Many of us have reached that foreign soil called "Midlife". It's taken a long time to get here but we made it. We woke up one morning and noticed that our bodies have started to slump, our posture left town and many of us have scales in our bathroom that are scared every time we step in the room. We then make a decision to lose the weight or tighten up our muscles. Both endeavors will be very painful but well worth it. Then there are those friends that disgust you. I have several of those friends. One of those guys is a classmate of mine that lives in Wisconsin. Dean shares with us on Face Book after he runs daily and works out. He runs Marathons and from what I can tell he is in better shape now than he was 30 years ago in high school. He shares recipes of healthy meals and is a fantastic inspiration. Then there is another classmate who recently became a grandmother of a cute little girl named Samantha. My classmate Vee works out with a trainer and swings something called a "Kettlebell". It looks like a small cannonball with a handle carved in it. Seems like the Kettlebell has replaced the last great exercise thingy. Past excercise thingys are the Thigh Master, the rubber hose with a stirrup on each end, the big rubber ball and last but never forgotten the machine you stood on and wrapped a wide belt around your hips then you turn it on and it shook the pounds away!
As for myself I felt my age just the other day for the first time. I was eating my healthy breakfast and all of a sudden my left elbow had sharp pains in it and it throbbed for several minutes. I looked at my elbow and said "What the heck was that all about" My elbow said "Hey Dude it's not my fault, you're the one that's gonna be 50 in July." I realized that this was my first "Old Age Pain". I added an extra set of reps to my bench press. I refuse to go into the night quietly! I've heard about all the remedies for all these pains and aches from putting WD-40 on your joints to drinking weird concoctions from a berry found in the depths of the Amazon. I think Dean and Vee found the best answer and that is hard work. I do a lot of Praying and talking with God. I wake and thank him for another chance. He knows I have a very, very low tolerance for pain and I keep him busy as I work out. Well, time to do my morning workout. Until next time, make sure you pick up WD-40 and Bengay. Watch out for those Kettlebells! Go on now, get at it!
Stan The Ramblin Man
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Can't Sleep Skippy?
Can't Sleep Skippy?
Well, here we go again people. It was a good day, got a lot accomplished, felt real good about how things went. I eat my supper and knew that I was gonna get my weekly visit from cousin Roger. We sit for an hour and a half every Wednesday, chewin the fat, watchin the History or Discovery Channel, or talkin about his latest Trout fishin adventures. This week I finished my supper about five fifteen. Roger usually shows up at six thirty so I had time for a short nap. I felt a sharp pain in my right middle finger only to wake to my nurse checking my blood sugar. She walked out of my dark room lit only by my television and I heard a deep voice say "Howdy". I then remembered I was waitin on Roger. he had been sittin there an hour watchin the news. I would feel bad about it but there have been those nights that he would snore most of the time he was here. I tell you all this to let you know what happens later.
I usually talk to my friend Sandy late in the evening and then try to go to sleep. On a night when I get a short nap in like I had when Roger was here I end up wide awake. No Sandy and I can get into discussions that will go late into the night and time fly's by which ain't so bad. On those nights like tonight it's a whole other story!
I fell asleep for an hour after the news tonight. I awoke refreshed and feelin fine. Later Sandy and I talked about several subjects, sometimes I think we try to out talk each other. Anyway, about two thirty she goes to sleep and I check my email. I lay down, turn on my favorite itunes radio station (Classic Rock of course) and I turn all the lights off. You would think that would do it, but noooo! I lay there thinkin what to do to go to sleep so I start playin my favorite golf course in my head. I played Blair Park in High Point, North Carolina so much I have the entire course memorized. After 9 holes I know this ain't gonna work. I was already 5 over par and lost one golf ball.
I then try to sing with the tunes on the radio. When the nursing staff runs to your room wanting to know what's the matter it's time to quit trying to sing! Yes, my door was shut and yes, it was that bad. I decided that it was time to play Spider Solitaire. Why it's called Spider I ain't got no clue. I played several games and still no Sandman. It's now 5:30 am and I think I will start callin names listed in my cell phone and see who's awake! Hope your last name don't start with "A"! Until next time, keep yer days and nights in the right order and turn yer ringer off at night for that next call at 4:00 am could be me!!!
Stan the Ramblin Man
Well, here we go again people. It was a good day, got a lot accomplished, felt real good about how things went. I eat my supper and knew that I was gonna get my weekly visit from cousin Roger. We sit for an hour and a half every Wednesday, chewin the fat, watchin the History or Discovery Channel, or talkin about his latest Trout fishin adventures. This week I finished my supper about five fifteen. Roger usually shows up at six thirty so I had time for a short nap. I felt a sharp pain in my right middle finger only to wake to my nurse checking my blood sugar. She walked out of my dark room lit only by my television and I heard a deep voice say "Howdy". I then remembered I was waitin on Roger. he had been sittin there an hour watchin the news. I would feel bad about it but there have been those nights that he would snore most of the time he was here. I tell you all this to let you know what happens later.
I usually talk to my friend Sandy late in the evening and then try to go to sleep. On a night when I get a short nap in like I had when Roger was here I end up wide awake. No Sandy and I can get into discussions that will go late into the night and time fly's by which ain't so bad. On those nights like tonight it's a whole other story!
I fell asleep for an hour after the news tonight. I awoke refreshed and feelin fine. Later Sandy and I talked about several subjects, sometimes I think we try to out talk each other. Anyway, about two thirty she goes to sleep and I check my email. I lay down, turn on my favorite itunes radio station (Classic Rock of course) and I turn all the lights off. You would think that would do it, but noooo! I lay there thinkin what to do to go to sleep so I start playin my favorite golf course in my head. I played Blair Park in High Point, North Carolina so much I have the entire course memorized. After 9 holes I know this ain't gonna work. I was already 5 over par and lost one golf ball.
I then try to sing with the tunes on the radio. When the nursing staff runs to your room wanting to know what's the matter it's time to quit trying to sing! Yes, my door was shut and yes, it was that bad. I decided that it was time to play Spider Solitaire. Why it's called Spider I ain't got no clue. I played several games and still no Sandman. It's now 5:30 am and I think I will start callin names listed in my cell phone and see who's awake! Hope your last name don't start with "A"! Until next time, keep yer days and nights in the right order and turn yer ringer off at night for that next call at 4:00 am could be me!!!
Stan the Ramblin Man
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Signs from God
Today I was thinkin about the little things we use to do as kids that were a little crazy. We would walk across pipelines that were 30 feet above a rocky creek bed. We would ride our bikes off a small hill hoping to land just right. There were those things that brought about a lot of pain once we missed. Those times were learning experiences. Seems like there always that instant before we ran and grabbed the vine that in our mind something yelled "STOP"! We ignored it of course and ended up on our back or our face one. After the dust would settle I would remember that moment and wonder why I didn't listen. Over the years I have slowed down on the attempt to become a human Crash Test Dummy. I still have heard that voice in my head at times. I hear it right before saying something I shouldn't have and I know instantly that I should have listened. I call these signs from God.
He loves us and wants to protect us from ourselves at times. I know some of you are a little skeptical and that's ok. He has other ways to get your attention. There are those of us that are a little hard headed and God needs to use not so subtle signs. He will put someone in front of you that you need to help or someone that's there to help you with a situation. I once was traveling down the highway in my old truck and at about 70 miles per hour the left rear wheel came off the truck. I was riding alone and the radio wasn't working at the time. My instinct was to slam on the brake. As soon as the wheel came off I heard in a normal voice "Do not touch the brake". I finally listened and rode on the hub of the axle about a mile before coming to a stop on the side of the road. I thought about the situation and realized that as I was fishtailing down the road if I had pushed the brake the truck would have turned sideways and I would have rolled in front of the Car Carrier that was behind me and all the traffic. I knew it was the voice of either a Guardian Angel or God himself.
A friend of mine has been bombarded with things that point to a certain place that is dear to her heart. She is praying for God's guidance in the matter. It can be about any situation that he points the way. God nudged me several times to join a place called Facebook. I was not too impressed with a chat community and avoided it. He kept sending me nudges until I took a look at it. Now I have renewed friendships with hundreds of old friends. God doesn't force us to do things, he puts gives us a nudge and we decide if we want to listen or not. That's when you are running as fast as you can and grab that vine to swing out over the creek, you might wanna take a second to think "Did I hear God yelling STOP?" before committing to the jump. As they say "Hindsight is 20/20". Of course as a kid I thought that meant someone had good vision out of their hind end. I know, I know I should have listened before I wrote that last sentence, but I bet some of you folks thought the same thing.
My brother and I went snow skiing once. He had never been before and this was my second or third time. I wanted to show my little brother how good his bro was. I got to the top of the hill and pointed both skis towards the bottom of the hill. I pushed off and looked like one of those Olympic Ski Jumpers. I got to what seemed 80 miles per hour and forgot to use my skis to slowdown. My right ski hit a mogul(small bump) and I ended up launching in the air. My head went into the fresh powder and stayed as my body continued to flip over. I lay there not wanting to move cause I just knew I broke every bone in my body. A couple of guys from the Ski Patrol stopped with a basket to lay me in but I was determined to walk. That was a bad choice by the way. I got to the bottom of the hill and sat on a bail of hay. Looked up and saw my little brother taking off his skis on top of the hill. When he got down to me I asked why didn't he ski down. He said "God has always told me to watch you and do the opposite." I was a sign from God for my brother, a sore sign though. We need to try and listen to God a little more so he won't have to keep writing on billboards. Until next time keep your ears and heart open so you can see the signs God is giving you.
Stan the Ramblin Man
He loves us and wants to protect us from ourselves at times. I know some of you are a little skeptical and that's ok. He has other ways to get your attention. There are those of us that are a little hard headed and God needs to use not so subtle signs. He will put someone in front of you that you need to help or someone that's there to help you with a situation. I once was traveling down the highway in my old truck and at about 70 miles per hour the left rear wheel came off the truck. I was riding alone and the radio wasn't working at the time. My instinct was to slam on the brake. As soon as the wheel came off I heard in a normal voice "Do not touch the brake". I finally listened and rode on the hub of the axle about a mile before coming to a stop on the side of the road. I thought about the situation and realized that as I was fishtailing down the road if I had pushed the brake the truck would have turned sideways and I would have rolled in front of the Car Carrier that was behind me and all the traffic. I knew it was the voice of either a Guardian Angel or God himself.
A friend of mine has been bombarded with things that point to a certain place that is dear to her heart. She is praying for God's guidance in the matter. It can be about any situation that he points the way. God nudged me several times to join a place called Facebook. I was not too impressed with a chat community and avoided it. He kept sending me nudges until I took a look at it. Now I have renewed friendships with hundreds of old friends. God doesn't force us to do things, he puts gives us a nudge and we decide if we want to listen or not. That's when you are running as fast as you can and grab that vine to swing out over the creek, you might wanna take a second to think "Did I hear God yelling STOP?" before committing to the jump. As they say "Hindsight is 20/20". Of course as a kid I thought that meant someone had good vision out of their hind end. I know, I know I should have listened before I wrote that last sentence, but I bet some of you folks thought the same thing.
My brother and I went snow skiing once. He had never been before and this was my second or third time. I wanted to show my little brother how good his bro was. I got to the top of the hill and pointed both skis towards the bottom of the hill. I pushed off and looked like one of those Olympic Ski Jumpers. I got to what seemed 80 miles per hour and forgot to use my skis to slowdown. My right ski hit a mogul(small bump) and I ended up launching in the air. My head went into the fresh powder and stayed as my body continued to flip over. I lay there not wanting to move cause I just knew I broke every bone in my body. A couple of guys from the Ski Patrol stopped with a basket to lay me in but I was determined to walk. That was a bad choice by the way. I got to the bottom of the hill and sat on a bail of hay. Looked up and saw my little brother taking off his skis on top of the hill. When he got down to me I asked why didn't he ski down. He said "God has always told me to watch you and do the opposite." I was a sign from God for my brother, a sore sign though. We need to try and listen to God a little more so he won't have to keep writing on billboards. Until next time keep your ears and heart open so you can see the signs God is giving you.
Stan the Ramblin Man
Monday, January 4, 2010
Listen Love and Laugh
It's that time again, time for a Ramblin. It's been a while since our last chapter and time for a new one. I see life as a book at times and inside the book are chapters of our life. Some chapters are good and some not so good. I try to find humor in everything. I figure when times are hard and we feel beat down we just need a good laugh to bring us around. I get my sense of humor from my Mom's side of the family. Her sister Clara and I had a special bond when it come to humor. We thought just alike. Something would make us laugh our heads off while everyone else missed it completely. We all have a tad bit of a smartelic or what I call funny sarcasm in our bones also. I get that from my Dad and his father. One weekend a good friend of mine named Al Carver and I went to the mountains to galivant and campout. We stopped by the nursing home my Grandfather Ernest Hoyle was in for a visit. While sittin in his room I wanted to strike up a conversation with him so I thought long and hard. I inquired as to where his inlaws were buried. The conversation went like this..."Are the Murphy's all buried in that cemetery up on the Seven Mile Ridge in Celo?" I asked. He replied, "I reckon so seein how their all dead". My buddy Al about hurt himself laughin and said, "Yep, that's Lee Hoyle's Dad."
It's been an eye opening year for me. It's ok to have a grandson but to all of a sudden have two? I keep remembering what my Grandparents looked like when my brother was born and then I look in the mirror and keep watchin for my hair to turn white. I also have so many friends from high school that are becoming Grandparents. It just doesn't seem right for these gals that you use to flirt with at school becoming a Granny or a Mawmaw and they don't look like one either. I think it's cause we don't dress like our Grandparents did in a way. Time has moved on for some schoolmates as they have gone on to be with the Lord and I kick myself for not being in touch with them more. Friends are our extended family. We need to let our friends know more how much they mean to us. Jesus taught us to love one another and especially others that we have problems with. It is hard sometimes and almost seems impossible but if ya just think about all the time your wasting being angry then why not reconcile? As our society and lives get faster and faster with technology we need to take time to love each other. Even if it's just a random phone call or visit to say "Hey friend I love ya." then we need to do it. I enjoy listening to folks talk about their lives and what makes them happy. It always raises my "Happiness" thermometer to hear someone talk about their new neice, nephew, grandchild or the Wii they got for Christmas. Remeber the three "L's" Listen, Love and Laugh. Until next time talk amongst yerselves!
Stan the Ramblin Man
It's been an eye opening year for me. It's ok to have a grandson but to all of a sudden have two? I keep remembering what my Grandparents looked like when my brother was born and then I look in the mirror and keep watchin for my hair to turn white. I also have so many friends from high school that are becoming Grandparents. It just doesn't seem right for these gals that you use to flirt with at school becoming a Granny or a Mawmaw and they don't look like one either. I think it's cause we don't dress like our Grandparents did in a way. Time has moved on for some schoolmates as they have gone on to be with the Lord and I kick myself for not being in touch with them more. Friends are our extended family. We need to let our friends know more how much they mean to us. Jesus taught us to love one another and especially others that we have problems with. It is hard sometimes and almost seems impossible but if ya just think about all the time your wasting being angry then why not reconcile? As our society and lives get faster and faster with technology we need to take time to love each other. Even if it's just a random phone call or visit to say "Hey friend I love ya." then we need to do it. I enjoy listening to folks talk about their lives and what makes them happy. It always raises my "Happiness" thermometer to hear someone talk about their new neice, nephew, grandchild or the Wii they got for Christmas. Remeber the three "L's" Listen, Love and Laugh. Until next time talk amongst yerselves!
Stan the Ramblin Man
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Christ Like
Earlier this week I heard a question on the television that got me to thinkin.
"What are one of the ways we can be Christ Like?" I got to thinkin and while
doing so the phone rang and it was good old Mom. Listenin in on one of our phone
conversations could confuse Confucius. We go from here to there and a
little of everywhere. Well just out of the blue she asked me "Where does
Vinegar come from?" I was caught off guard and had no clue. I said I think
it must come from a vine with the first three letters being "VIN". So I told
her that I would Google it and find out later. She said she had to go to Hospice
for some volunteer work and told me to email her the answer. I went to good
old Wikopedia for the answer and this is it....
"Vinegar is made from the oxidation of ethanol by acetic acid bacteria. The
ethanol may be derived from many different sources including wine, cider, beer
or fermented fruit juice, or it may be made synthetically from natural gas and
petroleum derivatives[3].
Commercial vinegar is produced either by fast or slow fermentation processes.
Slow methods generally are used with traditional vinegars and fermentation
proceeds slowly over the course of weeks or months. The longer fermentation
period allows for the accumulation of a nontoxic slime composed of acetic acid
bacteria and soluble cellulose, known as the mother of vinegar."
Mom wrote back......
Thank you very much. I had a very sudden burst of energy yesterday to clean the
inside and outside of my bedroom windows. My mama always said use a little
vinegar in your rinse water to make your windows shine- I remembered her advise
and sure enough - did the trick. Unknowingly, dipping my hands in the vinegar
water did something else - cleaned my rings to a brilliant shine. Even the
tiniest diamonds in my ring blinged blinged. So there - its good to remember
Mama's advice. Maybe that's why the nontoxic slime is known as the "mother" in
vinegar. Something to think about. Have a good day - I'm off to the cycle
class then to Hospice to take my negative TB test to them and maybe take care of
some laundry while I'm there. PS- Nancy said she uses vinegar in her mop water
for her hardwood floors. By the way, I don't suggest putting your hands in the
mop water just to clean your jewelry."
Mom is a Volunteer at Hospice and goes over a couple of days a week to help out. She
loves going over to see "her ladies". As you can see when we get into a conversation it can
go in any direction at anytime. That's when I learn something about her usually that I never
knew or something about our family tree. From what I can tell our tree is full of volunteers
that go way back. People that serve their fellow man and do it whole heartedly. It is evident
on both side of my family tree. They do it without regards to fame or fortune. Sometimes
giving their life in the process. That my friends is what we call being Christ like. To think
of others before yourself and that is something to be proud of as I am. So to ancestors
who fought in wars bravely like the one written about by Elizabeth Rucker in her book
"History of the Hoyle Family" written in 1933-
"Lieutenant John Hoyle, fought the
Cherokee Indians before the Revolutionary War and thus gained his title of Lieutenant.
He was a young man and always fought with Col. Hambright before and during the Revolutionary War.
The consensus of opinion was, among the older generations, that Lieutenant John Hoyle was on the
northern side of Kings Mountain with Colonel Hambright's men."
to my Mom who stays busy with Hospice and Church functions and my Brother John who gave
so much time to helping young men learn in the Boy Scouts of America through Troop 160 in
Thomasville, To the whole Sudderth clan in Montezuma, North Carolina tucked away in the
beautiful mountains who are volunteer firemen, paramedics and rescue personnel. My cousin
Roger Byrd who drives out of the way to sit with me and talk about life once a week after
he gets off from work,
I want to thank you for helping to make me a better person and being Christ Like by
giving of yourselves. Well until next time get ya some vinager and shine yer bling bling.
Stan the Ramblin Man
"What are one of the ways we can be Christ Like?" I got to thinkin and while
doing so the phone rang and it was good old Mom. Listenin in on one of our phone
conversations could confuse Confucius. We go from here to there and a
little of everywhere. Well just out of the blue she asked me "Where does
Vinegar come from?" I was caught off guard and had no clue. I said I think
it must come from a vine with the first three letters being "VIN". So I told
her that I would Google it and find out later. She said she had to go to Hospice
for some volunteer work and told me to email her the answer. I went to good
old Wikopedia for the answer and this is it....
"Vinegar is made from the oxidation of ethanol by acetic acid bacteria. The
ethanol may be derived from many different sources including wine, cider, beer
or fermented fruit juice, or it may be made synthetically from natural gas and
petroleum derivatives[3].
Commercial vinegar is produced either by fast or slow fermentation processes.
Slow methods generally are used with traditional vinegars and fermentation
proceeds slowly over the course of weeks or months. The longer fermentation
period allows for the accumulation of a nontoxic slime composed of acetic acid
bacteria and soluble cellulose, known as the mother of vinegar."
Mom wrote back......
Thank you very much. I had a very sudden burst of energy yesterday to clean the
inside and outside of my bedroom windows. My mama always said use a little
vinegar in your rinse water to make your windows shine- I remembered her advise
and sure enough - did the trick. Unknowingly, dipping my hands in the vinegar
water did something else - cleaned my rings to a brilliant shine. Even the
tiniest diamonds in my ring blinged blinged. So there - its good to remember
Mama's advice. Maybe that's why the nontoxic slime is known as the "mother" in
vinegar. Something to think about. Have a good day - I'm off to the cycle
class then to Hospice to take my negative TB test to them and maybe take care of
some laundry while I'm there. PS- Nancy said she uses vinegar in her mop water
for her hardwood floors. By the way, I don't suggest putting your hands in the
mop water just to clean your jewelry."
Mom is a Volunteer at Hospice and goes over a couple of days a week to help out. She
loves going over to see "her ladies". As you can see when we get into a conversation it can
go in any direction at anytime. That's when I learn something about her usually that I never
knew or something about our family tree. From what I can tell our tree is full of volunteers
that go way back. People that serve their fellow man and do it whole heartedly. It is evident
on both side of my family tree. They do it without regards to fame or fortune. Sometimes
giving their life in the process. That my friends is what we call being Christ like. To think
of others before yourself and that is something to be proud of as I am. So to ancestors
who fought in wars bravely like the one written about by Elizabeth Rucker in her book
"History of the Hoyle Family" written in 1933-
"Lieutenant John Hoyle, fought the
Cherokee Indians before the Revolutionary War and thus gained his title of Lieutenant.
He was a young man and always fought with Col. Hambright before and during the Revolutionary War.
The consensus of opinion was, among the older generations, that Lieutenant John Hoyle was on the
northern side of Kings Mountain with Colonel Hambright's men."
to my Mom who stays busy with Hospice and Church functions and my Brother John who gave
so much time to helping young men learn in the Boy Scouts of America through Troop 160 in
Thomasville, To the whole Sudderth clan in Montezuma, North Carolina tucked away in the
beautiful mountains who are volunteer firemen, paramedics and rescue personnel. My cousin
Roger Byrd who drives out of the way to sit with me and talk about life once a week after
he gets off from work,
I want to thank you for helping to make me a better person and being Christ Like by
giving of yourselves. Well until next time get ya some vinager and shine yer bling bling.
Stan the Ramblin Man
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Cuzzin Larry
I come from a large family of fine folks. My mother's side of the family is laced with many different characters. One such character is Cousin Larry. Now we are goin back in time a little while to when I was just a youngen. Our family would leave Charlotte on a Friday afternoon and travel to Montezuma in the High Country of the North Carolina mountains. Montezuma is located between Linville and Newland at the foot of Grandfather Mountain. Larry and I share a God given gift of Gab. We can talk the bark off a tree and tell you stories that sound unreal but are so true. I believe this tale tellin ability is a Sudderth trait much like my right pinky that won't completely lay flat. My mother and my Uncle Felton have the same pinky. When I was just a little feller I remember visitin my grandparents Lloyd and Belle Sudderth. Two of the finest people you'll ever know, God rest their soul. Their son Clyde and his wife Bernice lived next door. Larry was uncle Clyde and aunt Bernice's son and he is a few years older than me.
I would take the worn path between the two homes and of course stop to get water out of the old hand pump that was between the houses. I would go to see what Cousin Larry was doin. He would be watchin a movie with uncle Clyde or a football game and I would hang out with the guys while eatin on one of the many treats that aunt Bernice always had cooked up during the day.
Saturdays were usually a little slow to start cause as most kids back then, I was up early on a saturday mornin and was out helpin Pawpaw Lloyd feed his beagles or piling up rotten apples for him at the back of the yard. I would run down to aunt Kate's apartment visit with her as she sat on her porch havin her coffee and cigarette. I thought teenagers were lazy cause it would be late in the mornin before aunt Kate's daughter Pam would be finally waking up so I would go with Larry to Mrs. Price's store and would get me a Brownie chocolate drink and a bag of penny candy.
One fine day Larry was talkin to cousin Dwight. Now, cousin Dwight is my mom's sister Thelma's boy and he also is older than me. Dwight or as he is called now "Sparkie" cause he is an electrician, always looked like a cowboy to me. He has that moustache and looks like he rode in on a horse. I reckon it was the way he always dressed. That particular day they were talkin about weed and how people were smokin it. I wanted in on the action and told em I wanted some weed to smoke. Well, they knew a good opportunity when they saw one. They told me that we had plenty of weed we could smoke. We then went behind Pawpaw's house and we collected some Rabbit Tobbacco or as we call it Rabbit Bacca. They rolled it in some smokin paper and made me the pertiest cigarette you ever seen. Remember I was around 6 or 7 at this time and I huffed and puffed on that Rabbit Bacca till I turned gray. I then proceeded to cough my darn head off. I am not sure who was cryin the hardest between the two of them for laughin so hard. I felt like a Yankee at a Snipe Hunt. I just knew they were tellin the truth cause when Cousin Dick Parker (Aunt Kate's boy) told me to chew Rabbit Bacca it tasted horrible so it must of been for smokin! I reckon I art to thank them boys for playin a trick on me cause I ain't never wanted to smoke any weed since. I only have mentioned a few of my cousins that have been a big influence in my life.
The one that continues to amaze me with his humor and love of his family is Cuzzin Larry. He and I both have a part of our Grandfather's DNA that I see as a blessing. Some people you know are mechanics, doctors, bus drivers and all kinds of jobs that those folks are good at and that's all they ever do. Larry isn't one of those folks. He is a man of many talents. I remember as a teenager getting a chance to spend the night with Larry at the Linville Fire and Rescue Squad as it was his turn to be on call. I just thought that was the greatest thing. He has tried a little bit of everything such as Construction, Deputy Sheriff, Newspaper Delivery man, volunteer fireman/rescue, now weather and traffic reporter for downtown Montezuma as he has been sidelined by his ticker sputterin. For many years Larry has put together the physical structure for the Grandfather Mtn. Highland Games and run the security detail also. That's a huge job in itself and people from all over the world have admired his work in which he has help from his wife Diane, his son Levin, his daughter Mindy and a whole bunch of brother's, cousins and friends. Larry is one of those guys that will stand in the background but truth be told he is a hero to many. Until next time be wary of smokin anything that Larry and Sparkie roll for ya and drive slow through Montezuma so you don't cause any traffic problems.
Stan the Ramblin Man
I would take the worn path between the two homes and of course stop to get water out of the old hand pump that was between the houses. I would go to see what Cousin Larry was doin. He would be watchin a movie with uncle Clyde or a football game and I would hang out with the guys while eatin on one of the many treats that aunt Bernice always had cooked up during the day.
Saturdays were usually a little slow to start cause as most kids back then, I was up early on a saturday mornin and was out helpin Pawpaw Lloyd feed his beagles or piling up rotten apples for him at the back of the yard. I would run down to aunt Kate's apartment visit with her as she sat on her porch havin her coffee and cigarette. I thought teenagers were lazy cause it would be late in the mornin before aunt Kate's daughter Pam would be finally waking up so I would go with Larry to Mrs. Price's store and would get me a Brownie chocolate drink and a bag of penny candy.
One fine day Larry was talkin to cousin Dwight. Now, cousin Dwight is my mom's sister Thelma's boy and he also is older than me. Dwight or as he is called now "Sparkie" cause he is an electrician, always looked like a cowboy to me. He has that moustache and looks like he rode in on a horse. I reckon it was the way he always dressed. That particular day they were talkin about weed and how people were smokin it. I wanted in on the action and told em I wanted some weed to smoke. Well, they knew a good opportunity when they saw one. They told me that we had plenty of weed we could smoke. We then went behind Pawpaw's house and we collected some Rabbit Tobbacco or as we call it Rabbit Bacca. They rolled it in some smokin paper and made me the pertiest cigarette you ever seen. Remember I was around 6 or 7 at this time and I huffed and puffed on that Rabbit Bacca till I turned gray. I then proceeded to cough my darn head off. I am not sure who was cryin the hardest between the two of them for laughin so hard. I felt like a Yankee at a Snipe Hunt. I just knew they were tellin the truth cause when Cousin Dick Parker (Aunt Kate's boy) told me to chew Rabbit Bacca it tasted horrible so it must of been for smokin! I reckon I art to thank them boys for playin a trick on me cause I ain't never wanted to smoke any weed since. I only have mentioned a few of my cousins that have been a big influence in my life.
The one that continues to amaze me with his humor and love of his family is Cuzzin Larry. He and I both have a part of our Grandfather's DNA that I see as a blessing. Some people you know are mechanics, doctors, bus drivers and all kinds of jobs that those folks are good at and that's all they ever do. Larry isn't one of those folks. He is a man of many talents. I remember as a teenager getting a chance to spend the night with Larry at the Linville Fire and Rescue Squad as it was his turn to be on call. I just thought that was the greatest thing. He has tried a little bit of everything such as Construction, Deputy Sheriff, Newspaper Delivery man, volunteer fireman/rescue, now weather and traffic reporter for downtown Montezuma as he has been sidelined by his ticker sputterin. For many years Larry has put together the physical structure for the Grandfather Mtn. Highland Games and run the security detail also. That's a huge job in itself and people from all over the world have admired his work in which he has help from his wife Diane, his son Levin, his daughter Mindy and a whole bunch of brother's, cousins and friends. Larry is one of those guys that will stand in the background but truth be told he is a hero to many. Until next time be wary of smokin anything that Larry and Sparkie roll for ya and drive slow through Montezuma so you don't cause any traffic problems.
Stan the Ramblin Man
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Gone to the beach!
The roads heading East are worn by all the summer time beach goers. The chaos builds as Dad packs the car, Mom has him unpack it to put just one more thing in the suitcase and the kids are electrified in excitement. Time for the trip to Emerald Isle. We traveled with a bus load of kids from the Baptist Orphanage where my parents were House parents. We would get the bus the night before so we could load it and be ready to pull out at 5 am. We would be so excited as our cottage and another would combine for the trip down. After leaving we would travel in the cool morning air until we got just past Raleigh and then the air turned warm. When we got to Kinston on Hwy 70 we would stop for lunch at the sister orphanage. We would eat the prepared sandwiches and drinks chilled in ice coolers. After lunch the boys and men would go to the huge farm of the orphanage and pick watermelons, corn and any other resource we could find and fill the back of the bus. It usually consisted of 10 watermelons and 20 cantaloupes and several bushels of corn. Off we would go watching the farms go by until there it was on the horizon, that beautiful white bridge that took us across the Bogue Sound and to Emerald Isle. The anticipation was almost more than we could bare.
We would arrive at a huge cottage built in the 50's as a coastal home for the Orphanages across the state. I is nestled in Live Oaks among the sand dunes and only a few feet from the Bogue Sound. We would unload and worked as a team to get all the corn and melons into the kitchen. I remember there was an Ice Machine that would produce soft flake ice. It was great with sweet tea. We had great times walking across the street to the Indian Beach Pier and watching fishermen catch all sorts of fish from King Mackerel to Sand Sharks. Every summer the home came with a lifeguard that stayed all summer so we could swim in the ocean. One year my brother got that job. I really enjoyed hanging out with him some that summer. The Bogue Sound was not as dangerous as long as you wore shoes to keep your feet from getting cut by the mussels and clams or the occasional curious crab. The water in the sound was only knee deep mostly and stayed that way for a couple of miles until you crossed the Inter coastal Waterway. We would take day trips to the State Aquarium at Pine Knoll Shores and to Fort Macon at the end of the Island. Our favorite activity was going to Atlantic Beach to the Carnival in the Triangle. There were bumper cars, swinging cages, and all the other thrill rides. We spent our hard earned chore money there and at one of the Islands Putt Putt Courses. In Pine Knoll Shores there was one of the first water slides I had ever seen and we would always spend half a day there.
The cottage seemed like a second home after several years of staying there. I can still hear the back screen doors slamming as kids would go out back to wither fish, swim or ride in a boat for a while. We all had to try our hand at sailing with the Sunfish Sailboat the cottage had. Many of us were not so successful as others. There were two islands the were about a mile from the cottage that were about an acre in size. Usually a group would get together and take boats, rafts, inner tubes and some just walked as we would travel to those islands. Once we arrived back an afternoon nap was needed by all. We always had devotions each night prior to bedtime and our leaders would take the time to really speak to us kids about God's commitment to us and ours to him. Sometime a few of us would head over to the pier for late night fishing. I remember one night we spent the night on the pier just because we thought it would be fun. IF we were there on a Sunday we would all dress in our church clothes and go to the Methodist Church in Salter Path. Yeah, I know we were Baptist but that was the only church near by. The other churches were all the way in Morehead City and that was just too far. My father really liked the Pastor of the church in Salter Path and he appreciated us coming to worship.
We would head out one afternoon to Beaufort and walk the docks. When it was suppertime we always ended up at Capt. Bills on the docks of Morehead City. My favorite was the Sanitary Restaurant just a few doors down but it was a little more pricey. We would go there on our last night and fill up on fried flounder. drum, hushpuppies, and that sweet iced tea. That night we would pack up the bus again and leave the next morning after cleaning the cottage to the liking of my staff Sergeant father. Most of the time we would pass another busload of kids on the way to the beach as we were headed home. Of course we would stop in Kinston again to raid the orphanages farm. We would arrive home and I would add another Bert's Surf Shop sticker to my foot locker. I had one on my school bus that I drove also. Those memories of Emerald Isle are vivid in my mind. For those who have been I am sure they know what I mean. all good memories with the exception of a few such as the Thanksgiving weekend that our family stayed at the cottage and Mom invited my college sweetheart. Things went arye and I broke up with what I now know was my soul mate. Well, that's a whole other book which I am writing. I do miss Emerald Isle and will one day return to smell that sea air. Until next time, put on plenty of Coppertone and watch out for those nasty sand spurs!
Stan the Ramblin Man
We would arrive at a huge cottage built in the 50's as a coastal home for the Orphanages across the state. I is nestled in Live Oaks among the sand dunes and only a few feet from the Bogue Sound. We would unload and worked as a team to get all the corn and melons into the kitchen. I remember there was an Ice Machine that would produce soft flake ice. It was great with sweet tea. We had great times walking across the street to the Indian Beach Pier and watching fishermen catch all sorts of fish from King Mackerel to Sand Sharks. Every summer the home came with a lifeguard that stayed all summer so we could swim in the ocean. One year my brother got that job. I really enjoyed hanging out with him some that summer. The Bogue Sound was not as dangerous as long as you wore shoes to keep your feet from getting cut by the mussels and clams or the occasional curious crab. The water in the sound was only knee deep mostly and stayed that way for a couple of miles until you crossed the Inter coastal Waterway. We would take day trips to the State Aquarium at Pine Knoll Shores and to Fort Macon at the end of the Island. Our favorite activity was going to Atlantic Beach to the Carnival in the Triangle. There were bumper cars, swinging cages, and all the other thrill rides. We spent our hard earned chore money there and at one of the Islands Putt Putt Courses. In Pine Knoll Shores there was one of the first water slides I had ever seen and we would always spend half a day there.
The cottage seemed like a second home after several years of staying there. I can still hear the back screen doors slamming as kids would go out back to wither fish, swim or ride in a boat for a while. We all had to try our hand at sailing with the Sunfish Sailboat the cottage had. Many of us were not so successful as others. There were two islands the were about a mile from the cottage that were about an acre in size. Usually a group would get together and take boats, rafts, inner tubes and some just walked as we would travel to those islands. Once we arrived back an afternoon nap was needed by all. We always had devotions each night prior to bedtime and our leaders would take the time to really speak to us kids about God's commitment to us and ours to him. Sometime a few of us would head over to the pier for late night fishing. I remember one night we spent the night on the pier just because we thought it would be fun. IF we were there on a Sunday we would all dress in our church clothes and go to the Methodist Church in Salter Path. Yeah, I know we were Baptist but that was the only church near by. The other churches were all the way in Morehead City and that was just too far. My father really liked the Pastor of the church in Salter Path and he appreciated us coming to worship.
We would head out one afternoon to Beaufort and walk the docks. When it was suppertime we always ended up at Capt. Bills on the docks of Morehead City. My favorite was the Sanitary Restaurant just a few doors down but it was a little more pricey. We would go there on our last night and fill up on fried flounder. drum, hushpuppies, and that sweet iced tea. That night we would pack up the bus again and leave the next morning after cleaning the cottage to the liking of my staff Sergeant father. Most of the time we would pass another busload of kids on the way to the beach as we were headed home. Of course we would stop in Kinston again to raid the orphanages farm. We would arrive home and I would add another Bert's Surf Shop sticker to my foot locker. I had one on my school bus that I drove also. Those memories of Emerald Isle are vivid in my mind. For those who have been I am sure they know what I mean. all good memories with the exception of a few such as the Thanksgiving weekend that our family stayed at the cottage and Mom invited my college sweetheart. Things went arye and I broke up with what I now know was my soul mate. Well, that's a whole other book which I am writing. I do miss Emerald Isle and will one day return to smell that sea air. Until next time, put on plenty of Coppertone and watch out for those nasty sand spurs!
Stan the Ramblin Man
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