Monday, October 24, 1955 to Sunday, October 24, 1965
My mother said I was a wampus cat. What a wampus cat is exactly, I can't tell you, and I doubt if Mom could either, but there you have it. A wampus cat. It brings to mind some sort of wild animal, like a bobcat or panther maybe. A wild animal isn't me, though, but wampus sounds kind like whopper, and to my ears it also brings to mind big. Maybe that early conditioning is why I still fight the battle of the bulge today. After all, if I'm a wampus cat, I must be big. Nothing like starting on the old self concept a little young. Bu ...continued...
Monday, October 24, 1960 to Sunday, October 24, 1965
Being only about five years old at the time, I don't have alot of memories of the times before TVs came into my life, although I find myself more and more in the minority in that I can remember the preTV days at all. I forget myself sometimes and don't feel my age, but the young bloods jolt me back to reality with comments such as "What was it like before you had shows to entertain you like the gold digger shows or Pawn Stars?" Quips like this make me realize we weren't really missing all that much.Or could it be I was only five at the time and just ...continued...
Friday, October 24, 2003 to Friday, October 24, 2014
One of my chief delights in the warm months is watching the hummingbirds that flock to our feeder. They cluster around the feeder, competing for the nectar it provides, swapping out places at the feeding stations. They're always pretty competitive, even if there are only two at the feeder at the time. I wonder that they don't get hurt as they dive down at each other. The competitiveness rivals that of ten year old boys on the playground, only the hummers are in a fight for life-sustaining resources instead of the top of the climbing bars. Sometimes I count as many as ten or fifte ...continued...
Sunday, October 24, 1965 to Monday, October 24, 1966
Watch Out For Bears
Read any literature from Yellowstone National Park today and you’ll find all sorts of warnings about feeding the bears or otherwise interfering with their normal beary kinds of activities. Occasionally you may see in the news a sad story about some unwary hiker, or worse a tale of some misguided nature nut who thought he could commune with the wild beasts, who gets mauled by a bear. People know, for the most part, anyway, that they need to stay out of the bear’s comfort zone. Which is why I just can’t under ...continued...
Saturday, January 01, 1966 to Sunday, January 01, 1967
Chicken or Dare
I have a history with chickens. Not a good history either. As a matter of fact, the appearance of a leg of chicken on my plate brings me flashbacks of a long ago visit to my great grandmother’s farm during one of our frequent trips to Smithville to visit.
We called our great grandmother Ganny. Her real name was Zelma Lizzie Christine Franz Kunkel. My older cousin inspired the name Ganny since he was the oldest of our generation. There wasn’t anything magical abo ...continued...
Breaking Wild Horses
By Cindy Gray
Sometimes my dreams, even the ones I don’t really remember, leave me with a strange feeling of exhilaration. It&rsqu ...continued...
