Photo Story Friday! Grampa Sam

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The other day Ken posted a picture of old bottles and that got me to thinking of one of my most favorite men of all time, my Grampa Sam. He passed away in 1990 and life just hasn't been the same since. We were the greatest of buddies. From what hear that started out in the beginning of my earthly life. I was his favorite one, you see, I was the only grand-baby that preferred him to hold me when just a babe. Everyone else cried when he held them, but not me, we were kindred spirits.
He was the greatest thing, even better than pizza, or ice cream. He was an avid gardener, fisherman, a logger, and a bottle hound. He also loved to sing.
I used to love spending time doing all of the above with him, but the bottle hunting was my favorite. We would all hop into the car and head out to an empty field or a place where junk (not a garbage dump), like old cars were and search all over to find old bottles. If there was a no trespassing sign posted he would send me (or one of my siblings) through the fence to look. It was great fun. Heck, what kid doesn't like exploring new "dangerous" places? You should have seen his collection. The whole house was filled to the brim with Grampa's bottles and Gramma's fabrics.

There was one time I went logging with him and my Uncle Ed, and it is one I will never truly live down. I was about 6 years old and we went way up into the mountains to get a load of fire wood. They told me to stay in the truck, so I obediently did, for about 5 minutes. There were just too many cool things to see and so much room to explore. after about 15 minutes I hear the loud echoey voices of my Grampa Sam and Uncle Ed holler "TIMBER". Now remember, I was only six, when I heard that I went into full panic mode, starting with screaming then leading into running in circles and then finally finding the right direction for the truck. I ran full throttle for the truck, just certain that so huge tree was going to be barreling down the hill after me. As soon as I got into the truck I locked both doors.
Naturally they both heard my cries (sound really carries in the woods) and came running down the mountain, just positive that something awful must have happened to me, only to find that I was safely locked in the truck. I was so scared it took them several minutes to calm me down and coax me into unlocking the door. Now in my Uncle Ed's eyes I will forever be know as "The Logger". No joke when he calls he leaves messages for the logger not Ryanne.
Now on to the singing aspect of my Grampa Sam. He was one of MANY children and a not well off family, so when he was about 12 he had to drop out of school to help provide for the family. Ergo, his education was cut a bit short. He mostly remembered the songs he learned in school and would always be singing one of them. He had a few favorites: All Things Bright and Beautiful and the Alphabet backwards. My sister and I were always in awe of that last one. It seemed impossible to do yet he did it. Then when we were about 6 and 8 he challenged us, or rather told us we couldn't stay the summer with him if we didn't learn how to do it too. That was enough incentive and we got right to it. I didn't want to disappoint my Grampa after all. So we sat down and wrote the letters forward and then read them backwards until they stuck. Ok, I admit my sister got it sown way before me, but I did finally get it the whole zyxwvutsrqponmlkjihgfedcba down pat. In fact, I have way more trouble remembering it the proper way and that is all thanks to my wonderful Grampa Sam.
I have stories I could tell all day, but the time is late and this is longer than anyone will want to read.

P.S. I am the cute one down in the front who is barely in the picture. I think that they thought my cuteness would over power the shot! ;)




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