A FEW THANKSGIVING CHUCKLES

 

I hope nobody minds, but I had two different ideas for this weekend’s post and couldn’t decide which one to use, so I've posted them both. :[]





Filmore’s unfortunate birth defect.




 



:->

HAPPY TURKEY DAY



Comments

  1. Mike BrubakerNovember 24, 2024 at 2:33 PM

    Very funny! And so true, too. I liked the first one best for its authentic history.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Molly's CanopyNovember 25, 2024 at 5:17 AM

    Thanks for the laughs. I also liked the first one best, although the candlelight vigil was good, too.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

A PICNIC IS A PICNIC WHEREVER YOU HAPPEN TO BE – SAND, DIRT, GRASS, ROCKS, PATIOS, DECKS, A LIVING ROOM FLOOR, OR AN OLD HELICOPTER PAD

Image
  Summer, 1962.  Picnic IN the sand.  You’ve seen this picture before.  We were at Stinson Beach and the wind was blowing pretty hard, but we hunkered down behind the sand dunes and on this particular trip, managed to eat our lunch without crunching on too much sand.  And yes, there was the time we went to Stinson and gave up picnicking there because it was just too windy, coming home to eat our lunch on a blanket spread out on the living room floor in front of a cheery fire Dad built in the fireplace.  But hey, it was still a picnic! J Stinson Beach.  It’s always windy here because it’s so wide open.  But it’s a great place to explore. My husband’s mother looks like she’s eating something yummy out of a box in front of her?  I’m guessing she was around 15 at the time which would place the year around 1925.  Her mother, Lillian Ross (Pringle) Brasier, is seated on the right.   Mid 1940s.  My maternal grandmother, Bertha ...
Read more

LAND'S END

Image
  I haven't a single picture in my immediate or extended family of anyone either perched on or riding a motorcycle.     I rode on the back of one with my Uncle Jim once but didn't like it at all.   I don't know if anyone else ever rode one except for my son who, for a brief (thank heaven) time, owned one.   So . . . I decided to focus on something else in this picture besides the motorcycles and motorcycle riders.  I'm hoping the scene behind the pair of riders in the photo is one of water?  If not, my whole theme is off base.  But I think it is, and in that watery background is a very faint point of land ending in the water.  Following, then, are scenes of points of land ending in water - thus the title: “Land’s End” John O’Groats Land’s End in Scotland, 2015 – the northernmost point of Scotland and England’s mainland.  Ferry ride to Orkney On the way to Dunvegan In Alaska, sailing from Ketchikan to Vancouver. Still sailing fr...
Read more

FOLLOWING THE FRANK HERBERT BRADLEY FAMILY

Image
  Frank Herbert Bradley at age 24 Frank Herbert Bradley was born in 1880 in Blackburn, England, the son and 12 th child of Abram Bradley and Elizabeth Clegg Bradley.  He came to America, landing in Rhode Island, with his mother and 4 older sisters in 1885 at the age of 5 years.  At some point before 1902 he moved to New York City and learned the silver trade at Tiffany’s.  In 1902 he came to San Francisco where he boarded with the widow, Ella Chase Taylor Smedley, and her daughter, Harriet Bell Smedley who became Frank’s wife in 1906. My Grandma B, Harriet (Hattie) Bell Smedley Bradley with her new husband, my Grandad B, Frank Herbert Bradley in 1906 on their honeymoon. 1919 – Harriet Bell Bradley, with her four children:  Harriet Chase, Frances Marian, Herbert Kinsey (my Dad), and Ruth Ella. Late 1920s – The Bradley family.  Standing: Harriet (Hattie), Frances, Harriet, and Frank.  Kneeling: Ruth and Herbert c. 1930 – Harriet, Herbert, Frances, and...
Read more