Have had a "cold" spell here - lows in the 40's and highs in the 50's, & 60's. We are doing well.
Here is something I found on Facebook. Not all of this applies to my growing up, much much does.:
If you were born between 1930 and 1946, you belong to an incredibly rare group: only 1% of your generation is still alive today. At ages ranging from 77 to 93, your era is a unique time capsule in human history.
Here’s why:
You were born into hardship. Your generation climbed out of the Great Depression and bore witness to a world at war. You lived through ration books, saved tin foil, and reused everything—nothing was wasted.
Your imagination was your playground. Without TVs, you played outside and created entire worlds in your mind from what you heard on the radio. The family gathered around the radio for news or entertainment.
Technology was in its infancy. Phones were communal, calculators were hand-cranked, and newspapers were the primary source of information. Typewriters, not computers, recorded thoughts.
Your childhood was secure. Post-WWII brought a bright future—no terrorism, no internet, no global warming debates. It was a golden era of optimism, innovation, and growth.
You are the last generation to live through a time when:
Black-and-white TVs were cutting-edge.
Highways weren’t motorways.
Shopping meant visiting downtown stores.
Polio was a feared disease.
While your parents worked hard to rebuild their lives, you grew up in a world of endless possibilities. You thrived in a time of peace, progress, and security that the world may never see again.
If you’re over 77 years old, take pride in having lived through these extraordinary times. You are one of the lucky 1% who can say, "I lived through the best of times."
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Here is another, earlier history story:
In the early afternoon of 1902, two young ladies made a striking appearance as they glided down a country lane in a Lawson’s Motor Wheel vehicle. The driver, wearing a tailored coat and gloves, held the rudimentary tiller with an air of determination. Her wide-brimmed hat, adorned with feathers, was secured tightly against the gentle breeze, a testament to the ingenuity of fashion in the age of innovation. Beside her, the passenger, dressed in a delicate lace-trimmed blouse and skirt, clutched her parasol, her face glowing with excitement at the novelty of the ride.
The Lawson’s Motor Wheel, an early motorized contraption, was a marvel of its time. Mounted on the back of a lightweight cart, its small single-cylinder engine emitted rhythmic puffs of smoke and a soft mechanical chugging. The wooden-spoked wheels rattled over the uneven road, yet the vehicle held steady, its clever engineering overcoming the primitive infrastructure.
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