~ Merry Christmas ~

3 year old Daughter

by Dianne

A father put his 3-year-old daughter to bed, told her a story and listened to her prayers which ended by saying, “God bless Mommy, God bless Daddy, God bless Grandma and goodbye Grandpa.”

The father asked, ‘Why did you say good-bye Grandpa?’

The little girl said, “I don’t know daddy, it just seemed like the thing to do.”

The next day grandpa died. The father thought it was a strange coincidence.

A few months later the father put the girl to bed and listened to her prayers, “God bless Mommy, God Bless Daddy and goodbye Grandma.”

The next day the grandmother died.

“Holy crap” thought the father, “this kid is in contact with the other side.”

Several weeks later when the girl was going to bed the dad heard her say, “God bless Mommy and goodbye Daddy.”

He practically went into shock. He couldn’t sleep all night and got up at the crack of dawn to go to his office. He was nervous as a cat all day, had lunch and watched the clock. He figured if he could get by until midnight he would be okay. He felt safe in the office, so instead of going home at the end of the day he stayed there, drinking coffee, looking at his watch and jumping at every sound. Finally midnight arrived; he breathed a sigh of relief and went home.

When he got home his wife said, “I’ve never seen you work so late. What’s the matter?”

He said, “I don’t want to talk about it, I just had the worst day of my life.”

She said, “You think you had a bad day? You’ll never believe what happened to me. This morning the mailman dropped dead on our porch!”

Old Hillbilly Farmer

by Dianne

An old hillbilly farmer had a wife who nagged him unmercifully. From morning til night (and sometimes later), she was always complaining about something. The only time he got any relief was when he was out plowing with his old mule. He tried to plow a lot.

One day, when he was out plowing, his wife brought him lunch in the field. He drove the old mule into the shade, sat down on a stump, and began to eat his lunch. Immediately, his wife began pestering him. Complain, nag, nag, it just went on and on.

All of a sudden, the old mule lashed out with both hind feet; caught her smack in the back of the head. Killed her dead on the spot.

At the funeral several days later, the minister noticed something rather odd. When a woman mourner would approach the old farmer, he would listen for a minute, then nod his head in agreement; but when a man mourner approached him, he would listen for a minute, then shake his head in disagreement.

This was so consistent, the minister decided to ask the old farmer about it. So after the funeral, the minister spoke to the old farmer, and asked him why he nodded his head and agreed with the women, but always shook his head and disagreed with all the men.

The old farmer said, “Well, the women would come up and say something about how nice my wife looked, or how pretty her dress was, so I’d nod my head in agreement.”

“And what about the men?” the minister asked.

“They wanted to know if the mule was for sale.”

~ Happy Thanksgiving ~

Birch or Beech?

by Dianne

Two tall trees, a birch and a beech, are growing in the woods. A smaller tree begins to grow between them, and the beech says to the birch, 'Is that tree a son of a beech or a son of a birch?'

The birch says he cannot tell, but just then a woodpecker lands on the sapling. 

The birch says, 'Woodpecker, you are a tree expert. Can you tell if that tree is a son of a beech or a son of a birch?' 

The woodpecker takes a taste of the small tree and replies, 'It is neither a son of a beech nor a son of a birch.  It is, however, the best piece of ash I have ever poked my pecker into.'

~ Happy Halloween ~

Letter to Home from New Marine

by Dianne

Dear Ma and Pa:

 

I am well. Hope you are. Tell Brother Walt and Brother Elmer the Marine Corps beats working for old man Minch by a mile. Tell them to join up quick before all of the places are filled.

 

I was restless at first because you get to stay in bed till nearly 6 a.m. But I am getting used to it, so I like to sleep late. Tell Walt and Elmer all you do before breakfast is smooth your cot, and shine some things. No hogs to slop, feed to pitch, mash to mix, wood to split, fire to lay. Practically nothing.

Men got to shave but it is not so bad, there’s warm water. Breakfast is strong on trimmings like fruit juice, cereal, eggs, bacon, etc., but kind of weak on chops, potatoes, ham, steak, fried eggplant, pie and other regular food, but tell Walt and Elmer you can always sit by the two city boys that live on coffee. Their food, plus yours, holds you until noon when you get fed again. It’s no wonder these city boys can’t walk much.

 

We go on “route marches,” which the platoon sergeant says are long walks to harden us. If he thinks so, it’s not my place to tell him different. A “route march” is about as far as to our mailbox at home. Then the city guys get sore feet and we all ride back in trucks.

 

The sergeant is like a school teacher. He nags a lot. The Captain is like the school board. Majors and colonels just ride around and frown. They don’t bother you none.

 

This next will kill Walt and Elmer with laughing. I keep getting medals for shooting. I don’t know why. The bulls-eye is near as big as a chipmunk head and don’t move, and it ain’t shooting at you like the Higgett boys at home. All you got to do is lie there all comfortable and hit it. You don’t even load your own cartridges. They come in boxes.

 

Then we have what they call hand-to-hand combat training. You get to wrestle with them city boys. I have to be real careful though, they break real easy. It ain’t like fighting with that ole bull at home. I’m about the best they got in this except for that Tug Jordan from over in Silver Lake . I only beat him once. He joined up the same time as me, but I’m only 5’6″ and 130 pounds and he’s 6’8″ and near 300 pounds dry.

 

Be sure to tell Walt and Elmer to hurry and join before other fellers get onto this setup and come stampeding in.

 

Your loving daughter,

 

Alice