02.17.11 = Great old places
I love old places like this. They really make you curious of what and who is inside. When I was a kid and we went down to my Grandma’s and Grandpa’s house in Kansas, there were places like this scattered around town. My Grandfather would take us for rides in the big old brown Ford and we would stop at all these different places on various errands. Really, I don’t think he had any real business there except to show-off his granddaughters. And it seemed that all the men working in these places had great nick names like, Bobcat Willy and Tater and they all wore overalls. When we got back home my Grandmother would ask us if we had fun and where we went. She would then get angry at my Grandfather saying something like, “What were you thinking taking these little girls to that filthy old place?” We would then proceed to defend my Grandfather, so he would take us out again. My Grandmother would then begin the gossip and tell you the life history of everyone we met. I can see and hear her now. Great memories. Great old places.
“Memory is a way of holding onto the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lose.” Unknown
