All About Pocket Knives

That shirt!

zoogirl wrote:That shirt!

Don’t encourage him!

Ken

Love that shirt Jerry! Somehow it just fits you! ftd

Jerry

Ken.
One of my cousin's gave that to me about three years ago at Cousin's Reunion. She got it at Walmart. I love it and only wear it for special occasions.

......jerry, the shirt is priceless!!!!!.................. ..............

Ya know guys, I’ve been looking over all your pics, and I’ve come to a realization...
If I really want to fit in here, I’m gonna have to stop plucking my ‘old lady beard’ and let it rip! I may need a hat of some sort too, and a tractor would definately be an asset!

zoogirl wrote:Ya know guys, I’ve been looking over all your pics, and I’ve come to a realization...
If I really want to fit in here, I’m gonna have to stop plucking my ‘old lady beard’ and let it rip! I may need a hat of some sort too, and a tractor would definately be an asset!

Well I don't think changing your looks or what you wear is in order, but now you might want to think about getting a tractor!

zoogirl wrote:Ya know guys, I’ve been looking over all your pics, and I’ve come to a realization...
If I really want to fit in here, I’m gonna have to stop plucking my ‘old lady beard’ and let it rip! I may need a hat of some sort too, and a tractor would definately be an asset!

Please, do not stop plucking your 'old lady beard' they will grow into walrus tusk hairs.

Ann, there ain’t nothing wrong with the fairer sex doing some strategic plucking. But I would highly encourage you to get a hat and a tractor!!!

jerryd6818 wrote:Ken.

blowing-raspberries-clipart-YKPZ7K.jpg

One of my cousin's gave that to me about three years ago at Cousin's Reunion. She got it at Walmart. I love it and only wear it for special occasions.

Fantastic tee shirt, just love it. But wear it sparingly, for 2 reasons, 1-you do not want to wear it out, they have a limited lifetime. 2-Someone will find offence with it, and you will have it confiscated.

cudgee wrote:

jerryd6818 wrote:Ken.

blowing-raspberries-clipart-YKPZ7K.jpg

One of my cousin's gave that to me about three years ago at Cousin's Reunion. She got it at Walmart. I love it and only wear it for special occasions.

Fantastic tee shirt, just love it. But wear it sparingly, for 2 reasons, 1-you do not want to wear it out, they have a limited lifetime. 2-Someone will find offence with it, and you will have it confiscated.

Thank God, the one thing we don't do yet is confiscate t-shirts. Yet.

jerryd6818 wrote:

cudgee wrote:

jerryd6818 wrote:Ken.

blowing-raspberries-clipart-YKPZ7K.jpg

One of my cousin's gave that to me about three years ago at Cousin's Reunion. She got it at Walmart. I love it and only wear it for special occasions.

Fantastic tee shirt, just love it. But wear it sparingly, for 2 reasons, 1-you do not want to wear it out, they have a limited lifetime. 2-Someone will find offence with it, and you will have it confiscated.

Thank God, the one thing we don't do yet is confiscate t-shirts. Yet.

EXACTLY - YET.

Few years ago in Minnesota -10 deg and happy truck is still running

zoogirl wrote:Ya know guys, I’ve been looking over all your pics, and I’ve come to a realization...
If I really want to fit in here, I’m gonna have to stop plucking my ‘old lady beard’ and let it rip! I may need a hat of some sort too, and a tractor would definately be an asset!

You'll need a slingshot in your back pocket too.

samb1955 wrote:

zoogirl wrote:Ya know guys, I’ve been looking over all your pics, and I’ve come to a realization...
If I really want to fit in here, I’m gonna have to stop plucking my ‘old lady beard’ and let it rip! I may need a hat of some sort too, and a tractor would definately be an asset!

You'll need a slingshot in your back pocket too.

You know how hard it is to take a pic of your own...ahem...back pocket?!
This will have to do!

Almost blew my coffee all over myself!!

Great photo Ann!

JnBama wrote:11219524_734663266640334_7537852980084342491_n.jpg
Few years ago in Minnesota -10 deg and happy truck is still running

JnBama -10 is not my favorite. Used to live in Cleveland Oh and hated frozen gas lines and ruptured batteries. I've opted for cremation as I just don't want to be that cold anymore.

Ann you are prepared for any Goliath you might meet.

doglegg wrote:

JnBama wrote:11219524_734663266640334_7537852980084342491_n.jpg
Few years ago in Minnesota -10 deg and happy truck is still running

JnBama -10 is not my favorite. Used to live in Cleveland Oh and hated frozen gas lines and ruptured batteries. I've opted for cremation as I just don't want to be that cold anymore.

I don't like the cold and got a local driving job in the spring. My sister suggested move up to Iowa and heck no ! experienced -60 wind chill up there 20 years ago

We were out of school Monday and Tuesday, so today in my Spanish classes we had our Día de los Muertos party. They researched foods and decorations and made them. I’m stuffed and we have enough decorations for two rooms. They even decorated me. This might be an improvement!

doglegg wrote: ↑Sat Sep 21, 2019 2:22 pm

JnBama wrote:11219524_734663266640334_7537852980084342491_n.jpg
Few years ago in Minnesota -10 deg and happy truck is still running

JnBama -10 is not my favorite. Used to live in Cleveland Oh and hated frozen gas lines and ruptured batteries. I've opted for cremation as I just don't want to be that cold anymore.

You and ol' Sam McGee. My favorite poem.

Ken

The Cremation of Sam McGee
BY ROBERT W. SERVICE

There are strange things done in the midnight sun
By the men who moil for gold;
The Arctic trails have their secret tales
That would make your blood run cold;
The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,
But the queerest they ever did see
Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge
I cremated Sam McGee.

Now Sam McGee was from Tennessee, where the cotton blooms and blows.
Why he left his home in the South to roam 'round the Pole, God only knows.
He was always cold, but the land of gold seemed to hold him like a spell;
Though he'd often say in his homely way that "he'd sooner live in hell."

On a Christmas Day we were mushing our way over the Dawson trail.
Talk of your cold! through the parka's fold it stabbed like a driven nail.
If our eyes we'd close, then the lashes froze till sometimes we couldn't see;
It wasn't much fun, but the only one to whimper was Sam McGee.

And that very night, as we lay packed tight in our robes beneath the snow,
And the dogs were fed, and the stars o'erhead were dancing heel and toe,
He turned to me, and "Cap," says he, "I'll cash in this trip, I guess;
And if I do, I'm asking that you won't refuse my last request."

Well, he seemed so low that I couldn't say no; then he says with a sort of moan:
"It's the cursèd cold, and it's got right hold till I'm chilled clean through to the bone.
Yet 'tain't being dead—it's my awful dread of the icy grave that pains;
So I want you to swear that, foul or fair, you'll cremate my last remains."

A pal's last need is a thing to heed, so I swore I would not fail;
And we started on at the streak of dawn; but God! he looked ghastly pale.
He crouched on the sleigh, and he raved all day of his home in Tennessee;
And before nightfall a corpse was all that was left of Sam McGee.

There wasn't a breath in that land of death, and I hurried, horror-driven,
With a corpse half hid that I couldn't get rid, because of a promise given;
It was lashed to the sleigh, and it seemed to say: "You may tax your brawn and brains,
But you promised true, and it's up to you to cremate those last remains."

Now a promise made is a debt unpaid, and the trail has its own stern code.
In the days to come, though my lips were dumb, in my heart how I cursed that load.
In the long, long night, by the lone firelight, while the huskies, round in a ring,
Howled out their woes to the homeless snows— O God! how I loathed the thing.

And every day that quiet clay seemed to heavy and heavier grow;
And on I went, though the dogs were spent and the grub was getting low;
The trail was bad, and I felt half mad, but I swore I would not give in;
And I'd often sing to the hateful thing, and it hearkened with a grin.

Till I came to the marge of Lake Lebarge, and a derelict there lay;
It was jammed in the ice, but I saw in a trice it was called the "Alice May."
And I looked at it, and I thought a bit, and I looked at my frozen chum;
Then "Here," said I, with a sudden cry, "is my cre-ma-tor-eum."

Some planks I tore from the cabin floor, and I lit the boiler fire;
Some coal I found that was lying around, and I heaped the fuel higher;
The flames just soared, and the furnace roared—such a blaze you seldom see;
And I burrowed a hole in the glowing coal, and I stuffed in Sam McGee.

Then I made a hike, for I didn't like to hear him sizzle so;
And the heavens scowled, and the huskies howled, and the wind began to blow.
It was icy cold, but the hot sweat rolled down my cheeks, and I don't know why;
And the greasy smoke in an inky cloak went streaking down the sky.

I do not know how long in the snow I wrestled with grisly fear;
But the stars came out and they danced about ere again I ventured near;
I was sick with dread, but I bravely said: "I'll just take a peep inside.
I guess he's cooked, and it's time I looked"; ... then the door I opened wide.

And there sat Sam, looking cool and calm, in the heart of the furnace roar;
And he wore a smile you could see a mile, and he said: "Please close that door.
It's fine in here, but I greatly fear you'll let in the cold and storm—
Since I left Plumtree, down in Tennessee, it's the first time I've been warm."

There are strange things done in the midnight sun
By the men who moil for gold;
The Arctic trails have their secret tales
That would make your blood run cold;
The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,
But the queerest they ever did see
Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge
I cremated Sam McGee.

Thanks Ken, been a while since I read Sam McGee.

Oh my word, I have never read that, but I was never big on poetry either. Very good though!!