Sunday… Are your clothes old enough to vote?

 Picture of the day:

Now for today’s stuff:

I grew up in a home with parents who were raised as Georgia farmers. My food was great but simple: potatoes (Irish & sweet), corn, cabbage, green beans, butter beans, tomatoes, apples and pears.

I then left home and was shocked by STRICT dedicated Drill Instructors. But there were small things, food was one thing, much of it foreign to me.

There were those little bitty baby cabbages, I never saw a head of cabbage that little in any of mamas gardens. Yep I ate things that my mates had to tell me what I was eating, such as: Brussels sprouts, Broccoli and asparagus.

I dated Margaret for awhile. She introduced me to olives. I liked ‘em. So I grabbed some from the bar, I about broke my teeth, I had no idea they had SEEDS how was I to know they had replaced the seeds with that red stuff for Margaret.

And I sure didn’t know anyone cooked with olive oil. I thought that was only for anointing Jews and Christians then praying for them.

I was just about old enough to vote, when my education in life began. Now that I am getting real smart it is about time to sign off from life. Now my clothes are old enough to vote before I realize Florsheim Shoes are not cool. I have a pair about 50 years old. I paid $35 for ‘em. I gotta find a cobbler and get them half soled.

Torn dungarees are about out of style before I realized those girls weren’t poor and in need of new clothes, they were cool.

Okay, too much, too scattered, but that is my mind. My snack is getting old enough to vote!  LOL

Nite Shipslog

PS: If you are still reading, thanks for stopping by..