Q. I've always wanted a John Deer. Seems best quality.
Answer
I just bought a John Deere D160 (26 hp with 48" cut) and I am VERY happy with it. Easy to operate, able to turn almost as sharp as a zero turn lots of useful features. Very good value for the money. I have never seen a Troy-Bilt Lawnmower but I know the tillers are very good.
I just bought a John Deere D160 (26 hp with 48" cut) and I am VERY happy with it. Easy to operate, able to turn almost as sharp as a zero turn lots of useful features. Very good value for the money. I have never seen a Troy-Bilt Lawnmower but I know the tillers are very good.
Do you have an object present during your childhood you keep for its sentimental value?
Troy
If so, what is it and what do you associate with it?
Have you or will you inherit a family heirloom or sentimental artifact which has been for more than two generations in your family? If so, what is it? How old is it?
Answer
Between my baby face and plethora of childhood mementos that one would think I never actually grew up...
Probably true.
Bear - My stuffed bear, named Bear. I've had him since birth, a gift from my aunt. At around the age of two when I began talking (nonstop, to my parent's annoyance) I called him Bear. When my parents asked me what his name was, I replied Bear. When they acknowledged that my stuffed animal was a bear, but wanted to know his name, I insisted, Bear. Trust me, his name is Bear.
I associate him with comfort. He's a frequent guest at sleepovers and college road trips. My dad had tried telling me that state schools check all freshman for stuffed animals and burn them, but that's my dad for ya'. Bear is coming with me to college; I couldn't do this next chapter alone, and it's nice to have someone to wrap my arms at night when I'm all alone, even though he's inanimate and if he were real, he'd probably be angry at me for putting baby powder in his eyes when I was two.
Nutcracker - My parents had a VHS recording of the ABT's The Nutcracker with Mikhail Baryshnikov and Gelsey Kirkland. I loved it. I mean, I really -LOVED- it. I had my own tutus and my own CD of the music; I'd force my younger brother to dress up as Drosselmeyer (his costume consisted of a blanket and purple mask) and dance around; my father would often step in as Nutcracker Prince, but even if no one was there to dance with me, my imagination would conjure everything up, in fact I preferred to dance it alone. The only thing missing, was an actual Nutcracker.
My parents, being thrifty, made me one from a slab of wood. My mom was really crafty, and drew a really cute nutcracker on it. I loved it. But it wasn't completely right. Not only was I a five year old obsessed with The Nutcracker, but I was also a five year old obsessed with frogs. My mother snuck it from me in the middle of night, had to wretch it from my hands (yes, I slept with a wooden board, and Bear.) and that morning when I woke up, there was a frog, right in it's pocket! It was the perfect nutcracker! I associate all those warm feelings about the Nutcracker, my secret desire to dance ballet (not so secret now that it's on the internet, haha!), my love of Gelsey Kirkland (who became a personal hero for me when I was struggling with depression), and well, lots of other fond memories.
As for family heirlooms, there are quite a few, though with three other siblings, it's a mystery as to who will inherit what. There are my grandmother's rings, an antique desk engraved with some mystery relative's initials with brass numbers, antique silverware, and goodness, there's lots. One thing which I can't inherit, though I so very much wish I could, was my grandfather's house, which he sold. It was huge, with plenty of pachysandra (my name is Cassandra, so I thought I was named after this plant my grandfather had growing everywhere - pa-Cassandra!), a wide expanse of yard for a slip-n-slide, a garden enclosed with a quaint rustic fence and inside had garden candy - snap peas, a homemade playhouse named "The Wee House" hand built by my grandfather, a large lake leading into a stream where forts were made, charming places like "Berry Bridge" (bridge built over a raspberry patch) "Antique Aisle" (shady enclosure with rusty antique tools and machines) "Dead Man's Hill" (steep hill leading to the lake that you literally ran down because the momentum of your body just couldn't be stopped!), and "Rough Waters" (name of a pretend town built by my cousin and I by the spillway), and free train rides on a train built by my grandfather from a lawnmower. Yup, it was heaven on earth, and he sold it. Gosh I miss it.
Well, that's my childhood as seen through different trinkets and heirlooms. I know I developed a bit of a bitter tone towards the end, but I suppose all good things must come to an end and things change, whether for better or worse, they change. My grandfather selling the house marked the end of my idyllic childhood, which was really only marred by my ferocious two-year old temper tantrums... and eleven year old temper tantrums. But these are memories, happy memories I keep in the recesses of the mind. Thanks for giving me the chance to revisit them. :-)
Between my baby face and plethora of childhood mementos that one would think I never actually grew up...
Probably true.
Bear - My stuffed bear, named Bear. I've had him since birth, a gift from my aunt. At around the age of two when I began talking (nonstop, to my parent's annoyance) I called him Bear. When my parents asked me what his name was, I replied Bear. When they acknowledged that my stuffed animal was a bear, but wanted to know his name, I insisted, Bear. Trust me, his name is Bear.
I associate him with comfort. He's a frequent guest at sleepovers and college road trips. My dad had tried telling me that state schools check all freshman for stuffed animals and burn them, but that's my dad for ya'. Bear is coming with me to college; I couldn't do this next chapter alone, and it's nice to have someone to wrap my arms at night when I'm all alone, even though he's inanimate and if he were real, he'd probably be angry at me for putting baby powder in his eyes when I was two.
Nutcracker - My parents had a VHS recording of the ABT's The Nutcracker with Mikhail Baryshnikov and Gelsey Kirkland. I loved it. I mean, I really -LOVED- it. I had my own tutus and my own CD of the music; I'd force my younger brother to dress up as Drosselmeyer (his costume consisted of a blanket and purple mask) and dance around; my father would often step in as Nutcracker Prince, but even if no one was there to dance with me, my imagination would conjure everything up, in fact I preferred to dance it alone. The only thing missing, was an actual Nutcracker.
My parents, being thrifty, made me one from a slab of wood. My mom was really crafty, and drew a really cute nutcracker on it. I loved it. But it wasn't completely right. Not only was I a five year old obsessed with The Nutcracker, but I was also a five year old obsessed with frogs. My mother snuck it from me in the middle of night, had to wretch it from my hands (yes, I slept with a wooden board, and Bear.) and that morning when I woke up, there was a frog, right in it's pocket! It was the perfect nutcracker! I associate all those warm feelings about the Nutcracker, my secret desire to dance ballet (not so secret now that it's on the internet, haha!), my love of Gelsey Kirkland (who became a personal hero for me when I was struggling with depression), and well, lots of other fond memories.
As for family heirlooms, there are quite a few, though with three other siblings, it's a mystery as to who will inherit what. There are my grandmother's rings, an antique desk engraved with some mystery relative's initials with brass numbers, antique silverware, and goodness, there's lots. One thing which I can't inherit, though I so very much wish I could, was my grandfather's house, which he sold. It was huge, with plenty of pachysandra (my name is Cassandra, so I thought I was named after this plant my grandfather had growing everywhere - pa-Cassandra!), a wide expanse of yard for a slip-n-slide, a garden enclosed with a quaint rustic fence and inside had garden candy - snap peas, a homemade playhouse named "The Wee House" hand built by my grandfather, a large lake leading into a stream where forts were made, charming places like "Berry Bridge" (bridge built over a raspberry patch) "Antique Aisle" (shady enclosure with rusty antique tools and machines) "Dead Man's Hill" (steep hill leading to the lake that you literally ran down because the momentum of your body just couldn't be stopped!), and "Rough Waters" (name of a pretend town built by my cousin and I by the spillway), and free train rides on a train built by my grandfather from a lawnmower. Yup, it was heaven on earth, and he sold it. Gosh I miss it.
Well, that's my childhood as seen through different trinkets and heirlooms. I know I developed a bit of a bitter tone towards the end, but I suppose all good things must come to an end and things change, whether for better or worse, they change. My grandfather selling the house marked the end of my idyllic childhood, which was really only marred by my ferocious two-year old temper tantrums... and eleven year old temper tantrums. But these are memories, happy memories I keep in the recesses of the mind. Thanks for giving me the chance to revisit them. :-)
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