Admiral Ace Lyons – Says it All in Three Minutes
Admiral Ace Lyons – Says it All in Three Minutes
Old English Expressions
Old English Expressions
There is an old Hotel/Pub in Marble Arch, London, which used to have a gallows adjacent to it
Prisoners were taken to the gallows (after a fair trial of course!) to be hanged.The horse-drawn dray, carting the prisoner, was accompanied by an armed guard, who would stop the dray outside the pub and ask the prisoner if he would like ”ONE LAST DRINK”.
If he said YES, it was referred to as ONE FOR THE ROAD.
If he declined, that Prisoner was ON THE WAGON.
So there you go …
More history……..They used to use urine to tan animal skins, so families used to all pee in a pot and then once a day it was taken and sold to the tannery.
If you had to do this to survive you were “piss poor“.
But worse than that were the really poor folk, who couldn’t even afford to buy a pot; they “Didn’t have a pot to piss in” and were the lowest of the low.
The next time you are washing your hands and complain because the water temperature isn’t just how you like it, think about how things used to be….
Here are some facts about England in the 1500s:Most people got married in June because they took their yearly bath in May and they still smelled pretty good by June!! However, since they were starting to smell, brides carried a bouquet of flowers to hide the body odor.
Hence the custom today of carrying a bouquet when getting married.
Baths consisted of a big tub filled with hot water. The man of the house had the privilege of the nice clean water, then all the other sons and men, then the women and finally the children. Last of all the babies.
By then the water was so dirty you could actually lose someone in it.!
Hence the saying, “Don’t throw the baby out with the bath water!”
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Houses had thatched roofs, thick straw piled high, with no wood underneath.It was the only place for animals to get warm, so all the cats and other small animals (mice, bugs) lived in the roof.
When it rained it became slippery and sometimes the animals would slip and fall off the roof.
Hence the saying “It’s raining cats and dogs.”—————
There was nothing to stop things from falling into the house.This posed a real problem in the bedroom,
where bugs and other droppings could mess up your nice clean bed.
Hence, a bed with big posts and a sheet hung over the top afforded some protection.
That’s how canopy beds came into existence
———————
The floor was dirt. Only the wealthy had something other than dirt.
Hence the saying, “dirt poor.”
The wealthy had slate floors that would get slippery in the winter when wet so they spread thresh (straw) on floor to help keep their footing. As the winter wore on they added more thresh until, when you opened the door, it would all start slipping outside.A piece of wood was placed in the entrance.
Hence: a thresh hold. (Getting quite an education, aren’t you?)
—————————–Sometimes they could obtain pork, which made them feel quite special.When visitors came over they would hang up their bacon, to show off. It was a sign of wealth that a man could, “Bring home the bacon.”
They would cut off a little to share with guests and would all sit around talking and ”chew the fat”.
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Those with money had plates made of pewter. Food with high acid content caused some of the lead to leach onto the food causing lead poisoning and death.
This happened most often with tomatoes.
So for the next 400 years or so, tomatoes were considered poisonous.
—————————— —————————
Bread was divided according to status.Workers got the burnt bottom of the loaf,
The family got the middle, and guests got the top, or ”The Upper Crust”.
—————————— —————————-
Lead cups were used to drink ale or whisky.The combination would sometimes knock the imbibers out for a couple of days. Someone walking along the road would take them for dead and prepare them for burial. They were laid out on the kitchen table for a couple of days and the family would gather around and eat and drink and wait and see if they would wake up.
Hence the custom of ”Holding a Wake’’.
—————————— —England is old and small and the local folks started running out of places to bury people, so they would dig up coffins and would take the bones to a bone-house and reuse the grave!When reopening these coffins, 1 out of 25 coffins were found to have scratch marks on the inside and they realized they had been burying people alive. So they would tie a string on the wrist of the corpse, thread it through the coffin and up through the ground and tie it to a bell.
Someone would have to sit out in the graveyard all night (the graveyard shift) to listen for the bell; thus someone could be, ”Saved by the Bell” or was considered a ”Dead Ringer.”
And that’s the truth.!!—————————— —————————–
Now, whoever said English history was boring ! ! !So….. get out there and educate someone!
Share these facts with a friend, just as I did!
Posted in Fun, Interesting Stuff
Throw Out the Liberals / Progressives That are Destroying Our San Francisco! Please !!
The Cemetery Watchman
The Cemetery Watchman
Cemetery Watchman
My friend Kevin and I volunteer at a national cemetery in Oklahoma. Today had been a long day, my hip was painful and all I wanted was to head down to Smokey’s and have a cold one. Sneaking a look at my watch, it was 16:55. Five minutes to go before the cemetery gates closed for the day. Marine blues are hot in the August sun. Our Oklahoma summer was as bad as ever, with heat and humidity both too high.
I saw the car pull into the driveway, a ’69 or ’70 model Cadillac, looked factory-new. It pulled into the parking lot at a snail’s pace. An old woman got out so slowly I thought she was paralyzed; she had a cane and a sheaf of flowers, four or five bunches as best as I could tell.
I couldn’t help myself. The thought came and left a slightly bitter taste: ‘She’s going to spend an hour, and my hip hurts and I’m ready to get out of here right now!’ But my duty was to assist anyone coming in.
Kevin would lock the in gate, and if I could hurry the old gal along, we might make it to Smokey’s in time.
I broke post attention. My hip made noises when I took the first step and pain went up a notch. I must have made a great military sight: middle-aged guy with a small gut and a limp, in Marine dress uniform which had lost its razor-sharp creases about thirty minutes after I began my watch at the cemetery.
I stopped in front of her. She looked up at me with an old woman’s squint.
‘ Ma’am, may I assist you? ‘
‘ Yes, son. Can you carry these flowers? I seem to be moving a tad slow these days. ‘
‘ My pleasure, ma’am. ‘ (It wasn’t too much of a lie.)
She looked at me again. ‘ Marine, where were you stationed? ‘
‘ Vietnam, ma’am, ’69 to ’70. ‘
She looked at me closer. ‘ Wounded, I see. Well done, Marine. I’ll be as quick as I can. ‘
I lied a little bigger: ‘ No hurry, ma’am. ‘
She smiled and winked at me. ‘ Son, I’m 85-years-old and I can tell a lie from a long way off. Let’s get this done. Might be the last time I can do this. My name’s Joanne Wieserman, and I’ve a few Marines I’d like to see one more time. ‘
‘ Yes, ma ‘am, at your service. ‘
She headed for the World War I section, stopping at a stone. She picked one of the flower bunches out of my arm and laid it on top of the stone. She murmured something I couldn’t quite make out. The name on the marble was Donald S. Davidson, USMC, France 1918 .
She turned away and made a straight line for the World War II section, stopping at another stone. I saw a tear tracking its way down her cheek. She put a bunch on a stone, it said Stephen X. Davidson, USMC, 1943 .
She went up the row and laid another bunch on a stone, Stanley J.Wieserman, USMC, 1944 .
She paused for a second and more tears flowed.
‘ Two more, son, and we’ll be done ‘I almost didn’t say anything, but, ‘ Yes, ma’am, take your time. ‘
She looked confused. ‘ Where’s the Vietnam section?
I seem to have lost my way. ‘I pointed ‘ That way, ma’am. ‘
‘Oh!’ she chuckled quietly. ‘ Son, me and old age ain’t too friendly. ‘
She headed down the walk. She stopped at a couple of stones before she found the ones she wanted. She placed a bunch on Larry Wieserman, USMC, 1968 , and the last on Darrel Wieserman, USMC, 1970. She stood and murmured a few words I still couldn’t make out and more tears flowed.
‘ OK, son, I’m finished. Get me back to my car and you can go home. ‘
‘Yes, ma’am. If I may ask, were those your kinfolk? ‘
‘ Yes, Donald Davidson was my father, Stephen was my uncle, Stanley was my husband, Larry and Darrel were our sons. All killed in action, all Marines. ‘
She stopped. Whether she had finished, or couldn’t finish, I don’t know. She made her way to her car, and got in slowly and painfully.
I waited for a polite distance to come between us and then double-timed it over to Kevin, waiting by his car.
‘ Get to the out gate quickly. There’s something I’ve got to do. ‘
Kevin started to say something, but saw the look I gave him. He got us down the service road fast. We beat her. She hadn’t made it around the rotunda yet.
‘ Kevin, stand at attention next to the gate. Follow my lead. ‘ I humped it across the drive to the other side.
When the Cadillac came around the hedges and began the short turn toward the gate, I called out in my best Gunny’s voice: ‘TehenHut! Preeesent Haaaarms! ‘
I have to hand it to Kevin; he never blinked – stood at attention with a salute that would make any DI proud.
She drove through that gate with two old worn-out Marines giving her the send-off she deserved, for service rendered to her country, and for knowing duty, honor and sacrifice far beyond the realm of most.
I am not sure but I think I saw a salute from the Cadillac.
As a final thought, let me share a small prayer: ‘Lord, keep our servicemen and women safe, whether they serve at home or overseas. Hold them in your loving hands and protect them as they protect us. ‘
Let’s all keep those currently serving and those who have gone before in our thoughts and prayers. They are the reason for the many freedoms we enjoy.
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