Memories of World War I by Robinson Shepard (my grandpa) – page 4: Where Grampa heads towards the Front and sees the Halifax fire

Posted on by Sandy

NOTE: The most amazing part about reading this part of my Grandpa’s diary is that H (my “James”) and I were in Halifax for our honeymoon – and the historian who was showing us around told us about the fire that destroyed most of Halifax. Little did I know that my grandfather had been a witness to it!!!!!!!!!!!

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July 8 or 9th we got on the troop train and headed for New Hampshire. I was pretty excited when we stopped at Tilton for a few minutes, but I didn’t see anyone I knew. The curtains had to be down, but for some reason I was on “guard” and could go from one car to another so I stayed on the platform for some time hoping to at least see the taxi man, who would have told Father he had seen me – but no such luck. I had never seen beyond The Weirs, so Plymouth, West Rumney, Woodsville also was new to me. (Little did I suspect My Future – 1931 – was living in West Rumney, New Hampshire. I wonder if she saw the train go by.) [This was a note with respect to my grandmother – and the best part is the NEXT note is written BY my grandmother – MES – Myra E. Shepard!!] (NOTE: In July 1918 I was at home in summer, South Wentworth, but lived in Orford during the school year. MES) Near the Canadian border, the milkmen were just arriving and htey had dish pans of real cream that were passed around and everyone had a big drink. I remember how good it tasted.

Eventually we got to Montreal and backed down to the wharf and got our first sight of “HMT” Durham Castle, an old cattle boat used between England and South Africa. The “HMT” stood for “His Majesty’s Transport,” but it was always referred to as His Majesty’s Tub and was our home for the next three weeks. I was assigned to the orlop deck, two decks below waterline. The bunks were five high and htere was a great scramble to get the topmost. I got one next to the top, and luckily the fellow above me wasn’t seasick. Came up on deck in time to see us pull out and a fellow on the pier semaphored “Bon Voyage.” Started down the St. Lawrence River, but ran into a sandbar at Three Rivers, after a while we got off and the next morning passed quite near Charlettetown P.E.I.  Sunday morning and we could hear Church bells. Very peaceful passage and smooth sailing. However, after leaving the lee of the Island, it was very rough. I remember coming up from below as fast as I could, feeling very seasick. When I got to the deck, someone turned around and saw me and let out a yell so the crowd quickly parted and I got to the rail where a deep breath of fresh air cured me, and I didn’t whoop. Some of the boys seemed to think I put it all on, to get to the rail – but I stayed there! Should say the soldiers had only one deck, and there were so many that only one out of 5 or 6 could get to the rail. All the first class and ohter decks were occupied by the officers, and nursers, about 100. I heard that one officer was disciplined as he was overheard asking a nurse if she wanted to go down “to see the animals feed.”

Finally we got to Halifax and a calm harbor and stayed htere 3 days, until the convoy – 23 ships – among them the Mauretania – assembled. We were near enough to the city to see some remnants of the fire which had wiped out a good many buildings. We saw a long train which we fondly thought had come from Boston. There was one that used ot be at 9 p.m., Boston, whihc was due in Halifax about the time we saw this.

Those who wished could dive in for a swim, but remembering my Still River experience, I didn’t. Once we had to get into a small boat (don’t recall how) then with a pack (knapsack) climb a swinging rope ladder 25 feet or so back up to the boat. I thought I’d never make it! Toward the end I had all I could do to hold on and was glad then hands grabbed me and pulled me in. I guess others were the same and everyone seemed to be pulled in.

 

Feisty’s College Connection: Living Your Passion NOW

Posted on by Sandy

Psst, here’s a secret: the college years are probably the only time in your life when you’re not only encouraged but expected to live a passionate life. People expect young adults to be full of energy, enthusiasm, and idealism. This means that now’s the time to start exploring and pursuing the things that really interest you.

Your passion is unique. I can’t tell you what it is. It might be social justice, writing poetry, or playing a killer game of basketball. Maybe your passion is green living or hosting medieval feasts. Maybe it’s swimming with dolphins. But I guarantee that there’s something in your life right now that makes you feel tingly and happy inside whenever you’re doing it, or even thinking about doing it. 

Now, what are you going to do about it?

College is great because you’re surrounded by people who are just as passionate as you are. So a lot of the institutions that people already off in the “real world” need to hunt for, you’ve got at your fingertips. Here are a few:

Find or start a student club.

No matter what your passion is, there’s probably a club set up on campus devoted to it. If there isn’t, create one! You’d be surprised how many people flock to you once you start putting the word out.

Read the campus paper.

Your campus paper will give you tons of information, not only on campus politics and local happenings, but also on upcoming events and gatherings. And if there’s something you want to say, submit a classified ad or write an article yourself!

Go to events that interest you.

Most university websites have an “upcoming events” page. Get in the habit of checking it. You’ll probably find things that interest you. No matter how you hear about interesting things — like rallies, guest lectures, or homecoming games — go! There’s no time like the present!

Meet your new friends.

If you’ve done everything (or even a few things) listed above, you’ll start running into people who share your passion. Congratulations! You’re well on the way to having a new social clique. Just remember: always be on the lookout for more opportunities. You never know when you might find one.

 

Attention Bond Grrls “of a certain age”:

True, it might not be as easy for you to find the resources (or the time) to pursue your passion once you move beyond the hallowed halls of academia. But it’s still possible. There are still guest lectures, groups, and specialty magazines to connect you with “birds of a feather.” Even better, the people you meet will probably have lots of experience and knowledge to share!

Australian Wildfires

Posted on by Sandy

The article below appeared in The Age (a Melbourne newspaper) yesterday. It was sent to me by a Bond Girl down “under.” If you have the time to read it, its an incredible story.  As they say in Australia, I don’t know “how I would go” in the same situation!

I now understand the word ‘firestorm’

 

Luke van den Berk is the caretaker of a 33-hectare Kinglake West property, owned by the Macedonian Church. When the firestorm hit, he was trapped in the house with his children — sons Aaron, 13 and Khyle, 12, and daughter Brodee, 16 — and his girlfriend, Lois MacDonald, 42. This is their story

 

THERE wasn’t much warning.

 

I’m on a good basis with the national park rangers … they are over the fence from me. Ranger Tony Fitzgerald was giving us updates on what was happening, but as we got our last update we could hear the fire coming up the ridge behind us. He went down the hill of the national park on one of the tourist roads and came back up and said the fires were 700 metres away. He said: “You can leave now if you want to. If you want to stay we will help you out if we can.”

 

We decided to stay in the house. Within three minutes the flames were 30 to 40 metres high. There were horizontal sparks and embers — the wind was just incredible. The word “firestorm” — I have a clear understanding of it now.

We were inside the house and the noise outside was incredible. Sparks and embers were bashing up against the roof and the windows, the fence had caught fire, the woodpile against the house caught fire.

Then the windows started exploding — it sounded like a 747 taking off. It was broad daylight but it went dark because there was so much smoke and stuff — it just went dark.

The house was on fire. I had three attempts at getting everyone out safely — they were all in the lounge room. I kept going outside to see if we could get a decent path out, but the radiant heat was the killer. The first two times I went out, the radiant heat just forced me back in the house.

At that point I knew I had to wait for that initial part of the storm to pass over. Unfortunately, it consumed the house while we were in it. I shut all the bedroom doors.

We lost two cats and five kittens — I had to shut the bedroom door and we listened to them die. We saved our little dog, Cougar. It was traumatic for the kids. I had to shut the door because the windows had exploded and the bedrooms were on fire.

I made my third attempt at going outside. The radiant heat had passed a little, and I just thought, “We have to get out.” I had buckets of water outside. I took them in and got sheets and towels, dipped them into the water and wrapped everyone up over their heads and their faces and told them we had to go.

When we were 100 metres from the house, the roof collapsed. That was one or two minutes after we got out.

We ran out into the street. There were flames everywhere. You just looked down the street and there was devastation. It was like the army came in and bombed the whole thing with napalm.

We were running down the street. Gas cylinders were exploding. A lot of the cylinders had safety features on them … apparently when a gas cylinder heats up, a valve releases and all the gas comes out of the cylinder, so there was lots of shhhh noises.

A lot of cars were exploding — it was like a war zone. We had to step over power lines, go under power lines, there were power poles falling over in front of us, trees coming down everywhere.

And the noise — all I can compare it to is the sound of a 747 taking off. We were running down the street and the radiant heat was getting at us. We had to keep moving. If you stood still you would have shrivelled.

We ran down the street for about a kilometre — there was just no one, no one to help. My girlfriend was going, “Where the hell are the fire brigade?” I said, “We are on our own, we have got to go.” I just had to keep them going, I said, “Keep going, keep going, faster.”

We got to one house about a kilometre away and there was someone there spraying water on it. We took refuge in their house. There was a lady inside. We were probably there for about 10 minutes.

I was popping in and out of the house because I was paranoid about what was going to happen. His pump stopped working and then his balcony caught fire and I just went back in and said, “We gotta go.” My girlfriend didn’t want to leave. I started swearing: “We have got to go f—ing now.” We got the kids and the dog and we left … we left those people there. Fortunately we caught up with them at the third house we got to — our final refuge.

We went to another house where a man was watering down his house. He had his son with him. He told us to get inside and we felt quite safe. He was outside running round, wetting it all down. Then another 10 minutes went past and he said, “I can’t save it — we’ve got to go.”

We had to go only 50 metres over the road to the third house. It was owned by a lady who was a CFA member and she had left the firefighting front to come home and save her home. She was really well set up. She had fire pumps.

The kids sheltered in the basement part of the house — they were very traumatised. My daughter was having an asthma attack at that point. We had no medication and we had to get her down low on the floor because it was all full of smoke under the house as well. I just had to talk her through it, telling her, “You have just got to calm down, you have to breathe through it slowly, just relax, we are safe now.”

When she was feeling a bit better I went out and helped the men. We were there for about half an hour until the bulk of the flames had left. Then we were just going around the house blacking out spot fires.

We stayed there for probably about an hour and then went to the local CFA and slept on the floor there for the night.

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These fires were most likely set by people – arson. I heard on the news the other day that their Prime Minister (believe it was) stated that when (not if) they catch the folks who did this, they’ll consider it mass murder. I couldn’t agree more.


If you would like to donate to help specifically towards the Victoria Bush Fire, here is a link to the Red Cross’s appeal for the crisis.

The Passport Photo: Following My Own Advice

Posted on by Sandy

passporgt stampsOkay, SO. About a year ago, I was fat (happy), and in need of a new driver’s license. Contrary to my own good advice in my book fEmpowerment, I basically went down to the DMV, and took the photo.

I’d put on the makeup, I’d done the hair, but….BAAAAD. So VERY VERY BAD. Lordie lordie.

Of course, it doesn’t help that my last Driver’s License photo (and my last passport photo, I might add) where fantastic. How that happened, I have no idea – we all know how bad “those photos are.” But there you go.

So I have a driver’s license photo that looks like I’m Frankenstein’s stepsister (I actually keep the old, expired one in the little driver’s license “window” because the new one is so frightening). I wasn’t gunna let that happen with the passport.

Why the passport right now? Well, we’re going on a phenomenal journey to Peru in June…so I thought I’d have plen-tee of time to lose the weight, etc., especially as I started losing at the end of last year. As I have posted before, weight-wise, I am 1/2 way there right now. HOWEVER, I recently won a trip for 2 to Cozumel, through SendOutCards. (Hey, it’s NICE to have a job that, if you do well, gives you things like camera, jewelry, trips…love it!) The “rule” for cruises to Mexico now is that your passport has to have 6 months “left on it” for you to go.

The problem? Mine expires in July! I thought I might want to get one for the June Peru trip – but not for Mexico in March! Yikes!

So again, I’m 1/2 way to my weight goal – but we all know that the face fat is one of the last “to go.” But I needed to get the passport goin’ ASAP.

THIS time, following my own advice from fEmpowerment [click here, then search for pages 84-86], I set the day aside. First, I went to the hair gal. She did me up. Then I went to my friend’s house who is a whizz at makeup. SHE did me up. Then I went to the passport photo place – which is also where my mailbox is – and since the gal there was not busy…I made her take TWENTY (digital) photos. Click-flash-look. Too serious. Click-flash-look. Hair too weird. Click-flash-look. Head too tilted. Click-flash-look. Too goofy. You get the…picture.

The gal was just laughing and shaking her head. But she was a good sport. Of course, I also handed her a $20 bill for the $12 passport photo charge and “waved” for her to “keep the change” – my guess is none of it will go in the till at all – but she was more than happy to keep snapping. We got it down to one, but I thought it was a little serious, and my head was kinda tilted (and I still felt my face looked fat), but she liked it well enough. I went to the post office to get the passport info in – and the passport folks had gone home early. I looked at the photo and went BACK – she was still there, shook her head when I walked in…and we took more (she didn’t even charge me). I finally wound up with one that I liked mo’bettah. So tomorrow I’m off to get it passport-i-fied.

The photo isn’t as great as the AWESOME one currently on my passport. Of course, I’m also at least a decade older, and “wiser” (or is that just “a decade more of life/work/stress under my belt”?) But heck, the photo is SO MUCH better than I think 90% of the passport photos I’ve ever seen – and LIGHT years better than my Franken-driver’s license.

Sure, I wish I could have taken it in a couple months like planned – so my face wouldn’t be “showing the heavy” quite so much. But it is FINE. And I did “what I said to do” in the book – I had set that passport photo as a goal and was working towards it – I just didn’t know that I would need to push the goal “forward” about 3 months!

I feel SO relieved though, because compared to the driver’s license, I’m a Hollywood starlet. Phew!

Memories of World War I by Robinson Shepard (my grandpa) – page 3: Where Math wins the day and Grampa joins the Masons

Posted on by Sandy

Once in a while, you could get a pass to go to Ayers. There in the basement of the Odd Fellows Hall, were a couple of pool tables. If the soldier, or his father, was an Odd Fellow he could use the tables. By virtue of Father’s being an Odd Fellow I played pool several times – the only times I ever have.

In the spring, we went on a hike to Still River, Mass., the artillery range and camped in pup tents, under artillery fire. One night it rained hard and the boys who hadn’t bothered to lie a “traunch” as per directions, got soaked. Glad to say my tentmates and I stayed dry. Coming back to Devens, 5 miles or so, I got a ride iwth a motorcycle carrier. I rode behind him on the baggage rack; I stuck on, but wished I had walked.

Our mess sergeant was a fellow named Carroll, from Lawrence, Mass. Among other things, he had to figure on an allowance of 37-1/2 cents a day, per man, for food. Once I happened to see him scratching his head on his figuring, so I did a little very simple figuring for him. He was amazed and wanted me to keep on. I pretended it was very complicated (as he thought) but said I’d try it, if I was free of other duties (fatigues, KP, etc.) As the company was doing nothing but moving a big pile of coal, in wheelbarrows, from one place to another and back again to take up the time, I didn’t feel I was shirking anything. Carroll jumped at the chance and said I could be “dining room orderly” and have nothing to do but figure out meals. So I strung out a 15 minute job to about 2 hours, accompanied by considerable sweat, which he thought was normal. I kept this job for about 6 weeks, until I got sick of it, and went back to moving the coal pile. Another thing during my tenure as DRO, the company was quarantined for measles, with only the officers being allowed to leave camp. (Apparently the officers wouldn’t spread measles!) Since I had to go to Ayer to the bank every week, I got a pass. This, by the way, was one of the inducements to taking the “job.” Prior to the DRO I got the German measles and was in the camp hospital for a while. I don’t remember how long. In the hospital room were two rows of beds, probably 12 to a row. About all I remember is that early in the morning basins of water were distributed and everyone had to get up and wash (scrub) his bed.

Out at Still River I am sure Harold Holliday saved my life. There was a Lake and everybody had to go swimming. I got a cramp, or something, and couldn’t swim and sank, then came to the surface and yelled for help. Harold was about 10 feet away and grabbed me as I was going under and towed me to shore.

I was initiated into Masonry while I was at Camp Devens. Getting a pass to go home was uncertain, so the Master (Dunbar Seamans) got a special dispensation in order for me to have the 2nd and 3rd degrees the same night. The Lodge at Ayers, by request, “worked” many soldiers for other Lodges, therefore had a meeting at least 5 times a week. After I became a Mason, I could, and did, visit their lodge a good many times. Which was more pleasant than staying in the Barracks if you weren’t on duty – such as fatigues, KP, stables, etc. After the War during our last year in Harvard College, Harold Holliday’s father was District Deputy Grand Master for the district around Boston. He had a visitation twice a month or oftener and always had two extra tickets (for banquets no doubt – he [Grampa] stopped there. steno [this might have been my grandmother)]

Several times I got an overnight pass to go home and would take the trolley to N. Chemsford and the train from there to Franklin [New Hampshire]. The trolley was always packed and the train always stopped at N. Chelmsford for the soldiers. Towards the end of spring I got a 3 day pass to go to Bangor [Maine] and see hte folks there. That was a “furlough pass” and 1 cent per mile was in effect, and a form had to accompany the request and there was only one form available, so I paid $2.50 one way and nearer $10 to come back. Great! About June we turned in the heavy woolens and got khaki uniforms which felt fine and lasted two weeks, when we went back to the woolies for overseas. Of course, all sorts of rumors were around and it was understood the quartermaster’s corps was the only ongoing overseas so I applied for a transfer. However, the whole division went, so I withdrew my application.

Feisty’s College Connection: Never ask for an extension again

Posted on by Sandy

Today I’m going to teach you two tricks to get great grades without asking for extensions and without pulling all-nighters. I got straight-As for seven years of post-secondary education and never once stayed up all night to do it. Here’s how you can, too. Because nothing is as guaranteed to create garbage results, cause tons of stress, and turn you into a walking zombie as starting to write a paper at 3 a.m. on the day it’s due. Trust me.

 

Trick #1: Set aside 1-2 hours a day for assignments, and plan them out now

By now, you should have already put all your exam dates and assignment due dates into your agenda or calendar program. (If you haven’t, do this right now before continuing to read.) If you have, you’ve already realized an unfortunate truth: deadlines are cowards, so they attack in groups. You might not have anything due this week, but when midterms hit, you might face two exams and three assignments in a single week.

The only way to tackle this is by planning for it now. For every assignment and exam, figure out how much time it will take you. Break it down into 1-2 hour tasks if possible. Then figure out when you’re going to do these tasks and write them into your agenda.

Got two assignments due on the same day? Which are you going to tackle first? Or are you going to stagger them? Plan it now. Write it down! Yes, you might find yourself starting a few weeks earlier than anyone else in your class, but it’ll pay off when you can go out on partying the night before the deadline, stress-free.

 

Trick #2: Add an extra 30%

Okay, you’ve got all your dates set for assignment prep and study time. You’re ready to go, right? Not so fast! Now I want you to go back and add more days. For every 3 days you’ve set aside, add one more. Don’t assign a specific task to these sessions, just let them sit there.

These extra days are for the inevitable printer malfunction, emergency library trip, and flaky partner. You don’t want to have a perfectly-planned schedule, only to get thrown off on day 2 because the book you want isn’t in the library or Internet connection died. Professors have heard every excuse there is, and when you say, “I  need an extension,” they hear, “I haven’t started yet.” I used to be a T.A. Trust me on this one. Don’t force your professors into that situation: plan the extra sessions.

 

One last tip: If you do find yourself needing an extension, ask early and be honest. I asked for one (and only one) extension during my university career, because I had been in the hospital with a serious asthma attack and had no energy for three days. I let my prof know as soon as I got out of the hospital, showed him the doctor’s note, and got a 3-day extension. Extensions are meant for these kinds of emergencies. Don’t fall back on them because of poor planning. You’ll be doing your professors (and yourself) a great service.

 

Attention Bond Grrls “of a certain age”:

Have you realized that all these tips apply to work life as well? Everyone has deadlines, and the sooner you start planning for them, the less you’ll need to work evening and weekend shifts to meet them.

Biggest Loser 2009

Posted on by Sandy

SO, this year, after 2 years of just basically “letting it all hang out” (meaning – I have a James that loves champagne, foie gras, and all things lovely and fattening!) I am in a Biggest Loser contest. A few gals in my neighborhood and I decided that instead of spending the $ for Weight Watchers, etc., we would meet once a week, weigh in, and support each other on Facebook.

We each paid $100 – and we are paying it out 25% first month, 25%, and then 25% last month, with an extra 25% to the person who loses the biggest percentage overall. Each month, it “re-ratchets” so that anyone could win – your weigh at the beginning of the 2nd month (and the 3rd month) is your “zero.”

So, I won the first month! $225 to me – yay!! I have lost 7.46% of my body weight. My body fat since 1/5 has gone from 29.40% to 24.50%, my hydration from 50.10% to 54.60%, and my muscle from 34.30% to 37.30%.

I want to win the 2nd month, too! I am 1/2 way to where I want to be (weight at my wedding 2 years ago). And given that…time to get out and exercise!

 

Memories of World War I by Robinson Shepard (my Grandpa) – page 2

Posted on by Sandy

[continuation of my grandfather’s typewritten notes; see previous post for title page and page 1]

 

Some of the artillery, having been drafting, came by and got sore and they wrote to the Boston Herald and they printed it, that while we enlisted, wedid it to escape the draft, and so we could choose the Signal Corps, the “least dangerous” branch. A few days later our Major Fanning, who after the war was Chief of Operations at Filene’s station, had a letter printed in the Herald where he said “in response to the artillery” he had looked up on Company A and found that all but one were under 21 and that the “one” was over 30, so they wouldn’t have been drafted as the draft age was 21 to 30. Furthermore, the enlistee could choose his branch, and “these boys” chose the Signal Corps, the second most ~dangerous~ in the Army – the Engineers being the first, most dangerous. That statistics showed that the Signal Corps was eleven times more dangerous than the Artillery! That shut them up, but we had to take up the stones as it created bad feeling. I have a picture of those stones.

We practiced the semaphore and wigwag and had two sending sets. One on the end of a truck powered by the engine. It was an old white Truck and the transmission had an extra speed to turn the generator. The other was a hand generator which turned like a grind stone (very hard).

We were supposed to be mounted, and eventually the horses came, “direct from the West” as we were told. None of us, or very few, knew anything about horses, so everyone tried to pick a horse as lethargic looking as possible. As a matter of fact, T. W. Harris’ horse “Two Bits” stopped during a ride, lay down, and went to sleep. T.W. got off and I guess waited until the horse woke up. My horse “Pegasus” never did anything, but a slow walk, for which I was thankful, until one day two of us met a motorcycle. In spite of all we could do, our horses turned around, took after the motorcycle, and passed him. He later said he was going 25 miles per hour. The horses headed for the barn and when nearly there, made a right angle turn at full speed. I wasn’t ready for that so made only part of the turn and landed on a pile of ice. My companion, can’t remember who he was, wasn’t as fortunate. He stuck on until the horse entered the barn, when a beam over the door struck him full in the face and knocked him unconscious. No bones broken though.

One other horse incident. On Christmas Day 1917, I was on “stable duty” (detail) and had to see that no horse or mule was loose. Usually several were and they had to be tied up. I started to enter one stall and got kicked in the knee, doubling it backwards (I thought) but I landed in the opposite stall, the only empty one of the 36. I don’t like to think what would have happened had I landed in the stall of another horse.

That winter of 1917 was cold. Once I saw the thermometer 55 below zero. I have a picture of the boys wearing their overcoats and trying to keep warm near the “furnace” in the center of the barracks.

Introducing Feisty: The Bond Grrl College Correspondent

Posted on by Sandy

Hi, everyone! Sandy has generously allowed me to fill a niche in the reading audience: the college-bound Bond Grrl. College presents quite a few hazards for would-be Bond Grrls: cramped quarters, mediocre meals, and pressure to get good grades, be a party animal, and find your life purpose… all at the same time! But college also offers a host of opportunities: the independence of being on your own, the chance to find a passion, and the dynamic of a student body tens or hundreds of times bigger than your high school. There’s a lot of responsibility, but there’s also a lot of opportunity to shine.

I’m here to tell you the tricks I learned while getting my Bachelor’s and Master’s degrees. Sometimes I lived with my mom, sometimes I lived in a 1,000-person dorm in a different city. Sometimes I was single, sometimes I had a “James.” Through it all, I was a straight-A student, an executive in a student club, and a social butterfly. I tutored, wrote for a college paper, and hosted medieval feasts.

I’m here to show you how your college experience can be just as rich. I’ll teach you how to get stellar grades without pulling all-nighters. How to party without ending the night face-first in the toilet bowl. How to find a passion and surround yourself with like-minded friends. We’ll talk about lofty things like living your dreams and day-to-day stuff like dorm-room essentials.

In the end, I want to help you make your years at college be everything you want them to be.

 

Attention Bond Grrls “of a certain age”: 

Okay, maybe the last time you wrote a college exam the Berlin Wall was still standing and Friday night was disco fever. Don’t click away just yet! I bet you have a daughter, niece, or family friend who could use this advice. Consider passing it along, so she can have the college experience you did… or wish you did!

The Buffalo Principle….

Posted on by Sandy

{a joke we heard in a Sedona bar over the Holidays – my lord, I have a lot of notes to blog about!)

(First Guy) I drink because of the “Buffalo Principle.” You see, buffaloes travel in packs, and wolves take the slow and weak. This is how brain cells work.”

(Other Guy) How’s that?

(First Guy) Well, you see, alcohol is like the wolves. It only takes the slow and weak brain cells. So I only drink ‘for the good of the herd.’  Cheers!

🙂