I once wrote a rather large blog containing my autobiography called “Musings Of An Old Man”. I’ve since taken it down to make a fresh start of it.
This is that fresh start.
This is open to anyone and everyone interested in Eastern North Carolina life in the fifties and sixties on a small farm. I lived in a community aptly named Small. Not much imagination was put into that, I suppose. I have since learned that a man whose last name was Small is where the name came from.
If you find my grammar or English usage in general a horror to read, please overlook. I’m writing it like I think it. That was much the way we said things back then. Double negatives, mispronunciation of words were all a part of the smart, but largely uneducated people of the area at the time. There were schools, but the culture of the people overrode the “learning” of the day.
