snake, ole buddy.....! I wouldn't be out of line with you for anything in the world, and you know that. We have a connection that only 1 or 2 more of us here have, so with that in mind I gotta question for you!
The last few Posts that you have made, well, it just doesn't sound like YOU! The sentence structure and punctuation are tooooo good! Are you composing what you write and putting commas where they belong on your own? Or? Guess I'm probably wrong....usually am....guess some of my old Navy tact just kicked in and it shouldn't have :rotflmao::rotflmao::rotflmao::rotflmao:
Minor correction, Gene- - - -Coke came in 6 OZ bottles, RC was 10 OZ for the same cost, a nickel. I remember when Dad modified the Coke machine coin box at our shop to take 6 cents instead of a nickel to vend a 6 OZ Coke, and people griped about it! That was sometime around 1958, IIRC.
Jerry
snake, ole buddy.....! I wouldn't be out of line with you for anything in the world, and you know that. We have a connection that only 1 or 2 more of us here have, so with that in mind I gotta question for you!
The last few Posts that you have made, well, it just doesn't sound like YOU! The sentence structure and punctuation are tooooo good! Are you composing what you write and putting commas where they belong on your own? Or? Guess I'm probably wrong....usually am....guess some of my old Navy tact just kicked in and it shouldn't have :rotflmao::rotflmao::rotflmao::rotflmao:
He's channeling Sam!!
-Zorba, "The Veiled Male"
"If you get it and didn't work for it, someone else worked for it and didn't get it..."
Minor correction, Gene- - - -Coke came in 6 OZ bottles, RC was 10 OZ for the same cost, a nickel. I remember when Dad modified the Coke machine coin box at our shop to take 6 cents instead of a nickel to vend a 6 OZ Coke, and people griped about it! That was sometime around 1958, IIRC.
Jerry
Actually................6 1/2 oz.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil: For I carry a .308 and not a .270
All you 'true southerners' forgot to mention pork chop sandwiches (or rib sandwiches), accompanied by cream soda or root beer. And don't forget sweet potato pie, squirrel and dumplings, mountain oysters and sweetbreads, or fish gravy.
Pork chop (or rib) sandwiches seem counter-intuitive, since most folks picture breaking a tooth on the bone. In reality, it is the perfect way to eat a pork chop. Obviously, you gnaw around the bone and finish up with nothing but a clean bone in your hand, and the bread negates the need for a napkin to wipe your greasy hands with. Try it - you'll like it for those leftovers you snatch out of the 'ice box' in the middle of the night.
I reckon you missed this little feller :jester: in my post. As Foghorn Leghorn would say, "It's a joke, son, it's a joke!" :roll2:
When I was growing up my Mom and Dad always put out a HUGE garden and a lot of canning went on putting up stuff in Mason jars. The taters were buried in sawdust in the root cellar to keep through the winter. I've strung my share of green beans, and shelled lots of green beans too big to break, and pinto beans, and various kinds of peas for canning. And shucking, desilking, and cutting corn off the cob for canning. It was all hands on deck when canning time rolled around.
Favorite time of year was hog and steer killin' in the fall. I got to stir the fat to make lard in the big old cast iron cauldron. Cracklin bread for a while was good stuff.
I grew up in a farming community 18 miles outside town with dairies, beef cattle farms, and everybody had a big garden for growing their own food. Flour, salt and spices were what was mostly store bought. We raised a big field of corn for making corn meal; as soon as I was big enough to turn the crank on the corn sheller, I got a workout shelling out a couple of burlap bags full to take to the grist mill for grinding into cornmeal. First ground meal (once through the grinder) was for making 'dog bread' for the hounds, and twice ground was for human consumption.
No, I knew you were joking and I was making a blind stab at joking back.
My parents weren't farmers not even close, although my dad was raised in the country on a saw mill his dad owned. But we moved to Seadrift Texas here in Calhoun Co. on the coast in 1955 when I was in the first grade. My mother was basically a city girl, being born and raised in Austin, our State Capital. But she got a quick education because even if you live in town in Seadrift, you're still in the country. She had been coming to Seadrift all her life because my great grandparents owned a hotel on the Bay Front. My great grandfather was the baptist preacher and he also had cattle and chickens and pigs and he was quite the cowboy they tell me. All the men in the community back then would help each other in the community working their cows. My mother loved to go down to Ms. Violet Dowda's house. Mrs. Dowda was quite a gardner too. Her son was my mother's first boy friend back in the 30s. However, he was killed in a B-17 over Germany. Well my mother had already met and married my dad by that time. But Mrs. Dowda introduced my mother to the world of gardning and canning. As I said, Mrs. Dowda raised her own small garden at her house in town, but she would take my mother out to Mr. Louie Walker's farm and you picked what you needed and you paid him for the vegetables. It was cheap though and we ate good off Mr. Louie's garden. Louie Walker's farm was located 6 miles north of town close to the Long Mott Settlement. That's as close to gardening as my parents got, least wise since I've been around. Of course, my dad was raised around all that and had to participate in all those countrified activities whether he wanted to or not. He used to tell me "The Good Old Days" are Now!!! As a kid when he wasn't helping can vegetables or butchering hogs, he was doing od jobs in the sawmill. Gardening wasn't his strong suit..
Daddy, what's an enabler?
Son that's somebody with nothing to do with his time but keep me in trouble with mom.
Minor correction, Gene- - - -Coke came in 6 OZ bottles, RC was 10 OZ for the same cost, a nickel. I remember when Dad modified the Coke machine coin box at our shop to take 6 cents instead of a nickel to vend a 6 OZ Coke, and people griped about it! That was sometime around 1958, IIRC.
Jerry
ime
Hey, I remember that. I remember everybody complaining over a penny. then a couple years later it went to a dime but it got bigger too.
Daddy, what's an enabler?
Son that's somebody with nothing to do with his time but keep me in trouble with mom.
Replies
The last few Posts that you have made, well, it just doesn't sound like YOU! The sentence structure and punctuation are tooooo good! Are you composing what you write and putting commas where they belong on your own? Or? Guess I'm probably wrong....usually am....guess some of my old Navy tact just kicked in and it shouldn't have :rotflmao::rotflmao::rotflmao::rotflmao:
Jerry
He's channeling Sam!!
You should try one fresh made at The Mecca................ http://www.bobandtominfo.com/audioFiles/Bob_Tom_CD_Catalog/Shut_Up_Randy/One_Tank_Trips-Gatlinburg.mp3
And a lot of the flour sacks had a dish rag sewn to the top......where you pulled out a thread, to open the sack.
I will fear no evil: For I carry a .308 and not a .270
Actually................6 1/2 oz.
I will fear no evil: For I carry a .308 and not a .270
Pork chop (or rib) sandwiches seem counter-intuitive, since most folks picture breaking a tooth on the bone. In reality, it is the perfect way to eat a pork chop. Obviously, you gnaw around the bone and finish up with nothing but a clean bone in your hand, and the bread negates the need for a napkin to wipe your greasy hands with. Try it - you'll like it for those leftovers you snatch out of the 'ice box' in the middle of the night.
Battered women :uhm: All this time I've been eating mine plain :drool:
I like dumplings, but sardines are OK, too, occasionally.
No, I knew you were joking and I was making a blind stab at joking back.
My parents weren't farmers not even close, although my dad was raised in the country on a saw mill his dad owned. But we moved to Seadrift Texas here in Calhoun Co. on the coast in 1955 when I was in the first grade. My mother was basically a city girl, being born and raised in Austin, our State Capital. But she got a quick education because even if you live in town in Seadrift, you're still in the country. She had been coming to Seadrift all her life because my great grandparents owned a hotel on the Bay Front. My great grandfather was the baptist preacher and he also had cattle and chickens and pigs and he was quite the cowboy they tell me. All the men in the community back then would help each other in the community working their cows. My mother loved to go down to Ms. Violet Dowda's house. Mrs. Dowda was quite a gardner too. Her son was my mother's first boy friend back in the 30s. However, he was killed in a B-17 over Germany. Well my mother had already met and married my dad by that time. But Mrs. Dowda introduced my mother to the world of gardning and canning. As I said, Mrs. Dowda raised her own small garden at her house in town, but she would take my mother out to Mr. Louie Walker's farm and you picked what you needed and you paid him for the vegetables. It was cheap though and we ate good off Mr. Louie's garden. Louie Walker's farm was located 6 miles north of town close to the Long Mott Settlement. That's as close to gardening as my parents got, least wise since I've been around. Of course, my dad was raised around all that and had to participate in all those countrified activities whether he wanted to or not. He used to tell me "The Good Old Days" are Now!!! As a kid when he wasn't helping can vegetables or butchering hogs, he was doing od jobs in the sawmill. Gardening wasn't his strong suit..
Son that's somebody with nothing to do with his time but keep me in trouble with mom.
Hey, I remember that. I remember everybody complaining over a penny. then a couple years later it went to a dime but it got bigger too.
Son that's somebody with nothing to do with his time but keep me in trouble with mom.