my maternal granddad use to shave at a washpot on a wood stand next to the front door while looking into a mirror on the wall,water heated on the stove and then poured into the pot for shaving.he wore bib overalls,don't remember him wearing anything else,but the memory it brought back was the smell of his after shave,don't remember what kind it was but it came in a slender long necked bottle.i knew that when i got older i was going to get me some
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what i thought was old fashioned has become ancient,and what i thought was cool has become old fashioned,technology changes that.i know everybody our age at least had some plastic army men to play with in the dirt,launching imaginary battles in our minds for hours it would seem and when holidays would roll around firecrackers served as bombs.
one year for christmas i got two army men that were about six inches tall,they had their rifle in one hand carried in a clinched fist while the other hand was balled in a fist and they were bent at the waist as if scurrying at a fast clip.
i cut the rifle out of their hands with a hacksaw so that the looked like they were ready to fight,everytime i took a bath they went went with me to fight to the death,what memories
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