Pull Tight

“A day will come when the story inside you will want to breathe on its own. That’s when you will start writing.” Sarah Noffke Started Pulltight blog in 2005 and have kept the entries online with blogger over the years. Many times I wrote straight into the site with no other documentation. That there was no backup or hard copy of Pulltight started to be somewhat concerning as the years passed; there are a few stories I might not recall or record again if lost. Admittedly much of the blog has been just day to day thoughts on random topics.   But a few of the stories, particularly about old friends, Paluxy or family could be worth remembering and easily it could all be lost. My son started bugging me about making a backup a few months ago. Then he asks for a hard copy for his birthday.   This was the tipping point for converting to a hard copy. Decided to have it bound and make an actual hard copy (Book? Blook?) In chronological order from the date of the first post.   Since th

Growing up I thought Horace had some of the coolest cars. The first one I remember was the one he was driving when his brother was the preacher in Paluxy. He was dating my aunt Glenda. It was a 1955 Chevy, dark green 2 door with dual exhaust, a real classic. I think it was after he and Glenda married that they had a 55 or 56 Ford Crown Victoria. This was the one with an actual crown.   There was a strip of chrome extending from door post to door post over the top of the car. Black, white and chrome; bet is a real collector’s item today, but back in the day it was definitely a cool car. Then a few years later, a blue and white Nash Metropolitan.   Bet you can find these in car museums around the world (and the same color). A fun unique car. Some used to say the Nash looked like an inverted bath tub.   Had to use your imagination a little, but yea, maybe. And then there was the 1967 Pontiac GTO.   White with black vinyl roof; I was old enough to drive by this time and got to

Since mom has been in the hospital, rehab and nursing home the past few months following an accident and a stroke, Dad has had much more time to read. He has always enjoyed reading, but usually just read a few books per year. Recently he is reading 1-2 books per week. He has a Kindle which makes it easy to send books to him. After finishing a fictional series of 18 books, our conversation went sort of like this. Me: What would you like to read next? Dad: Maybe I will write a book? This was a bit of a surprise. Me: Dad, what would you write about? Dad: My life. At 92 years of age, he has many stories and memories we have never heard.   He would sometimes have stories for us, but rarely did anyone sit down just with him.   And, mom always had a lot to say. The family joke was she used all of her words and most of his words each day. This could be interesting. Since Dad will not actually put pen to paper, this seemed an excellent time for me to spend some time just with h

About 2.5 million years ago the claws of our primate ancestors evolved into fingernails as we began using tools. Probably have been mostly dirty ever since. Was in the hospital with mom a few months ago when she suffered serious injuries followed by a stroke.   Noticed her fingernails were a bit dirty even after a few days in ICU.   Suspect, even at age 91, she may have been doing something on the farm or her yard the day of the accident that involved getting her hands and fingernails dirty. Think I might have been in my teens before I realized dirt wasn’t the natural color of fingernails. Dirt was one of my favorite toys and certainly the most ubiquitous as a child. Dirt, mud, toy tractors and trucks took up most of my days until I was old enough to help out on the farm.   Working with old farm equipment just added a new stubborn ingredient - grease (a whole new level of dirty). It was years before my nails would be clean for more than a day or two. What the country n