Never knew my Grandpa(s)

That is the boat on top of the car. you may think surf board, but it is a folda-bote. (I will open it up and show it later.)


Eileen Conrad, our dear friend (mother of the brood in Missouri) Sister of Aunt Nee

Aunt Nee, our favorite host in Lake Park.

Reflective: as you get older you seem to get reflective. I think you remember the good things much more than the bad. It is hard to believe I am actually in the place of my Grandpa when I was a child. Well to be honest I never knew either of my Grandpas. I do however, remember a Great Grandpa. He was G-Grandpa Hilly. He had been a Judge. But he was just my grandpa. He lived in rural North Georgia on a large farm. I don’t remember him ever raising anything on the farm but a couple hogs. He must have had some cows, I just don’t remember them. He probably died when I was between 6 and 8 years old. The reason I think he had cows is he had a corn crib.

Hand dug wells are fascinating, (my dad dug two well I know of.)

Before I go too far, I want to say our trip was 'GREAT'. ***It had little to do with the 'MOTEL'. On the trip we got to visit with some of the wonderful Conrad Family, wish 'Aunt Nee' happy 90th BD. And we bought a boat.! (I ain't talking about the Motel!)

What I remember most (about grandpa Hilly's)was the long kitchen table. IT was rough sawn wood worn smooth by years of use. Chairs on one side and a long bench on the back side. I remember the hand dug well out back. That always interested me and I loved to draw the water. At night, there always seemed to be a fire in the fire place, and peanuts to parch. I think my daddy’s whole family loved peanuts.

Come to think of it, daddy was a peanut farmer when he and mama got married; maybe that is what G-Grandpa raised.

I don’t remember any stories, but I remember them being told and I hung on every word. Everyone drank water and ate peanuts, throwing the shells into the fireplace. I think we had a bucket with a dipper. I was really a ‘city’ boy by then.
The one thing I remember more that everything, G-Grandpa Hilly one day handed me his rifle. It was a single shot 22 calibers. He said go get us something for supper and pointed this six year old boy towards the woods. His only warning was, make sure you shoot away from the farm house, never in this direction. He did give me permission to practice on a tree. I did and it was fun. Of course I did not bring anything back for supper. That was no problem for my grandpa. He already had rabbit for supper. He told me I would have got one for sure, but he had already trapped them. I am sure I stuck my chest out.

Here I am 66 years later remembering a farm in North Georgia. I never in my life, until just now, realized there was no Grandma Hilly. She was long gone. He lived alone. nI just accepted it that way.
Nite Shipslog
PS: Always Remember This:You don't stop laughing because you grow old, You grow old because you stop laughing!!!

*****Note: clarification about the motel: You wish!!!!! hahahahahaha!