HALF PAST

 

In the quiet hours of the morning, the chiming of our grandfather clock caught my attention. It chimes 4 times on the quarter hour, 8 on the half hour, 12 on the 3/4 hour then 16 times on the hour. In addition then on the hour, the chiming is followed by a different tone of chimes equal to the hour it is on the clock. 

We’ve had this clock nearly 15 years so Cindy & I have heard it chime a ‘million’ times over those years. For some reason this morning, the chiming made me think of my dad. 

Dad was born early into the 20^th century so he grew up in a much different way than me. I recall his stories of growing up in those days and the sayings that were from that era. As I thought about that clock this morning, it reminded me that dad didn’t say it was “6:15” or “6:30”. To him, it was always “quarter-past six” or “half-past six”. Certainly either way is correct, 6:30 IS half-past the hour of six, but I believe it’s one of those ‘generational’ terms. 

Dad’s been gone a long time…and it’s been a long time since I’ve heard anyone say…”it’s half past six”. Funny how a simple thing like the chiming of a clock, took me back all those years ago, to good memories of my dad.

REMEMBER: Never worry about numbers. Help one person at a time and always start with the person nearest you.

– Mother Teresa

Be talkin’ to ya.  Dan

THOSE HOT INDIANA NIGHTS....RECALLED

In the wee hours of a recent morning, I heard it raining outside. Being a long-time lousy sleeper who
needs some kind of distraction to keep my brain occupied so I can sleep, I opened the window in  our bedroom so I could hear the soothing sound of the rain. 

Seeing as the daytime temps were nearing 90 degrees lately, it was probably in the low-to-mid 70s and humid as I opened the window. There was a little breeze...very little...but I enjoyed listening to the sound of the rain falling. Instead of making my brain go to sleep, I was taken back to my days as a kid in Owensville and those memories made me smile and kept me awake. 

Like many folks in the early 60s we didn’t have air conditioning in the house. The best we could do on those hot-and-humid Indiana nights was to turn on a fan dad bought at the hardware store where he worked. 

On those miserable nights, I remember wearing as few clothes as possible, kicking off the sheets so there was nothing on me, lying in bed by the window praying for the slightest bit of a breeze. I wanted dad to turn the fan towards me to blow the air across my sweating body but he always felt it better to aim the fan at the opposite window to blow the hot air out so it would PULL air IN through the window beside me. 

I don’t remember feeling like that trick ever worked. 

Dave and Jean were in the next room suffering with the heat as well, and poor Jean’s bed wasn’t even by the window. I’m not sure there weren’t times that she got in Dave’s bed with him, also praying a little breeze would come through his window. 

I don’t know that our kids and grandkids will ever have any idea of what it was like on those hot Indiana nights.

REMEMBER: There’s 2 ways to build the tallest building in town: Simply build the tallest building in town...or build a small one and tear everybody else’s down. Do you, and respect the competition.

Be talkin’ to ya. 

Dan