Okay, here I go . A few old friends and a couple of family members have suggested I either go on Facebook or write a column for a paper . I'm flattered but not very confident in my skills as a writer so I thought I would try this , an e mail to my good friends and family to see what you think .
I'm not college educated nor a man of profound thought , but I do enjoy writing and reading , cooking , fishing , boating and a host of other things . It seems like at this time in my life it might be a good time to share my thoughts and memories . I don't mean to sound egotistical or self serving , I merely want to spin a yarn or two .
When I was 5 and 6 years old we lived in the Santa Cruz Mtns. in what was at one time an old resort called Woodwardia with a pool (that was completely unusable due to poor construction and maintenance ) and three little cabins on the property down the hill from the main house . My dad worked a lot of overtime at Falstaff to buy this place . He also bought my Mom a green Buick with white upholstery. I think it was a convertible and in real good shape . My Mom didn't know how to drive but she learned on those empty roads amongst the redwoods and ferns . Probably squished more than a few banana slugs on the road as those yellow critters were everywhere . I went to school in Los Gatos for kindergarten and then to Loma Prieta Elementary for first and second grade . My sisters went to Los Gatos for high school . My brother was born in this time frame , I think it was 59 or there abouts . My sisters teased me some as older sibilings do, as I later tormented my little brother .
It was a good time in my young life . Dad brought home a Boxer dog from somebody he worked with at the brewery ! It had killed some chickens and Dad took it in . It was a Brindle Boxer named Brandy . A big dog with a big heart . I loved that dog and my time wandering through the forest with our big old Boxer at my side . We had a horse and raised rabbits . Not the pet kind of bunnies . These were raised for food . I watched as Dad killed and skinned them and then I'd take them up to the house for mom to clean and butcher . It was pretty brutal but I learned a lot . We ate a lot of rabbit back then and it was good . My Mom would feed the horse a beer and an egg mixed in with its oats , supposedly helping give it a shiny coat .
This is where I learned to ride a two wheeler and shoot my Dad's Winchester 22. He was a very good shot and could shoot the mistletoe off the oak trees on our property to hang in our big old rambling house on Christmas . I 've still got that gun , Dad gave it to me years ago and it still shoots straight as an arrow . Kinda like my Dad ... old , reliable and a straight shooter, and looks good too!
So I've got some beef stew on the stove that needs to be stirred and a fire that needs to be stoked , bring in more wood and get ready for the next little snow storm . Let me know if this is okay to send you stuff like this . My intent is not to bore you so if you don't care for this no hard feelings . I will write more about my take on politics and the world at large as time allows . Take care , Bob of the boat . p.s thanks to Jim for the idea of Porter's Corner
I'm not college educated nor a man of profound thought , but I do enjoy writing and reading , cooking , fishing , boating and a host of other things . It seems like at this time in my life it might be a good time to share my thoughts and memories . I don't mean to sound egotistical or self serving , I merely want to spin a yarn or two .
When I was 5 and 6 years old we lived in the Santa Cruz Mtns. in what was at one time an old resort called Woodwardia with a pool (that was completely unusable due to poor construction and maintenance ) and three little cabins on the property down the hill from the main house . My dad worked a lot of overtime at Falstaff to buy this place . He also bought my Mom a green Buick with white upholstery. I think it was a convertible and in real good shape . My Mom didn't know how to drive but she learned on those empty roads amongst the redwoods and ferns . Probably squished more than a few banana slugs on the road as those yellow critters were everywhere . I went to school in Los Gatos for kindergarten and then to Loma Prieta Elementary for first and second grade . My sisters went to Los Gatos for high school . My brother was born in this time frame , I think it was 59 or there abouts . My sisters teased me some as older sibilings do, as I later tormented my little brother .
It was a good time in my young life . Dad brought home a Boxer dog from somebody he worked with at the brewery ! It had killed some chickens and Dad took it in . It was a Brindle Boxer named Brandy . A big dog with a big heart . I loved that dog and my time wandering through the forest with our big old Boxer at my side . We had a horse and raised rabbits . Not the pet kind of bunnies . These were raised for food . I watched as Dad killed and skinned them and then I'd take them up to the house for mom to clean and butcher . It was pretty brutal but I learned a lot . We ate a lot of rabbit back then and it was good . My Mom would feed the horse a beer and an egg mixed in with its oats , supposedly helping give it a shiny coat .
This is where I learned to ride a two wheeler and shoot my Dad's Winchester 22. He was a very good shot and could shoot the mistletoe off the oak trees on our property to hang in our big old rambling house on Christmas . I 've still got that gun , Dad gave it to me years ago and it still shoots straight as an arrow . Kinda like my Dad ... old , reliable and a straight shooter, and looks good too!
So I've got some beef stew on the stove that needs to be stirred and a fire that needs to be stoked , bring in more wood and get ready for the next little snow storm . Let me know if this is okay to send you stuff like this . My intent is not to bore you so if you don't care for this no hard feelings . I will write more about my take on politics and the world at large as time allows . Take care , Bob of the boat . p.s thanks to Jim for the idea of Porter's Corner
