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79 years ago today.
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Also a very important date for me. I took my very first real airplane ride 55 years ago today, taking a shiny city bus across Houston, just as the sun was setting, then boarding at Houston's only airport back then Hobby international. Near midnight that night, got off the plane, boarded another bus, but a rather dingy looking, smoke belching haze gray thing, and stepped off a bit later, with a bunch of yelling and screaming onto these. (only a few here will recognize what they are or have stood on them) :

yellowfootprints.jpg

I don't remember much about the plane ride, but very much remember the bus ride across Houston, with the sunset barely still visible as we rode along the high bridge over the ship channel and the city skyline stretching out before us, wondering what was in store...

It was nearly midnight when I stepped onto those now famous footprints and would not sleep until late the next night. Haircuts, shots, uniforms, packing our civilian clothes in a cardboard box, 'marching(didybopping)' to another area in our skivvies, and getting assigned a quonset hut barracks and footlocker to quickly stow our new clothes in, then get dressed in uniform for the 1st time and going to our first classes, then back into a formation of sorts and beginning our PT and close order drill training. Sometime in that long long day, our 1st chow line for breakfast, lunch and an evening meal.

9 weeks later, including a week at rifle range at Camp Pendleton's Edson Range, I was/still am, a US Marine.
Where oh where, did 55 years go??
 
Rain barrel . Catch rain running off the barn to water calf . Had the cow with twins in there before they got moved out and the orphan calf moved in . Temporary pen using hay bales and 2 gates . Came in handy during the January freeze to get the twins out of the freezing rain and cold .
 
Do I spy a net wrap barrel outside the fence?
I only spy a sweet girl, doing fun stuff at that age.
The barrel becomes a distraction for us old farts, partly because that's all we had to play with, and/or partly because we just like barrels.
It's a twisted existence, but you'll grow into it.
 
I never played with barrels (or steel drums) They all came straight from the humble oil refinery dad worked at and were always covered in markings revealing their previous contents like tar, or benzene or acid, and other dangerous chemicals.

I was already leery of closed up steel drums and then arrived in RVN and saw there were about 150 big pallets, each with 3 strapped down 55 gal drums of napalm about 150 yards from where i slept and 75 yards from my work area and they stayed there for 2-3 months till big trucks came one afternoon and hauled them off to 'somewhere. There presence didn't make me feel comfortable at all.
They were left over from something called Thrash Light that took place 2 months before I arrived.
 
My husband modified our buggy backseat for our 14.5 year old blue healer mix (Brindle/black color). Here she is riding with a friend's dog. One part of the seat raises so she can jump on the floor then onto the seat. Most days she has to be picked up. Yep, she is way over weight but stayed a pretty healthy weight when young & active.
 

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I never played with barrels (or steel drums) They all came straight from the humble oil refinery dad worked at and were always covered in markings revealing their previous contents like tar, or benzene or acid, and other dangerous chemicals.

I was already leery of closed up steel drums and then arrived in RVN and saw there were about 150 big pallets, each with 3 strapped down 55 gal drums of napalm about 150 yards from where i slept and 75 yards from my work area and they stayed there for 2-3 months till big trucks came one afternoon and hauled them off to 'somewhere. There presence didn't make me feel comfortable at all.
They were left over from something called Thrash Light that took place 2 months before I arrived.
I can empathize a bit. When I was a younger man there was a missing man here, suspected murder.

He was found the following year, at the bottom of pond, stuffed into a barrel. A few weeks later, a man drove to town on a riding lawnmower and shot the mayor because he was upset about his water bill.

Due to our relatively small population, those murders placed our county on top the list of murders per capita.

Letterman ran with it and joked that we now have a five day waiting period to buy barrels and mowers.

Good thing he didn't hear about the chipper/shredder incident.

Barrels make me skittish to this day, and I won't get close to a lawn mower. I won't even let my wife have a garbage disposal.
 
79 years ago today.
View attachment 41336

View attachment 41337

Also a very important date for me. I took my very first real airplane ride 55 years ago today, taking a shiny city bus across Houston, just as the sun was setting, then boarding at Houston's only airport back then Hobby international. Near midnight that night, got off the plane, boarded another bus, but a rather dingy looking, smoke belching haze gray thing, and stepped off a bit later, with a bunch of yelling and screaming onto these. (only a few here will recognize what they are or have stood on them) :

View attachment 41338

I don't remember much about the plane ride, but very much remember the bus ride across Houston, with the sunset barely still visible as we rode along the high bridge over the ship channel and the city skyline stretching out before us, wondering what was in store...

It was nearly midnight when I stepped onto those now famous footprints and would not sleep until late the next night. Haircuts, shots, uniforms, packing our civilian clothes in a cardboard box, 'marching(didybopping)' to another area in our skivvies, and getting assigned a quonset hut barracks and footlocker to quickly stow our new clothes in, then get dressed in uniform for the 1st time and going to our first classes, then back into a formation of sorts and beginning our PT and close order drill training. Sometime in that long long day, our 1st chow line for breakfast, lunch and an evening meal.

9 weeks later, including a week at rifle range at Camp Pendleton's Edson Range, I was/still am, a US Marine.
Where oh where, did 55 years go??
Very proud of you and thank you for your service. I was 11 55 years ago and my dad had served in Korea. He kept hoping the "Conflict" would end before i got old enough to have to go. It did.
 

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