A little girl called
Hi all:
Configuring a machine today, so rather then watch the laptop do it's thing. I decided to write a note to my granddaughter
Received a phone call from the little girl last night who wanted to know if I missed our old house since we moved away. My answer was “not really” as a house is a house and home is where ever you make it. I didn't find out later her question came up because her daddy and mommy are looking to move to a bigger house. In her mind she will miss her house as it is the only one she has lived in.
In a way she is right, because I still remember things about my first house, but only bits and pieces. It was a big house to me, and what I remember of the layout, would be a puzzle to draw. The kitchen was huge, the shower/bath unknown. There was a hallway I think, but even with a second story, I could not tell you where the stairs was located. Maybe I was never up there, I just don't remember.
The one thing I do remember that is as vivid as when it happen, was a birthday party. I received a play gun and holster on that great day. I remember playing around the dining table, but nothing else. Funny how memory only includes the little things.
Anyway back to the little girl. Today when I went to coffee, this topic was the last thing on my mind. But when I went back for a refill, I looked out the window and a large flock of geese were landing out in the old clay pits area. I stood there watching and thought about how much fun it was to sit out back or better yet, drive out into the country when the birds migrated. There was a huge marsh to the south of where we lived and of course a large lake to the north. This put us in the middle of a bird migration path. At times there would be birds flapping their wings in ever direction. There would be so many, you wondered how they could possible gather enough feed to make the trip. But it was something to see.
As the birds landed, I thought back to the little girl and her question. So mommy, when you read this, please call her over and tell her that, Yes Grandpa does miss the house, but more important I miss her, her family and everything that happened around her.
By the way here is a joke. Believe it or not, I heard it on the old TV show western called The Rifleman.
A cowboy was standing on a porch with his wife. The rifleman was on his horse. The cowboy asked the Rifleman what month of the year women talk the least. This question stumped "The Rifleman" and he shook his head in a negative fashion. Then the cowboy grinned and stated “February”
I did a double take and laughed out loud. Censorship was big when that show was on and I was surprised to hear a joke which had a little bit of amale chauvinistic hint to it.
And for you that didn't get it, the month is February.
Configuring a machine today, so rather then watch the laptop do it's thing. I decided to write a note to my granddaughter
Received a phone call from the little girl last night who wanted to know if I missed our old house since we moved away. My answer was “not really” as a house is a house and home is where ever you make it. I didn't find out later her question came up because her daddy and mommy are looking to move to a bigger house. In her mind she will miss her house as it is the only one she has lived in.
In a way she is right, because I still remember things about my first house, but only bits and pieces. It was a big house to me, and what I remember of the layout, would be a puzzle to draw. The kitchen was huge, the shower/bath unknown. There was a hallway I think, but even with a second story, I could not tell you where the stairs was located. Maybe I was never up there, I just don't remember.
The one thing I do remember that is as vivid as when it happen, was a birthday party. I received a play gun and holster on that great day. I remember playing around the dining table, but nothing else. Funny how memory only includes the little things.
Anyway back to the little girl. Today when I went to coffee, this topic was the last thing on my mind. But when I went back for a refill, I looked out the window and a large flock of geese were landing out in the old clay pits area. I stood there watching and thought about how much fun it was to sit out back or better yet, drive out into the country when the birds migrated. There was a huge marsh to the south of where we lived and of course a large lake to the north. This put us in the middle of a bird migration path. At times there would be birds flapping their wings in ever direction. There would be so many, you wondered how they could possible gather enough feed to make the trip. But it was something to see.
As the birds landed, I thought back to the little girl and her question. So mommy, when you read this, please call her over and tell her that, Yes Grandpa does miss the house, but more important I miss her, her family and everything that happened around her.
By the way here is a joke. Believe it or not, I heard it on the old TV show western called The Rifleman.
A cowboy was standing on a porch with his wife. The rifleman was on his horse. The cowboy asked the Rifleman what month of the year women talk the least. This question stumped "The Rifleman" and he shook his head in a negative fashion. Then the cowboy grinned and stated “February”
I did a double take and laughed out loud. Censorship was big when that show was on and I was surprised to hear a joke which had a little bit of amale chauvinistic hint to it.
And for you that didn't get it, the month is February.
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