My grandpa was stationed in Northern Africa for most of his WWII service. Years and years later, when he was retired, he had a huge crazy vegetable garden in their back yard, and he would go out in the middle of the day in the hottest part of the summer and work in the garden for hours. My grandma, who loved central air as much as I do, would yell out the window at him, "Paul, it's too hot! If you die out there, I'm leaving you where you fall!"
And my grandpa would reply, "It's not too hot! I was IN AFRICA!" (My grandma's rejoinder to that was "You weren't BORN THERE!!!" And then she would slam the window and go back to watching her stories. Good times.)
Congrats on passing the test, Anne!
aurelia, anything college-related is perfect. Wednesday I wore K's Minnesota State women's hockey shirt.
Jesse, sweatshirts would be awesome!
Rainy day today (woot!) but I think it's making me stupid. I put my skirt on inside out today. And I'm wearing rainboots all day.
Does anyone remember what part of Fl Laura lives in?
Jesse, sweatshirts would be awesome!
I have a Penn sweatshirt I would lend you, but I think I'll want it for my 20th reunion in May....
Laura is near Ft Lauderdale, iirc.
Wtf. Why did I wake up with Shakira in my head/ear worming me??
Jesse, how is it we are old enough for 20 year college reunions? Also, no worries I'll keep looking for college stuff.
Our shower is broken. We only have one bathroom in the house, so things are..... unpleasant. Someone is coming to fix it this afternoon, and I have never been so excited to take a shower in my life.
My grandfather somehow managed to enlist (he was born in 1901), and given that he had five children under 10, was already in his late 30s (Canada having entered the war long before the US), they just sent him to Victoria. No overseas service for him! I'm not entirely sure why he bothered enlisting, though my mother claims it's because he thought it would get him back to Scotland.
My step-grandfather on the other side (who was in Scotland, as that's where he started out) was in Europe, and the shrapnel in his knee ultimately led to his death (surgery + painkillers = bleeding ulcer). All he ever talked about was shit he got up to on leave, however. (Which was a lot, as he was very young--turned 18 in 1942 [Gram kind of cradle robbed with him]--and filled with wild oats.)
I had no real relationship with any of the other vets in the family, as my bio grandfathers all fell into age ranges where they missed the war windows--too young in some cases for WWI, barely, too old for WWII.
