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Sunday, October 9, 2011

October 9, 2011 What Grandpas are Good For

Good Sunday morning!  This is the first day of the rest of my life.  We're going shooting today.  I shocked the Darrel last time we went when I shot the .22 magnum rifle with a scope and hit three shots grouped the size of a silver dollar at 100 yards.  Then when I shot the 2" .38 handgun, I got four out of five plates down on the combat range at 25 feet.  Of course he did better than that.  But he always does better than that.

Yesterday at the book signing in Dahlonega I met some new fine people, one of whom lives in Auraria, so they were happy to get a chance to read a little bit about their community in Auraria Dead.  Some other people from Chicamauga, which, in my ignorace thought was in Tennessee, got one of my books.  They told me the memorial park there is a couple thousand acres in size.  I had no idea and now have to make a trip there to see the place.     Not a lot of peope eating yogurt thought about buying books, but the ones who did were very interesting.  One man came in with his son in a wheelchair. The boy was maybe twenty years old and whatever disease he had prevented him from talking.  I wanted to ask if he understood our conversation and other general questions about him, but felt it was intrusive.  The dad talked alot about some other stuff.  The boy was absolutely beautiful.  He sure likes yogurt.  You gotta wonder what God has in mind.

A little friend of mine has shingles...another form of torture.  I spent a lot of time thinking about her yesterday.  When I was a child I remember that my dad had shingles.  It came and went and was terribly painful.  I thought a little praying for Melanie might help, so whoever might be reading this...take that into consideration today, as I will.

Today I'm leaving you with a grandpa story I hope you enjoy...

by Melody Scott

I was just reminded again of what grandpas are good for.

There was a parade of four children and one large grandpa through this house just minutes ago. They were on their way to the garage, looking for string with which to make a bow. It seems one of them found an arrow in the woods, which would remain flightless if not for the grandpa who knew how to make a bow.

On their way through, they discussed important things such as how to make a slingshot. All they needed was an inner tube. But what would they shoot? Rocks? No, rocks might hurt somebody. How about acorns? They would probably hurt somebody too, in the war they were planning. But acorns are plentiful this time of year, so they were chosen as the preferred ammunition. Now they had to volunteer a bicycle inner tube. One of them knew just the place to find it.

I don’t know what they found to make the bow with, but I know it will work because I know that grandpa. Aha! I’ve just been informed it was made of fresh sapling.

Was this grandpa a retired maker of hunting equipment? No. Was he once the architect of innovative patents? No. The key to this grandpa is he was a boy once. He was not raised with I-Pads or video games or DVDs or I-Pods or even cell phones. He never knew about computer screens or keyboards. Ergo, he had a little time on his hands, between fighting his seven brothers for the only bicycle. He can still make a go cart that really goes, a bow that really shoots and a slingshot to die for.

Yesterday he taught his son-in-law how to tear a hole in the wall and fix a leaky shower faucet, then drywall up the hole, tape, sand and paint it.

I wonder what our grandchildren will teach their grandchildren.

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