Introduction
Greetings, dear reader. I hope you are doing well enough in this Ununited Socialist States of America (USSA) “socialist utopia,” which once was the free, brave, and proud United States of America (USA). Don't fret! My next article will be about “poly-ticks.” The word “poly-ticks,” as I use it, is from “many” (Latin) plus “ticks” (blood suckers).
This article updates on recent “life, such as it is,” events. I hope you are keeping journals. This website journal is a way by which I record certain life events of Mrs. Appalachian Irishman and mine.
1978 High School Senior Year
I attained the grand age of 18 just after high school graduation in 1978, 43 years ago. How time goes by.
Recently, I learned that a fellow 1978 high school graduate and classmate retired from the Tennessee National Guard as a Brigadier General early this year. I honor him for his service in the Tennessee National Guard. I had wondered, in passing thoughts over the last few decades, what had become of him, along with many other classmates. As I understand it, his family and he were doing well enough. In high school, he had his clique. I had mine. He was part of the “elite” crowd. I was not. It doesn't matter now. He was not a high school friend, but he seemed to be a good guy. I liked him well enough. I assume that he liked me well enough. Furthermore, I hope that he is ready for everlasting life by having accepted the Lord's invitation to salvation. I assume that he has. I doubt that he has served in full-time ministry or cross-cultural mission work, as I have. He, as I assume, has ministered according to his calling, as I continue to do.
Sadly, a few days after I learned how my high school classmate was doing, I learned that his mother-in-law, who was my high school senior year English teacher, passed away on Wednesday, 11/17/2021, at age 94. In the 8th grade, Mrs. Trent taught my classmates and me how to diagram sentences. Mrs. Trent taught us how to use proper grammar and style in sentence structure. My high school senior year English teacher, who passed recently, continued Mrs. Trent's fine training. Mrs. Trent was my best English teacher.
As high school seniors in college-preparation English class, we were required to write a research paper. I had been working diligently on mine, spending hours of research in the library. I lost the research and told my teacher, the one who passed away recently. She was “gracious” in that she “allowed” me to submit my paper late to receive a 64 “F” instead of a 0 “F” grade. I did the research again, wrote the paper, and submitted it late. (The original paper may be around here somewhere.) I got a 64 “F” for late submission, instead of a 0 “F” for no submission at all. As I recall, I passed my senior year high school English class with a “B.” I could have had an “A.” My mother (Betty Lou Wood Ferrell, 11/24/1932–12/27/2000) wanted to confront my high school senior year English teacher to defend me. It was not my fault that, somehow, my first research had gone missing. I still wonder if someone took it from my locker where I had kept it. Mom and I “took one on the chin.”
Forty-three years later, as I reflect, my 1978 high school classmate and his deceased mother-in-law are placed in an everlasting perspective. Let's move on, shall we?
Today's Life, Such As It Is
Today is Saturday. The weather is cool and sunny. The red sky this morning indicated rain in a day or two. I arrived, three seconds early, for my 10 AM haircut appointment at Tony's Best Clips. Beforehand, I had hauled off the trash and recycling. Six weeks had gone by since my last haircut. (The 10/9/2021 article mentions it.) I'm glad to know that Tony and his folks are doing well. I needed that “best clips” haircut!
My 2006 Nissan Frontier got his second truck wash this month (on the 6th and today). I filled his tank. Afterward, I noticed our 2008 Honda Civic parked at the Dollar General Store. In the store, I almost snuck up on Mrs. Appalachian Irishman! She caught me out of the corner of her eye. She didn't hear me walking, even with my “bionic” right foot!
Before that “sneak attack,” I had stopped at Hammers and Rural King, both not far from my barber. I am in “desperate” need of two blue sweatshirts! I have two that have a few decades of age on them. Both have holes. On 7/12/2021, I asked Mrs. Appalachian Irishman to stitch the holes. Apparently, she was too busy. I may need to take a needle and thread and stitch the holes myself. I would like to retire those sweatshirts to a memorial location in my closet.
The Dollar General Store did not have sweatshirts in stock. I checked out with Mrs. Appalachian Irishman. The checkout clerk and I regaled each other about how a dollar ain't worth much these days.
In the checkout line, an older man behind us wore a Vietnam War ball cap. He and I conversed briefly. I shook his hand and thanked him for his service to this once-free and great nation. He and I both understood the reality of the current “USSA socialist utopian dream,” which will awaken to become the coming nightmare. I hope that this Vietnam War veteran does well, and I hope I see him again.
Do readers from Hawkins County, Tennessee, remember Cupp's grocery store in Rogersville? I do. After church on Sunday mornings, my father would stop at the store. I could spend 25 cents to buy a Coke and a candy bar. After my father drove us home, I watched football on the black-and-white television, ate the candy bar, and drank the Coke. Those were great Sunday afternoons after church during my grade school years!
Conclusion
It is dark at 5:42 PM as I type this sentence. I'm glad that, as of 11/7/2021, we are finally off “govrmint” time! Molly (our “old puppy”) is ready to come inside. Supper is almost ready.
I may not be able to publish the article about “Poly-ticks” today. I'll get to it. Please wait for it!
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