tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20303812.post8079803842585030846..comments2024-03-28T13:25:17.345+00:00Comments on Going Gently: Are You Sitting Comfortably?John Going Gentlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14958171262765033946noreply@blogger.comBlogger62125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20303812.post-4825928458818598752017-05-07T04:24:24.390+00:002017-05-07T04:24:24.390+00:00I love your story, Janet!I love your story, Janet!jenny_ohttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15475480579733466963noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20303812.post-37538154164350574412017-05-07T04:22:31.575+00:002017-05-07T04:22:31.575+00:00Just luck.
He always called it his sweepstakes lu...Just luck.<br /><br />He always called it his sweepstakes luck, and he reasoned there was no point in buying a lottery ticket because he had used up his luck that day.jenny_ohttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15475480579733466963noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20303812.post-38499012308757736142017-05-07T04:08:16.106+00:002017-05-07T04:08:16.106+00:00Love this.. it's so real here in Aus. Many a f...Love this.. it's so real here in Aus. Many a fencing chore was made more of a drama by being feasted on by leaches on our property which bordered State Forest. Often with one hand occupied holding wire or wire tensioners I would grope for the offending leach and bite its bitey bit off! Ellehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/00494264576774267597noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20303812.post-43786375325601498262017-05-06T11:45:55.155+00:002017-05-06T11:45:55.155+00:00What a beautiful father/son relationship. This sto...What a beautiful father/son relationship. This story made me tear up. Johttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11666316882168582862noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20303812.post-81917268190055829152017-05-06T08:03:30.313+00:002017-05-06T08:03:30.313+00:00Kismet, fate, divine intervention ? Kismet, fate, divine intervention ? John Going Gentlyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14958171262765033946noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20303812.post-18109584001122357922017-05-06T08:02:47.607+00:002017-05-06T08:02:47.607+00:00Yes the writing on the pound note made me tear upYes the writing on the pound note made me tear upJohn Going Gentlyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14958171262765033946noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20303812.post-46126196842061701782017-05-06T08:01:32.270+00:002017-05-06T08:01:32.270+00:00Underlines the magic of childhood eh?Underlines the magic of childhood eh?John Going Gentlyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14958171262765033946noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20303812.post-33421451195054628342017-05-06T08:00:25.586+00:002017-05-06T08:00:25.586+00:00I want to hear more about this oneI want to hear more about this oneJohn Going Gentlyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14958171262765033946noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20303812.post-40563524364149747692017-05-06T08:00:00.602+00:002017-05-06T08:00:00.602+00:00Romance ...sweetRomance ...sweetJohn Going Gentlyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14958171262765033946noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20303812.post-89231881277846864622017-05-06T01:48:24.203+00:002017-05-06T01:48:24.203+00:00I think mine would be the story of my grandfather ...I think mine would be the story of my grandfather that I blogged about - he was a coal miner and was part of the crew that set the explosives to blast the face of the coal seam. One day the charge blew before it was supposed to and he was thrown backwards by the force of the blast. He landed between huge rocks with a third balanced on top of the two. He escaped unharmed. The twist to the story was that he was quite a small, thin man, and the space between those two boulders was just big enough for a small, thin man.jenny_ohttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15475480579733466963noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20303812.post-55046514512643067342017-05-06T01:45:08.665+00:002017-05-06T01:45:08.665+00:00And now you've made me cry!And now you've made me cry!jenny_ohttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15475480579733466963noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20303812.post-39765208565404569702017-05-05T20:37:19.154+00:002017-05-05T20:37:19.154+00:00It's my father's story. He wanted to foll...It's my father's story. He wanted to follow his father to sea as a trawlerman. Granda was determined his only son would do better. So in the early 50s he took my Father to sea. In the winter, up to Murmansk. My Father told us this in the year before he died. He remembered the ice, the Stalinist soldiers on the dock while their ship was resupplied.<br /><br />Killed his dream of the sea. He was a talented artist my Dad and should have went to Art School. But Scot's practicality won out. He was apprenticed to a painter and decorator.<br /><br />He made a good living at it and eventually had his own 16 foot boat and would Salmon fish off of Vancouver.<br /><br />I remember my Grandad as a kind but gruff appearing man. When we left Scotland in the 60s, he made a special trip to the station to hug my Father (Granda was supposed to be at work)and kiss us grandkids good bye. He then slipped a pound note into Dad's hand "just in case". My Dad had that pound note in his wallet when he died 36 years later with the inscription "given to me by my Dad 1966".<br /><br />50 and countinghttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12051116860123693646noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20303812.post-22998133582281400172017-05-05T20:01:30.883+00:002017-05-05T20:01:30.883+00:00Christmas 1970. For a changed we spent it over wi...Christmas 1970. For a changed we spent it over with my Welsh grandparents, rather than them come to us. My cousins and I were tucked up in bed (how 6 adults & 3 children fitted into one two bedroom house I don't know). Late at night, there was a thumping and stamping sound coming from the loft. Turned out my granddad had persuaded my dad & uncle to put on wellies and go into the loft with him to stomp about, pretending to be Santa & his reindeer for the three of us. <br /><br />Funnily enough, he used to tell stories of his childhood. Of when his father had a farm, and had a horse called Nansi, who they could hitch up to a cart, stick a list on the seat, and send her off to the shops on her own. It broke his heart when his dad later sold Nansi for a something bigger, a one eyed horse called Nelson.<br /><br />Now, having researched my family tree, I know that in 1911, the family were living in a mid terrace house by the river in Pontypridd, and my great grandfather was dead by 1924. So the farm and the horses only happened over the matter of a few years. But it clearly meant the world to him, as most of our family holidays were at farms rather than the seaside, and most days the two of us would go off on nature walks or to look at the farm animals.Blue Shed Thinkinghttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02988028935854371365noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20303812.post-49617474963003665912017-05-05T19:37:17.377+00:002017-05-05T19:37:17.377+00:00Wow what a tale! I'd love to see those photo&#...Wow what a tale! I'd love to see those photo's do you have a blog? Curly Clubhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12802333414956803595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20303812.post-41612523993700859182017-05-05T19:34:08.570+00:002017-05-05T19:34:08.570+00:00A story of the love and kindness of the family tha...A story of the love and kindness of the family that lived across the street.Magehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17333086721654817750noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20303812.post-19267719089565686662017-05-05T19:13:25.394+00:002017-05-05T19:13:25.394+00:00Janet, you had a darling grandfather. Janet, you had a darling grandfather. Johttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11666316882168582862noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20303812.post-17945382132797707492017-05-05T19:12:29.878+00:002017-05-05T19:12:29.878+00:00My motorbike-crazy boyfriend back in 1971 sold his...My motorbike-crazy boyfriend back in 1971 sold his prized possession to buy me a diamond engagement ring. My own brother told him he's made to trade a bike for a woman. 31 years later, I told Grant he's investment has paid off and bought him his first motorbike - a Harley Davidson -<br /> as a married man. Fast forward another 16 years and he's owned that Harley, then three BMW touring bikes and another luxury BMW motorbike and finally has traded all for a 20 year-old Harley Davidson again. After 45 years, he still has the first investment as well: a loyal and hardworking wife !Johttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11666316882168582862noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20303812.post-84050889043637598632017-05-05T19:08:14.229+00:002017-05-05T19:08:14.229+00:00That question has me stumped. It would take me day...That question has me stumped. It would take me days, weeks even, to figure that out -- if I even could. Meanwhile, you clearly inherited that gift for storytelling from your ancestors.I haven't read everyone else's stories above, but did read Janet's. What a beautiful story filled with love that resulted from such a sad start.Moving with Mitchellhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12954028272162285597noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20303812.post-34533634591687936322017-05-05T19:03:25.957+00:002017-05-05T19:03:25.957+00:00My grandma came from Rawmarsh. She and her brother...My grandma came from Rawmarsh. She and her brothers would have been 16, 11 and 9 in 1931 and they lived in a little terraced house. I wonder if the families knew each other. I have put together for my children a little book of various tales handed down on both sides of the family, so the stories are not forgottenTobimhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/00579848838801104788noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20303812.post-11664274973567079312017-05-05T18:36:34.078+00:002017-05-05T18:36:34.078+00:00Hard to believe, that was
more than 70 years ago.
...Hard to believe, that was<br />more than 70 years ago.<br />Still makes me smile.<br />I adored him as well.Janet Eiffelhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/08429780800980046344noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20303812.post-3347375758600341952017-05-05T18:00:19.752+00:002017-05-05T18:00:19.752+00:00Janet this is a lovely story.
I adore your Grandfa...Janet this is a lovely story.<br />I adore your Grandfather.angryparsniphttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17236094827257446781noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20303812.post-44915774626535047092017-05-05T17:33:31.424+00:002017-05-05T17:33:31.424+00:00Lord! What children have to survive at times ...Lord! What children have to survive at times ...jenny_ohttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15475480579733466963noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20303812.post-86702297915855337992017-05-05T17:10:08.050+00:002017-05-05T17:10:08.050+00:00The one story that comes to mind is when my GP was...The one story that comes to mind is when my GP was about to remove a large cyst from my scalp. She went to get the appropriate kit, and then discovered she had picked up an IUD kit. "I don't think you'll be needing that" she said, and trotted off to get the correct one.nickhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10472673041193755894noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20303812.post-40894144925635695552017-05-05T16:40:08.454+00:002017-05-05T16:40:08.454+00:00I agree! Only one I could think of on the spur of...I agree! Only one I could think of on the spur of the moment! Simonehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02766240849932971541noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20303812.post-18762482132209968072017-05-05T16:19:22.642+00:002017-05-05T16:19:22.642+00:00Not the nicest tale! LolNot the nicest tale! LolJohn Going Gentlyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14958171262765033946noreply@blogger.com