Hi, Jacob. I arrived here by way of the Villages' link although I usually stalk you via Ocala. I have wondered how on earth you can maintain so many blogs. Time to begin shrinking the inventory?
Hello dear Jacob, It's a cute gate! People there are very creative and I like the way they turn a simple gate in something special and beautiful like this one! Adorable! Léia
I like to see bits of personality in things like this.
re your comments on pcadp: Yes, we had one student from an African nation who tried to use the commode as a fire pit and complained at the front desk that he couldn't get the water out. This may be an urban legend.
The roofs of the cuartel are used by those of the Muslim faith for their daily prayer calls.
And I remember quite clearly, the night a soldier died from a diabetic coma. His mother kept calling for our security people to go and check on him, but we arrived too late. As the switchboard operator at the time, I had to keep stalling her until the Chaplin was notified and called her. That was a hard night.
Boy, didn't mean to write a book. Have a nice evening, Jacob.
7 comments:
Hi, Jacob. I arrived here by way of the Villages' link although I usually stalk you via Ocala. I have wondered how on earth you can maintain so many blogs. Time to begin shrinking the inventory?
My goodness, I'm away from your blog for two days and I find it shut down! I'll keep my eye out for this new one!!
Hello dear Jacob,
It's a cute gate! People there are very creative and I like the way they turn a simple gate in something special and beautiful like this one! Adorable!
Léia
Nice, if a bit rickety!
Nice gate, very elaborate:)
It is so nice here. Bye-bye Villages!
I like to see bits of personality in things like this.
re your comments on pcadp: Yes, we had one student from an African nation who tried to use the commode as a fire pit and complained at the front desk that he couldn't get the water out. This may be an urban legend.
The roofs of the cuartel are used by those of the Muslim faith for their daily prayer calls.
And I remember quite clearly, the night a soldier died from a diabetic coma. His mother
kept calling for our security people to go and check on him, but we arrived too late. As the switchboard operator at the time, I had to keep stalling her until the Chaplin was notified and called her. That was a hard night.
Boy, didn't mean to write a book. Have a nice evening, Jacob.
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