Prune picker

Prune picker is a Depression Era term for a native Californian. It was not a complement. In the thirties when I was a boy there were times that I was the only prune picker in a group. Everyone else had been born somewhere else.

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Tuesday, April 20, 2010

Breakfast at the VFW.

EveryTuesday morning I have breakfast at the VFW in Ruston. The Post Commander J P Harper does the cooking. He is the bearded gentleman in the picture. The attendance varies from 8 to 12. I really enjoy the weekly visit with the nice people who attend. I hear many interesting tales of local history. Two of the gentlemen have been neighbors on Cooktown Road for 60 years.  One of them told me that they have never had a cross word.

We have a great feed and the price is right. $1 unless funds are running low and then it is $2. We meet for lunch on the second Thursday. I will blog on our next lunch meeting.

1 comment:

  1. Wanna hear something stupid?

    (just say yes)

    I'm about to turn 50 years old. And have never tasted prime rib.

    My parents ended their fulltime RVing on the Alabama Gulf Coast (AKA LA). According to Daddy, their local VFW serves a prime rib meal every Tuesday night for ten dollars a plate. I intend to visit around my 50th birthday and hint-hint about trying the VFW's prime rib. Although we gave up doing birthday gifts long ago, I suspect they'll treat.


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