TWO SIGNS LEFT TO I.D. MINE, AS SPANISH, FRENCH, OR JESUIT.

How far are you from the trout farm? Or does it still exist?
I haven't been there in fifty years.

#/;0)~
 

It was north on 7, near the old dog patch park. I remember the park went belly up bankrupt, some time back.
Not sure if the trout farm fell with the park or not.

#/;0)~
 

Is anyone else having trouble sending or receiving PMs?

Or is it just me?

#/;0(~
 

That's good for me. I might be able to find my old log cabin home from my childhood.
There is bound to be a cache on old metal toys and one from back in the the war of the northern oppression.

Thanks, and maybe someday meet some of my friends.
On a much healthier day.

#/:0)~
 

That's a good thing going to the places you remember from childhood. Most of the signs and things I post are things I found in my childhood playing in the woods with friends.
 

I have many memories from living in an old log cabin.
We scraped old civil war clippings from the interior walls.

We used an old pot belly stove for heating and cooking.

I remember mom cooking some small chunks of pork on top of that old stove, when the big heavy door began shaking, and the light of day beaming across the room as mom gathered all five of us kids behind her apron and backed us all five up the stairs to the attic where we slept.
Then there was the crack as the doorlatch gave in to the strength of the bear.
He stayed downstairs with the boiling pork.
Then it happened. He reached into the boiling water, let out a roar and knocked over the stove and left.
The water from the pot contained the fire well enough for my older brother and I shoveled the hot coals back into the stove and stood it back up, replaced the stovepipe and took off after the bear with a couple of butcher knives.

Glad he got away.

#/;0)~(c)
 

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Yeah, I got my meds yesterday. I walked into the clinic. I stood at the little glass window and asked how they could just ignore three requests from my drug store for my pain meds and just leave on a there day weekend.

She went to the back. I figured to call911. But nope... she said the nurse had them and would give them to the dr. When he came out from his ptnt .
And then said it would be later in the day or sometime tomorrow.

"NO. It will be now! I roared. I was on day six suffering without pain meds that keep me from jumping from a cliff. Not to mention having to go thru withdrawals from a narcotic!
I said I wanted to talk to whomever was running the clinic. She left again.

She came back. She said the Dr was calling them in now they should be ready by the time I got to the drug store.

I apologized to the sweet little lady and went to purchase my meds, got home pIlled up and slept four hours.....
#/;0)~(c)
 

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Back to the old log house....
The stairs led to the attic, where we all slept. ( seven at that time) where I remembered waking up several times during the winter, to the sound of Mom dusting snow off the numerous quilts on each bed, before trying to wake us from our nightly hIbernation.
We would group up in front of the new fangled wood cook stove that dad bartered from a neighbor just before winter set in.
This was the first fire lit each morning, and the fire that was kept alive year round. It was in a leanto built on the original house. It still had its dirt floor as I remember.

One day during the summer, a wild boar wandered in the open door while mom was making a pot of tea. She turned around as he let out a grunt and Mom poured the pitpure of boiling water on him as she struggled to get above the hot stove without burning herself. Fortunately the hog lost interest after getting scalded, my brother and I took after him with one knife and a stick.

We failed to catch him as well.
Life in the woods.

#/;0)~(c)
 

There was a time a bear moved to my house I moved out till I could take care of it. He wasn't very good tasting but he was a big one. I couldn't reach as high as he could. I can reach eight foot easy.
 

Yes life in the woods. It's some thing when you go out to why your dogs are fighting over there food and its coyotes fighting over it. No telling what you'll have in the yard when you go out the door.
 

That's just about the same thing that I tell to city folks when they don't listen to me tell them "You wouldn't like it. Don't come. "

Even then, some will come anyway, with a rat in their purse and they call it a dog.

I'm so glad I was raised in the county.

#/;0)~(c)
 

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