I know what you mean, but those times taught us to work hard and appreciate today. We will live and die with those good times memories and work to create the good days for our families today. I miss the pop of my Grandads little .410 bolt action. Always one pop and you knew another swamp rabbit was in the bag and away the beagles would go again. They made it through the depression and taught us well. The hardest lick I can remember as a child was from that same Grandfather. I was about 8 and carrying a quart jar of green beans and dropped it. I felt that backhand and it almost knocked me off my feet. No one said a word until we were on the way home and my Father said, "Son, do you know why he hit you?" and I said no. Daddy said, because you wasted food. Well, it was a tough love but I darn sure didn't drop food again. Good times!
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