Here's my version of fresh milk, Bessie was the sweetest old cow in the world, I can see grandmama sitting on a stool milking and Bessie's tail slapping grandmama in the face. We put the milk in a huge tin can and carried it down the long driveway to the road for the local dairy to pick up. Here's the best part, grandmama always had fresh homemade bread in the house, I would sit in front of the butter churn while she churned with my little piece of bread in my hands and she opened the churn and put butter on my bread it was the most wonderful thing you can imagine. It has been many many years but I can still remember sitting there waiting until it was time for the butter. There is not a butter in todays market that taste any where close of the real thing years ago. As for the milk , we didn't have a refrigerator and the milkkept in the well and also in the creek during the winter. The milk that was in the house was also called "clabbored milk" . Guess that was probably the term for milk that was not refrigerated. We drank it every day and I ain't dead yet. Now back to Bessie, when our animals would die mostlly due to old age, you cannot imagine the funeral service we grandkids would have in those back pastures. We had funeral services even if we found a dead bird. We always sang the "Old Rugged Cross" and Amazing Grace. It was a sad times when one of the animals died. "King" was killed in an auto accident. Someone down the road wanted to ride King in the Christmas parade in town. He was a black horse, and it was past dark before they got back to the house and someone ran into him about a mile from the house. I still remember to this day how my little heart hurt when he was killed. That has been many years ago , and I loved that horse so much. Thanks for taking me down another memory lane.

 

What an awesome post, Corvette Lady. I really enjoyed reading that. Thanks for taking the time to share with us all.

 

I will bore you with one more story. May have told this on the forum before. To make a long story short, Frankie Avalon was doing commercials for the Sonic Drive in and they used several of our cars in the commercial. Was a little puzzled as several people had asked me for my autograph. Just figured it was because it was our cars, DH was watching the filiming one afternoon when the people watching were saying the lady in the red dress was Frankie's wife. One of DH's buddies spoke up and said "that's not Avalon's wife, she is this man's wife". Only when DH told me what happened that I realized why folks were asking for my autograph.

 

Thank you Lady, for sharin' such a wonderful story.!!! Bessie and King.
Fresh churned butter on fresh baked bread, MMMMMMMmmmmmm!!!

Franky Avalon used to live down the street from my aunt, here in Reno. He wasn't there much, but we saw him from time to time.

 

Hmmmmmmm.....Fresh bread and fresh butta' dippin's .....hmmmmmm....Butta....lots and lots ah butta....

 

Holy! What a neat story, Corvette Lady!!!

 

Back in the ol' days, when we used to party like madmen, we used to go up island to this little town about 30 miles away from the main city we live in. My buddy used to have a lot of friends up there, so when we arrived, the party was always identified right away and we headed over....

Well, this one time, my best friend (who is, for all intents and purposes, my brother today) got right ripped on the ride up. The funny part about that was, he typically wasn't one to get sloppy drunk, but for some reason, this night he thought he would....

At this particular time, I had a 71 Duster with 340 heads, cam and a 4spd in it, but alas, no license. My other buddy used to do the driving whenever this happened.

So, here we are, up in this town, with one very drunk brother.

As the party progresses, our other friend who was quite popular with the ladies, starts to chat a pair up. Well, my brother takes a real likin' to one of them.... a wee thing, probably all of 105 pounds soaking wet.

They chatted as the evening progressed, and things weren't going too bad. At one point, we apparently headed over to Pizza Hut for some growlies and in the parking lot I *apparently* threw my brother on the hood of a parked car because he was acting ***-like. I don't remember that part at all, but he stills talk about that today.... (it was very out of character for me to be tossing my best friends around like bags of flour, so to be honest, I'm not 100% sure that actually happened)...

Anyways, the evening progresses and it's finally time to take the girls home. My brother is in pretty good standing with the one girl by this time, and it appears he might be getting a phone number. Until...




We swing up in front of their place. It's now probably all of 3:00 in the morning... we are drunk... my brother by now is acting rather obnoxiously.....

As the girls are getting out of the car, their neighbor opens the door. He is from a middle eastern country. He starts yelling at us to keep the noise down, people are trying to sleep.

Well.... my brother takes great exception to this notification. And proceeds to yell racial slurs at the fellow. Peppered with some colorful language, if you catch my drift.

Flash back to the bit where I said the girl he was trying to court was all of 105 pounds soaking wet.... she steps back.... winds up...... takes a swing, and decks my brother, flat on the ground. Me and my other buddy durned near pee'd our pants when this done happened, and there's my brother with a stunned look on his face.... lying on the ground.

Needless to say, he didn't get any numbers that night. This story still makes the rounds in my circles today, and provides us hours of laughter thinking of that lil' wee girl takin' my buddy out with one solid swing.

 

Hey Speed, that is one good story. Trust me us little 105 pound folk do carry a lot of punch. Guess I've been about that weigh for the past hundred years, and ain't back down from nottin yet. Always figured no one would come after " a tiny little lady". Came close about 2 months ago in a parking deck with some little old man wanting to run us over.

 

Sometimes the best things come in the smallest packages. Nice work, Corvette Lady!! Don't take no gruff from nobody!

 

That was funny!
My Rosa, snatched a 6' kid, she's only 5'7", one handed, by the coller, and lifted him over backwards, to rest on top of the kitchen counter. She doesn't like people in the way when she's cookin'. The kid stays out of Rosa's kitchen now!!! Now calls her "Momma Rosa", and came to wish her a happy Mother's Day, with flowers in hand!