One Pharmacist's View

The gloomy wet views out of my breakfast room windows promised to go away before Pat and I get in our car and drive up for a sumptuous Thanksgiving meal up in North Tulsa hosted by our granddaughter Lindsey.

Those of us who love our Friday night football have really felt loved this ongoing season. Our kids are well, our kids.

Yes, it was the first Halloween I spent in Stonewall and I wasn’t too sure just what it was. You see, I had been living in Centrahoma — a metro area totally void of any city streetlights.

To be or not to be. That was the question William Shakespeare posed once upon a time.

The Bullard family moved west on SH-3 from Centrahoma to Stonewall on October 19, 1944. At that time our family consisted of my parents, Cecil and Dora Bullard, my older brother Gerald, myself, Mana Sue and Linda Kay.

We all enjoy talking about obesity but now we have tired of it. As for my disgruntled readers who are tired of me writing about “fat” or “obese” please be assured that I have no malice toward fat people.

Driving the scenic Highway 1 between Ada and Allen a person passes through some nice and historic territory. The old Kullihoma Indian Reservation is here and there is a Historic Marker signifying the location where Chief Black Dog camped and hunted buffalo back in 1834.

I notice the governor of California is wanting his “Utopia” back. At least that’s what I think he said.

It was a busy day. The phone was alive with business and, as I glanced out over my store, I was pleased to see everyone was busy.

I was sharing with my wife last week that being old has many drawbacks. Your aches and pains don’t just come around once in awhile — they move in like a bunch of bad relatives — and stay.