P is for Pop Pops.
My grandpa. I didn’t see him often. He lived with my grandma in a rural part of Kentucky when I was growing up in New York. A small place that backed up to woods. His name was Henry Ezekiel Beckley but they called him Zeke.
Me with my Pop Pop and Grandma
He had this rough, twangy accent that rolled over you like crackling peanut brittle. I’d sit on his lap and when my mom wasn’t watching he’d let me have puffs of his cigarette. We’d play horseshoes out back. Sometimes we’d head down to the pond to go turtle fishing. He had a collection of shiny shells.
I never ventured outside there on a summer night. I lay in my bed listening to a ghostly montauk-monster.com/pharmacy/adipex hound baying under the moon. Pop Pop told me it was the devil dog that roamed the woods at night. Stay inside and he wouldn’t get you, Pop Pop said. I believed him.
He would take me with him to the Dead Horse Holler Tavern some times. An old place with peeling white paint. It looked like bird doo doo had been slapped on it over time. I’d get a Coke in a glass bottle and press it to my face, enjoying its coldness in the muggy Kentucky summer.
Pop Pop. Grandpa. Grandfather. Grandad.
My mom called hers Pappy.
My son calls one Pop Pop and the other Grampy.
Do you have a Pop Pop and fond memories? What was he like?
Okay so I’m doing happy dance for you right now! So excited about your reviews. AWESOME! I will be tweeting, & +1’n this BTW.
Mina, you are a doll! Perhaps you could win the actual book now and not just the ARC 🙂 No typos in this one – LOL!
Congratulations, Donna, on your book. I need to go check it out. It looks intriguing…
Memories? More than a few good memories. My maternal step-grandfather I called Gamfir–a bastardization of the Norwegian Gammlefar. Gamfir had a mink ranch in the northern wilds of Wisconsin. I’d help him feed and water the mink and check on the babies. He wasn’t a big talker but he told good stories. He would let me sit on his lap and watch Popeye and he loved Lawrence Welk (me? sorta kinda on blue moons) It was an every Sunday evening show we all watched–if we wanted to watch TV, lol!
My paternal was southern. I called him granddad. From him, came my love of Tweetie (really) and instrumental music and in particular, jazz. He was regal sort of man but had a great sense of humor.
Sia McKye OVER COFFEE
Sia, what an absolutely wonderful story and name-Gamfir! Such lovely memories of both your grandfathers, I hope you can write about them someday.
WOW 18 five star reviews is wonderful you should be so proud! That’s great!
Unfortunately, both my Gramps died before I could create memories with them. One before I was born and one when I was three. I have stories that people tell me of my Gramps Bud who used to take me every Saturday to the donut shop to show his buddies, but I can’t remember.
It’s an odd feeling to miss someone you can’t remember.
Good topics,
Michelle 🙂
http://www.michelle-pickett.com/blog
Michelle, thanks for stopping. I never new my mom’s parents – neither did she really as they both died when she was real young. I know the feeling if missing a person you never knew – but you wish you did. Good luck on winning the ebook once I hit 20 5 stars! 🙂
Pop Pop is cute. Congrats on that many five star reviews.
“. . . rolled over you like crackling peanut brittle.” _ Fantastic description. I can hear his voice.
Lucy, thanks so much! It was the only way I could describe it.
This is the accurate A to Z: P is for Praise & Pop Pops | blog for anyone who wants to attempt out out virtually this theme. You attention so such its nigh debilitating to reason with you (not that I real would want…HaHa). You definitely put a new protract on a subject thats been shorthand most for period. Discriminating meaninglessness, just zealous!