It’s Veteran’s Day, and we all think about the Veterans in our life today.

I’ve had several, and have posted about a few in the past; my Dad, and my Uncle Chuck.  Both served their country well in WW II, and both paid a price for it.  Daddy suffered from PTSD for years, and Uncle Chuck was crazy as a bed bug odd for the rest of his life!

But, today, I’d like to remember Grandpa.  Not MY grandpa, but my Mother-in-law’s dad, Herb Woodard.

Herb was born in 1909, he married a woman he really loved, treated her like a queen, spoiled her rotten, and put UP with her selfish behavior from 1933 until her death in 1995.

By the time I was 16, all my grandparents were gone. My Mother’s dad died when I was 15 months old, so there was no connection for me to remember.  My grandmothers died two days apart in 1966, one on Wednesday and one Friday of that same week, while we were at the Funeral Home Visitation for the first one no less!

Grandpa Brads died in January of 1968.  I remember it clearly, as it was just after the first Christmas we didn’t go home to Virginia since the Silver Bridge at Point Pleasant, West Virginia fell that November, and Daddy hadn’t mapped out a new route back home.  46 people lost their lives when that bridge fell.  The new bridge wasn’t completed until late in 1968.

He found one pretty quickly in January.

So, when I married in 1977, it was a new experience for me to have grandparents again.  The in-laws came with six grandparents, including a set of Great-Grandparents who were in their 90s.

I was closer to Herb over the years, mainly because he was around more.  The sun rose and set on my wife in his eyes.  Grandma was worse about it, referring to my wife and her sisters as “Diane and the girls.”  They had names, but you might not catch them if you talked to Grandma.  But that’s a story for another post!

Herb was the baby of his family.  His Dad, Andrew left the family when Herb was a youngster, as he would say, moved to another town, six miles away, and married another woman.  He started a new family there.

Herb didn’t see his dad much, and in all the years I knew Grandpa, he spoke of him only once.

In 1933, he married Grandma (Eula), a spoiled, but loving woman, and he doted on her.  When he knew that Uncle Sam was about to call him UP, he joined the US Navy and became a CB.

The SeaBees are the Construction Battalion of the US Navy.   The boys go back to WW II, it was a new thing then, and Grandpa was proud to be a part of it.  They built bases, bulldozed and paved roadways and airstrips, worked in a vast variety of war theaters.

Grandpa’s was in Alaska.

He often talked of Alaska and how he’d like to have gone back.  He never made it there, he spent too much time taking care of everyone else.

He doted on his granddaughters, cared for his sister-in-law through her final years, cared for his wife through the last stages of Alzheimer’s, going to the Rest Home and sitting with her every day, even though she had no idea he was there.   When she died, he looked at me and said, “Well, I’ve lost my job.”

He treated me like gold.  In all the years I knew him I only heard him say an unkind word about a very few people, you really had to be a rat for Grandpa to comment.

Everyone loved Grandpa; he was an unassuming man whom every one respected;  after very little thought, it’s easy to see why.

He was just a good guy.

Herb died 12 years ago today, on Veteran’s Day 1999.

It was only fitting that he got to ‘muster out’ on that day!

Thanks to all the SeaBees and other Service men and women who have served in wars past.  And thanks to the ones who are serving our country today!

It’s almost Halloween, and kids of all ages are badgering Mom about what to wear.  I won’t be dressing UP this year, we don’t do that at the ‘place where I work’.

But I do remember Halloween costumes as a kid that were either from the 5 and Dime, or things we threw together.

Fortunately, when my kids were little, their Mom used her many creative talents to come UP with memorable costumes.

If you’re wondering what to put your kids in this year, here are a couple of blasts from the past.

Who doesn’t love a Cowboy or Cowgirl!

And my friend Kasie over at Moon Pies, White Lies, and the View From The High Dive’s post the other day inspired me to dig out the Peter Pan and Wendy Halloween pictures from long ago.

That’s Shelby rocking the Wendy look when she was about 7 years old.

And this is just about the best Peter Pan I’ve ever seen.

Sadly, he grew UP!

You may wear your purple old woman,

You can wear your red hat.

But I am young.

I shall wear pink.

I shall work to look young.

Live young.

Think young.

And stay young.

 Pink is the color God gave for my lips.

My thighs.

My legs.

My breasts.

My hips.

Pink is the color of my flesh.

 They are different these colors of pink.

I see the men looking, I know what they think.

They mimic the shades of the flowers I wear in my hair.

That I plant in my garden, with which I cover my chair.

They contrast the glaring, daring, reds of old age.

They tell all the world I’m not yet a sage.

 I have pink boots, and shoes, and gloves, and hats.

I’m sure if I could I’d have some pink cats.

Mamie loved Pink and Ike loved her.

She set fashion, of this I am sure.

The fifties were nifty, and loud and grand.

The pink kept things calmer and smooth as the sand.

*

But as I come in, pink will brighten your room.

 I’ve pinks that are bold, and some that are cold.

Most are quite new, yet some are quite old.

I take a pink pill, and tickle pink babies.

When I’m over the hill, I shall still drink pink ladies.

I’m often confused by colors so bright,

They frighten me more than bumps in the night.

I’m not being mean, when I won’t wear your purple and red.

I’m just being me, so keep that in your head.

 Your blues and browns and earth toned hues

Sicken and sadden and give me the blues.

I don’t lean towards shades of purple and red.

I won’t even wear them after I’m dead.

 So, wear your red hat and your bright purple dress,

I’ll wear my pinks while I’m young, and I’ll look my best!

Think Pinktober!

In honor of those who’ve survived, and in memory of those we’ve lost to Breat Cancer.

*The Dodge LaFemme was a “ladies car”, there were about 2,000 made, the car had Rose Tapestry UPholstery and came with a set of luggage!

Martha Stewart’s daughter has a new book out.

Move over Christina Crawford.

Apparently, Martha won’t win the “Mother of the Year” award that The Redneck Mommy strives for on a daily basis.

How sad.

Alexis, Martha’s 46 year old daughter’s new book, Whateverland: Learning to Live Here comes out October 18.

There are some real ’shockers’, despite the happy family photo op above.

According to some folks, Martha pees with the bathroom door open.

OMG!  It may be tacky, but bad mom?  I don’t think so.

Alexis said she never did anything right growing UP, and that if it wasn’t perfect, she had to do it again.

I’m missing the point here, practice makes perfect ya’ know.

She claims to have “grown UP with a glue gun pointed at her head.”

Well, Mom is crafty afterall.

She also said that Martha isn’t kid friendly, and has signs on the door telling everyone to take their shoes off. 

Buffy, would be so pleased!

But, obviously, Alexis wasn’t.

Alexis says she “harbors no ill will” toward her mother.

Yeah, right.

Frankly, I can’t wait until my kids’ books come out!

Sounds to me like another spoiled brat with no talent of her own making money off mom’s fame!  And, you never know, all that time in the slammer may have softened Martha some, maybe she’ll be a better grandmother.

I’m kinda glad my mom wasn’t rich and famous, she was just mom.

And that’s a good thing!