Announcement

Collapse
No announcement yet.

Just musings....

Collapse
X
  • Filter
  • Time
  • Show
Clear All
new posts

  • Just musings....

    After much deliberation (within the last 5 minutes)...
    consider any part of my solve copyrighted. From earlier threads to any other threads... I printed out hard copies. Used my own paper. Anyway just saying...

    A good song to start...

    Attached Files
    Last edited by Castellaw1685; 03-31-2019, 03:20 PM.

  • #2
    Well it's been nice... thanks for all the fish.
    Love is the answer. Get to know people and their interests.
    This is just the beginning... of something, maybe.


     

    Comment


    • #3

      Wake me up when it's over


       

      Comment


      • #4
        Got my eye on U all~

        Click image for larger version  Name:	bigeye.jpg Views:	22 Size:	107.6 KB ID:	83651

        a challenge for someone to finish this work of art...
        finish the story...


        Last edited by Castellaw1685; 02-19-2019, 09:12 AM.

        Comment


        • #5
          Click image for larger version

Name:	eric-sloane-vintage-oil-foil-map_1_1d8eb9bc6769ad9bc00c764fc8b9048a.jpg
Views:	2699
Size:	230.3 KB
ID:	83653

          Comment


          • #6
            Click image for larger version

Name:	903d0b65a068f96af165903de3917a4f.jpg
Views:	2482
Size:	255.5 KB
ID:	83665
             
            Last edited by Castellaw1685; 02-19-2019, 09:04 AM.

            Comment


            • #7
              Click image for larger version

Name:	jeep3.jpg
Views:	2542
Size:	98.8 KB
ID:	83669
               

              Comment


              • #8
                Just a quick story from my old uncle about odd jobs...
                There's a bit about my Great Uncle Orri, he is a WWII vet and is still with us...
                Need to go see him soon. He doesn't move as fast but is still sharp as a tack...
                Many thanks to the Greatest Generation *****

                Odd Jobs
                In our teenage years we did various jobs to make a dollar. In the summer, we worked in the tobacco fields to keep ourselves in the green, at least enough to buy some groceries and clothes. As we got older there were other jobs we attempted to do. Someone had told us that there was good money in the wood industry. That was all we needed to get started. We talked with some of the colored men that hauled pulpwood in the neighborhood. From them we learned how to cut the logs, what to cut, and how much to cut. We checked with our grandparents about cutting some of the trees in the surrounding woods. They didn't think we could cut enough to hurt any thing. So they
                said go right ahead. I think they were right. But don't try to stand in the way of five poor boys on their way to get rich. We had planned to cut at least one cord a week. This would mean we could make around forty-five dollars in two weeks. To you today that isn't much. But to us it was a lot of money and back then it was and that was for sure.

                Cutting pulpwood does not take anyone on the genius level; actually it helps if you are not any where near that smart. We weren't dumb just poor and in need of money.
                Now to cutting pulpwood went something like this. First you needed some smaller pine trees to cut say ten inches down to four inches in diameter. Once the tree has been selected it was cut down. Then we would mark it in five-foot lengths this is where it was cut. Each five-foot log was then carried out to the road and stacked. You would cut and carry until the pile measured two cords in quantity. A cord of wood measures four by four by eight feet. Now this doesn't sound like much but when you're cutting the wood with a cross cut saw by hand it’s a lot. We needed two cords because that is the least the colored men would haul.

                We would cut us some logs back in the woods and at first we carried it out on our shoulders. The larger logs that would make the pile grow faster were almost impossible for us to carry. These were green pine logs full of sap and very heavy. We labored for a week or two and the pile of pulpwood was not growing very fast. The sawing and carrying was extremely slow.

                We devised a plan that would speed the operation up. We put the harness on our old workhorse Nancy. She seemed to be happy to work again. We then would hook the logs to her and let her snake then out of the woods. It worked like a charm and our pile
                grew into two cords. The guys who were going to do the hauling were contacted. A few days later while we were in school they hauled our treasure.

                When we got home our grandmother had collected the money. It seems that our haulers had gotten ten dollars for the haul. That had left thirty-two dollars. Nanny told us that it was too much money for us boys to have at one time. So for all our work we had five dollars. She said she would give the rest to our mother. We never saw it nor did Mama.

                The next load we cut was a little easier because Uncle Orri loaned us a chain saw. Now we were in business, a motorize saw and a horse to pull the logs. We did another two cords and had them hauled. The pay turned out to be less. The money we were told went to pay for chain saw gas and the trees we had cut. That ended our pulp wood career. We were working our butts off and were still poor. It’s better to be poor and happy some of the time, than poor and tired all the time.

                Danny got his drivers license when he was sixteen years old. He wanted to drive a car as bad as anyone has ever wanted to. Well, he had nothing to drive and no money to acquire it. In those days they let students drive the school busses. If you wanted to drive a school you had to take a driving test to get a chauffeurs license. Well, he went and got the license. It wasn't long and he had a route. Turned out to be the one we lived on. He would drive and the rest of us would ride.

                He fell in love with one of the neighbor girls and that ended up being my ticket to learn to drive. Once all the other students were off the bus I would take over as the driver. This was so Danny could sit with his girl. I drove that bus as good as someone with a driver’s permit. I guess that I really didn't do him any favor by driving. Later on in that year he ended up having to marry that girl. Got her in the family way, you know.

                Now when you drove a school bus you took it home with you so it was ready to drive the next morning. The school bus for us turned into the work utility vehicle that we were in need of at the time. It would take us to the local store when we were in need of something. It would take us over to see a neighbor. One of the main things it did for us was to carry firewood. We would take the bus down the road to the woods and cut wood. After the wood was cut we loaded it in the bus and carried it home. This worked well for as long as we had the bus. I think Danny made thirty-five dollars a month driving
                that bus. I don't know if the money went to the family fund or if he used it to buy his first car. It doesn't matter we all enjoyed the bus.

                One nice summer a man that lived a small way from us came by and said he had some hay to get up. He wanted to know if my older brother and myself would like to help him. The rate of pay was fifty cents an hour. The two of us discussed the work and figured it wouldn't hurt for one day. We had both gathered hay in before. I didn't think he could show us any thing new. That was the wrong thinking. That was totally the wrong way to think.

                The next day we were at his house by six o'clock. He told us we had to wait till the hay dried off some. So while we waited he offered us breakfast. It was fat back, biscuits and eggs, not too bad a meal. If I had known what was ahead, I would have eaten more.

                After we ate, we headed out to the hay field. There we were greeted by something we had never seen before. He had some kind of a contraption on the back of the wagon the hay went on. This thing he explained would put the hay on the wagon as he drove the tractor over the hay. Now this sounded all right to us, it meant that we wouldn't have to fork the hay onto the wagon. All we had to do was spread and pack the hay on the wagon as it came over the loader.

                In looking back this was a good idea if the old man had driven the tractor at a reasonable speed. Instead, he thought he was at the Daytona speedway. He drove so fast we stayed covered up on the wagon all day. On top of that we had to fork hay every minute we were on the wagon till it was full. Once it was full we headed for the barn where we thought we would get a break. Fat chance!

                He sent us inside to spread and pack the hay in the loft. This was as bad, if not worse,
                than the wagon. He had a large fork that would clamp about a ton of hay at a time and then it came into the loft. Once in the loft he would dump it. We stayed covered up in hay, though we pitched hay as fast as we could. This went on till noon when we went to the house for dinner.
                Guess what we had-fat back, biscuits and eggs. We thought we were at breakfast again. We worked on through the day till suppertime. We both were dead tired and wanted nothing but to go home. Well since it was so late, he thought he would feed us supper before he carried us home. This sounded good to us because when we got home we could go straight to bed.

                So to his house we went and sat down for supper. Know what we had? Yep-fat back, biscuits and eggs! Well we made five dollars apiece. The hardest I ever worked in my life up till then and since. As he dropped us off at home he made a comment that, " I don't guess you will ever work for me again." We said, “No, anytime” and thought “fat chance.” We never did go back and help him again; we always found some excuse. Going to the dentist was better than what was in store for a boy at that man's house. If
                you're going to work someone that hard feed, you should feed him a decent meal.

                continued...

                Comment


                • #9
                  ...
                  When we were too young to earn a wage, sometimes we would get to spend a week at one of our uncles’ homes. The first one I stayed with was Uncle Orri and Aunt Teresa. They lived in Maddison where we thought you had to be rich to live. This was not true at all; it was just a middle-class neighborhood in the suburbs. But to us, it was the lap of luxury. This was the first place I ever stayed that they had ice cream in the freezer all the time. On top of that, some of the ice cream was green. Today I know it was sherbet but then, to me, it was almost magical.

                  Another odd thing was they required you to change your underwear everyday. Now to me at that time, this was strange and unnecessary. But I followed orders anyway. There I ate the best food I had ever tasted. I have no idea what it was but I still remember that it was good.

                  They next uncle I got invited to stay with was Uncle Henry and Aunt Betty. They lived behind Orri in a mobile home. It was as nice a home as I had ever seen. Here the food was great also. This was the first place I ever ate a grilled cheese sandwich. It was the
                  best thing I ever ate in my whole young life. It rated right up there with Christmas. I don't know how many I ate but I had more than my share. These were great days.

                  Most of us boys as we got older would spend the summer working for our Uncle Orri . He was a stonemason and could use a young boy to carry material for him. Our Uncle Henry worked for him, as well, as his number one man. They made quite a team. Orri was serious and work-oriented most of the time, not much time for joking. But Henry was about the opposite. He, on the other hand, was more like a large young'un. He enjoyed playing though he was grown man and married. As we worked, his joking and playing kept me going and made the days shorter.

                  The work was hard but we tried to please Uncle Orri . If he said that you were a good worker it was worth a weeks pay. He was a good man and somewhat of a perfectionist. I recall one time I was standing there watching him an Henry laying some flag stone on a patio. He stopped working and looked at me. I thought maybe he was going to let me give it a try. But instead he said, "Boy, you know the boss never sees you if you're moving." That was all it took for me to start moving. I have never forgotten that little piece of wisdom. I have passed it on as often as I could.
                  When I started working for Uncle Orri one summer, I was making fifty cents an hour. After a month or so, when I got my check one week I had gotten a raise to seventy-five cents an hour. The raise was never mentioned and work went on, except at a little faster pace for me.

                  The last summer I worked for Uncle Orri my goal was to make enough money to buy a car. C.M. Ermin ran a little store near where we lived called Tendle Store and he had a 1958 Chevrolet. This car was black with lots of chrome. The interior was red leather. Under the hood was a three forty eight engine. The transmission was an automatic three speed with overdrive. This was the car of my choice. C. M. wanted three hundred dollars for the car and that was my goal. I started saving with my first paycheck. The money was kept in a Bible at Uncle Henry's home. Each Friday most of my check was put in that Bible.

                  As the summer progressed I never counted my savings. I was afraid that it might be bad luck. The summer work ended one Friday evening and it was time to tally the money in the bible. Uncle Henry, Aunt Betty and myself sat around their kitchen table and counted my money. To my delight I had a little more than three hundred dollars. I knew the car was mine.

                  Daddy had been out of prison at time for about a year. He had been driving an old 1955 Plymouth. It was at this time it decided to throw a rod. I bought the 1958 Chevy and gave it to my father so he could make it to work. This only made sense for Daddy was providing for us at that time. However, he told me that I got to use it every weekend I
                  wanted it. Use it I did just about every weekend and sometimes on Friday nights. I would wash and wax it almost every Saturday. Daddy was still driving that Chevy when I joined the Army the next June. He also drove it to my high school graduation. I was as proud of him being at my graduation as he was to see me graduate. Sure wish that I had told him that.

                  That old 1955 Plymouth he had didn't go to waste. We drove that thing around in the woods hunting. It seemed that it was indestructible. It only ran on seven cylinders since one had tried to come through the block. Somewhere along the line we had cut the top
                  off and removed the trunk. This wasn't done to be cool it was done for efficiency. This was so we could haul more firewood in the thing. I saw that thing go around a corner on a road in the woods and hit a stump head on at what looked like about two hundred miles an hour. The car was unhurt but three boys flew south for the winter out of the thing. We landed in various positions in the trees. No one was seriously hurt. It was that
                  time of your life that you would live forever and never get hurt. Boy, did that change by about forty!

                  Brother Mich must have been the last one of us that worked for Uncle Orri . He had also turned out to be the tallest of us five boys. We all had grown to be over six feet tall. But Mich didn't stop growing till he was six feet six inches tall. He had dropped out of school and went to work for a rock quarry. But not being a good early-riser, he was always late leaving for work in the mornings. One morning he left from our grandmother’s house, late as usual. He would go as fast as his old Rambler would run trying to make it to work on time. This morning he hit a deer about three miles from home. It was in the cool of winter so he brought the deer back to the house and hung it in a tree. He told my grandmother that he would take care of it after work.

                  Now after this little set back, he was really late for work. So he set off at a break-neck speed again. About four miles from the house he did it again. He hit another deer and killed it. He loaded the deer in the car and went back to the house hung this one beside the other. Now it was impossible to make it to work on time. He called the plant and
                  explained what had happened and took the day off.

                  His being late for work and having to speed caught up with him. After he had gotten too many speeding tickets, he lost his permit to drive. This put him in a bind. He had no way to get to work. So he checked with Uncle Orri to see if he needed any help. He lucked out; Uncle Orri needed a hand. He went to work for Orri and stayed with him for several years. He lived at Lizzy's home and she would drive him to work. This arrangement worked well for a number of years, till he got his permit back and then
                  got married.

                  Now Mich for the most part of his life had worn shoes only to keep his feet warm in the winter. He would rather go barefooted. That he did even when he worked for Orri . Now carrying brick, block and stone was not the place to go without shoes but Mich did so. He even washed the stonework with acid water and never wore the first shoe. Even though he would stand in the acid water as he washed the jobs it never seemed to
                  bother him. Life in its self never bothered Mich. He was happy-go-lucky and lived every day to the fullest. He had more fun in his twenty-nine short years of life than most of us could have in a hundred. He was murdered by one of his wife's deranged uncles in the late 70’s. He died trying to protect his family from harm.

                  Comment


                  • #10
                    Love these stories … takes me back to yesteryear.
                    Thank you.
                    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hWlkmkZW2hk

                    Comment


                    • #11
                      Glad you like them Roll-T
                      Here's another one just for you...
                      It has a good laugh or 2 in it
                      hope you enjoy..

                      I got through my second junior year of high school and managed to get to the senior year. The summer before my senior year, a tobacco farmer in Little Pete offered me a job. This is still in Darlington, just a little father south in the county. Rud had worked for him the summer before and had done well. He had also had a very good time. I had no trouble saying yes. The fellow's name was Donnie Luggart he was married to my Uncle Macey's daughter Joyce. They were both really nice people. He, above all, had a really good sense of humor.

                      Donnie had a brother named John (Judge). Why he was called Judge I never inquired about, but he was a character. He was an old World War II Navy vet. He drove landing craft during a lot of the landings in Europe. Judge was a man who never had married while I worked with him. He always smoked a crooked cigar. Later he let me smoke with him on occasions. They were crooked by design and went by the name Old Rum Crooks. He was also a seasoned beer drinker.

                      They raised bright tobacco, which unlike dark tobacco had to be pulled off the plant leaf by leaf as it ripened. It would ripen from the bottom up. There was a horse that pulled a sled of wood where you would put the leaves as you pulled them from the plants. The horse was in control of the sled that went down a special row that was wider than the rest to make room. As you pulled and moved up, the horse was told to "git-up" to move forward and then "whoa" to stop him when he was far enough head. This worked most of the time. Once in a while, the horse would make his own mind up where to stop. His chosen stop was always too far ahead. By the time you made it to the sled you had more tobacco than you could carry. It was then old John would cuss and talk about giving the poor animal a treatment. This would be him taking the reins in his hand while being hidden by the tobacco plants. He would holler "Git-Up" and as the horse moved forward he would holler "Whoa" and jerk back on the reins sending the horse’s bit back into its mouth severely.

                      Now this had to hurt the horse, but seemed to teach it a lesson. Once, near the end of the row, the horse was being real bad about stopping. John went to give him a treatment. The next thing we knew John was taking the horse down through the wood and briars, screaming and yelling like a mad man. There was little that was yelled, screamed or hollered that Donnie or I could make any sense of at the time. However, most of the cuss words came through loud and clear. This lasted for around five minutes. Donnie and I just watched and looked at one another. When he got back, we took a break. That was one break I know now that he really needed. Of course after watching this spectacle in front of us we were ready for a break also. Later that day he let me in on what had taken place. He said things had gone as planned for the horse's treatment. He had the reins and hollered "GIT-UP" as the horse moved forward he yelled "WHOA" and jerked back on the reins. This is where the treatment went wrong. He had left too much slack in the reins and had delivered himself a very painful low blow. The trip through the woods was as painful for him as it was for the horse. He said he hadn't told us what happen at the time for he was afraid we would laugh and he would have to give us a treatment also.

                      Another way the work was broken up in the tobacco field was a little joke played on fellow pullers. Now you have to know these tobacco plants were five to five and one-half feet tall. The leaves were long and broad. You could not see the person in the row next to you most of the time. As you were pulling leaves off the plant on the first priming you did it more by feel than sight. This is where the fun would come into play. Now an old boy with a twisted sense of humor could take advantage of a young puller. John would slip up the row ahead of you very quietly. As you came along doing your job and reaching for the lower leaves to pull, he would grab your hand and scream. To say the least it was unsettling. Most of the time when it happened to me, I was close to the point of passing out. Now the rest of the pullers got quite a laugh out this. But then for the next two hours or so I would be so gun-shy half the ripe leaves didn't get picked.

                      Now, to get back at this old boy for his jokes, I thought long and hard. It so happened that one day at the tobacco barn, Donnie killed a large black snake. These things are harmless, but the Luggart brothers hated snakes. However, Donnie jumped, yelled, and beat at the snake with a tobacco stick till after a fashion he did kill the snake. Now he had me go into the barn to get rid of the carcass. I took the dead snake and threw it in the woods. A little while later John drove up in his truck and my chance was at hand. While he and Donnie worked inside the barn I was left outside with a chore to do. I went down in the woods and retrieved the poor dead snake. I took the snake and wrapped it around the steering column of Johns truck. The head was looking at the driver from over the horn in the middle of the steering wheel. The trap was set. It wasn't long before they came out of the barn. There was some small talk and then the plan went wrong. Donnie was going to town for some twine or something. At this time John says, “You take my truck. It’s full of gas.” I was shocked at this turn of events. I stood there mute as Donnie got in the truck with the snake. The truck was started and then it left. I was about to feel relieved that he had failed to see the snake. My relief didn't take long to disappear. There was a horrifying scream and a short fat man bailed from the moving truck. Now the truck, driven by a dead snake, went for about another fifty yards and died. As John and I stood there watching, he thought maybe a bee or hornet had got in the cab with Donnie.

                      As we approached Donnie he was not smiling at all. He was busy brushing the dirt off himself and muttering. John asked him just what in the world was going on. Donnie said everything was going fine till a snake crawled down on his feet. Said he didn't have time to see what kind it was he was to busy giving it the truck. Donnie was not about to go near the truck so I went to see if the snake was still there. I took a tobacco stick with me in case the snake was still there. I looked back at the brothers as I approached the truck. They waved me on. I guessed that the snake was still there and still dead. I put on a good act. I jumped back and yelled “Snake.” These old boys are yelling “Kill it.” So I started beating this poor dead snake. After a while, I picked the snake up on the end of the tobacco stick and held it in the air like a trophy. As I walked back toward them with the snake, they yelled for me to throw the thing in the woods. This I was glad to do, just in case Donnie may have recognized his earlier kill. They got a good laugh out of this joke gone wrong though they never knew the whole thing had been planned. It didn't turn out the way I had planned but still we ended up with a good laugh.

                      The summer progressed with a lot of work and a lot of fun. The people down in Little Pete raised tobacco for the most part. This was a good business to be in for the money was good. Most of the kids I ran around with down that way had their own car or truck. So after work I spent a lot of my time going here, there, and yonder. I did not have any need of money most of the time. The others took care of me. I guess I was just a hired hand and they knew that I didn't have a lot of spending money. Whatever their reasons, I was grateful. We all seemed to spend a lot of time just sitting around on the cars and trucks shooting the breeze. Now, most of the time this did involve a beer or two. We seldom got really wasted, since we had to work the next day.

                      Comment


                      • #12
                        is 109... a bomb?

                        The number that won't go away...
                        Just ran across this earlier-
                        https://ew.com/movies/2019/01/24/rob...film-festival/

                        So where does Robert Redford go from here?

                        Back to what earned him his first Academy Award: directing. He’ll be heading up 109 East Palace, about J. Robert Oppenheimer and the creation of the atomic bomb in 1940, “a character study about all the scientists and physicists he pulled in to do this, and the tension between them,” he told EW. He will also serve as producer on the project, which begins shooting in late spring, with casting to be announced.

                        ...in Santa Fe, interesting.

                        109 miles out from the eye~

                        Click image for larger version

Name:	Screenshot_20181230-223559_Earth.jpg
Views:	2433
Size:	101.4 KB
ID:	83707
                        Click image for larger version

Name:	Screenshot_20181230-224459_Earth.jpg
Views:	2381
Size:	55.9 KB
ID:	83708
                        Click image for larger version

Name:	Screenshot_20181230-225136_Earth.jpg
Views:	2387
Size:	85.5 KB
ID:	83709

                        as for Mr Redford... You have my attention, and respect sir.
                        https://www.washingtonpost.com/opini...=.26641ddd6f5d

                        Comment


                        • #13
                          Originally posted by Castellaw1685 View Post
                          is 109... a bomb?

                          The number that won't go away...
                          Just ran across this earlier-
                          https://ew.com/movies/2019/01/24/rob...film-festival/

                          So where does Robert Redford go from here?

                          Back to what earned him his first Academy Award: directing. He’ll be heading up 109 East Palace, about J. Robert Oppenheimer and the creation of the atomic bomb in 1940, “a character study about all the scientists and physicists he pulled in to do this, and the tension between them,” he told EW. He will also serve as producer on the project, which begins shooting in late spring, with casting to be announced.

                          ...in Santa Fe, interesting.

                          109 miles out from the eye~

                          Click image for larger version

Name:	Screenshot_20181230-223559_Earth.jpg
Views:	2433
Size:	101.4 KB
ID:	83707
                          Click image for larger version

Name:	Screenshot_20181230-224459_Earth.jpg
Views:	2381
Size:	55.9 KB
ID:	83708
                          Click image for larger version

Name:	Screenshot_20181230-225136_Earth.jpg
Views:	2387
Size:	85.5 KB
ID:	83709

                          as for Mr Redford... You have my attention, and respect sir.
                          https://www.washingtonpost.com/opini...=.26641ddd6f5d
                          That sounds like it will be really interesting. One of my favorite movies of his is The Last Castle.

                          Comment


                          • #14
                            Originally posted by MWise725 View Post

                            That sounds like it will be really interesting. One of my favorite movies of his is The Last Castle.
                            I recently watched that on Netflix for like the 4th time. I still think Sneakers will always be my favorite Redford movie.
                            https://youtu.be/ca9ub9rpNK4

                            Comment


                            • #15
                              Originally posted by Castellaw1685 View Post
                              Got my eye on U all~

                              Click image for larger version Name:	bigeye.jpg Views:	22 Size:	107.6 KB ID:	83651

                              a challenge for someone to finish this work of art...
                              finish the story...

                              Looks like the fish or 8 is at a 109 degree angle. Warm water halts at 109 deg f. Boiling river

                              Comment

                              Working...
                              X