A warning.

A few months ago, after my grandmother died I recieved all of her old pics and papers. Now I loved my grandmother but the woman was a major pack rat. I now know where I get it.

Anyway, I'm going through all of these papers and finding all kinds of treasures. Pics of the grandpa I never knew, the reciept for the first car Grandmother ever bought. LOL There's a letter my dad wrote me when I was 8, and living with my aunt and uncle. He was telling me about being out at sea on the ship and to be a good girl. There are my grandpa's induction papers from 1942, Grandmother's original birth certificate. Did you know that in the '20's there was a space on the birth certificate that asked if the child was legitimate? And in case you are wondering yest she was. I only mention that because both my brother and my mom asked what it said. LOL Grandmother's high school letter, she played volley ball.

Some of Mom's report cards, and some belonging to her siblings. There's a poster of a great-great-grandpa. It's been torn up but it looks like he was running for office. There's Grandmother's diary, given to her by her mother when she was 14. I still haven't read all of it. But it's interesting to read about her daily life. These things can't be replaced. My family history is now scattered all over until I the pics scanned to share. And then scrapbook everything.

Then comes the part that almost blinded me. No not naked pics of anyone. ;-0 But love letters to Grandmother from someone she dated. I was looking at this letter trying to figure out who this person was and it started to get very personal. I knew that she dated but, this was really more than I ever wanted to know. LOL

So this is a warning if you ever inherhit someone's lifetime of papers, pics and such. Becareful what you read you may find out more than you wanted to know. LOL

I'm here

Okay so I've given in a started a blog here. Now what to post?

I know this is something that has been bothering me lately. I have a full leg brace it attaches to my shoe. This sounds awful but it's not, it actually keeps me from falling on my butt all the time. What bothers me is when I go out, complete strangers feel the need to comment on it. Sometimes they say something under their breath as they pass, they say it to me. But the ones who really bother me are the people who want to know every detail about why I have this torture device strapped to my leg. I mean think about it, would they walk up to a guy in a wheelchair and question him? Would they ask a blind guy how he lost his sight? Generally the answer is no. And that's what bothers me, why do they feel they can approach me when they wouldn't others?