Halloween is approaching. We still have time to get in some good Halloween stories. ghost stories, UFO encounters, wild animal encounters. I'm giving you a lot of leeway with this one. It's a great and fun holiday, so have fun. Share your story with us.
Here's mine.
I had an experience as a child of hearing what I thought and still to this day believe to be ghost footsteps. It started like this:
I had a pet chihuahua named Blackie who lived to be about eight years old. I must have been 9 or 10 . It was winter and Blackie was going to have puppies. One extremely cold night she went outside to relieve herself as she did every night before we went to bed. She would always scratch the door to come in. That night she never scratched to come back in and no one noticed she hadn't come back in before we all went to bed. The next morning we found her in her outside doghouse. She had
died in the middle of giving birth. She and all the puppies were dead. Frozen stiff. I loved Blackie and didn't want her and her puppies to die.
Now Blackie had long toenails that clicked on the hardwood floor of our hallway. At some time during the night, she would leave her bed and walk down the hallway past my room. My door was always open. I would hear her coming and would look toward the door and see her walk past. One night after she had died, in the quiet stillness of the night, I was not quite asleep when I heard the identical sound of Blackie's toenails clicking down the hallway, coming toward my door. I turned my head toward the door. Now I was frozen stiff, staring at the door. The toenails, without wavering, continued right past my door as I stared and saw nothing. Nearly frightened me to death. I never forgot that experience. Even today as I watch shows like "Ghost Hunters", I'm surprised at the number of people who claim to hear footsteps. Maybe there was something there.
Share with us YOUR ghost story.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Friday, September 18, 2009
Let's Share Nostalgia
An aid to prevent alzheimer's disease from stealing my memories. Now, if I can just remember my password.
Hi. I'm Greg. I'm excited to start with your help and enthusiastic input, a blog to jog those nearly forgotten memories of our mostly misspent youth. You know, the times NOT spent working. Remember those? I want to take you back to your youth. I'll tell you my most memorable moments if you tell me yours. Let's share our nostalgia.
I know Christmas is just around the corner. Here's one of my favorite early Christmas stories.
I remember the year, 1968. I was 13. My mother was a widow. And had met a pretty nice guy named Bud. Bud was a disabled Korea War veteran. His feet had frozen during one of the extremely cold winters in Korea while he was pinned down in a foxhole for several days. He had been in the service 12 years. He could walk, but his feet would swell daily and cause him pain. He still liked to hunt and fish and took me with him all the time. We became friends. This year, with Christmas approaching, Bud started smiling at me saying things like,"OK, Sam. You had better start saving your money because this year your Christmas present is going to need to be fed." I thought it meant we were getting a horse or dog or some kind of animal. We had a small pasture and had had a horse or 2 along the way. I would have been happy with that except usually the horses we got weren't well trained and not always easy to ride. That took some of the fun out of it for me. But on Christmas morning when I opened this medium size box. I was surprised to find a helmet there. Mom had done it again. There I stood again with a puzzled look on my face. "Well, do you like it?, she asked." I had no clue what was going to happen next. "Let's see what's outside." she said. We walked out on the front porch, and there sat a Honda P-50 motorcycle. The perfect size for me. As tall as a motorcycle but with a much smaller motor. I couldn't believe they had bought me a motorcycle. "Start out slow now and no getting on the highway," she said. Wasn't she something? Mom is still living. She's in a nursing home near where I live. She is 86 years old now. I send my daughter to pick her up and bring her to my house every Sunday afternoon for a visit. She is fine. She actually shares a room in the nursing home with her 91 year old sister. We all miss Bud. He died in 2002.
Share your favorite memories with us in the comment box. That's what this website is all about.
An aid to prevent alzheimer's disease from stealing my memories. Now, if I can just remember my password.
Hi. I'm Greg. I'm excited to start with your help and enthusiastic input, a blog to jog those nearly forgotten memories of our mostly misspent youth. You know, the times NOT spent working. Remember those? I want to take you back to your youth. I'll tell you my most memorable moments if you tell me yours. Let's share our nostalgia.
I know Christmas is just around the corner. Here's one of my favorite early Christmas stories.
I remember the year, 1968. I was 13. My mother was a widow. And had met a pretty nice guy named Bud. Bud was a disabled Korea War veteran. His feet had frozen during one of the extremely cold winters in Korea while he was pinned down in a foxhole for several days. He had been in the service 12 years. He could walk, but his feet would swell daily and cause him pain. He still liked to hunt and fish and took me with him all the time. We became friends. This year, with Christmas approaching, Bud started smiling at me saying things like,"OK, Sam. You had better start saving your money because this year your Christmas present is going to need to be fed." I thought it meant we were getting a horse or dog or some kind of animal. We had a small pasture and had had a horse or 2 along the way. I would have been happy with that except usually the horses we got weren't well trained and not always easy to ride. That took some of the fun out of it for me. But on Christmas morning when I opened this medium size box. I was surprised to find a helmet there. Mom had done it again. There I stood again with a puzzled look on my face. "Well, do you like it?, she asked." I had no clue what was going to happen next. "Let's see what's outside." she said. We walked out on the front porch, and there sat a Honda P-50 motorcycle. The perfect size for me. As tall as a motorcycle but with a much smaller motor. I couldn't believe they had bought me a motorcycle. "Start out slow now and no getting on the highway," she said. Wasn't she something? Mom is still living. She's in a nursing home near where I live. She is 86 years old now. I send my daughter to pick her up and bring her to my house every Sunday afternoon for a visit. She is fine. She actually shares a room in the nursing home with her 91 year old sister. We all miss Bud. He died in 2002.
Share your favorite memories with us in the comment box. That's what this website is all about.
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