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Showing results for tags 'walked'.
Found 9 results
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Daughter back in school and it must be rough. She gets home sets on the couch and starts talking to me while I'm doing things, suddenly I don't hear her anymore and she was in the middle of telling me how her day went. I walked into the living room and this is what I found.
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We decided to take a ride to Raceman67's to do some preseason scouting in the deer woods yesterday. It was a nice little ride for about 50 miles with a short trip by wally world for some food plot seed. We walked the property, threw some seed and walked back up to John's house just in time to catch John and Melinda with some friends kicking it on the rear deck. Being the gracious host that they are, we were immediatly welcomed and included in the festivities. One thing led to another and after grilled munchies and wings on the Green egg it got pretty late. So, the ride back at around 11:00 was down the country road where we had nailed a ten point buck with the Chevy Cavelier a couple of years ago. With that memory on my mind we rode back with the lights and the radio blaring as fair warning to any deer thinking about playing motorcycle tag. The ride back ended up being non eventful and by the time I hit the bed my lights were out in less than a minute. Been a while since I slept so good.
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I read this and thought it was worth passing on... you never know when that little action on your part has a big impact on somebody else. A sweet lesson on patience. A NYC Taxi driver wrote: I arrived at the address and honked the horn. After waiting a few minutes I honked again. Since this was going to be my last ride of my shift I thought about just driving away, but instead I put the car in park and walked up to the door and knocked.. 'Just a minute', answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor. After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 90's stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940's movie. By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets. There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware. 'Would you carry my bag out to the car?' she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman. She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb. She kept thanking me for my kindness. 'It's nothing', I told her.. 'I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother to be treated.' 'Oh, you're such a good boy, she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address and then asked, 'Could you drive through downtown?' 'It's not the shortest way,' I answered quickly.. 'Oh, I don't mind,' she said. 'I'm in no hurry. I'm on my way to a hospice. I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening. 'I don't have any family left,' she continued in a soft voice..'The doctor says I don't have very long.' I quietly reached over and shut off the meter. 'What route would you like me to take?' I asked. For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator. We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl. Sometimes she'd ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing. As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, 'I'm tired.Let's go now'. We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico. Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move. They must have been expecting her. I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair. 'How much do I owe you?' She asked, reaching into her purse. 'Nothing,' I said 'You have to make a living,' she answered. 'There are other passengers,' I responded. Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug.She held onto me tightly. 'You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,' she said. 'Thank you.' I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the dim morning light.. Behind me, a door shut.It was the sound of the closing of a life.. I didn't pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly lost in thought. For the rest of that day,I could hardly talk.What if that woman had gotten an angry driver,or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away? On a quick review, I don't think that I have done anything more important in my life. We're conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments. But great moments often catch us unaware-beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.
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A friend of mine posted this on facebook, so I thought all of us old geezers here would remember what we did, before going green came into being. The Green Thing In the line at the store, the cashier told an older woman that she should bring her own grocery bags because plastic bags weren't good for the environment. The woman apologized to him and explained, "We didn't have the green thing back in my day." The clerk responded, "That's our problem today. Your generation did not care enough to save our environment." He was right -- our generation didn't have the green thing in its day. Back then, we returned milk bottles, soda bottles and beer bottles to the store. The store sent them back to the plant to be washed and sterilized and refilled, so it could use the same bottles over and over. So they really were recycled. But we didn't have the green thing back in our day. We walked up stairs, because we didn't have an escalator in every store and office building. We walked to the grocery store and didn't climb into a 300-horsepower machine every time we had to go two blocks. But she was right. We didn't have the green thing in our day. Back then, we washed the baby's diapers because we didn't have the throw-away kind. We dried clothes on a line, not in an energy gobbling machine burning up 220 volts -- wind and solar power really did dry the clothes. Kids got hand-me-down clothes from their brothers or sisters, not always brand-new clothing. But that old lady is right; we didn't have the green thing back in our day. Back then, we had one TV, or radio, in the house -- not a TV in every room. And the TV had a small screen the size of a handkerchief (remember them?), not a screen the size of the state of Montana. In the kitchen, we blended and stirred by hand because we didn't have electric machines to do everything for us. When we packaged a fragile item to send in the mail, we used a wadded up old newspaper to cushion it, not Styrofoam or plastic bubble wrap. Back then, we didn't fire up an engine and burn gasoline just to cut the lawn. We used a push mower that ran on human power. We exercised by working so we didn't need to go to a health club to run on treadmills that operate on electricity. But she's right; we didn't have the green thing back then. We drank from a fountain when we were thirsty instead of using a cup or a plastic bottle every time we had a drink of water. We refilled writing pens with ink instead of buying a new pen, and we replaced the razor blades in a razor instead of throwing away the whole razor just because the blade got dull. But we didn't have the green thing back then. Back then, people took the streetcar or a bus and kids rode their bikes to school or walked instead of turning their moms into a 24-hour taxi service. We had one electrical outlet in a room, not an entire bank of sockets to power a dozen appliances. And we didn't need a computerized gadget to receive a signal beamed from satellites 2,000 miles out in space in order to find the nearest pizza joint. But isn't it sad the current generation laments how wasteful we old folks were just because we didn't have the green thing back then?
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My wife and I went to Henderson NV to watch our grand son play T ball. I have never had such a fun experience watching any baseball game, in my entire life. The little kids 4-5 years old were so fun to watch. Some were even shorter than the T ball post. No one struck out and no one walked. There was no score keeping and every player got to bat every inning. But of course there were only 5 or 6 kids per team. The infield was filled with the players and behind every player was a parent giving encouragement to their little champion to be. The little Babe Ruth wannabes would stand at home plate the official (from the city parks and recreation) would wind up and place the ball on top of the T the little slugger would give it his all and, most times, hit the T post. The ball would fall to the ground and the whole process would start over again. Once the ball was rocketed into the infield 4 little figures would rush to the ball only to fall on it and then fight over who got there first then all the future leaders of America would stand up and the ball still sitting in its sandy divot. Only for one of the parents to point out that the ball was still resting in the sand and suggest that one of them pick it up and throw it on to the first baseman, who wasn’t sure what it meant to be a first baseman nor what to do with the ball once it was in his possession. All the while the little slugger either walked, fell, wander or the really experienced veteran would actually run to first base only to meet his little teammate there on first base. With a little encouragement from the on field parent/coach the first player that was on first base would rocket on to second base or the pitcher’s mound maybe on to the big peoples second base which was about 20 feet further out toward center field. One little player would run from third base back to first base instead of home base. I guess he wanted to keep on running. Anyway, all in all it was the greatest sporting event I have personally ever witnessed.
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Luckily I was in my diesel pickup. But, yes, the deer hit me, not the other way around. Driving home from work around 2am, 3 miles from the house, I saw a deer in the road. I slowed down to about 20 mph as the deer walked across the road. The deer was almost all the way across the road, to my left, as I got next to it. The deer decided to go back the other way. The road was a little wet and it must have slipped and broadsided the back door of the truck. No damage to the truck and the deer walked away.
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After a few days, we can laugh about some of the things that took place. After the crash, I got up off the road and removed my jacket and helmet, walked to the ambulance to be checked, and they cut my shirt off and my new jeans almost to the crotch! Would have cut my jacket too if I hadn't taken it off. After 5 hours in the ER I got to go see my wife. I expected to see her dressed (or undressed) just like me. WRONG! She was still in her jacket, shirt and jeans. She simply got feisty with them and told them they were NOT cutting up her outfit! Guess I should have thought of that. When we were finally released, she walked out looking fine. I walked out without a shirt and my pantlegs blowing in the breeze, and patches of hair pulled off my chest from the sticky things! Tomorrow I'll see about getting the bike back to the dealer for an estimate. Then I'm sure the fun will begin with the insurance people. Health-wise we are doing better. Mostly just sore. Thanks for the prayers-they really do work. Mark
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I was pulling ointo the parking lot down at my marina riding my Venture along with my brother on his wing. a couple guys were wathching as we parked and asked question about the bikes. as they walked away one guy said to the other " not your fathers Yamaha" I didnt tell him my bike was 24 years old and could have been my fathers
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I had to do some last minute shopping for a friend who owns a HD Ultra. I rode to a local leather shop but all I was able to find within my budget (hey, I like the guy, but we aint sleeping together) was a Guardian bell. I had no other choice but to brave it and walk right into the belly of the beast....yes, I rode to our local Harley boutique, parked my Gleaming RSV amongst the Harleys and walked in with my head held up high. I soon realized that Almost nothing was within my budget here either (see above referenced excuse). I ended up getting him a gift certificate and walked out. There was a small crowd around my Gleaming RSV. I nodded to a few who only just stared back. I smiled, sat on the bike and fired it up...letting those 98 ponies pulsate through those (gasp!) Road King Mufflers!!!!....I kicked it into gear with my Harley boots and in the wink of an eye I shot out of there to the amazement of several onlookers. I thought I heard someone say..was it a bird..was it a plane....well, you know the rest.....:rotfl::rotfl:
