Originally Posted by Mad Cook
As for the visiting GIs in WWII - as they used to say in Britain "Over-paid, over-sexed and over here!"
According to my mother even just dancing
too often with GIs was enough to get you a bad name! A favourite gift to a British girlfriend from a GI was a pair of stockings (virtually unavailable even with coupons here) But American stockings were seamless so when you wore them every one knew where they came from and
they thought they knew what you had to do to get them!!! (you young 'uns use your imagination
When going stocking-less it was usual to get your mother, sister or a friend to draw a line down the back of your calf with an eye-brow pencil to simulate the non-existent seam.
Americans were very polite and called you "Ma'am" when they asked you to dance she said. She was always terrified she would stand up for a slow foxtrot and end up doing this instead
Where did you find your man from Cockermouth, Addie?
He was a Merchant Marine and was seriously injured on the ship. Our Coast Guard air lifted him and brought him to our Marine Hospital here in Boston. He was in the hospital for almost a year and when released had to stay for further treatment. He had part of his bottom jaw replaced with metal. My parents met him and kind of took him under their wing.
I am just old enough to very well remember that music of the big bands. I used to kill myself dancing to it. Today I am just lucky enough to be able to tap my good foot. My oldest daughter wanted me to teach her when she was a teenager. But by then my bones just weren't as nimble as they used to be.
Rosie has little side brushes that stick out and spin as she runs along the wall edges and into corners. We ran her last night when Spike was here with Teddy. I wish I had thought to pick up the camera to film Teddy's reaction. He first heard the motor and got up to investigate. When Rosie came out of the closet toward him he stopped in his tracks and then looked to Spike and me to protect him. The two of us were useless. We were laughing too hard to help poor Teddy. He jumped up on my bed. Our poor little protector finally started to follow behind it barking at it. If it turned around and started toward him, he ran back for the security of my bed. The final insult though was when Rosie ran over his little mat that I put down for him a while ago. It is just an old bathroom rug I had. That is when he decided to attack Rosie. I had to shut her off and put her back in the closet which is her home.