Note: Since I’m on vacation, I’m giving you a rerun. This first appeared on June 3, 2015, back when I was new to blogging and had about 10 followers. It relates a childhood memory of mine that involved murder and explosives, as all good memories do. Also, the post includes a recipe because when I first started blogging, that was supposed to be my schtick. Then I forgot my schtick.
That’s the trouble with schticks. They only work if you remember them.
Oh well. Enjoy.
Growing up in the 70s was great. I’m not even talking about the movies and music from that era, although we had some darn fine ones.
Brother and I had it even better, as both Older Sisters and Older Brother were out of the house.
We’re talking complete lack of supervision, baby! Frankly, it’s a wonder we didn’t burn the whole place down.
Though we came close. Continue reading “My Glorious Summer of ’76”