As I’ve told you several times recently, I just don’t feel good at all. It seems to get a little worse every day.

It seems there are so many things I get involved in that I really don’t have any control over at all, but I’m anxious to get back to my new endeavor at NHC.

Kay and I just got in from our “farewell” visit to meet with the assisted living group at NHC in Farragut.

Here we go again with a big meal.

Back in the good old days of maybe 80 or 90 years ago, every mama handmade most all Christmas decorations and rejoiced in being able to do so.

I’ve told you before about the hoboes who used to camp out at the big culvert under the railroad just a couple of hundred feet east of Bob’s house. In the summer there would sometimes be 20 or 25 hoboes living there.

It seems this season of the year is turning out to be the busiest of all.

Claude McConkey had his delivery truck almost full of groceries to be delivered from Fred Weaver’s store when he would tell me to hop in.

It seems these days it takes a lot longer to remember the things that happened years ago.

Let’s see if you can remember anything about Halloween when we were kids.

There seems to be more and more new things to remind me of our old days.

Like I told you recently, Kay’s cousin, Maybelle, no longer raises hogs, so I asked you to let me know where I could get some firsthand information concerning the making of cracklins.

I ain’t no cook and I can prove it by asking anyone in my family, but I try on some things.

Where in heaven’s name did I get a copy of our Lenoir City High School annual dated 1917?

We talk for at least 10 minutes before John Henry coughs several times to get our attention and starts our Sunday school lesson.

See if this jogs a memory or two for you as we go back about 72 years and talk about some of the “advertisers” in our old high school annual.

I’ve written about the carnivals and all the circuses coming into town and even had a few lines about the hobo “jungle” where the guys who hopped on board the freight trains camped out at the big culvert under the rail tracks down about E Street.

Let’s see if I can come up with another column about the old days.

The weather forecast recently showed temperatures getting into the mid and upper 90s.

When I watched the morning news June 25, I noticed at the bottom of the screen the next subject on the newscast was “Loudon County Earthquake.” Well, when its time came up there was not one word mentioned about our county.

I need to tell you more old time stories of how we lived and some of the things we did back then. Maybe it will bring back to you a few good memories and you can tell your grandkids about those. I know for a fact they would love to hear those.

Jim “Dub” Lee and I are in the same Sunday school class where we enjoy the excellent teaching of John Henry McNabb.

This should have been an additional part to last week’s column of my talk with Ted Deford, but I called him back too late for that, so here it is today.

Ted DeFord wrote some mighty fine articles for the old Lenoir City News.

In my last column, I wondered why there weren’t as many people placing flowers on graves as before. I used to help mama decorate the graves of her deceased family members.

Kay invited me to eat lunch with the group of ladies retired from Loudon’s Viskase plant who choose to call themselves The Golden Girls. There are only eight of them still active and all but one was able to attend.

As readers probably can tell, it’s getting more and more difficult to think of something about my good old days that I ain’t already told you.

For the past few days, I’ve been feeling very bad and I’ve been to the doctor for a checkup.

Daddy bought our first radio back in the early 1930s. It was a big, tall console Grunow brand.

Local TV weatherman Todd Howell called the first week of April a Dogwood Winter.

Let’s continue thinking about our good old days by talking about the old Lenoir Car Works where so many of our daddies worked.

I have rewritten twice already an article concerning my meeting a lady in Ingles, what that lady said and my telling about it at the assisted living group up at NHC where Kay and I go once a month to meet with them and talk about everyone’s good old days.

What else can I tell you about the good old days? If you are “one of those” who read these articles in the News-Herald, then you already know there ain’t a lot left that I ain’t told you about already that took place back in the “good old days” when we were growing up.

It just seems there are more and more things going on today than ever before. I can’t seem to get all my “ducks in a row” anymore and I do not know why.

I want to tell you things about those good old days we had and why everyone around my age feels the same way about those days that I do.

I have topped having more than 400 of these articles printed and yet there seems to be more and more of them remaining to tell you about what happened “back in those good old days.” My first was printed in May 2008. Can you believe I’ve been at this for nearly nine years?

I ain’t sure, but I’m thinking I tried to write this story back a couple of days ago but I can’t find it on this stupid computer. I tried to tell you about the nice Cajun lady known to me only as “Cat Daddy’s Mama.” I have never met her face to face.

Sitting out here on my front porch in the warm sunshine — even in early February — makes me think of all those good old days way back then.

We boys never missed an out-of-town event we wanted to attend. We found if we stood alongside the highway and waved our closed hand with only the thumb extended up, there would soon be a motorist stop and ask if we wanted a ride.

We boys were always thinking about what else we could be doing, or maybe what kind of game we could be playing.

It certainly seems no matter what race, creed or color your ancestry, you must have a traditional food for New Year’s Day to assure you’re having good health and to prosper during the new year.