"You know, Dad," 16-year-old Jimmy started. "I'm 16 now and I think it's time that we talk about getting a car for me to drive."
"Well, I'll make a deal with you, Jimmy," his Dad replied. "We'll talk about this car idea when you bring home a good report card and you get your hair cut."
A couple of months later, Jimmy brings home his report card. "Here you go, Dad. All A's!"
"That's great, Jimmy," his Dad replied. "But you still haven't gotten your hair cut."
"Well, Dad, while making those great grades, I was in a religion class and noticed that Jesus had long hair, all of the Apostles had long hair. Moses, Joseph and even the kings of the land all had long hair."
His Dad thought about this for a second and asked, "Did you notice what else they had in common?"
Some time ago, a man punished his 3-year-old daughter for wasting a roll of gold wrapping paper. Money was tight and he was furious when the child tried to decorate a box.
Nevertheless, the little girl brought the gift to her father the next morning and said, "This is for you, Daddy." He was embarrassed by his earlier overreaction, but his anger flared again when he found the box was empty.
He yelled at her,"Don't you know when you give someone a present, there's supposed to be something inside it? The little girl looked up at him with tears in her eyes and said, "Oh, Daddy, it's not empty, I blew kisses into the box. All for you, Daddy."
The father was crushed. He put his arms around his little girl, and he begged for her forgiveness.
An accident took the life of the child only a short time later and it is told that the man kept that gold box by his bed for many years and whenever he was discouraged, he would take out an imaginary kiss and remember the love of the child who had put it there.
In a very real sense, each of us as humans have been given a gold container filled with unconditional love and kisses from our children, friends, family or God. Even our pets!
There is no more precious possession anyone could hold than love
A wealthy man and his son loved to collect rare works of art. They had everything in their collection, from Picasso to Raphael. They would often sit together and admire the great works of art. When the Vietnam conflict broke out, the son went to war. He was very courageous and died in battle while rescuing another soldier. The father was notified and grieved deeply for his only son.
About a month later, just before Christmas, there was a knock at the door. A young man stood at the door with a large package in his hands. He said, “Sir, you don’t know me, but I am the soldier for whom your son gave his life. He saved many lives that day, and he was carrying me to safety when a bullet struck him in the heart and he died instantly. He often talked about you, and your love for art.” The young man held out his package. “I know this isn’t much. I’m not really a great artist, but I think your son would have wanted you to have this.”
The father opened the package. It was a portrait of his son, painted by the young man. He stared in sweat the way the soldier had captured the personality of his son in the painting. The father was so drawn to the eyes that his own eyes welled up with tears. He thanked the young man and offered to pay him for the picture. ” Oh, no sir, I could never repay what your son did for me. It’s a gift”.
The father hung the portrait over his mantle. Every time visitors came to his home he took them to see the portrait of his son before he showed them any of the other great works he had collected.
The man died a few months later. There was to be a great auction of his paintings. Many influential people gathered, excited over seeing the great paintings and having an opportunity to purchase one for their collection.
On the platform sat the painting of the son. The auctioneer pounded his gavel. We will start the bidding with this picture of the son. Who will bid for this picture?” There was silence.
Then a voice in the back of the room shouted, “We want to see the famous paintings. Skip this one.”
But the auctioneer persisted. “Will someone bid for this painting? Who will start the bidding? $100, $200?”
Another voice shouted angrily. “We didn’t come to see this painting. We came to see the Van Goghs, the Rembrandts. Get on with the real bids!”
But still the auctioneer continued The son! The son! Who’ll take the son?
Finally, a voice came from the very back of the room. It was the longtime gardener of the man and his son. “I’ll give $10 for the painting. Being a poor man, it was all he could afford.
“We have $10, who will bid $20?”
“Give it to him for $10. Let’s see the masters.”
“$10 is the bid, won’t someone bid $20?” continued the Painting..........
The crowd was becoming angry. They didn’t want the picture of the son. They wanted the more worthy investments for their collections. The auctioneer pounded the gavel. “Going once, going twice, SOLD for $10!”
A man sitting on the second row shouted, “Now let’s get on with the collection.
The auctioneer laid down his gavel. “I’m sorry, the auction is over.”
“What about the paintings?”
“I am sorry. When I was called to conduct this auction, I was told of a secret stipulation in the will. I was not allowed to reveal that stipulation until this time. Only the painting of the son would be auctioned. Whoever bought that painting would inherit the entire estate, including the paintings. The man who took the son gets every thing!”
part two.................Fictional « Thread Started on Apr 1, 2007, 12:19pm »
Mr Blanchards reply to this ..........
I'll let Mr. Blanchard tell you what happened: A young woman was coming toward me, her figure long and slim. Her blonde hair lay back in curls from her delicate ears; her eyes were blue as flowers. Her lips and chin had a gentle firmness, and in her pale green suit she was like springtime come alive. I started toward her, entirely forgetting to notice that she was not wearing a rose.
As I moved, a small, provocative smile curved her lips. "Going my way, sailor?" she murmured. Almost uncontrollably I made one step closer to her, and then I saw Hollis Maynell. She was standing almost directly behind the girl.
A woman well past 40, she had graying hair tucked under a worn hat. She was more than plump, her thick-ankled feet thrust into low-heeled shoes. The girl in the green suit was walking quickly away. I felt as though I was split in two, so keen was my desire to follow her, and yet so deep was my longing for the woman whose spirit had truly companioned me and upheld my own. And there she stood. Her pale, plump face was gentle and sensible, her gray eyes had a warm and kindly twinkle. I did not hesitate. My fingers gripped the small worn blue leather copy of the book that was to identify me to her.
This would not be love, but it would be something precious, something perhaps even better than love, a friendship for which I had been and must ever be grateful.
I squared my shoulders and saluted and held out the book to the woman, even though while I spoke I felt choked by the bitterness of my disappointment. "I'm Lieutenant John Blanchard, and you must be Miss Maynell. I am so glad you could meet me; may I take you to dinner?"
The woman's face broadened into a tolerant smile. "I don't know what this is about, son," she answered, "but the young lady in the green suit who just went by, she begged me to wear this rose on my coat. And she said if you were to ask me out to dinner, I should go and tell you that she is waiting for you in the big restaurant across the street. She said it was some kind of test!"
It's not difficult to understand and admire Miss Maynell's wisdom. The true nature of a heart is seen in its response to the unattractive.
John Blanchard stood up from the bench, straightened his Army uniform, and studied the crowd of people making their way through Grand Central Station. He looked for the girl whose heart he knew, but whose face he didn't, the girl with the rose. His interest in her had begun thirteen months before in a Florida library. Taking a book off the shelf he found himself intrigued, not with the words of the book, but with the notes penciled in the margin. The soft handwriting reflected a thoughtful soul and insightful mind. In the front of the book, he discovered the previous owner's name, Miss Hollis Maynell. With time and effort he located her address. She lived in New York City. He wrote her a letter introducing himself and inviting her to correspond. The next day he was shipped overseas for service in World War II.
During the next year and one-month the two grew to know each other through the mail. Each letter was a seed falling on a fertile heart. A Romance was budding. Blanchard requested a photograph, but she refused. She felt that if he really cared, it wouldn't matter what she looked like.
When the day finally came for him to return from Europe, they scheduled their first meeting - 7:00 PM at the Grand Central Station in New York. "You'll recognize me," she wrote, "by the red rose I'll be wearing on my lapel." So at 7:00 he was in the station looking for a girl whose heart he loved, but whose face he'd never seen.
This is a true story. Last week was my 40th birthday and I really didn’t feel like waking up that morning. I managed to pull myself together and go downstairs for breakfast, hoping my wife would be pleasant and say, “Happy Birthday!”, and possibly have a small present for me. As it turned out, she barely said good morning, let alone “Happy Birthday.” I thought… Well, that’s marriage for you, but the kids… They will remember.
My kids came trampling down the stairs to breakfast, ate their breakfast, and didn’t say a word to me. So when I made it out of the house and started for work, I felt pretty dumpy and despondent.
As I walked into my office, my secretary Joanne said, “Good Morning Boss, and by the way Happy Birthday!” It felt a bit better knowing that at least someone remembered. I worked in a zombie like fashion until about one o’clock, when Joanne knocked on my door and said, “You know, it’s such a beautiful day outside, and it’s your Birthday, why don’t we go out for lunch, just you and me.” I said, “Thanks, Joanne, that’s the best thing I’ve heard all day. Let’s go!”
We went to lunch but not where we’d normally go. Instead she took me to a quiet bistro with a private table. We had a couple of mixed drinks and I enjoyed the meal tremendously. On the way back to the office, Joanne said, “You know, It’s such a beautiful day… We don’t have to go right back to the office, do we?” I replied with “I suppose not. What do you have in mind?” She said, “Let’s go to my apartment, it’s just around the corner.”
After arriving at her apartment, Joanne turned to me and said, “Boss if you don’t mind, I’m goinna to step into the bedroom for just a moment. I’ll be right back.” “Ok.” I nervously replied. She went into the bedroom and, after a couple of minutes, she came out carrying a huge birthday cake…
Followed by my wife, my kids, and dozens of my friends, and co-workers, all singing “Happy Birthday”.
A blonde goes to the post office to buy stamps for her Christmas cards. She says to the clerk, "May I have 50 Christmas stamps?" The clerk says, "What denomination?" The blonde says, "God help us. Has it come to this? Give me 6 Catholic, 12 Presbyterian, 10 Lutheran and 22 Baptists."
If you’re ever pulled over for speeding (or any other reason really), you probably shouldn’t say any of the following to the officer standing at your window…
I thought you had to be in good physical condition to be a police officer. Sorry, Officer, I didn’t realize my radar detector wasn’t plugged in. Do you know why you pulled me over? Okay, so long as one of us does. Gee, Officer! That’s terrific. The last officer only gave me a warning, too! I was trying to keep up with traffic. I know there are no other cars around. That’s how far ahead of me they are. Hey pal, I pay your salary! Aren’t you the guy from the Village People? Hey, you must’ve been doing’ about 125 mph to keep up with me. Good job! You’re not gonna check the trunk, are you? When the Officer says “Gee Son….Your eyes look red, have you been drinking?” You probably shouldn’t respond with, “Gee Officer your eyes look glazed, have you been eating doughnuts?”
The generous guy..........how did this end? Lol « Thread Started on Jul 31, 2008, 6:33pm »
Several men are in the locker room of a private club after exercising. Suddenly a cell phone on one of the benches rings. A man picks it up and the following conversation ensues:
"Hello?"
"Honey, It's me."
"Sugar!"
"Are you at the club?"
"Yes."
"Great! I'm at the mall 2 blocks from where you are. I saw a beautiful mink coat. It is absolutely gorgeous! Can I buy it?"
"What's the price?"
"Only $1,500."
"Well, okay, go ahead and get it, if you like it that much."
"Ahhh, and I also stopped by the Mercedes dealership and saw the 2007 models. I saw one I really liked. I spoke with the salesman and he gave me a really good price ... and since we need to exchange the BMW that we bought last year..."
"What price did he quote you?"
"Only $60,000!"
"Okay, but for that price I want it with all the options."
"Great! Before we hang up, something else..."
"What?"
"It might seem like a lot, but I was reconciling your bank account and...well, I stopped by to see the real estate agent this morning and I saw the house we had looked at last year. It's on sale! Remember? The one with a pool, English garden, acre of park area, beachfront property...
"How much are they asking?"
"Only $450,000... a magnificent price, and I see that we have that much in the bank to cover..."
"Well, then go ahead and buy it, but just bid $420,000, OK?"
"Okay, sweetie. Thanks! I'll see you later!! I love you!!!"
"Bye."
The man hangs up, closes the phone's flap and asks aloud, "Does anyone know to whom this phone belongs?"
When I say to move, it means go someplace else, not switch positions with each other so there are still two cats in the way.
The dishes with the paw print are yours and contain your food. The other dishes are mine and contain my food.
Please note, placing a paw print in the middle of my plate and food does not stake a claim for it becoming your food and dish, nor do I find that aesthetically pleasing in the slightest. The stairway was not designed by NASCAR and is not a racetrack
Beating me to the bottom is not the object. Tripping me doesn't help, because I fall faster than you can run.
I cannot buy anything bigger than a king size bed. I am very sorry about this. Do not think I will continue to sleep on the couch to ensure your comfort. Look at videos of cats sleeping; they can actually curl up in a ball. It is not necessary to sleep perpendicular to each other stretched out to the fullest extent possible.
I also know that sticking tails straight out and having tongues hanging out the other end to maximize space used is nothing but feline sarcasm. My compact discs are not toys for you and your friends to play with.
For the last time, there is not a secret exit from the bathroom.
If by some miracle I beat you there and manage to get the door shut, it is not necessary to claw, whine, try to turn the knob, or get your paw under the edge and try to pull the door open. I must exit through the same door I entered.
In addition, I have been using bathrooms for years and I know that feline attendance is not mandatory.
The proper order is kiss me, then go smell the other cat's butt. I cannot stress this enough. It should be such a simple change for you.
The "Middle Wife" by an Anonymous 2nd grade teacher I've been teaching now for about fifteen years. I have two kids myself, but the best birth story I know is the one I saw in my own second-grade classroom a few years back. When I was a kid, I loved show-and-tell. So I always have a few sesswith my students. It helps them get over shyness and usually, show-and-tell is pretty tame. Kids bring in pet turtles, model airplanes, pictures of fish they catch, stuff like that. And I never, ever place any boundaries or limitations on them. If they want to lug it in to school and talk about it, they're welcome.
Well, one day this little girl, Erica, a very bright, very outgoing kid, takes her turn and waddles up to the front of the class with a pillow stuffed under her sweater. She holds up a snapshot of an infant. "This is Luke, my baby brother, and I'm going to tell you about his birthday."
"First, Mom and Dad made him as a symbol of their love, and then Dad put a seed in my Mom's stomach, and Luke grew in there. He ate for nine months through an umbrella cord." She's standing there with her hands on the pillow, and I'm trying not to
laugh and wishing I had my camcorder with me. The kids are watching her in amazement."Then, about two Saturdays ago, my Mom starts saying and going, 'Oh, Oh,
Oh, Oh!' Erica puts a hand behind her back and groans. "She walked around the house for, like an hour, 'Oh, oh, oh!' Now this kid is doing a hysterical duck walk and groaning.
"My Dad called the middle wife. She delivers babies, but she doesn't have a sign on the car like the Domino's man. They got my Mom to lie down in bed like this." Then Erica lies down with her back against the wall.
"And then, pop! My Mom had this bag of water she kept in there in case he got thirsty, and it just blew up and spilled all over the bed, like psshhheew!" This kid has her legs spread with her little hands miming water flowing away. It was too much! "Then the middle wife starts saying 'push, push,' and 'breathe, breathe.
They started counting, but never even got past ten. Then, all of a sudden, out comes my brother. He was covered in yucky stuff that they all said it was from Mom's play-center, so there must be a lot of toys inside there." Then Erica stood up, took a big theatrical bow and returned to her seat.
I'm sure I applauded the loudest. Ever since then, when it's show-and-tell day, I bring my camcorder, just in case another "Middle Wife" comes along.
A frail old man went to live with his son, daughter-in-law, and four-year old grandson. The old man's hands trembled, his eyesight was blurred, and his step faltered. The family ate together at the table. But the elderly grandfather's shaky hands and failing sight made eating difficult. Peas rolled off his spoon onto the floor. When he grasped the glass, milk spilled on the tablecloth.
The son and daughter-in-law became irritated with the mess. "We must do something about Grandfather," said the son. I've had enough of his spilled milk, noisy eating, and food on the floor.
So the husband and wife set a small table in the corner. There, Grandfather ate alone while the rest of the family enjoyed dinner. Since Grandfather had broken a dish or two, his food was served in a wooden bowl.
When the family glanced in Grandfather's direction, sometimes he had a tear in his eye as he sat alone. Still, the only words the couple had for him were sharp admonitions when he dropped a fork or spilled food.
The four-year-old watched it all in silence.
One evening before supper, the father noticed his son playing with wood scraps on the floor. He asked the child sweetly, "What are you making?" Just as sweetly, the boy responded, "Oh, I am making a little bowl for you and Mama to eat your food in when I grow up." The four-year-old smiled and went back to work.
The words so struck the parents that they were speechless. Then tears started to stream down their cheeks. Though no word was spoken, both knew what must be done.
That evening the husband took Grandfather's hand and gently led him Back to the family table. For the remainder of his days he ate every meal with the family. And for some reason, neither husband nor wife seemed to care any longer when a fork was dropped, milk spilled, or the tablecloth soiled.
8) DRESS-UP A little girl was watching her parents dress for a party. When she saw her dad donning his tuxedo, she warned, 'Daddy, you shouldn't wear that suit.' 'And why not, darling?' 'You know that it always gives you a headache the next morning.' 9) DEATH While walking along the sidewalk in front of his church, our minister heard the intoning of a prayer that nearly made his collar wilt. Apparently, his 5-year-old son and his playmates had found a dead robin. Feeling that proper burial should be performed, they had secured a small box and cotton batting, then dug a hole and made ready for the disposal of the deceased. The minister's son was chosen to say the appropriate prayers and with sonorous dignity intoned his version of what he thought his father always said: 'Glory be unto the Faaather, and unto the Sonnn, and into the hole he goooes.' (I want this line used at my funeral!)
10) SCHOOL A little girl had just finished her first week of school. 'I'm just wasting my time,' she said to her mother. 'I can't read, I can't write, and they won't let me talk!'
11) BIBLE A little boy opened the big family Bible. He was fascinated as he fingered through the old pages. Suddenly, something fell out of the Bible. He picked up the object and looked at it. What he saw was an old leaf that had been pressed in between the pages. 'Mama, look what I found,' the boy called out. 'What have you got there, dear?' With astonishment in the young boy's voice, he answered, 'I think it's Adam's underwear!'
I was always taught to respect my elders, but it keeps getting harder to find any.--Anonymous
It's hard to make a comeback when you haven't been anywhere.- -Anonymous
1) NUDITY I was driving with my three young children one warm summer evening when a woman in the convertible ahead of us stood up and waved. She was stark naked! As I was reeling from the shock, I heard my 5-year-old shout from the back seat, 'Mom, that lady isn't wearing a seat belt!' ; 2) OPINIONS On the first day of school, a first-grader handed his teacher a note from his mother. The note read, 'The opinions expressed by this child are not necessarily those of his parents.'
3) KETCHUP A woman was trying hard to get the ketchup out of the jar. During her struggle the phone rang so she asked her 4-year-old daughter to answer the phone. 'Mommy can't come to the phone to talk to you right now. She's hitting the bottle.'
4) MORE NUDITY
A little boy got lost at the YMCA and found himself in the women's locker room. When he was spotted, the room burst into shrieks, with ladies grabbing towels and running for cover. The little boy watched in amazement and then asked, 'What's the matter, haven't you ever seen a little boy before?'
5) POLICE # 1 While taking a routine vandalism report at an elementary school, I was interrupted by a little girl about 6 years old. Looking up and down at my uniform, she asked, 'Are you a cop? Yes,' I answered and continued writing the report. "My mother said if I ever needed help I should ask the police. Is that right?' 'Yes, that's right,' I told her. 'Well, then,' she said as she extended her foot toward me, 'would you please tie my shoe?'
6) POLICE # 2 It was the end of the day when I parked my police van in front of the station. As I gathered my equipment, my K-9 partner, Jake, was barking, and I saw a little boy staring in at me. 'Is that a dog you got back there?' he asked. 'It sure is,' I replied. Puzzled, the boy looked at me and then towards the back of the van. Finally he said, 'What'd he do?'
7) ELDERLY While working for an organization that delivers lunches to elderly shut-ins, I used to take my 4-year-old daughter on my afternoon rounds. She was unfailingly intrigued by the various appliances of old age, particularly the canes, walkers and wheelchairs. One day I found her staring at a pair of false teeth soaking in a glass. As I braced myself for the inevitable barrage of questions, she merely turned and whispered, 'The tooth fairy will never believe this!'
11144nan I could not remember where I found this true story. Went to Google and typed in; 86 year old woman got back at her bank says the New york times. There it was!
Letter From An 86 year old Woman July 12, 2008 08:24 PM EDT views: 57 | rating: 9.9/10 (31 votes) | comments: 29 an email
Subject: 86-year old lady's letter to bank > Shown below, is an actual letter that was sent to a bank by an 86 year old woman. The bank manager thought it amusing enough to have it published in the New York Times. > > Dear Sir: > > I am writing to thank you for bouncing my check with which I endeavored to pay my plumber last month. > By my calculations, three nanoseconds must have elapsed between his presenting the check and the arrival in my account of the funds needed to honor it. > I refer, of course, to the automatic monthly deposit of my entire pension, an arrangement which, I admit, has been in place for only eight years. You are to be commended for seizing that brief window of opportunity, and also for debiting my account $30 by way of penalty for the inconvenience caused to your bank. My thankfulness springs from the manner in which this incident has caused me to rethink my errant financial ways. > > I noticed that whereas I personally answer your telephone calls and letters, --- when I try to contact you, I am confronted by the impersonal, overcharging, pre-recorded, faceless entity which your bank has become. > > From now on, I, like you, choose only to deal with a > flesh-and-blood person. My mortgage and loan repayments will therefore and hereafter no longer be automatic, but will arrive at your bank, by check, addressed personally and confidentially to an employee at your bank whom you must nominate. > Be aware that it is an offense under the Postal Act for any other person to open such an envelope. Please find attached an Application Contact which I require your chosen employee to complete. I am sorry it runs to eight pages, but in order that I know as much about him or her as your bank knows about me, there is no alternative. Please note that all copies of his or her medical history must be > countersigned by a Notary Public, and the mandatory details of his/her financial situation (income, debts, assets and liabilities) must be accompanied by documented proof. In due course, at MY convenience, I will issue your employee with a PIN number which he/she must quote in dealings with me. > I regret that it cannot be shorter than 28 digits but, again, I have modeled it on the number of button presses required of me to access my account balance on your phone bank service. As they say, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. > > Let me level the playing field even further. > When you call me, press buttons as follows: > IMMEDIATELY AFTER DIALING, PRESS THE STAR (*) BUTTON FOR ENGLISH > #1. To make an appointment to see me > #2. To query a missing payment. > #3. To transfer the call to my living room in case I am there. > #4. To transfer the call to my bedroom in case I am sleeping > #5. To transfer the call to my toilet in case I am attending to nature. > #6. To transfer the call to my mobile phone if I am not at home > #7. To leave a message on my computer, a password to access my computer is required. Password will be communicated to you at a later date to that Authorized Contact mentioned earlier. > #8. To return to the main menu and to listen to options 1 through 7. > #9. To make a general complaint or inquiry. The contact will then be put on hold, pending the attention of my automated answering service. > #10. This is a second reminder to press* for English. While this may, on occasion, involve a lengthy wait, uplifting music will play for the duration of the call. > > Regrettably, but again following your example, I must also levy an establishment fee to cover the setting up of this new arrangement. May I wish you a happy, if ever so slightly less prosperous New Year? > > Your Humble Client
funny email story/joke going around I have to share if you haven't seen it b/c I found it hilarious:
"The other day I went up to a local Christian bookstore and saw a honk if you love Jesus bumper sticker.
I was feeling particularly sassy that day because I had just come from a thrilling choir performance, followed by a thunderous prayer meeting, so I bought the sticker and put in on my bumper. I was stopped at a red light at a busy intersection, just lost in thought about the Lord and how good He is and I didn't notice that the light had changed. It is a good thing someone else loves Jesus because if he hadn't honked, I'd never have noticed.
I found that LOTS of people love Jesus. Why, while I was sitting there, the guy behind started honking like crazy, and when he leaned out of his window and screamed, "for the love of God, GO! GO!" What an exuberant cheerleader he was for Jesus.
Everyone started honking! I just leaned out of my window and started waving and smiling at all these loving people.
I even honked my horn a few times to share in the love. There must have been a man from Florida back there because I heard him yelling something about a sunny beach...
I saw another guy waving in a funny way with only his middle finger stuck up in the air. When I asked my teenage grandson in the back seat what that meant, he said that it was probably a Hawaiian good luck sign or something.
Well, I've never met anyone from Hawaii, so I leaned out the window and gave him the good luck sign back.
My grandson burst out laughing, why even he was enjoying this religious experience.
A couple of the people were so caught up in the joy of the moment that they got out of their cars and started walking towards me.
I bet they wanted to pray or ask what church I attended, but this is when I noticed the light had changed.
So, I waved to all my sisters and brothers grinning, and drove on through the intersection.
I noticed I was the only car that got through the intersection before the light changed again and I felt kind of sad that I had to leave them after all the love we had shared, so I slowed the car down, leaned out of the window and gave them all the Hawaiian good luck sign one last time as I drove away.
Life in the 1500 history......................... « Thread Started on Mar 31, 2007, 2:01pm »
Hoe it came about.
Life in the 1500's You're gonna love this. The next time you are washing your hands and complain because the water temperature isn't just how you like it, think about how things used to be. Here are some facts about the 1500's Most people got married in June beause they took their yearly bath in May, and still smelled pretty goodby June. However, they were starting to smell, so the brides carried a bouquet of flowersto hide the body odor, Hence the custom today of carrying a bouquet when getting married. Baths consisted of a big tub of hot water. The man of the house had the priviledge of the nice clean water, then all the other sons and men, then the women and finally the children. Last of all the babies. By then the water was so dirty that you could actually lose someone in it. Hence the saying don't throw out the baby with the bathwater.
Houses had thatched rooves, thick straw piled high with no wood underneath. It was the oly place for animals to get warm, so aall the dogs and cats and other small animals(mice and bugs) lived in the roof. When it rained it became slippery and sometimes the animals would slip and fall off the roof. Hence the saying It's raining cats and dogs.
There was nothing to stop things from falling into the house either. This posed a real problem in the bedroom where the bugs and other droppings could mess up uornice clean bed. Hence a bed with big posts and a sheet hung over the top afforded some protection and that's how the canopy came into existance.
Enjoying your education?
Sometimes pork was obtained, which made the family feel quite special. When visitors would come over, they would hang up there bacon to show that the man of the house could"bring home the bacon". They would cut off little pieces to share and everyone would sit around "chewing the fat"
Bread was divided according to status. Workers got the burnt bottom of the loaf, the family got themiddle and the guests the top or "the upper crust".
Lead cups were used to drink ale or whiskey. The combination would sometimes knock the imbibers out for several days. Someone walking along the road would take them for dead and prepare them for burial. They were laid out on the kitchen table for a couple of days and the family would eat and drink while waiting to see if they would wake up. Hence the custom of holding a wake.
England is old and small and the local folk started running out of places to bury people, so they would dig up the coffins and take the bones to a bone-house and reuse the grave. When reopening these about one in twnty five had scratch marks on the inside. They realised they were burying people alive, so they would tie a string on the wrist of the corpse, lead it through the coffin, up through the ground and tie it to a bell. Then someone would have to sit out in the graveyard all night (the graveyard shift) to listen for the bell. Therefore someone could be "saved by the bell" or was a "dead ringer". Whoever said history was boring?
hollandgirl Forum Posts (4,464)
Tell the kid dad.....................lol..............
Funny most likely will outgrow this, pun intended