You're right Ed. We have no plans for another dog. I am very afraid of making comparisons and that wouldn't be fair to the new one. Besides, I am close to retirement so we want the freedom to have a travel bag ready and just get up and go on a moments notice. Last minute deals can be great and aren't so hard on your retirement nest egg. We plan to go by train, ship, plane and of course the trailer and want the freedom to not worry about a return date.
Now, if only the phone would stop ringing so I could actually retire. 🙂
When you get down this way I can lend you a ladder and roof or two to look at. Just so you get to feel still needed.
Have ladder, will travel. 🙂
I hope everything has gone well with the roof on your shop. I haven't heard you mention anything so I think that must be good news.
I hope everything has gone well with the roof on your shop. I haven't heard you mention anything so I think that must be good news.
Oh yes you certainly thanked me. I am just doing a follow up. All good clients deserve a little extra attention.
The three hardest things to say:
1. I am sorry
2. I need help
3. Worcestershire Sauce
1. I am sorry
2. I need help
3. Worcestershire Sauce
I went to Walmart today, and I was there for literally 5 minutes.
When I came out there was a state trooper writing a parking ticket for being in a handicap spot.
So I went up to him and said, "Come on, buddy, how about giving a guy a break?"
He ignored me and continued writing the ticket. So I called him a pencil-necked cop. He glared at me and started writing another ticket for worn tires!
So I then asked him if his psychiatrist makes him lie face down on the couch cause he's so ugly.
He finished the second ticket and put it on the windshield with the first. Then he started writing a third ticket!
This went on until he had placed 5 tickets on the windshield... the more I insulted him, the more tickets he wrote.
I didn't care. My car was parked around the corner.
When I came out there was a state trooper writing a parking ticket for being in a handicap spot.
So I went up to him and said, "Come on, buddy, how about giving a guy a break?"
He ignored me and continued writing the ticket. So I called him a pencil-necked cop. He glared at me and started writing another ticket for worn tires!
So I then asked him if his psychiatrist makes him lie face down on the couch cause he's so ugly.
He finished the second ticket and put it on the windshield with the first. Then he started writing a third ticket!
This went on until he had placed 5 tickets on the windshield... the more I insulted him, the more tickets he wrote.
I didn't care. My car was parked around the corner.
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FYI, just thought I would let posters on this thread know, you are bringing joy to to those in need. I have been sharing many of the posts with a young person suffering from a serious medical condition.
She thanks you all for the laughs.
She thanks you all for the laughs.
When I read this, I heard Rodney Dangerfield in my head. I needed that.
'In a youth, far far away'...
Unlike many 13 year olds I was quite sure of what I wanted to do when I "grew up". "Something to do with metalwork and making things", I thought. As I got older, opportunities arose to allow me to learn, without killing myself, or others for that matter. Doing reasonably well at secondary school I continued in this vein (taking motorcycles apart in the cellar and washing the bits in the bath, (thank God for Vim cleaner)), until fifteen and a half, and thought about what I would do at sixteen, stay on for higher "A" levels or get a job. At that time, jobs for youngsters were plentiful, I applied for three and got two acceptances. The third was an invite for an interview and entrance test, it was for an indentured apprenticeship. (One where papers are signed to cover the term of the training, in this case to the age of twenty). This interview was at the offices of a manufacturer of large power station and main grid transformers. On a site covering about eight acres. As the company also had a division that made aircraft (and I was so wide eyed as not to understand the differentiation at this point), my head was in the clouds as I prepared for my interview.
The day dawned, and smartly dressed, I took the bus for the one and a half hour trip to the company. Walking straight past the security gate I was shouted back by the guard, after due introductions and excuses and feeling very embarrassed I was sat in a side office with 5 other seemingly equally nervous young men. After a short while, an older boy, in light brown overalls came through the door and broke the deafening silence. "Hello, I'm Colin, I'm a second year here and I'll take you up to see Mr Halls", (He was the senior training officer), "just follow me".
We walked up a paved yard, round a corner, up flights of steps, (we weren't allowed to use the lift), around more corners and along a wide corridor (the company had been on the same site, growing, for over eighty or so years), above a main fabrication bay (we could hear the cranes and the banging below our slightly vibrating floor, (that was the cranes)) into a bright pristine workshop, of about 80ft x 50 ft (if memory serves me correctly), neatly lined with machines on one side and benches on the other. At the far end were some closed in bays on the left and another office on the right, with six desks and six drawing boards. We each were shown a desk and asked to sit. Colin left, and we all looked at each other nervously. After a short while in came Mr Halls, he introduced himself and gave us each four pieces of paper, two plain lined and two with questions on each side. He told us that we should answer all questions and that we had one and a half hours for the test. He said nothing else. The nervousness did not recede.
Half the questions were maths based and half geometry based. The time vanished and Mr Halls was back to collect the papers. He left the room for a shortish time and came back into the room looking a bit like a cross between Robert Mitchum and John Wayne, as if slowly walking to a gunfight (it just struck me that way). He was talking and said, "well, I don't think any of you lot will be coming back", (He never was much of a diplomat I later found out!). We all left the room as if at a funeral and made our ways out and me home, a bit depressed. That evening I told my mother what had happened, and she said not to worry and just to wait and see, making me happier with a cup of tea and a home made jam tart (life was simple in those days!!).
#To be continued (if requested).
Unlike many 13 year olds I was quite sure of what I wanted to do when I "grew up". "Something to do with metalwork and making things", I thought. As I got older, opportunities arose to allow me to learn, without killing myself, or others for that matter. Doing reasonably well at secondary school I continued in this vein (taking motorcycles apart in the cellar and washing the bits in the bath, (thank God for Vim cleaner)), until fifteen and a half, and thought about what I would do at sixteen, stay on for higher "A" levels or get a job. At that time, jobs for youngsters were plentiful, I applied for three and got two acceptances. The third was an invite for an interview and entrance test, it was for an indentured apprenticeship. (One where papers are signed to cover the term of the training, in this case to the age of twenty). This interview was at the offices of a manufacturer of large power station and main grid transformers. On a site covering about eight acres. As the company also had a division that made aircraft (and I was so wide eyed as not to understand the differentiation at this point), my head was in the clouds as I prepared for my interview.
The day dawned, and smartly dressed, I took the bus for the one and a half hour trip to the company. Walking straight past the security gate I was shouted back by the guard, after due introductions and excuses and feeling very embarrassed I was sat in a side office with 5 other seemingly equally nervous young men. After a short while, an older boy, in light brown overalls came through the door and broke the deafening silence. "Hello, I'm Colin, I'm a second year here and I'll take you up to see Mr Halls", (He was the senior training officer), "just follow me".
We walked up a paved yard, round a corner, up flights of steps, (we weren't allowed to use the lift), around more corners and along a wide corridor (the company had been on the same site, growing, for over eighty or so years), above a main fabrication bay (we could hear the cranes and the banging below our slightly vibrating floor, (that was the cranes)) into a bright pristine workshop, of about 80ft x 50 ft (if memory serves me correctly), neatly lined with machines on one side and benches on the other. At the far end were some closed in bays on the left and another office on the right, with six desks and six drawing boards. We each were shown a desk and asked to sit. Colin left, and we all looked at each other nervously. After a short while in came Mr Halls, he introduced himself and gave us each four pieces of paper, two plain lined and two with questions on each side. He told us that we should answer all questions and that we had one and a half hours for the test. He said nothing else. The nervousness did not recede.
Half the questions were maths based and half geometry based. The time vanished and Mr Halls was back to collect the papers. He left the room for a shortish time and came back into the room looking a bit like a cross between Robert Mitchum and John Wayne, as if slowly walking to a gunfight (it just struck me that way). He was talking and said, "well, I don't think any of you lot will be coming back", (He never was much of a diplomat I later found out!). We all left the room as if at a funeral and made our ways out and me home, a bit depressed. That evening I told my mother what had happened, and she said not to worry and just to wait and see, making me happier with a cup of tea and a home made jam tart (life was simple in those days!!).
#To be continued (if requested).
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