During the early 1930's, one of the innocents, who could have gotten into big trouble with the law was Will's quiet, petite, apple-slice-baking Grandma Ivy. Seriously, where did Grandma Ivy learn to brew bathtub beer? During the days of her youth in Rumania? Makes me wonder ... know what I mean?
Have you ever wondered how your gentle-mannered grandma spent her time before silver streaks replaced blond or raven, free flowing tresses? What if no one's left to ask? Thank goodness, family stories are passed down, fleshing in surprising details, which would, otherwise, fade into nothingness.
As the story goes: Once Grandma Ivy had bathed and tucked the youngest of her five kids into bed, brewing bathtub beer is exactly what she did. In fact, Will's Uncle Denny, quite the mischief maker in his youth, swears that his mother's bottled brew earned him his high school diploma.
You see, every time Denny'd played hooky, which, to hear him tell it, was more often than not, he'd show up for school the next day, carrying a brown paper bag filled with bottled brew, which had been placed discreetly on the desk of his first period teacher, who, otherwise, would have marked Denny's absence, the previous day, using a pen instead of a pencil, suggesting that as long as this educator wet his whistle, all trace of Denny's absences had been erased, pointing to the fact that Peck's bad boy got off scott free, repeatedly :)
Though fearful imaginings cause many to let go of that which we enjoy, time spent reflecting over the past inspires my think tank to come up with simple plans of action, offering me opportunities to enjoy moments of pure joy, which my conscience had decreed impossible until positive focus broadens my scope. Once positive focus kicks in, common sense suggests that my first thought was not my best thought, and upon second thought, my mind works to separate idealistic impossibility from goals that prove realistically acceptable. In other words—I don't throw the baby out with the bathwater :)
Once temperance softened and prohibition was repealed, gangsters turned to other endeavors. Needless to say those endeavors did not interest Grandma Ivy :)
As long as we are not gangsters, who know no boundaries concerning mutual respect—as long as we do not injure others by driving drunk—as long as we do maintain a clear-eyed hold on the line of control, we can create safe haven by reconsidering boundaries with respect for personal space, because, historically speaking, balance in all things makes terrific sense, don't cha think? :)
When it comes to personal choices, some feel the need to stay so close to the nest that self constraint clips our wings (been there, done that). On the other hand, opening one's mind in hopes of absorbing expansive trains of thought often leads us toward re-evaluating yesterday's self imposed limitations.
Ultimately, while reflecting back with attention to detail, our minds remain grounded in logic as new possibilities arise. And once brainstorming culminates in realistic change for the better, our spirits have reason to soar as high as the sky :)
Any way you look at it, I've offered you a bird's eye view of experiences, which caused my grandpa, the scholarly idealistic, world traveler and my dad, the little greenhorn who'd loved farming, to evolve, by way of necessity, toward embracing a path, which led both to partake in professions that neither would have thought likely … and if you stop to think about it ... Well, that's life.
So having said that, I wonder if you can guess at Yacob's and Jack's next professional steps forward as these real life adventures of father and son continued to evolve until their separate paths became one and the same?
Have you ever wondered how your gentle-mannered grandma spent her time before silver streaks replaced blond or raven, free flowing tresses? What if no one's left to ask? Thank goodness, family stories are passed down, fleshing in surprising details, which would, otherwise, fade into nothingness.
As the story goes: Once Grandma Ivy had bathed and tucked the youngest of her five kids into bed, brewing bathtub beer is exactly what she did. In fact, Will's Uncle Denny, quite the mischief maker in his youth, swears that his mother's bottled brew earned him his high school diploma.
You see, every time Denny'd played hooky, which, to hear him tell it, was more often than not, he'd show up for school the next day, carrying a brown paper bag filled with bottled brew, which had been placed discreetly on the desk of his first period teacher, who, otherwise, would have marked Denny's absence, the previous day, using a pen instead of a pencil, suggesting that as long as this educator wet his whistle, all trace of Denny's absences had been erased, pointing to the fact that Peck's bad boy got off scott free, repeatedly :)
Though fearful imaginings cause many to let go of that which we enjoy, time spent reflecting over the past inspires my think tank to come up with simple plans of action, offering me opportunities to enjoy moments of pure joy, which my conscience had decreed impossible until positive focus broadens my scope. Once positive focus kicks in, common sense suggests that my first thought was not my best thought, and upon second thought, my mind works to separate idealistic impossibility from goals that prove realistically acceptable. In other words—I don't throw the baby out with the bathwater :)
Once temperance softened and prohibition was repealed, gangsters turned to other endeavors. Needless to say those endeavors did not interest Grandma Ivy :)
As long as we are not gangsters, who know no boundaries concerning mutual respect—as long as we do not injure others by driving drunk—as long as we do maintain a clear-eyed hold on the line of control, we can create safe haven by reconsidering boundaries with respect for personal space, because, historically speaking, balance in all things makes terrific sense, don't cha think? :)
When it comes to personal choices, some feel the need to stay so close to the nest that self constraint clips our wings (been there, done that). On the other hand, opening one's mind in hopes of absorbing expansive trains of thought often leads us toward re-evaluating yesterday's self imposed limitations.
Ultimately, while reflecting back with attention to detail, our minds remain grounded in logic as new possibilities arise. And once brainstorming culminates in realistic change for the better, our spirits have reason to soar as high as the sky :)
Any way you look at it, I've offered you a bird's eye view of experiences, which caused my grandpa, the scholarly idealistic, world traveler and my dad, the little greenhorn who'd loved farming, to evolve, by way of necessity, toward embracing a path, which led both to partake in professions that neither would have thought likely … and if you stop to think about it ... Well, that's life.
So having said that, I wonder if you can guess at Yacob's and Jack's next professional steps forward as these real life adventures of father and son continued to evolve until their separate paths became one and the same?
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