Pssssshhh I wish…..more like 8%….kinda windy out, so it really lowers it.Sage advice from a sailor. Couldn’t get farther away on many levels. RH 15% today?
Pssssshhh I wish…..more like 8%….kinda windy out, so it really lowers it.Sage advice from a sailor. Couldn’t get farther away on many levels. RH 15% today?
Or sleeping on the back dash of the sedan. Both my folks smoked, with those tiny triangular windows that popped out. Flick their ashes and land on me sleeping against the back window.Most of the methods our parents used to raise us would be deemed abuse or neglect these days. Hell, from as young as I can remember, I would ride in my dad’s pickup standing up on the bench seat with my hand on his shoulder for stability. Or I was in the back with the dogs
I’ve seen her jump over a six foot fence with a live chicken in her mouth
I used to love sliding around the way back in our woody wagon and banging off the hard ass metal. Dogs would be in the back seat and riding shotgun. Probably abuse now but that was a fun memoryMost of the methods our parents used to raise us would be deemed abuse or neglect these days. Hell, from as young as I can remember, I would ride in my dad’s pickup standing up on the bench seat with my hand on his shoulder for stability. Or I was in the back with the dogs
When I was about 5, my parents had a pinto…..complete with the fake leather bucket seats.Or sleeping on the back dash of the sedan. Both my folks smoked, with those tiny triangular windows that popped out. Flick their ashes and land on me sleeping against the back window.
When I was about 5, my parents had a pinto…..complete with the fake leather bucket seats.
My dad spent the morning washing that, and his pickup….along with putting armor all on all surfaces inside both vehicles.
Couple hours later, him and I got in mom’s pinto and went to the hardware store. We come out, start the car, he lights up a Winston, backs out, and starts slowly driving through the crowded parking lot. As he tries to flick the ash out of the just cracked window, he drops the cigarette between the bucket seat and the door. So, trying to be all smooth…. He opens the door to reach down and find his cigarette, falls out of the still moving car because of the slippery armor all seats. The car, with 5 year old me in it, comes to a halt as it slowly collides with the front corner of the hardware store. My dad’s rolling around on the ground because he ran over his own hand in a pinto, a crowd is beginning to gather, I’m starting to get the distinct feeling that I should probably be crying at the moment, and to make matters worse….the inhabitants of the bar next door started spilling out, smelling of booze and trying to feed me popcorn.