Lol, one time I replied to
@Briar Lee about some topic... forget which thread... about 2 paragraphs. His reply to me was about 3.5 pages and I think he somehow managed to not only not address, but not even give the faintest most vague reference, to a single thing even remotely related to what I had said... let alone the topic of the thread itself (which I'm about 98% sure he was the OP of)...
Doesn't mean I don't still find him one of the most witty, knowledgeable, and well-humored members here tho...
My father designed and built his Grade A milk barn in 1958 and I still have the original blueprints he had a professional draftsman render for the constructors and approval by the local AFCS Office for a twenty year government loan, my mother paid in full in 1978.
My mother was pregnant with me, the sixth pregnancy she told me about, and since she’d lost the first five, my father and Dr GW Robinson and her mother Myrtle Cahow “Ma” Agee had her on close observation.
There was some considerable doubt about my father’s foxhound Goldie successfully delivering me in a bundle to our humble cabin a half mile South of Bug Tussle Missouri (shown as Hamlet on modern GPS Google Earth maps).
But thankfully Dr GW Robinson in Dimmit Memorial Hospital performed a successful Cesarean section in late April three weeks before Goldie was expected to deliver a little bundle of joy to our doorstep, as was duly noted in Ma Agee’s weekly column in The Index at Hermitage Missouri.
I still get my Social Security deposits three weeks early thanks to that fortuitous event, although I was not, born with a caul.
From my earliest memories my mother and my grandmother had me out in that milk barn being exposed to all the luminaries and dignitaries and professors and historians and sociologists and politicians who congregated at that place to see Ma Agee and her daughter Saydee (in the Ma and Pa series in The Index) and Saydee’s little young’un, which was me.
The various Future Farmers of America chapters in the Ozarks arranged for high school students to come visit my father’s Grade A milk barn, and my mother and grandmother were there to serve refreshments, and inquire of their plans for higher education after graduation.
At that place most safe, peaceful, righteous and good, I also learned countless hymns and ballads to help me on my lifelong campaign to only serve the Master, from all my mentors.
Sing one, Steve Wood
Build my Mansion
Xxxxx
My wife just called and asked what I was doing and I said reading a wonderful book and trying out all the flavors of pipe tobacco I bought yesterday from Wayne Davis.
And she lamented how she had to wait until 3:30 to get her hair colored and the grey removed and wondered if tomorrow we might go see the Soulard Market and The Pompeii Exhibit.
I said could we fit in a visit to Jon’s Pipe Shop in Clayton?
Wayne Davis only sells the Diplomat and Country Gentleman shapes of new Missouri Meerschaum pipes at $15.50 for the Gentleman and $16.50 for the Diplomat, because they are handy to sample English blends like GL Pease’s Westminister.
Maybe the proprietor of Jon’s Pipe Shop in Clayton has a more cosmopolitan selection, you know?
Wayne Davis can wait until Monday.
Drachinfel Origins of HMS Hood
It’s two hours and change to Clayton.
Depending on which route we take, you know? It’s possible to go through Washington Missouri.
Sing one Johnny Horton on the Ed Sullivan Show
Sink The Bismark
