You bet they are, Jac. I like to make pecan pie with them and give them to friends and neighbors. I also use the fresh eggs from my hens to put into pound cakes.
I'd give you all a box of steaks from my ranch,or if you healthily- a 2 pound bag of pecans from the pecan trees on the ranch. A gift certificate to any all day spa of your choice, manicures and pedicures, plus makeovers and gowns for a night on the town.
It sounds like you are a lucky pair of ladies indeed. :-) Parents who are welcoming and loving of their childrens' partners are tops in my book.
You have a good head on your shoulders, hon and I'm glad that you're thinking ahead. Having a good foundation and a job to provide for the child is the best thing you can do.Heck, you can't go wrong in thinking ahead. I've always believed that you two would be good parents. :0)
Hear! Hear! I think you and I lived parallel lives with parents teaching us manners and respect for others.:)
Your mom sounds so lovely and what a wonderful role model and parent to help during your health troubles. :)
Your dad sounds like my dad- the rock, the fortress and the protector provider all wrapped up in one. I respect mine like no other.If dad was disappointed in me, I knew I had messed up. My grandfather- a WWII veteran stepped in as a second father when my parents were busy with a new baby or if mom needed them. My grandparents were especially helpful after I came back from Iraq after having my stroke. I lived with them because their house is more handicapped friendly and their help as I recovered can never be repaid.After I had recovered, my grandmother was diagnosed with non hodgkins Lymphoma. The roles reversed and I became her care giver until her death.(Sorry, getting a little misty eyed at the memory). Together with my parents, they taught myself and my siblings respect, manners, honor and dignity for ourselves and to others. I will always be grateful to them for that.
If you have a child, it will be lucky to have you as parents. :0)
*Chuckle* Kind of like Irish Diplomacy- Saying "Go to Hell" in such a way so that people look forward to the trip. My grandmother was like that. Fred is like a combination of my dad and grandfather with his style.
The Auschwitz connection did not sit well with me, either. One of my house mate's grandfather lives with us and is an Auschwitz survivor. When he first came to live with us, I ran my fingers over the numbers tattooed on his arm. I had nightmares for nearly a year that gave me a very good idea of what he had endured. I don't think I'd ever be able to go to that camp and walk through without hitting my knees and sobbing uncontrollably.
The frog in boiling water is an excellent analogy. I don't think the mods know what he's doing right under their noses. I do know that if I had ever spoken to anyone is such a manner, I wouldn't be here. My parents and grandparents would have reminded me of my manners real quick.
When I read your reply to Dude I was quietly cheering you and gave you an honorary respectful salute. You are indeed correct in the truth as I've met them in my travels and work connections.
Every year I dress up in a different costume to answer the door to the trick-or-treaters. One year, I dressed all in black, got on the horse and acted out as a Headless Horse(wo)man. Scared the bejeebers out of the kids and some parents. This year I'm dressing up as a fortune teller.
Our yard becomes a cemetery too and hiding behind the headstones to give the kids a fright always brings a giggle once they realize the "ghosts" are giving out goodies.
One year I forgot to buy some candy because work had been such a bear of late, I ended up handing out my stash of chocolate granola bars.
What a *CUTE* cat!! He looks like a straight ear Scottish Fold or maybe one of those wonderful British Shorthairs.Oh, and his markings are awesome. There's nothing like a tabby and white cat. :cat:
Thank you so much for sharing! I needed the laughs.
Just think, gini, if women did rule the world- There would be no more wars, folks got along and talked things out, families would stick together, and common sense would be the general rule.
I've always been fond of that Lakota Sioux saying. I can only walk in my own moccasins since they were made to fit me, just as someone else cannot walk in mine. We all walk our own path and our paths do meet from time to time. We can walk that path together or we can walk it separately. I choose to walk it with others in harmony.
These old songs have always captured my heart. I used to sing Lena Horne's, "Stormy Weather" to my grandmother as a girl since she loved it so much. Brings back a lot of memories.
There are programs that train Service Dogs for which there is quite the demand for and prisoners do well at. There is also another program in Colorado in which prisoners train Mustangs which are then sold to ranchers and to people who want a well-trained piece of American history.
Programs like this are very rehabilitating and build bonds between man and animal and could really be a good alternative to prison.
0-60 in six, not bad. Not bad at all. :-) I remember the big trunk my neighbor's Saab had. I've heard of the Rover but have never had the pleasure of riding around in one.
Depending on the day and what I'm needing to get done, I'm usually revving around in my grandfather's old 1955 Ford F-100 pickup. It's ATK supplied with high performance with a 302 ci small block. It's 347ci powerplant with some Edelbrock go-fast goodies. B&M transmission with a Gibson exhaust, Sanderson headers, MSD ignition products and a Mach pulley system. I souped it up with some help from the housemates. It's been painted a smoky black.
If I'm doing the Reverend thing, it's my 1995 Chevrolet Camaro V6, awesome gas mileage and power to boot oddly enough. The previous owner's college son kicked it out with a stereo system in it that makes the neighbors down the road wet the bed. He also did some modifications to it that make my mechanic scratch his head. It vibrates at stop signs and stop lights.It's got an intimidating look to it and my best friend's son keeps trying to buy it from me. The local cops know me by name because of it. It's fun as heck and I love it, idiosyncrasies and all. I'm getting it painted the beginning of November so it'll look like it just rolled off the assembly line when it's done.
For ranch work, it's my dependable 2008 Chevrolet 3500 Dually pickup. It hauls the horses, cattle and anything else without breaking a sweat. :)
Someday, when I win the lottery, I'd love to be able to buy a turn-key 1934 Ford Coupe with the suicide doors and the whole shebang. :)
One Spring Break while in college, one of my housemate's was from New Orleans and she invited me and a couple of the other girls for the week home. It was great spending time with her family and enjoying some wonderful food. One day I happened to be walking by the kitchen and saw her grandmother banging on the lid on a pot that was simmering on the stove top. She was yelling, "Get in that pot! Get in that pot raht naow!" I raised my eyebrow quizzically and wandered off to find my housemate. I asked her about her grandmother's odd behavior in the kitchen and she said, "Whatever you do, don't ask what it is that you're eating". My eyebrows shot into my hairline and I promised to keep quiet. Later on, we enjoyed a flavorful meal filled with jokes and laughter. My housemate's words still rang in my ears though.
To this day I still have *no idea* what it is that I had eaten, but whatever it was, it was sure tasty!
Did he cook that way for his amusement of he just liked mixing things up?
Dad didn't cook much since mom did most of it, but on the weekends he'd make waffles or pancakes. Sometimes he'd make these out of this world biscuits that only crumbs would be left. On Sundays, he'd fire up the grill for steaks or burgers for lunch. Good food and good memories. Come to think of it, I'm missing a good home cooked meal.
:Mouth waters: Oooohhhhh, I *love* sweet and sour. It sounds heavenly. Katt sounds like she cooks the way my grandparents' Cajun housekeeper cooked. I'd always enter the kitchen with delightful scents of spices and meats on the air and never left hungry.
My grandmother never cooked following recipes to the letter, but went by her instincts and everything was made with such love. She could make these sand dollar cookies at Christmas that would literally melt in your mouth. I'm getting hungry thinking about good food.
The Porsche doesn't sound so bad, the Saab would have given me great hesitation (one of my neighbors had one and gave me a lift to work one day- that thing rode hard. Folks actually consider it a "small" car here) and the Leyland Marina sounds like a nightmare on wheels! :eek: So what do you drive now?
RE: Happy Birthday jac379
Happy Birthday, Jac!