The personal stories that you published inspired me to send along a personal humorous story.

My grandfather was a Baptist minister all of his life.  He was born in 1877, the year the telephone was invented.  They had no cars, airplanes, radio, TV, or chainsaws (which is relevant to the story).

When he was in his nineties, he was in a nursing home with Alzheimers (I, in my sixties, am already suffering from Someheimers).  He was in a wheelchair and he kept trying to get out when he wasn't being watched, and he would fall and break a bone.  Thus, they tied him in the chair with bedsheets.

We went to visit him and he had this long story about how he had been out cutting wood all day.  His story went that he had all of the men from the church out trying to clear a forest and the women brought a lunch for all of the timbermen.  When it came lunchtime, they, the people from his church, asked him to give a sermon.  My sister asked, with a wink to the rest of us, "Well, what did you talk about?"  He said, "About fifteen minutes."

He was so out of his mind that he hardly knew his own name, and he certainly did not know anyone in the room with him (his daughter and his grandchildren).  However, even in that weakened state, it was rather amazing that he still had his sense of humor.

There is another story that we love to tell about my grandmother.  Before we moved to Delaware, we lived on Tenth Avenue in Columbus, Ohio.  This was right on the southern border of OSU campus.  On football Saturday, if you took your car to run an errand, you would not have a chance of finding a parking spot within miles of your home for the rest of the day.

My grandmother always wanted my granddad to go to the store to get something, so she asked us "kids," at the time, to carry out the piano bench to put in the vacant parking spot.  Then she, a seventy-five-year-old woman, would stand by the piano bench with a yardstick, fending off anyone who dared to consider parking in that spot by flailing threatenly.  Maybe you had to be there, but it was such a comic sight.

Warning: Don't ask about our grandkids or you will miss lunch for the next three days.

Wishes of peace and healthful longevity to all.  Rog Gledhill

Here are some pictures of our little "miracle" grandson, Jagger (Jag). Kyle's daughter, Meredith, gave birth to this little guy (4 lbs-14 oz, 18" long) on March 28th. Both mother and baby went through quite an ordeal in the few hours after birth.  They were both in the hospital for ten days and I'm happy to report they are home now and doing fine. Scary at first, though. This is Kyle's first grandbaby and is she ever ecstatic.  She can't leave him alone.  I think she found a new boyfriend. "John, go play golf or something."

Hope everyone had a Happy Easter.   John & Kyle