The Old Folks Home

Quote:
I feel old when my knee or back starts acting up....

I still wonder who that old guy in the mirror is and who are those senior citizens at the high school reunions?
LOL! I tell my kids that I can do everything that I could do when I was twenty, just not without pain. :eek:)
 
How it looks today
700


I painted yesterday. Just the door, which used to look horrid. Looks oodles better now.

Before:

700
 
Quote:

Wasnt dads dynamite... it belonged to the Orchard owner. Dads dad... My grandpa was a sharecropper who with the family worked their way from Florida to Orange County California. This is where dad went to high school. They worked Sections of land at a time.

deb

Here's something else we have in common, Deb. My Dad's Dad was a sharecropper here in Alabama. My Dad was born in a house with no electricity and no running water. It had a dirt floor. He was one of thirteen children and the youngest boy.

Back then, the school bus routes were contracted out to individuals. My Dad's first paying job was to get up before daylight and meet the bus driver before his route started. Dad would sit on the floor and hold the gear shifter. He started just holding it in gear once they were at speed (sometimes it would jump out of gear if it wasn't held), but eventually, he was trusted to shift the gears, as well. For this, he was paid a nickel a week, which he gave to his momma to help with expenses.

Dad was six.
 
I feel old when my knee or back starts acting up....

I still wonder who that old guy in the mirror is and who are those senior citizens at the high school reunions?
I feel old when my knee or back starts acting up....

I still wonder who that old guy in the mirror is and who are those senior citizens at the high school reunions?


Ron, I did notice a lot of old folks at my 50th High School reunion in June. I am sure some of them were from the class of 54. I know that most oof them were older than I am.
 
Quote:
Wasnt dads dynamite... it belonged to the Orchard owner. Dads dad... My grandpa was a sharecropper who with the family worked their way from Florida to Orange County California. This is where dad went to high school. They worked Sections of land at a time.

deb

Here's something else we have in common, Deb. My Dad's Dad was a sharecropper here in Alabama. My Dad was born in a house with no electricity and no running water. It had a dirt floor. He was one of thirteen children and the youngest boy.

Back then, the school bus routes were contracted out to individuals. My Dad's first paying job was to get up before daylight and meet the bus driver before his route started. Dad would sit on the floor and hold the gear shifter. He started just holding it in gear once they were at speed (sometimes it would jump out of gear if it wasn't held), but eventually, he was trusted to shift the gears, as well. For this, he was paid a nickel a week, which he gave to his momma to help with expenses.

Dad was six.

Dads sisters pretty much raised him. When they were out in the fields picking cotton they would throw him with his bottle on the Cotton bag while they dragged it through the rows. His bottle was a coke bottle with one of those nipples pulled down over the top. His sisters worked the farm dad was a change of life baby... But he had his chores like the rest.... grandmas job was to butcher and clean chickens enough to feed the migrant workers... Between asthma attacks she would fry up enough chicken to feed twenty five hands at harvest time.

So they had the farm to run as well as the truck farm to feed the family to tend...

deb
 

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