When our daughter and son-in-law, Susan and Tim Speed, sit down to dinner they ask the twins and daughter Savannah to say the blessing.
They try to alternate them, but sometimes one will volunteer. Anyway, this evening they got Trevor, 4, to say the prayer: ‘God is great, God is good, let us thank Him for our food.?
Trevor starts: ‘God is great, God is good . . .?
Then he stops and says he can’t remember what comes next. Mother says, think about it.
Trevor asks, ‘Is it salad??
Mother laughs and finishes the blessing, ‘Let us thank Him for our food.?
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Watching/listening to a professional football game recently I heard the announcer say a player played 6-man football in high school.
And the memories came flooding back. During my three years at Morrice High School, 1940-1942, we didn’t have 11 boys who wanted to play football. Neither did Byron, Bath, Laingsburg, Vernon and Haslett, so they formed a 6-man football league.
The line was two ends and a center. The backfield a quarterback and two halfbacks. I always wanted to be a pass-catching end, so the history teacher/coach made me a quarterback.
The quarterback could hand the ball off, or pass, but the ball had to be handled twice. The field was shorter and narrower, but I don’t remember how much of either.
There were no seats on the sidelines, and no one to sit in them if there were. We played in the afternoon when adults worked and other students went home to do chores, were confined after school for mischief or had to make some money by selling corncobs door-to-door from the local elevator for kindling for fire.
Yes, I did that . . . before I started playing football and got a paper route peddling the Owosso Argus Press. Recently I saw the former Argus publisher, Dick Campbell, and he’s still complaining that my customers got their paper late.
I bought that paper route from one of the halfbacks, Bob Jarrad, who decided chasing girls was more important to him than making a few bucks a week tossing newspapers onto roofs and into trees.
I called my sister, Barbara, in Florida to ask some questions about MHS, but though she was graduated from the school, she was little help. It’s her age, I guess. She played cymbals in the band, but they never came to the game either.
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I realize this is a family newspaper and ‘bad? words aren’t supposed to be allowed, but this time the innocence allows it.
Granddaughter Savannah, 7, is mentioned above. Recently she came home from school and said to her mother, ‘I know what ass means.?
Mother said, ‘Okay, what does it mean??
Savannah spelled out, ‘B-u-t-t.?
Mother told her daughter, ‘That word is even worse than b-u-t-t, and if I hear it again from you, your mouth will get washed out with soap.?
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A few more 2004 Old Farmer’s Almanac bits of monthly wisdom:
March: Don’t say that Spring has come until you can put your foot on nine daisies.
April: A new broom sweeps clean, but an old brush covers all the corners.
June: If your head is wax don’t walk toward the sun.
October: If the birds be silent, expect thunder.