Tidbits - February 1, 2018

TIDBITS by RALPH SHEALY



HOLE DIGGING MEMORIES

  Several years ago, my sister-in-law Allison Shealy’s father Steve Druley gave her a big bird feeder post when he moved to Florida.
  Since I’m the neighborhood bird feeder, Allison gave it to me.
  The post is nice. I has four hooks at various heights, so four feeders can be hung.
  It has a giant screw on the bottom, so you just screw it in the ground and hammer in the four spikes that come with it.
  At that time, I had four feeders, so I hung them on the feeder and enjoyed it for about a day.
  It didn’t take long for raccoons, deer and squirrels to enjoy it too.
  Wildlife destroyed all my feeders, and bent the post over, either by pulling down on the feeders are by climbing up the pole.
  I fought it for awhile by repairing the feeders and straightening the pole. I also surrounded the pole with wire that was used around tomato plants.
  Finally, I just gave up when the last feeder was beyond repair. I bought one new feeder and hung it on the leaning post.
  One day, I said over and over, I’m going to set that post in concrete.
  A few weeks ago, one of those enticing ads on Facebook popped up. You  know the ones. You want whatever it is until you click on the “Shop Now” button and find out how much it costs.
  This ad had a miracle post setting solution in a bag. When I hit “Shop Now,” I was delighted to see it was not that expensive.
  I’m leery of buying anything off these sites. I’ve heard of people ordering those popular “Fingerlings” over Christmas off a Facebook ad and never getting them.
  So, instead of ordering off the Face-book ad, I went to Amazon and found the product there.
  I arrived last week, and Saturday morning I set out to put my bird feeder in something unmovable ... or so the advertisement said.
  Before I could put the solution in a hole, I had to have a hole.
  In the shop was an old post hole digger. This was the one item from my youth on the farm that I hated more than hay hauling and cows.
  Before I dug the hole, I searched for my work gloves. I have, or should I say, had two pair.
  Now, let me explain, I store my gloves, work or dress,  in the same place all the time.
  I found a right handed blue glove and a left handed black glove. Somewhere, I have another pair just like it.
  I was not too proud to wear one blue glove and one black one, as long as they prevented the blisters that come with digging post holes.
  But, I only had one hole to dig and the clay was relatively soft from the recent rain.
  It took a picture of the hole diggers and posted it on Instagram and Facebook.
  I didn’t take me long to see post hole diggers are universally hated by everyone, male or female, who has ever used them.
  Ironically, Michael Crim, was using hole diggers at the same time, but he was digging holes in the sand of the Ridge area, a lot easier than clay.
  Back in the day, hole diggers were not used for one hole, they were used to put up a new fence line.
  Rarely was the ground soft, and you had to dig through roots and slate rock. Crying, nor cursing,  made the work go any easier.
  I weighed 130 lbs. when I graduated from high school, so you can imagine how much I weighed when I was digging post holes.
  The posts, usually home cut cedar logs, were put in the holes, clay was packed back in, then the fun part, putting up the barbed wire began.
  I’ve told you my late cousin Johnny Shealy loved building fences, and he’d tighten the wire so tight, you could play a tune. There was no climbing through Johnny’s fences without getting a barbed wire scar on your back.
  Digging that one hole Saturday morning, brought all that back.
  I got the hole deep enough, I got my miracle bag of stuff. The bag was partitioned.
  I was told to roll one end of the bag up until the seal to the other side of the bag was broken.
  I was then instructed to rub the top of the bag to mix the ingredients for 15 seconds. Any longer and the bag might explode!
  I cut the designated corner of the bag, sprinted to the hole and poured the ingredients in.
  It was only a few inches deep. Is that all it is?
  Suddenly, the liquid began to rise and spill out of the hole.
  It reminded of the volcano in Miss Emmie Walton’s chemistry class at Saluda High that scared Miss Emmie to death, but she made it erupt for her students anyway.
  The instructions said you could cut back the overflow, but I let it spill out over the spikes, feeling that would fortify even more.
  I was told to let the solution cure for two hours.
  In the ad for the solution, a rather large man jumps on the post and tries to make it give. I doesn’t, but we all know some commercials are rigged. I’ve got a few ‘holey’ cloth water hoses I’ll sell you real cheap.
  I did not jump on the post, but it is solidly set in the solution. I’ll let you know how it stands up in the days ahead.
  If it stays upright, I may buy some more feeders ... and we all know how that will turn out. Bear season...

WAVING

  As president of the Saluda High Class of 1969 for life, I have an email list to contact the classmates.
  A couple of the emails have bounced lately, so I contacted the members on Facebook to get the new emails.
  The thought then hit me, “Why don’t you create a Class of 69 group on Facebook Messenger?”
  That would pretty much take care of everyone.  I can send out emails and Facebook messages.
  So, I started compiling the list of names for the Facebook group.
  I didn’t know when I hit the “create group” button all the people in the group would be contacted!
  Sue Ratts Wright in Washington State was the first member of the class to “wave” at everyone.
  This started a whole rash of 66-year-old people waving back and forth to each other. There have been a few words exchanged, but mainly it’s waving. I waved, too.
  This has been going one for four days now!
  What have I done????

DANCIN’

  I’ve seen film clips of Dabo dancing to ad nauseam, but I never, ever thought I’d see a clip circulated on social media of Nick Saban dancing!
  But, that happened over the weekend.
  Nick was filmed line dancing while on a recruiting trip in L.A. and he danced well!
  I’m not going to play the old card, because Saban and I are the same age, and I’m a pretty good dancer, if I may say so myself.
  I just never pictured Saban as the dancing type. I saw him as the guy who takes up tickets, and stays in the chair all night.
  There’s a story that Steve Spurrier line danced when he was recruiting Marcus Lattimore. I can see Spurrier doing that, because he, like Dabo, has a personality.
  But Saban? You just never know!

CURTIS GANTT

  I was saddened to learn of the passing of Curtis “Lil Bit” Gantt on Sunday.
  He had reached the age of 98.
  Many will remember him for all the years he worked at the Piggly Wiggly. He always greeted you with a smile.
  He was a fine man who will be greatly missed.