by Kay~Kacey on 2/25/2009
Long time passing. Where have all the Stuckey’s gone, long time ago. (Sorry dating myself again with that song.)
But where HAVE all the Stuckey’s gone?
You used to see Stuckey’s all over the place. Not so much anymore. At least in the midwest. We did see this Stuckey’s on our road trip to California though.
You used to always be able to spot them in the distance with their bright red roofs.
I’m not sure that these two signs are targeted to the same market though…
There used to be a Stuckey’s at this exit. Halfway between my home and my college. It was always our pit stop driving back and forth. Stop and buy a diet Coke. High Hill, Missouri…which, interestingly enough, isn’t really on the really high hill on the highway… The hard thing about this stop? Deciding between the Nickerson Farms or the Stuckey’s at this exit.
Alas, both the Nickerson Farms and the Stuckey’s are long abandoned here.
Oh, yes, we also used to fill up with gas here. Sigh. No longer. (as an aside, there were no trespassing signs all over here. I was bummed. I so wanted to get closeup shots of those abandoned gas pumps. I still might…)
Ah, the memories of my youth. So where have all the Stuckey’s gone? For that matter, where is my youth?? :rofl:
by Kay~Kacey on 2/24/2009
I heart these pearls. They were my grandmother’s. I’ve been known to wear them with my jeans as well as with one of my numerous little black dresses.
My grandmother lived in a small town in the bootheel of Missouri. She didn’t have a lot of fancy things in her lifetime. But she had these pearls. Now I have them. I love them. I CHERISH them. Sometimes the connection with my heritage and everyone who lived before me is overwhelming. Like when I’m wearing these pearls, or polishing my grandmother’s silver. I miss both my grandmothers. I miss them a lot. They were such strong and steady forces in my life.
Just a little reminder to send me your links for February’s Photo of the Month Contest. The theme for February is CHERISH. Either leave me a link in this post, or use the contact button at the top of the website to send me a link to your entry. What do you cherish??
by Kay~Kacey on 2/23/2009
Ever have one of those weekends? When you get to the end of it and you realize the whole weekend went to h*ll in a handbasket?
While we’re at it, what is a handbasket?? This sure isn’t one. It’s a big old basket that I keep my spinning fiber in.
Nope, this is just an ordinary laundry basket. Not a handbasket. Not that we’ve determined what a handbasket is, right? As an aside, notice the distinct lack of laundry in the laundry basket. I’m just saying. Laundry baskets make good junk collectors. Then they are too full to use for, you know, laundry. So a person has to give up doing laundry and, say, drink a glass of wine. Win, win.
I do have quite a few plastic baskets around…full of junk. I noticed when I went around looking for baskets to write this post…that I think I must have a grand total of one basket in the house…if you don’t include the easter baskets in the basement. Hm. I gues I’m not much of a basket person. I don’t know why. Because I LIKE baskets. I just don’t have any.
Now that this post is totally off track…
Handbaskets. That’s what we were talking about. Confess now, tell the truth…have you EVER used the word handbasket except in the expression h*!! in a handbasket? I thought not. I rest my case.
Anyway, we didn’t get a speck of painting finished on the kitchen. Didn’t get much of anything done, really. There was a lot of this going on…
Yes, that’s what I’m talking about. One of the many reasons our weekend went to h*!! in a handbasket. So as the weekend wound down, and we were talking about this whole h*ll in a handbasket phenomena — over a few glasses of wine…
SuperGuy asks me. “I wonder who does go to he!! and brings all those handbaskets back?” :crazy:
