My Grandpa Bud

My Grandpa on my mom’s side was dead before I came around. His name was Floyd Light although no one ever called him Floyd, he was called Bud by everyone including my Mother. Bud, yes you heard right, the original Bud Light, long before the brand of beer…

A little boy a long time ago.

I was a lonely little boy growing up on the Prairie, 17 miles north of the nearest town. My folks were 42 and 41 when I was born. The nearest kids my age were 5 miles to the southwest. One was a little older, a girl and one was a little younger, a boy. What a time we 3 had…

Friends forgotten for awhile…

The past likes to creep up on you, some good some bad memories. It’s always there in your mind. Someplace in a cupboard you don’t usually open or have forgotten in a box buried in the garage or the attic covered with dust, but always there. Someone, someplace you have not thought of in years and all of a sudden it pops up.

Hurry, hurry, hurry, oops too late…

I was always in a hurry it seemed.

Always trying to catch up or do things that should have been done yesterday.

My Dad said I always worked like I was killing snakes, I said I had good teachers.

One particular day I was in a big hurry and needed to clean out my pickup so I could…

Pete the babysitter..

My first trip to the Bitterroot Mountains to hunt was when I was 6 or 7. My Dad took us along with our 22 rifles and our enthusiasm.
He of course wanted to hunt with his pals and anyone who ever hunted elk in the High Country knows you don’t take two little boys in the wilderness with you. So what to do?,,,

Remembering… I “member that”…

When I think about my early life and how to describe it I’m reminded of my daughter when she was small, if you asked her if she remembered something she would reply ” I member that”. Well I like to “member that” too. The sights and sounds of my early years are…