWnfRFpwpaxAg4D/s1600-h/1961dickvandyke.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 325px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlnxHPk7zs5E6F_q1eyiTmN8n6G6pnYWGjv7uCK3c0Nu4jndar43z0_ZlksYViO_qFkMcHv_SxAVLPsidSOKOXSX_5iPPlBjaVpVdE8JypIxAGzhaXTOtiRTryOkh8tRWnfRFpwpaxAg4D/s400/1961dickvandyke.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305360927662737602" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">1961-A good year to be ill, especially if you got Dr. Kildare when you were rolled into the hospital.</span></span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5_1lYgrlaZLAOBzJEhJI-q9Nq1vaweww-YvA1_pju4hkVLimyA1viEa88BFu3mpqI_PNswymKcX0isHo4xPIDjj6ol4Je3bjaZ4oL2XNTfHyKhUqqJbw1uuI6srd_3gfcE97A4bXT77TJ/s1600-h/1961drkildare.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 186px; height: 252px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5_1lYgrlaZLAOBzJEhJI-q9Nq1vaweww-YvA1_pju4hkVLimyA1viEa88BFu3mpqI_PNswymKcX0isHo4xPIDjj6ol4Je3bjaZ4oL2XNTfHyKhUqqJbw1uuI6srd_3gfcE97A4bXT77TJ/s400/1961drkildare.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305360779459282434" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Mr Ed-</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">Was about a horse who owned by Wilbur Post. Mister Ed was not just any horse, he talks to Wilbur! But this gets Wilbur in all kinds of trouble because Mister Ed won't talk to anyone else, so Carol, Wilbur's wife, thinks that Wilbur loves Mister Ed more then he loves her, because he spends so much time with Mister Ed. Mister Ed also talks on the telephone and goes out of his barn to cause mischief, which Wilbur gets blamed for. It was one of the funnier shows of that time.</span></span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvwJqEH4GHctYE0ZNvvXPSxP3qnSXeZauoJ1aW-sH75VbsxiptuTb2DptY1cMrasMMt_BWQdP_uTMdigzdU_hFOgXRpcJQo5CSMRL-awRMHyEUmiZNWXdh1CGfAd1wBxHkeyejk_aiifgc/s1600-h/1961mred.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 313px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvwJqEH4GHctYE0ZNvvXPSxP3qnSXeZauoJ1aW-sH75VbsxiptuTb2DptY1cMrasMMt_BWQdP_uTMdigzdU_hFOgXRpcJQo5CSMRL-awRMHyEUmiZNWXdh1CGfAd1wBxHkeyejk_aiifgc/s400/1961mred.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305360642770921042" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">The Andy Griffith Show-Little Ron Howard as Opie. Was that not the cutest face in TV land?</span></span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiGP-jyEMK27xc7yr7lg6cdXR6LuVON5F91KmwQ8jnk66py9fK_tXO6nJvzBfyPU_aNRu5U0OqpH40LsUHvHfNFJbv7R-_fSejtI-oTf3avRfRbAtuQS1DlMm56hEW6L49PtuGK_kw5-tP/s1600-h/1961tvguideopie.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 256px; height: 365px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiGP-jyEMK27xc7yr7lg6cdXR6LuVON5F91KmwQ8jnk66py9fK_tXO6nJvzBfyPU_aNRu5U0OqpH40LsUHvHfNFJbv7R-_fSejtI-oTf3avRfRbAtuQS1DlMm56hEW6L49PtuGK_kw5-tP/s400/1961tvguideopie.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305360509596008642" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /><br /></span></span><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqGvfCzzQNMkNpc1r6NBPodQUhuob6DJruFFhMKz-e_YrEmY82zhChIqQPyZKhgaIAZRSHvxTBSlB3WbSC0IAujNgmBrNCKdU6PyUax1QP3oaKVkcYvW-Im_HBWdoN9inbdnTwWKU0K3p0/s1600-h/1962.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 273px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqGvfCzzQNMkNpc1r6NBPodQUhuob6DJruFFhMKz-e_YrEmY82zhChIqQPyZKhgaIAZRSHvxTBSlB3WbSC0IAujNgmBrNCKdU6PyUax1QP3oaKVkcYvW-Im_HBWdoN9inbdnTwWKU0K3p0/s400/1962.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305360123909658658" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">The Beverly Hillbillies </span></span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrvAVwJ7oR14xyN6Nr6AK2dooIgmg1So1ujYSHWYzWnMZTupD8bTim7TPGSUO3os_-XF5qRfprpe6Uk1ddl6EBHoXhaubVAgmmWdr9jG-92aJ27FXw9_S42ToXBR-kK0nWZxHHC1sMk9LZ/s1600-h/1962hillbillies.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrvAVwJ7oR14xyN6Nr6AK2dooIgmg1So1ujYSHWYzWnMZTupD8bTim7TPGSUO3os_-XF5qRfprpe6Uk1ddl6EBHoXhaubVAgmmWdr9jG-92aJ27FXw9_S42ToXBR-kK0nWZxHHC1sMk9LZ/s400/1962hillbillies.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305360003892520994" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Mayberry R.F.D.- the spin-off of the Andy Griffith show. Andy got tired of the doing the show so this one was created. It's premier had the largest number of people ever watching a spin-off.</span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz-yo1EdASCYniqKmi_q0-iNunIIEF8MqvhFAkXX0ntBAMaoYjaGsUz39NBvFFCv-or2aAHvARJY9-I7Ta3X_P72Om-6lrtYN1xnMaFcc2QACQqKuxl77y8suymyKBcv5CfHo5NUhJvhrU/s1600-h/1963mayberry.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 340px; height: 382px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz-yo1EdASCYniqKmi_q0-iNunIIEF8MqvhFAkXX0ntBAMaoYjaGsUz39NBvFFCv-or2aAHvARJY9-I7Ta3X_P72Om-6lrtYN1xnMaFcc2QACQqKuxl77y8suymyKBcv5CfHo5NUhJvhrU/s400/1963mayberry.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305359869790401730" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Peyton Place-I never went to my Mother's house on the night this show was on as she would not let me watch it even though I was a grown woman. I read the book when I was in my early teens, hiding under a blanket, with a flash light, after my Mother went to bed.....</span></span><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiqrxueblQdSr4grHoFUFqi6_zJqYkMW2A4zqsNhPWrFh1YOW56rtCsX7BQBee6ITU0jrYysL6oxn8UU32aBeGpZFdLq9Dw87r7oe7E8GhEOzUXhMKJXVHCWNWlh5CPXEejrGf_2Mhvl1n/s1600-h/1964peytonplace.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 164px; height: 251px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiqrxueblQdSr4grHoFUFqi6_zJqYkMW2A4zqsNhPWrFh1YOW56rtCsX7BQBee6ITU0jrYysL6oxn8UU32aBeGpZFdLq9Dw87r7oe7E8GhEOzUXhMKJXVHCWNWlh5CPXEejrGf_2Mhvl1n/s400/1964peytonplace.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305359752165714818" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Hogans Heroes</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPdxTbxiRCl-rHoBfTmCzYBlOEqP-LjC6W5VeWulbLH8-TFDBc-dYGyqLypkbflebpbQkCDuRxcytqIaQeL9EJCwtPJ_LTbyxLcXPaRtyVzk0wUcy5euJqRmwKvvPdV4aOgc7kVA2kq3h1/s1600-h/1965.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 282px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPdxTbxiRCl-rHoBfTmCzYBlOEqP-LjC6W5VeWulbLH8-TFDBc-dYGyqLypkbflebpbQkCDuRxcytqIaQeL9EJCwtPJ_LTbyxLcXPaRtyVzk0wUcy5euJqRmwKvvPdV4aOgc7kVA2kq3h1/s400/1965.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305359610680859362" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:verdana;">Adams Family</span></span><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhooF_uO60Of6ox-AAHS3OCmBlhVk3C_q-U5YnJmACtzz63VHAWb6qUSEyuo0lufYfEWCnkllMKldG_59ZyB-G1LrLmEKIRuljf-ptkvUjSIgyOPKexdWcYJqefFsdr1D4OZD04yhuHNKRd/s1600-h/1965adamsfamily.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 306px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhooF_uO60Of6ox-AAHS3OCmBlhVk3C_q-U5YnJmACtzz63VHAWb6qUSEyuo0lufYfEWCnkllMKldG_59ZyB-G1LrLmEKIRuljf-ptkvUjSIgyOPKexdWcYJqefFsdr1D4OZD04yhuHNKRd/s400/1965adamsfamily.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305359466051443890" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Death Valley Days-had quite a few emcees but this in the one we all remember.</span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRtuaL2kiMDdoBFpAThrr08YYeCgnNkc68twPrAM3EdvqrNKU2XvOWTrE-sITjxd0C5g3G8lIM3_4ZRI-ECrpHVBVw8QM87nmlllnJWRpN_ECUbmZ2HQIYYNdAXf-XFZkYwyyMeOGKljuY/s1600-h/1965deathvalleydays.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRtuaL2kiMDdoBFpAThrr08YYeCgnNkc68twPrAM3EdvqrNKU2XvOWTrE-sITjxd0C5g3G8lIM3_4ZRI-ECrpHVBVw8QM87nmlllnJWRpN_ECUbmZ2HQIYYNdAXf-XFZkYwyyMeOGKljuY/s400/1965deathvalleydays.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305359307480858642" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Man From U.N.C.L.E.</span></span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqI090WaQCpxjNwlXBZNCb7ZyWJ0vehOPNJ1uJGnYNYCvO1aDlFZoea3R8xNs8_HsclwUlh3t3ATWxQ_E3WXtB68KvyTjGhJAeD3rl4nesq-SqMYzYdifk7RkDRSbmaaY0kw9H8DNR-qj-/s1600-h/1965uncle.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 189px; height: 252px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqI090WaQCpxjNwlXBZNCb7ZyWJ0vehOPNJ1uJGnYNYCvO1aDlFZoea3R8xNs8_HsclwUlh3t3ATWxQ_E3WXtB68KvyTjGhJAeD3rl4nesq-SqMYzYdifk7RkDRSbmaaY0kw9H8DNR-qj-/s400/1965uncle.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305359164631860130" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Batman</span></span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxdfgk1i8Vn82mzqgxbZWZL3OL4_az0i3xYIFuWlVC07qvmgZOkENpvL2slvOc_M0MbCyoSMnEp7AslDhVZ6kX4kAyf2yIYUvupB83WBiWxhVC5v1gsdC54fUjdHCHaM_X9ENmo7UScEk1/s1600-h/1966batman.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 257px; height: 366px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxdfgk1i8Vn82mzqgxbZWZL3OL4_az0i3xYIFuWlVC07qvmgZOkENpvL2slvOc_M0MbCyoSMnEp7AslDhVZ6kX4kAyf2yIYUvupB83WBiWxhVC5v1gsdC54fUjdHCHaM_X9ENmo7UScEk1/s400/1966batman.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305358994213263810" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Dark Shadows-never watched this but I sure know a lot of people that did. It had a cult-like following that included my formed MIL. She would race home from work to catch it.</span></span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWKK4Muyc9GENOGM_d2iGlg5T1o0q0OoOPes-71x8PfzL1zelhYYZoC7D4PeqfyReinhyFD5wPhhErjUgnDEVtXNapW5W3NpKec8BiwmlQyHhFw4COdq3P7Kue_cpTSmQ_CZK6lcEStsGA/s1600-h/1966darkshadows.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 239px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWKK4Muyc9GENOGM_d2iGlg5T1o0q0OoOPes-71x8PfzL1zelhYYZoC7D4PeqfyReinhyFD5wPhhErjUgnDEVtXNapW5W3NpKec8BiwmlQyHhFw4COdq3P7Kue_cpTSmQ_CZK6lcEStsGA/s400/1966darkshadows.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305358823183483426" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">The Dean Martin Show-still one of the funniest variety shows ever. I love to watch the video of them. I lived with a girlfriend, who worked nights, that would ask me to call her when he was on TV and sit the phone by the speaker so she could listen to it.</span></span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAYdktcGJcLlmcxjfdbrrFcZ0xkSjvgjkSvnNuNgxauqQd2QulcTj4gQaL_zLGSPrb-VMNt7-_Bh9Vk8FUoMXUb_kv0KqawaynfHKYleLJJkW-lVfiTXymT4naGOqE_JDKLRPVqAJbcXMO/s1600-h/1966tvguidedean.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 271px; height: 382px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAYdktcGJcLlmcxjfdbrrFcZ0xkSjvgjkSvnNuNgxauqQd2QulcTj4gQaL_zLGSPrb-VMNt7-_Bh9Vk8FUoMXUb_kv0KqawaynfHKYleLJJkW-lVfiTXymT4naGOqE_JDKLRPVqAJbcXMO/s400/1966tvguidedean.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305358669927756754" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Hey Hey, We're the Monkees.....</span></span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMOVzfeoaYr00r1uYFrZKGjiPcTc8fSNKG_Zo2hDVhuDvtee52pMSkXJjIbRJprMD7jBPqBisLB6aE7091PGeZA1JtzcBbh6lUtIs7LlhwBMe1M3hcsSpu8Z_SsbOmOEgyP_2hcx0kcAuJ/s1600-h/1967.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 273px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMOVzfeoaYr00r1uYFrZKGjiPcTc8fSNKG_Zo2hDVhuDvtee52pMSkXJjIbRJprMD7jBPqBisLB6aE7091PGeZA1JtzcBbh6lUtIs7LlhwBMe1M3hcsSpu8Z_SsbOmOEgyP_2hcx0kcAuJ/s400/1967.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305358501896990738" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">"Tonight we have a reallllly BIG Sheeewwww!" That was always the lead in. The Ed Sullivan Show ran from June 20, 1948 to June 6, 1971. It was on every</span><span style="font-family:verdana;"> Sunday night at 8 p.m., and is one of the few shows to have been run in the same time slot, weekly on the same network (CBS), for more than two decades. It was hosted by entertainment columnist Ed Sullivan.</span></span><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifwbIAL5G0krPqUwfwPRII5pVQdSAqo-LzfpKVqWyUre2SC78WWy43mLVN2tCHzWthULLuxTgwOCJSsnmbtr3ApFGaG8Ou173kPNYb-WydAX4Aeor1SVq-yd_KnanTD4LEsh24RUyeJSnz/s1600-h/1967edsullivan.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 333px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifwbIAL5G0krPqUwfwPRII5pVQdSAqo-LzfpKVqWyUre2SC78WWy43mLVN2tCHzWthULLuxTgwOCJSsnmbtr3ApFGaG8Ou173kPNYb-WydAX4Aeor1SVq-yd_KnanTD4LEsh24RUyeJSnz/s400/1967edsullivan.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305358292464713970" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Ironside-loved this show</span></span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRglolNNMO7EVuIfkHfFLs41Hc5zzU0wYcC2Bv0EMtSRiQGqr91gYpqo8gQoUAp0iEx6wp90zW5WL9Nfv4eMzPHn7DmJItDBCC-D0l7VzJP7vgWIojHKZBU8wHP2gu4QH8jINlPiAtNAUZ/s1600-h/1967ironside.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 195px; height: 252px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRglolNNMO7EVuIfkHfFLs41Hc5zzU0wYcC2Bv0EMtSRiQGqr91gYpqo8gQoUAp0iEx6wp90zW5WL9Nfv4eMzPHn7DmJItDBCC-D0l7VzJP7vgWIojHKZBU8wHP2gu4QH8jINlPiAtNAUZ/s400/1967ironside.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305358164981773090" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Star Trek-was not a Trekkie and never saw the show until it was canceled and they had all the marathons of all the shows. Probably the only reason I saw it then, I was dating a guy that loved this show. Oh, what we watch for love.</span></span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7BsSMZ26BuI55Az7CFIlOZnD7qz0qawShWwOroan0U_Dj1ZC-2WuIEWUnfqEHaQhFlI3VYmxGjFD6AQjIVEC7eIajeYT5JPOMfWt8OGEjeOqvMIgns-BhH2aWHvkudAXRuUF6y2kXCFYz/s1600-h/1967startreck.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 249px; height: 366px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7BsSMZ26BuI55Az7CFIlOZnD7qz0qawShWwOroan0U_Dj1ZC-2WuIEWUnfqEHaQhFlI3VYmxGjFD6AQjIVEC7eIajeYT5JPOMfWt8OGEjeOqvMIgns-BhH2aWHvkudAXRuUF6y2kXCFYz/s400/1967startreck.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305358046789097490" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Here Come The Brides-I had no idea the few times I watched this, that it was loosely based on a true story. Sixteen years ago I found out about Asa Mercer, who was a Seattle pioneer, that took a ship to the east coast to find Civil War widows. His idea was to help settle Seattle by providing brides for the rough and tumble loggers, miners, etc. He was accused of white slavery. He was quite misunderstood. I would love to write a fictional book based on the facts of this story.</span></span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmhjTpr3zfrm8XAW7nC_IdUPQTYfOYFhTL8d2MInRr86G8k4QmrnTrRaMUoQ3nE9S6QudNZuaF3Z3ddKp3-y6RPmlZSvi-Sg5BSF0XPakY2Z7riagX36nDxbzAmx-kk1uOjLigEMAiWNpE/s1600-h/1968herecomethebrides.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmhjTpr3zfrm8XAW7nC_IdUPQTYfOYFhTL8d2MInRr86G8k4QmrnTrRaMUoQ3nE9S6QudNZuaF3Z3ddKp3-y6RPmlZSvi-Sg5BSF0XPakY2Z7riagX36nDxbzAmx-kk1uOjLigEMAiWNpE/s400/1968herecomethebrides.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305357913665308002" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">MOD SQUAD-</span></span><b> </b><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">This television detective show was so indicative of its time While all crime drama shows incorporate ideas of their era, most could be made 'contemporary' with a few simple updates in fashion and technology. Not so with The Mod Squad. The show worked because of its clothes, its language, its attitudes and, of course, its timing. The shows topics, such as student unrest and anti-war statements could only have worked in the late 60s. The characters all had troubled pasts and they were unified to help the youth of that time.</span></span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHoUlcuHcKaE9vmiHn893kqI-Nq-jqmtASJ3um3WcgpfCuHLQtEU0WpkKSliKJQZGQ7MbO2TRGKPrA6B9e7nsNqAY3ku4wBjrJvDfcf6U9lGiaScPmkxGgGPIyVWUav2BhQ0Zbtc6g0M-1/s1600-h/1968modsquad.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 250px; height: 311px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHoUlcuHcKaE9vmiHn893kqI-Nq-jqmtASJ3um3WcgpfCuHLQtEU0WpkKSliKJQZGQ7MbO2TRGKPrA6B9e7nsNqAY3ku4wBjrJvDfcf6U9lGiaScPmkxGgGPIyVWUav2BhQ0Zbtc6g0M-1/s400/1968modsquad.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305357771968125842" border="0" /></a>P-Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13148217708832668431noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-532775452557508029.post-84649421240294475612009-02-16T00:46:00.000-08:002009-02-16T01:41:01.343-08:00REALLY OLD TV<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW1kL-fcvhaX0JUlzvGfzNtb5EFRXVL98jzpEZsekj2mgg7MylZbfWkIob_3S8icOAqFpFLqKbyEyORcVaKapoI8ZYNoTSFxRFWko0c3ffGRKmhawm59PibrYdW9U2SLXgEUoRNIYYzGGm/s1600-h/1949.jpg"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">ONE OF THE FIRST SHOWS I REMEMBER IS THE LONE RANGER AND TONTO....REMEMBER.....KIMOSABE...WAS THAT A REAL WORD?</span></span></span><br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 350px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW1kL-fcvhaX0JUlzvGfzNtb5EFRXVL98jzpEZsekj2mgg7MylZbfWkIob_3S8icOAqFpFLqKbyEyORcVaKapoI8ZYNoTSFxRFWko0c3ffGRKmhawm59PibrYdW9U2SLXgEUoRNIYYzGGm/s400/1949.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303317319301423874" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">HOPPY, WHO DIDN'T LOVE THIS GUY? I KNOW SOMEONE THAT FAINTED WHEN SHE MET HIM AND HE KISSED HER !!!! DON'T BELIEVE ME....MAKE A COMMENT JUDITH FF!!! TELL THE TRUTH AND SHAME THE DEVIL....</span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkrn_uRDE6wkqZX9pIw8e9Xt9vBBAD_GEeWfgA6BTEnPt52gw6164Lr5SuY5xRgm-CpmrHm7HYRWWl0RK0ffmHpDhyphenhyphenWJLvNLNblFvWXAU9k4GEpfwCsQyX7e0DIexEaB4hk80x8jNpxIAc/s1600-h/1949Hopalong.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 192px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkrn_uRDE6wkqZX9pIw8e9Xt9vBBAD_GEeWfgA6BTEnPt52gw6164Lr5SuY5xRgm-CpmrHm7HYRWWl0RK0ffmHpDhyphenhyphenWJLvNLNblFvWXAU9k4GEpfwCsQyX7e0DIexEaB4hk80x8jNpxIAc/s400/1949Hopalong.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303317193368951058" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">HOW COOL WERE THESE OLD TV'S!!! I REMEMBER THE FIRST ONE I SAW HAD A MAGNIFIED SCREEN THAT DROPPED DOWN SO YOU COULD SEE THE DARN THING</span></span>.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL3v9DwWGzejxhtEVKzpJ4_pD86nW0SaALLN8UJyMcU3LqL2IWxu1gJ6wsRtZx9toF99FL4m-3n01Hd71gAmxW7tuy-fhsiFUDu2zgmWVugCoOGDds02lmKLl2Vny8sWPIg41EHTvJTBco/s1600-h/1950zenith.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 260px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL3v9DwWGzejxhtEVKzpJ4_pD86nW0SaALLN8UJyMcU3LqL2IWxu1gJ6wsRtZx9toF99FL4m-3n01Hd71gAmxW7tuy-fhsiFUDu2zgmWVugCoOGDds02lmKLl2Vny8sWPIg41EHTvJTBco/s400/1950zenith.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303317043995173234" /></a><br /><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">THE FIRST SHOW I EVER SAW WAS LUCY! DON'T REMEMBER WHICH ONE BUT IT WAS DEFINITELY HER. MY MOM HAD LEFT ME WITH THE NEIGHBORS WHEN MY DAD DIED BECAUSE SHE FELT IT WOULD BE TOO HARD FOR ME TO GO TO HIS FUNERAL. WE WATCHED LUCY.</span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgodwQOGskxn96HR1aKGIK4wvrrbXHiHKQFDj9XodVgJuzjbaaerUvwzXXRIXdR7_RR_uMqnD6cK2DSm8CvTtwRvCPRw3o0uXrtbBm9JfUp74-GOEGcBzK5Hr38ZqLGFUhiDnW-AKX1SSBI/s1600-h/1951lucy.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 379px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgodwQOGskxn96HR1aKGIK4wvrrbXHiHKQFDj9XodVgJuzjbaaerUvwzXXRIXdR7_RR_uMqnD6cK2DSm8CvTtwRvCPRw3o0uXrtbBm9JfUp74-GOEGcBzK5Hr38ZqLGFUhiDnW-AKX1SSBI/s400/1951lucy.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303316839127968226" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">OUR MISS BROOKS WAS A BIG HIT!! DO YOU REMEMBER CORLIS ARCHER?</span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7wIC3sE6NPyMJR9Jul2T9Tbwftw5clWKJLg38QzAnQKr38tcZtynRjnJQYAwAsC_s1R1JEPLSgcXe3HKVOHXrC8issU2l_nMs-WdA8Y-c6kolsU9sLkgaoz1iz3WCX6tuYGVWuNTWH3vC/s1600-h/1953.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 274px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7wIC3sE6NPyMJR9Jul2T9Tbwftw5clWKJLg38QzAnQKr38tcZtynRjnJQYAwAsC_s1R1JEPLSgcXe3HKVOHXrC8issU2l_nMs-WdA8Y-c6kolsU9sLkgaoz1iz3WCX6tuYGVWuNTWH3vC/s400/1953.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303316701722066770" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">HERE IS ANOTHER BEHEMOUTH!!!</span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZxJBnAkPYeQSDeVUZQCzahHi2ftNZf8YbXzgEcmhuzb9ZZ0Xc6K5rkn6J7fnNA-Pfw6P8ydafjbUlAP1pfPUjXuB6Gn8OxX6fPATw6ggCraeEHVv1V1sM614vSRgAGWAfupWLjHjqGShJ/s1600-h/1954RCA.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 289px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZxJBnAkPYeQSDeVUZQCzahHi2ftNZf8YbXzgEcmhuzb9ZZ0Xc6K5rkn6J7fnNA-Pfw6P8ydafjbUlAP1pfPUjXuB6Gn8OxX6fPATw6ggCraeEHVv1V1sM614vSRgAGWAfupWLjHjqGShJ/s400/1954RCA.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303316508238442354" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">PHIL SILVERS WAS AN ICON OF THE TIMES.</span></span>...<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">AND EVEN AS A KID HE IRRITATED ME TO DEATH.</span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFLu7ehkVprydiHpmFpUPLOEhQMwRO0EwjXGSnBEo-5sB5nRRR-uilz2th5slqiVVAitys1qvdf_OPT-dF1Ddyyed-kGoo-PqX4OpzQwoa3h5oAfb9i4nOB5C8tjFYmEUEqEiLLOkM6XqS/s1600-h/1955.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 273px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFLu7ehkVprydiHpmFpUPLOEhQMwRO0EwjXGSnBEo-5sB5nRRR-uilz2th5slqiVVAitys1qvdf_OPT-dF1Ddyyed-kGoo-PqX4OpzQwoa3h5oAfb9i4nOB5C8tjFYmEUEqEiLLOkM6XqS/s400/1955.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303316365779376546" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">AND THE CAPTAIN....YES, CAPTAIN KANGAROO AND MR. GREEN JEANS....LOVED IT.</span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTFEuJ7nYVz67YLBv_7JHki3-AxJoe_0BR6JslRJAyw6V0UronitUZ8-V5774B0jmr4ZQbh6a8rpqDx-3mBEHz1gquidKo0xvD1AULk0LvQTwW3l4XQ3I9V1Ls24mCj4357mof0r7gVeSj/s1600-h/1955captkangeroo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 317px; height: 246px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTFEuJ7nYVz67YLBv_7JHki3-AxJoe_0BR6JslRJAyw6V0UronitUZ8-V5774B0jmr4ZQbh6a8rpqDx-3mBEHz1gquidKo0xvD1AULk0LvQTwW3l4XQ3I9V1Ls24mCj4357mof0r7gVeSj/s400/1955captkangeroo.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303316236903773730" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">MY ALL TIME FAVORITE.....YES, I KNOW NOW THAT IT WAS UNREAL, BUT I LOVED IT THEN AND STILL DO....BUD....CALL ME!!!</span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX9KgLRZk3_j5-GE_kapmH8AT0rXS5FkTv7bogzrInD3hR3aYGZ53WdBfunCIVgP6PmtHyhQsis31Kvqj5ulMP0jfE2aL1qXqPIm0I6U9vbnFk26k1XK386epoPFFB-9R4gXgfk8q9IOR0/s1600-h/1955fatherknowsbest.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 379px; height: 299px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX9KgLRZk3_j5-GE_kapmH8AT0rXS5FkTv7bogzrInD3hR3aYGZ53WdBfunCIVgP6PmtHyhQsis31Kvqj5ulMP0jfE2aL1qXqPIm0I6U9vbnFk26k1XK386epoPFFB-9R4gXgfk8q9IOR0/s400/1955fatherknowsbest.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303316118493440962" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">'IT'S HOWDY DOODY TIME, IT'S HOWDY DOODY TIME.......COME ON LET'S START THE SHOW, COME ON KIDS, LET'S GO.......THUMP YOUR MAGIC TWANGER FROGGY,GOINNNNNG........ HI YA KIDS, HI YA, HI HA....."</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:verdana;font-size:18px;">"I'M BUSTER BROWN, I LIVE IN A SHOE, THAT'S MY DOG TIGE, HE LIVES THERE TOO." MY FIRST 'KIDS SHOW' AND I REMEMBER ALL THE WORDS.<br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7uYNZB2zxbX6D0pZ1ynY4QWZ7m0ZgCwleaqfsaPGZbGXSVImQS8zPpn90z_e0hR8jfqJR7nXOF-kPPdeCmrCzUOKvzBZtW6WKMu_bOop_6J1ku-xY0F-Q-4TNK-QleLtVVZQhclPon9Mx/s1600-h/1955howdydoody.jpg"><br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 315px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7uYNZB2zxbX6D0pZ1ynY4QWZ7m0ZgCwleaqfsaPGZbGXSVImQS8zPpn90z_e0hR8jfqJR7nXOF-kPPdeCmrCzUOKvzBZtW6WKMu_bOop_6J1ku-xY0F-Q-4TNK-QleLtVVZQhclPon9Mx/s400/1955howdydoody.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303315922463071554" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">SARGENT PRESTON OF THE YUKON AND HIS DOG KING......</span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaIqCjKPH7Jxq-ShnZi_BqR4aQ-TfiKtGiDCOA4h3J7JJkqg1bHwv9QdsjGhKBNVD6BOm2FEyKyJmuB9HDpTEHvMccDYG9B5edEMeCZ0jzjoILIIAxS24Fpl5YoH-3b0XGPmQqbAqFKCJz/s1600-h/1955sgtprestonandking.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 239px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaIqCjKPH7Jxq-ShnZi_BqR4aQ-TfiKtGiDCOA4h3J7JJkqg1bHwv9QdsjGhKBNVD6BOm2FEyKyJmuB9HDpTEHvMccDYG9B5edEMeCZ0jzjoILIIAxS24Fpl5YoH-3b0XGPmQqbAqFKCJz/s400/1955sgtprestonandking.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303315719264083106" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">MIC...see u real soon, KEY, why, because we love you...M-O-U-S-E.....DID WE LOVE ANNETTE!!</span></span>!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrwRTAaJ_cwtWxaRWQ18oOCaXF2H6VbYvBPQhcwHR7aDBd0nwImr6CCBclbKg3L-zRvLYxjJ7zHYkFf7NjiUFt-4Lxny1FPRc3u_dJryiFfkmDDwlp0OLypKobrY5LglgA69mXG2lSYqo6/s1600-h/1956mousekateers.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 182px; height: 252px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrwRTAaJ_cwtWxaRWQ18oOCaXF2H6VbYvBPQhcwHR7aDBd0nwImr6CCBclbKg3L-zRvLYxjJ7zHYkFf7NjiUFt-4Lxny1FPRc3u_dJryiFfkmDDwlp0OLypKobrY5LglgA69mXG2lSYqo6/s400/1956mousekateers.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303315566297301170" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">OUT OF THE NIGHT, WHEN THE FULL MOON WAS BRIGHT, CAME A HORSE MAN KNOWN AS ZORRO...........</span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXuIhLjIgz_sMOTxfErwq1uEo0wQdOq6DhW3MI6MCx52hgMZjFCCWT1WmU2-3VtJY3Ov5PMnMgLeoOx5XWLhHOcba_Hm59h5gNx91tWLECC07rT5NgeKVOEfYrnEeLTqKknjD2Yj8tJq9B/s1600-h/1957zorro.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 333px; height: 378px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXuIhLjIgz_sMOTxfErwq1uEo0wQdOq6DhW3MI6MCx52hgMZjFCCWT1WmU2-3VtJY3Ov5PMnMgLeoOx5XWLhHOcba_Hm59h5gNx91tWLECC07rT5NgeKVOEfYrnEeLTqKknjD2Yj8tJq9B/s400/1957zorro.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303315422742041970" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">IS TIMMY IN THE WELL, LASSIE? WHO ELSE WANTED A DOG LIKE LASSIE?</span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz96RxQsUup4wkYXH2YGwplxyxTJbfE8pp2qNnd08TQd4tQzFpSUuI_XSNUsZ2uJzy6isD0OYjHa2IAg39rCH41w7DXXp-nReCcMCKMm5njtwKR5iYh2iKBJn6AKJfzpBiEeNtZ3bb4_MW/s1600-h/1958.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 315px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz96RxQsUup4wkYXH2YGwplxyxTJbfE8pp2qNnd08TQd4tQzFpSUuI_XSNUsZ2uJzy6isD0OYjHa2IAg39rCH41w7DXXp-nReCcMCKMm5njtwKR5iYh2iKBJn6AKJfzpBiEeNtZ3bb4_MW/s400/1958.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303315272037281266" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">CHUCK CONNERS IN THE RIFLEMAN....LOVED THIS SHOW!!!</span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK0lGHPPlk3rKgo5Q4F2lNBo0QBlddcXwHzi70wwwPnzZLK-yGsDZ3ixdASvW5BPzit0R-UhoGQuOwgtYtfMj6ifNalILIc7tZxdTcnhKMN1VfkSMTQy_0hKDQtUqRL-o68qo35G5iKpb8/s1600-h/1958rifleman.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 290px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK0lGHPPlk3rKgo5Q4F2lNBo0QBlddcXwHzi70wwwPnzZLK-yGsDZ3ixdASvW5BPzit0R-UhoGQuOwgtYtfMj6ifNalILIc7tZxdTcnhKMN1VfkSMTQy_0hKDQtUqRL-o68qo35G5iKpb8/s400/1958rifleman.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303315119766984066" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">LLOYD BRIDGES IN SEAHUNT....AQUATIC ADVENTURE AT ITS FINEST (FOR THAT TIME) NOW WE HAVE BAY WATCH....HAHA!!!</span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRJrjDVfl-xaMPsR6fae4mWWBlT2LolE6hNc_B14mDXW_CZI6YkaM21NYSprXA6xQRtTwGjkqWVr_YklKhkooRaRBDeXC9TPmSDpNIUL2NmW7y8Y7dn9RU4mSshHMo_alTXUYC1vuzzsVY/s1600-h/1958seahunt.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 272px; height: 346px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRJrjDVfl-xaMPsR6fae4mWWBlT2LolE6hNc_B14mDXW_CZI6YkaM21NYSprXA6xQRtTwGjkqWVr_YklKhkooRaRBDeXC9TPmSDpNIUL2NmW7y8Y7dn9RU4mSshHMo_alTXUYC1vuzzsVY/s400/1958seahunt.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303314958188242786" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">WANTED, DEAD OR ALIVE!!! STEVE MC QUEEN, THE FIRST REBEL WITHOUT A CLUE!</span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijMXl3GWmNax029Hp628y_JVB2J9ER9qbT7h9_CdtyUFcvgIz1pVnh7SoEi2o31OIre9Gp-c-MoYvOPNOCNM-GEh4-Nkrj7u-g59by5CtqbHsh6HOQ55LFhoJvjcu40YeFXgJs2d7JWzBB/s1600-h/1958wanteddeadoralive.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 317px; height: 378px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijMXl3GWmNax029Hp628y_JVB2J9ER9qbT7h9_CdtyUFcvgIz1pVnh7SoEi2o31OIre9Gp-c-MoYvOPNOCNM-GEh4-Nkrj7u-g59by5CtqbHsh6HOQ55LFhoJvjcu40YeFXgJs2d7JWzBB/s400/1958wanteddeadoralive.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303314808522179714" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">MY MOM DID THE MOST AMAZING IMPRESSION OF WALTER BRENNEN AS GRANDPA MC COY...DO YOU REMEMBER HIM HOBBLING ALONG AND TALKING TO LUKE IN THAT WEIRD VIBRATO VOICE OF HIS?</span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNrBIoM2QLC6DdRMvkejhJHgfyaUBGcPDwaKR8uD4QheJqF_qMDFm51luxuzmM0YbnHT5Sf3Vj3wRWSrNVrWqMAQDTkp-nDQzCeh3qV3GJj1kFLvB7ZQUYjwYDEUuHx0H0ulCJ6EWVH5A3/s1600-h/1959.jpg"><br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 273px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNrBIoM2QLC6DdRMvkejhJHgfyaUBGcPDwaKR8uD4QheJqF_qMDFm51luxuzmM0YbnHT5Sf3Vj3wRWSrNVrWqMAQDTkp-nDQzCeh3qV3GJj1kFLvB7ZQUYjwYDEUuHx0H0ulCJ6EWVH5A3/s400/1959.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303314640152678466" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">THE BEAVE.....SUCH A WEIRD LITTLE BOY AND SUCH A HUGE SHOW A</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">BOUT HIM. AS FAR AS I WAS CONCERNED THE ONLY <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">REAL</span> CHARACTER IN THIS SHOW WAS EDDIE.....</span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiknaNl37bET075AxK2keWZ4RV7K_4gwKy0-G57B5B54QxRAkVD5cYwOvwH14bySD9aY2JOirufHRe5k0NtBTPMg8VNTqq2ZNgPKj2YYeRAaGOeYvp1MxgAUkkLbZ5H8cThBwXVY4sf873p/s1600-h/1959beaver.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 250px; height: 336px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiknaNl37bET075AxK2keWZ4RV7K_4gwKy0-G57B5B54QxRAkVD5cYwOvwH14bySD9aY2JOirufHRe5k0NtBTPMg8VNTqq2ZNgPKj2YYeRAaGOeYvp1MxgAUkkLbZ5H8cThBwXVY4sf873p/s400/1959beaver.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303314485606124354" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">I LOVED THE MAVERICK BROTHERS...JAMES GARNER MADE MY HEART GO PITTY PAT</span></span>! <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">HE STILL DOES BUT IT MUST BE ALL THE AGE SPOTS...HA HA</span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi30wqILHZN6X0ULKCLZ1V4VlZtRCGvZqX-eDUcPRvo_LILomYI_sCfDPcxF8lkYXqrBGGGYaTel7VvE0eK21957qWBQaW91QpZlD0HXBa41Lh4NStk778qnm_3nGE2Q-UeyvthkIBsbvVD/s1600-h/1959maverickbros.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 254px; height: 246px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi30wqILHZN6X0ULKCLZ1V4VlZtRCGvZqX-eDUcPRvo_LILomYI_sCfDPcxF8lkYXqrBGGGYaTel7VvE0eK21957qWBQaW91QpZlD0HXBa41Lh4NStk778qnm_3nGE2Q-UeyvthkIBsbvVD/s400/1959maverickbros.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303314317383155346" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">DONCHA JUST LOVE CLINT.....HE JUST GOES ON FOREVER!!! HE IS A HUNDRED YEARS OLDER THAN DIRT AND STILL A BOX OFFICE HIT. HE WAS SUCH A HOTTIE IN RAWHIDE.....NOW HE'S A WRINKLED OLD PRUNE. BUT THEN SO AM I....</span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFj7rCr8s9Lz_LwIaKG57XK2OwpotirdL3eu15f6P3ciGeAjBPRIg4R6PGt4RO16GdEUcrh6frVQWNzu13l1exJcql-fl4gMiiosuFhdfczl3UxQYXi1_3vk6gYjUPPnHG_a9M_GvToPSR/s1600-h/1959rawhide.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 317px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFj7rCr8s9Lz_LwIaKG57XK2OwpotirdL3eu15f6P3ciGeAjBPRIg4R6PGt4RO16GdEUcrh6frVQWNzu13l1exJcql-fl4gMiiosuFhdfczl3UxQYXi1_3vk6gYjUPPnHG_a9M_GvToPSR/s400/1959rawhide.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303314136003273122" /></a><br /></div>P-Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13148217708832668431noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-532775452557508029.post-76514935439083295222009-02-08T01:22:00.000-08:002009-02-08T01:34:16.253-08:00Speaking of Girlfriends....<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSRoBhGI-syX0NdPf1ZYT-FhaaBnSXLSQGwjNVlv20asogcplvv5b70zdCdLQfwpKZZBEe_lx3EMwyV7W41lGBgPvf8YyJixu1KrEXtM5KRyL5pL5AcFw5QKmAHDlrl7FXBlL6nFyCmraQ/s1600-h/PC180564.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300357405646637554" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSRoBhGI-syX0NdPf1ZYT-FhaaBnSXLSQGwjNVlv20asogcplvv5b70zdCdLQfwpKZZBEe_lx3EMwyV7W41lGBgPvf8YyJixu1KrEXtM5KRyL5pL5AcFw5QKmAHDlrl7FXBlL6nFyCmraQ/s320/PC180564.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div>Attebettyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15920437248597221802noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-532775452557508029.post-51617370300658223802009-02-06T12:16:00.000-08:002009-02-06T12:20:48.355-08:00What would we do without our girlfriends?<span style="font-size:130%;"><a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi35YSLVwen69OFpWDqdCCMKy-5-9WxLZ2H0oRzJ28AqUnU36NXsnPMsCYohNPe5qN4P18QMW-wGl_fhCWLUp1_XWpfpmk84GHJdTlG72wmTlO56NhJKkC0-Q1yADB4MfgsVIQXUJVxVzJt/s1600-h/girlfriends.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 262px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi35YSLVwen69OFpWDqdCCMKy-5-9WxLZ2H0oRzJ28AqUnU36NXsnPMsCYohNPe5qN4P18QMW-wGl_fhCWLUp1_XWpfpmk84GHJdTlG72wmTlO56NhJKkC0-Q1yADB4MfgsVIQXUJVxVzJt/s400/girlfriends.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299781025478706978" border="0" /></a><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">What's so poignant about this picture? Well, it shows a line of little girls holding hands facing the immensity of ocean waves.</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Alone they might be washed away, but together they stand strong. </span></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Thank you for holding my hand somewhere along the way when I was facing a wave of my own.</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I hope you will reach for my hand when your own wave threatens.</span></span><br /></div><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">All of us girls..</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Old and young...</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Near and far...</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Hold special memories of good times we've shared. </span></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">We've had our share of hard times when our friends were there to make us feel better.</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">We've shared...</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">our hearts</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">our time</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">our secrets</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">our fears</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">our hopes</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">and our dreams. </span></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Let us never break the chain of friends!<br /><br /></span></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Thanks Joybelle for sending this to me.</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span></span></div><br /></div><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span>P-Dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13148217708832668431noreply@blogger.com0