Southern Rumors

2012-01-17T04:07:00.000-08:00

The bottom photo is a close-up of "Chewy." The top one is an image I borrowed from the web of a supposed Blue Tick Hound/Beagle mix puppy. Chewy's muzzle is not as "boxed" or "square" looking and her ears are certainly shorter than the other pups but other than that, she is spot on with her body and leg markings. I don't see any representation of an Aussie Cattle Dog in her. She already weighs more and is longer and higher than our Vet's expectations and predictions.

Yesterday I noticed that one of her razor-sharp baby fangs had come out and the smaller teeth both top and bottom look like a set of new human dentures. They are so white and perfectly matched. I believe our little girl is growing up quicker than anyone expected.

Our back yard (her playground and toilet) is a muddy marsh. We had some snow a few day back and then yesterday it got up to the mid fifties and everything that was frozen melted including an inch or so of the frozen soil. Those are the ingredients for a mess when an overly energized young adult Coon Hound mix gets out with her friends next door and have constant foot races and wallowing matches. I do not know what our neighbors do with three muddy dogs at once. I tried to wipe Chewy off but soon realized it was a losing battle. Two or three towels could not have gotten her clean. So ... Maureen and I took her into our bathroom and placed her in the tub, giving her a long needed bath. So much hair came off with the dirt, it stopped up the drain, requiring constant removal to prevent an accumulation of dirty, soapy water. As it was, she left a whale of a bathtub ring after we were done.

Why is it that dogs go crazy right after a bath? We kept the bathroom door closed until we gave her a cursory towel down and soaked up the majority of the water. When we did all we could and opened the door, she ran out and went crazy. It was some time before she quieted down enough to give her another rub down with another towel. Maureen ended up with back problems before we were done. She stayed bent over the tub longer than her back could bear it and it too went wild. She confessed, that had never happened to her before. I believe age is getting to us both.

It continues to rain heavily here. The rain runoff has moved some of the muddy build-up along the fence perimeter down into the lower area we have fenced off to keep Chewy out from behind the shed. That helped but there is no getting away from mud this time of year, no matter how thick one's grass is. I ordered myself some Mudrucker slip-on, water-proof shoes and a shoe cleaning brush assembly I'll use to clean the Mudruckers next spring when the monsoons move in, as they always do. I'll need to mount the brush contraption onto something stable, so I can stand on it while forcing the shoes back and forth through it. It's like one of those brushes golf courses us at the clubhouse entrances. Now ... if we only had a mud room to let Chewy into before she is allowed into the house. A guy can dream, can't he?

Maid of Mayhem - No ones BFF

2011-12-29T10:13:00.000-08:00

She's usually the perfect pet during the nighttime. She has matured enough now to only need to go outside once each night and then, it's a quick squat to pee, a meandering tour around her yards' boundary and then, back to the door rapidly as if something is chasing her. It's a good thing I'm there to open it on her approach or who knows what horrid end she may come to.

We three adult, humans are learning, slowly, but learning. Tooth and claw is a good teacher, much as life has always been for us. Yet, last evening I had to take Gail over to an Urgent Care Center in Independence to stitch up the gash resulting from a playful encounter with Chewy's still razor- sharp puppy teeth while Gail chased her up the stairs trying to retrieve a shoe that has become Chewy's favorite item to steal and run with. I took a look at it before we decided it needed professional medical treatment and estimated three or four stitches would be needed to close it up again. I may be wrong; but I doubt it. It's a caption on one T-shirt Kellie gave me for Christmas. It fits me to a "T" pun intended. Three stitches is what it took, plus a Tetnus shot, a prescription for an antibiotic and a request for a recheck today out of caution related to the fact that the gash came from a dog's tooth.

Chewy has experienced two sessions of crate confinement today, one while Maureen took down the Christmas tree and decorations and stored them again till the next time and once more while I went over the kitchen floor with a damp mop to remove most of the muddy paw prints accumulated since yesterday. It's impossible to accomplish any chore that requires a fast moving object at floor level if Chewy is present. It's all a wonderful game to her. We purchased one of those as seen on TV magic rugs that claims to capture all moisture and mud or grime instantly. It has the potential to work that way if it could be place outside in the varying precipitation, which would afford the most contact length as she waits to be let back inside each time. As it is, she hates to have her feet wiped or be toweled off after being out in the rain. She has had no contact with snow yet this year, so we have something to look forward to soon. I wonder what new set of problems snow will generate for the household?

We are in the midst of rearranging living-room furniture. I wish you could have seen Chewy's reaction as she got her first glimpse of all the changes that had taken place so far. You could see the bewilderment on her face. It seemed to ask, "What is going on here?" Only a blind person could have been more confused in that situation. My imagination is working overtime conjuring up various scenarios as a result. What a joy it would have been to have witnessed her dashing down the stairs with some contraband she had swiped, leaping up into the air to land on a sofa that is no longer there and imagining her crashing into the wall that is behind where the sofa had been before. Is that wrong of me? Oh Well! So be it. She needs to suffer unexpected consequences due to her behavior now and then. How is she going to learn otherwise? We haven't been able to teach her anything so far. It's true, you know. An Old Dog has no chance of teaching a hard headed pup any new tricks.

Honestly, we are shocked at how fast and how large Chewy has grown in six weeks or so. She seems twice as long and twice as tall as she was when she first arrived here.

I've got to put that new video camera to work, capturing her herding behavior, her heel nipping techniques and how she goes about teaching stupid human tricks to stupid humans.

Chewy's not all bad. There are some beautiful aspects of her character and personality and of her physical appearance. Her profile is perfect for her breed. Long, square muzzle, closely set, beady little eyes ... Ha-Ha, I am joking of course. Her ears hang perfectly, her coat is thick and silky to the touch but one must be careful how and when they do the touching. She is quick to admonish the uninvited digit in forbidden areas. It's difficult to learn exactly where all the forbidden areas of her body are. I believe they keep changing as she ages. It less risky to only touch her when absolutely necessary.

2011-12-20T08:21:00.000-08:00

I believe it was Fred First's admission that there was once a time that he had considered returning Tsunga to the breeders he had gotten him from that caused me to realize Chewy wasn't all that different or worse than any other puppy. All she needed was some more time and understanding from us. Patience Clarence ... Patience!

It may be premature to state that I've begun to notice some calming and better behavior in our little darling but I actually do believe it's taking place. I suppose it compares to being charged by a lion, only to discover that all it wanted to do was get acquainted with you and lick some exposed skin, not rip you limb from limb. Perhaps if Chewy could manage a sound like a purr when she's in that mood, then I wouldn't cringe and adopt a defensive posture as I normally do when she gets playful. Torn flesh and ripped skin takes a while to heal over when you reach my age. It's not easy to alter one's fears once a relationship has been established between man and beast and their interaction has been a painful and bloody one.

So, there is hope on the horizon. We will see how it goes from here on.

A very Merry Christmas to all youse guys and gals

2011-12-11T12:52:00.000-08:00

Chewy wanted to wish everyone a Merry Christmas while she was dressed for it.

A DOG OWNER'S - SLAVE'S - CARE PROVIDER'S - STUDENT'S CONFESSIONS

2011-12-09T10:00:00.001-08:00

I believe our greatest difficultly when it comes to our new puppy (hereafter referred to as "CHEWY") is that our first puppy was such a godsend to us. We've said it many times since Jenny left us. "Jenny was a PERFECT puppy and an even better dog as an adult." Yes! Jenny was comparable to a bottle of fine wine. She only got better with age. We only wished that she could have aged for a few more years than she did. Nine years certainly was not enough time to share with us.

And now I found out that a friend of mine, another Blogger I had the privilege of getting to know via email and reading his wonderful Blog for years now, has suffered the same fate as us. He lost his beloved Tsunga. One difference between us and his family is that they have had and lost several other Labradors.

I was right there with Fred First when he brought Tsunga home. I watched and read all that Fred shared with us in print and photos. Tsunga was such a beautiful creature, in my opinion. Now, I look forward to looking on as Fred searches for a new friend to share his life with. I came right out and told him not to consider an Aussie Cattle Dog as a replacement. Well, I tweeted it to him anyway. That's the same as saying it in a face to face ... right? I just know that Fred is going to come up with something, some final words related to his life with Tsunga that I and the rest of the animal lovers out there wouldn't want to miss it. So, click on this active link to find him and his blog and then bookmark it for future access. I know you will be glad that you did.

Now, I feel a twinge of guilt for my warning. It's not Chewy's fault that she is as she is. It's me! I just know that I'm messing up what could have been a great dog.

I have acquired a moderate dislike for Caesar Milan, The Dog Whisperer of TV renown. What's so special about him? How did he acquire all that knowledge about dogs? Do they teach that stuff in college? I suppose I could have chosen a similar path for myself but how was I to know it was such a lucrative choice as a career? Don't get me wrong. Mr. Milan is a genius when it comes to understanding and training dogs. But, does he have to make it appear so easy?

Perhaps I am rushing to judgment and only adding to my shortcomings. Hey! It may well be that Chewy will mature and flower into a perfect adult dog too. All I must do is stick it out and wait to see what happens in another year or so. Chewy won't understand when I say "I'm sorry" for all the mistakes I've made in the past. Apologizing won't make a nickels worth of difference. I have prayed for guidance but so far, I don't feel led in the right direction.

Watch this web page. I know there will be other confessions to follow. I've got to unload my growing burden as it gets to the breaking point or I'll surely be crushed by the weight.

Precious time

2011-10-14T14:59:00.000-07:00

In today's business world, TIME is one commodity whose value has risen off the chart. Supply and demand still applies here. Employees have the supply, and employers demand it from them. Even though companies demand the most valuable item you possess, they are not willing to pay the going price. They are leverage buyers and expect a bargain from you.

Frustration results when an employee wants to hold on to the personal, free time they have remaining during a normal workday, but the employers demands more and more of it.

When your workday begins at 4:30 AM and drags on for nine or ten hours, and those hours are packed with pressure, stress and personality conflicts, power struggles, office politics, company-union negotiations over grievances and contract disputes, production deadlines and such, and then you must fight grid-lock, stop and go traffic, short tempered motorists and those demonic orange barrels, you pull into the garage, close the door and just sit there in the dim light and quiet solitude, trying to unwind enough, so as not to be a threat to your family when you enter the house.

Words like success and career lose their meaning at times. Our bodies, minds, and emotions break down under such circumstances. We are more familiar with terms like hopelessness and desperation.

Those who are unable to cope with the mounting pressure and stress, we come to know as social dropouts, homeless, unemployed, mentally ill or deceased. Is it any wonder we are witness to shootings on expressways, fisticuffs after fender-benders and senseless, multiple murders in the work place?

Frustration and work anxiety can not explain the violence we read about in our newspapers which has been perpetrated by John Doe, normal, good citizen. There is much more involved than that simple explanation. The American Dream has become a nightmare, and if some solution is not found soon, the days ahead will only grow more threatening to the continued existence of the world, as we know it.

A Hunters Story

2011-10-09T12:33:00.000-07:00

"I AM THE HUNTER!" I've heard that statement repeated in my mind countless times. It usually came into my head at the very beginning of a weekend adventure. I could almost imagine myself dressed in Buckskin and moccasins, my head covered by a Coonskin Cap, trusty, muzzle loading, Kentucky Squirrel Rifle in hand, standing straddle-legged atop a brush covered hill, proud, self sufficient and strong.
Piercing, dark eyes scanning my domain, senses sharp and alert, I would test the wind direction, process all the input born of experienced observations and strike out in a direction of travel which was most likely to bring success to the hunt.
Startled back to reality by the noise of a flushed, meadowlark, which I had surprised, truth came to visit and put me in my place. I was the modern-day version of my previous, mental image. Still, I did possess the same primitive instincts and drive of my predecessors. I could feel the influence of their pioneer spirit and my whole body seemed to tingle. I denied the possibility of that tingle being the shiver brought on by the chill of the crisp, morning air penetrating the layers of warm flannel and cotton clothing I wore.
I understood that the man of today is a much different creature than, let's say 50 to 100 years ago. He is usually more fragile, both physically and emotionally. A softer natured individual, due mainly to the comfortable surroundings he was reared in. Artificial climates, either cooled or warmed by the latest in technological advances, filtered atmospheres to breath and comfortable beds to rest in.
There is no need for man to depend upon his own abilities for survival. He buys what he needs to sustain him. If he is threatened at all, it is not by exposure to the elements or the predatory, wild creatures of woodland or field. He is the supreme predator with total dominion over his surroundings. Most of what he needs is there, within easy reach. He does not know the day to day struggle to survive as his ancestors did. So, why does man go out of his way to encounter nature?
I am 71 years old. Born in a sharecropper’s hovel located on a farm in Portland, Kentucky in October of 1940. Delivered, they tell me, by a country Doctor and local Mid-wife. The third child and first son of what would come to be a family with nine children, 5 girls and 4 boys. "Sturdy Stock" was about the best our Father could come up with in an attempt to describe our roots and lineage while telling us one of his home-spun tales. Lacking formal education, Dad and Mom were still very successful at passing on to us, the family's heritage.

Mountain people we were, predominantly Irish and Cherokee Indian by blood. Our family tree had many branches, introducing English and German blood into the mix. It was difficult for me to comprehend the influences that those roots brought to bear upon my own composition as a person. I lived my life by reacting to drives and impulses from within, giving no consideration to their origins.
My earliest memories go back to a time when I was around 5 years old. The pain caused me by a smallpox vaccination at the hand of a Doctor who made house calls was my first. Anything before that was only dim scraps of images, fragments of time and cognition. I was told that our family moved to "The Big City", Newport, Kentucky when I was little more than two years old.
Since I am writing about hunting here, I focused my efforts toward memories of events that involved the out-of-doors and nature. I have always been attracted by anything alive which was able to move and I have always loved being outside in the open air. It mattered not what the weather was like. The more skin I had exposed to the elements, the better I liked it. Possibly, I would have made a good "Nudist" during those days of my youth. A bath in a bathtub was undeserved torture, but a soaking, summer thunderstorm was a joy to experience, especially if I was out in it, drenched head to toe.
The chill of a winter's day was of little concern to me. No coat and a short-sleeved shirt were more than enough protection as I walked the three city blocks to school and back. There was a furnace inside me, fueled by youthful enthusiasm and energy that seemed boundless.
There was always some new discovery to hold my interest. An animal or insect I had never seen before. I remember picking up a grasshopper and studying it intently. I watched as its mouth parts moved ceaselessly, and I thought I saw my own reflection reproduced hundreds of times in its great, faceted eye lenses. I took note of how its body was constructed. A bony-hard, segmented assembly of intricate forms and shapes, joints with hidden hinges, over-sized, spurred hind legs which provided it with the ability to leap great distances. Wing casings that made an excellent place to grasp and hold it during the examination.
Then, I remembered someone saying, "If you capture a grasshopper, make it "Spit" before you release it." I held its mouth to the palm of my hand and the grasshopper obliged by depositing a small drop of what looked like, tobacco juice on it. So, as instructed, I did my part and let it go, unharmed. Still, I couldn't help but wonder, what was it about this small creature which allowed it know what was required of it in this unwritten agreement? To spit on command to receive its freedom. I was never satisfied with other people's explanations of why animals and insects did what they did, so any time I got a chance, I would read what I could find in books concerning them.
I don't recall the first time I took the life of some smaller creature. I don't know if I felt remorse about it either. More than likely though, it was a senseless killing, like stepping on a bug that I saw on the ground. Perhaps I was angry and upset about something that didn’t go my way, so I vented my wrath on it. One thing is for sure, at some time in my young life, I killed a lesser creature and over time, developed a mental attitude about doing so, which would justify the act. Without that kind of mind set, it would be impossible for anyone to hunt down and kill any animal.
My Father loved the out-of-doors too. Over the years, he was responsible for my first introduction to many male traditions and cultural rites that brought me to maturity with respect to hunting.
Yes! I remember the specifics of some of those experiences. He resorted to threatening me with a switch when I balked at participating in some activity that he considered necessary to my continued growth toward manhood.
There are wild creatures that have the ability to strike fear in the heart of inexperienced youth. A water snake, a snapping turtle, a crawfish, and a hellgrammite with its great pincher like mandibles and razor sharp hooks on its tail. It was able to injure a finger with either end. But there were techniques and methods one could be taught which made it possible to pick up and handle such creatures, it was only necessary to be brave and overcome one's fear. It was necessary to learn which ones were bluffing and which one were serious. Some creatures were pretenders, projecting a threat of harm but unable to inflict pain, while others were calm and gave no indication of their true potential, until it was too late and a novice adventurer learned this lesson, the hard way.
"Once bitten, shame on you; twice bitten, shame on me" my Father used to say. He had hundreds of those kinds of sayings to pass on. "Let a sleeping dog lie" he said. It was a lesson I learned quickly. Size didn't matter either. A small, nasty tempered lap dog could rip a finger with needle like teeth if you interrupted his nap. It didn't take long to learn that many creatures will defend themselves when threatened. "Nothing is more fierce than a cornered animal,” Dad said and I took it at face value. He didn't need to prove it to me.
For many years, it was just Dad and I. I was his only male offspring. There were five females and myself for a period of time before another son was born into the family. So, of course, I was the focal point for much of what he had to pass on to his children. We fished and hunted, repaired the car and fixed whatever needed fixing around the house.
But, it was our time together in the out-of-doors that came to mean the most to me. I was his shadow on weekends, never letting him out of my sight, lest he went out on an adventure without me. I couldn't accept that there were situations when my presence was an undesirable factor. He had adult friends and comrades, men he did more grown-up things with, Coon hunting and the like and then there were those times when he and they would get drunk and do man things which I could not share in. I could hardly wait to grow up.
I believe my own individual character as a hunter developed during the time we lived on a farm out in Indiana. I was a teenager then, on the verge of becoming an adult, eager to do things on my own, to put into practice, all which my Father had taught me. In his absence, I was "The Man around the House". He charged me with that responsibility one day as he prepared to leave in search of a job. From that day on, I automatically assumed the roll at any time he was not around. It was a serious responsibility, one I didn't take lightly. The world was filled with danger and implied threats. Snakes, spiders, lizards or who knows what kind of stinging insects could invade the house and what would those helpless women do if I weren't around to save them?
Dad was laid off from his job at the Lakeland Steel Plant and the only income we had was his unemployment, and that wasn't much. He supplemented that with money he earned doing odd jobs for others in the area. Trying to help where I could, I took to cutting cordwood.
I invested some of my income on better tools. A modern Bow saw and a new double bladed ax. My production increased and so did my income. Soon, Dad found a job as a service station attendant on the night shift. My responsibilities as the Man of the House increased with that development. I was in charge for five nights of the week and while he slept during the daytime.
There was plenty of opportunity to observe and learn as I went about doing my chores. There was a natural spring just a short distance from the front door of our house. On wash day, it was my job to build a fire under the tub outside and fill it with water. After my chores were done, I would spend hours watching the events that took place at that spring. Water Striders, like miniature, out-rigger canoes, would glide across the surface tension of the water. Whirligig Beetles would make endless circles in one area for a while and then streak off to some other, more interesting part of the spring only to continue where they had left off before.
The purpose of those aquatic acrobats was a complete mystery to me. Why did they do what they did and what was the purpose for their existence? Mud-daubers would come to the spring to get materials for building their nests. Their tails were constantly moving in an up and down bobbing motion, while they used their heads like tiny Bulldozers, pushing and working the mud until it was the perfect consistency. I often wondered what power gave them the ability to make such a judgement?
Then they would form the mud into a ball that was much too large for them to fly with, I thought, but fly they did and I was always amazed by their strength and flying skills. I've ran after them, following to their construction site, where they worked that soft mud into the free hand shape of what would soon be the future home of their offspring and storage space for the countless, stunned spiders which would feed them.
Small Frogs made that spring their home too. They had chosen a good place to live. There was plenty of food in the form of insects that visited the pool for any number of reasons. There were hundreds of "Wigglers" I called them, in the water. They would hang suspended, just below the surface, with their little snorkel tubes reaching up through the surface to the vital air above. A Water Strider would come gliding by, touch one of their snorkels and it would send them into a wriggling frenzy, darting down and sideways to escape some phantom predator.
An air rifle is a weapon of low muzzle velocity, it has very little power at a distance, but close up, it is an effective weapon for small animals and it furnished many a meal for us when other kinds of meat were not to be had. There are groups of people today, who resent men that hunt. They believe that all hunters kill animals for the sake of killing and leave them lay where they fall. I will be the first to admit; there are such men involved in this activity. I try not to call hunting "A Sport."
The Dictionary gives a very lengthy group of definitions for the word "Sport", none of them pertaining to hunting. That fact seems to back me up in my opinion on the matter. What I did find was the word "Sportsman". It is defined as "One who pursues field sports, especially hunting and fishing." Also, "One who abides by a code of fair play."
Those who are called "Animal Rights Activists" would say there is nothing "Fair" about modern hunting or its methods. Wild animals don't stand much of a chance against a determined Hunter with today's very accurate, high-powered weaponry. But hunting today involves all kinds of weapons, from compound and crossbows to rifles of many different types, with or without telescopic sights. Hunters use their weapon of choice for various reasons. Some do so in the name of "Fairness", some do so to demonstrate their personal skill levels with all types of weapons and stalking techniques or tracking skills.
Reduced to its basic roots, hunting was a means of survival. The taking of an animal's life to sustain human life by devouring the animal's flesh or even using the fur of that same animal to protect the human body from the elements. In a time of great need, man will use whatever weapon is at hand and take the life of any other animal to sustain his own life and the lives of his family members. That's hunting in a nutshell.
In my youth, with the only weapon I had available, an air rifle, I provided my own family with Bullfrogs, Ground Squirrels and various kinds of edible Birds. Seldom was an animal's life sacrificed with any other thought in mind than the fact it would be meat for our table. As our finances improved, we purchased better weapons, 22 Caliber Rifles and 12 Gauge Shotguns. We also purchased and raised some domestic stock, purely as a food source, such animals as Chickens, Ducks, Geese and Pigs.
Poor families eke out a living. It is a necessary part of life. The meat on their table is often whatever is available. Any kind of wild meat is acceptable so long at it can be eaten. Better weapons expand the range of animal types that can be taken. Desperate times keep people from rejecting most kinds of animal flesh, of course, there are exceptions to any rule. But my family ate Rabbit, Squirrel, Groundhog, Opossum and even Raccoon.
Some families develop a "Taste" for certain kinds of animal flesh. Even in the best of times, an occasional meal of Wild Rabbit or Squirrel is a treat, so, even when circumstances didn't demand that we resort to wild meat, the Hunters in the family would venture out into the fields and forest to hunt and provide that preference of taste.
There are other aspects of the hunt which participants find enjoyable. There is a release from the stress of daily life, and contentment in the solitude of a wooded hillside. We often call such activities "Unwinding" or relaxation. There are some women who have crossed over into these activities. They work every day, side by side with men, know the same stresses of the job and do not limit themselves to what society has classified as appropriate means for relieving stress.
For as long as I can remember, I have known a strange excitement that swells within me at the approach of "Opening Day" for the annual hunting season. The anticipation of events that may take place gives place to remembering the experiences of hunts from the past. If there is a gathering of friends who have known the shared adventure of other hunts, the evening prior to another hunt will be filled with tall tales and good natured taunting of one another's lack of hunting skills. They make jokes and laugh, remembering accidents and mistakes or some clumsy pratfall or nasty spill which occurred to someone other than themselves.
A close friend will be the first to recall a time when some one's aim was off and make critical judgments concerning that person's ability to hit the broad side of a barn with a shotgun, all in good natured fun. There is a special kind of "Bonding" which only fellow Hunters can know. Relationships are formed by that bonding which will last a lifetime and unrelated men become Brothers in spirit and soul.
On the evening before a scheduled hunting trip, grown men lay in their beds, wide-eyed with expectations. Sleep is slow to come when closing one's eyes in search of sleep is greeted by images of old, long standing, Hickory groves; their leaves already changing into their autumn colors. The images are so vivid; the crispness of the chilled air can be felt in the lungs as the individual draws deep breaths in their mind. The warmth of the morning sun can be felt on cold, damp shoulders as it filters through the treetops and washes the forest floor with light.
The senses seem more alive; the vision seems clearer, sharper and more appreciative of nature's beauty. Nothing is overlooked or taken for granted. A soft cushion of thick moss was placed on top of that fallen log just to form a comfortable place to sit for some weary Hunter. The forest floor has been carpeted with a thick layer of fallen leaves in preparation for your passing that way. The birds and Ground Squirrels seem to have staged a special performance just for you to observe this day. The birds are more vocal, the Ground Squirrels are more energetic than normal and Mother Nature herself has arranged a display of beauty on this day, which no other man has ever seen before.
As you sit on a fallen log, the seat that nature prepared for you, there is a sudden gust of wind, it swirls through the tree tops and a descending veil of leaves, so thick, it blocks out the sun, comes floating to the forest floor. The breeze is scented with the pungent odor of decaying leaves, tinged with the acidic aroma of damp tree bark. There is a hint of freshly mown hayfields on the same breeze and wood smoke from a distant fireplace. It is such a special day, you know that it may never happen again. You are in no hurry to exit from this place. It is a time of rare events and you allow every impression to flow through you, to leave an indelible mark upon your soul. This day will become a treasure for future years. You store it away, close and lock the door, behind which the experience will remain until you have need of it again.
Certainly, you are blessed above all other men. Mother Nature comes to sit beside you, placing her arm upon your shoulder, nudging you to come to a place just over the next rise, around the next bend in the creek which winds through a wooded valley. She has so much to share with you; how can you not go? With every step you take, the scene changes, before and behind you. Progress is slow and methodical, for you fear you will miss out on another treasure. Life is all around you, its power surges over and through you. You feel invigorated and strong; soaking up the energy which is all around.
Standing on a small rise, you take in the scene before you. Fingers of sunlight radiate through the trees, looking like a great fan of sparkling gemstones. They splash upon the forest floor and illuminate the darkness. Squirrels frolic around the roots of a great Oak and then climb in a serpentine coil around the massive trunk. You should be stalking them, but you tell yourself "There is plenty of time for dying", but life is a vapor and the joy of it is shared by all creatures.
As if to reward your thoughts, from the edge of the woods, a young male Deer comes on the scene. His antlers still covered with velvet; he pauses in one of the fingers of sunlight and strikes a majestic pose. His muscular, young body tenses with alertness. He raises his head to sample the air, sniffs it deeply and exhales. A billowing cloud of vapor drifts out from his nostrils and spreads out into a vanishing mist, luminescent in the sunlight, rising into the darkness just above the his head and is gone.
His tucked tail is suddenly erect, his skin jerks and twitches over his flank and his head turns in my direction. Has he caught my scent? His actions seem to say he has. I remain motionless, but his gaze is locked onto my position. He senses that something is there which should not be, something alien and possibly a threat to him. Caution is his friend and hurried flight his defense. He explodes into action and with several great leaps; he was out of my sight. I can only stand and be in awe of his power and strength. But he has not escaped, for I have captured him in my memory. He will remain with me so long as I have life.

Copyright 2011, Clarence Bowles
All rights reserved. Reproductions without the author's express permission are prohibited.

Do you know this singer/recording artist/vocalist?

2011-09-11T16:13:00.000-07:00

I came across this video over at http://www.timegoesby.net/weblog/2011/09/interesting-stuff-10-september-2011.html?

Those Canadians are really getting into this Flash Mob video stuff and they are good at it too.

What really impressed me about this particular one is the fact that the flash mob only had one six hour rehearsal and the video was shot in one take. (this is what was reported in the blog)

I loved the sound track they were dancing to. I searched and searched but could not find out who has recorded the song "I believe she's amazing."

If you are good at Google searching perhaps you could find out for me and pass the name on to me.

If you can, I'd appreciate it. I want to download it from I-Tunes if it's available.

In the meantime, enjoy the music associated with the Flash Mob video I included here.

Tribute post - 9/11/2001

2011-09-11T10:54:00.000-07:00

I feel emotionally spent. I may be dehydrated due to all the moisture that has leaked from my eyes and been forced from my nasal passages. I don't like being so emotional for such a long time. I'm glad such occasions don't occur more often.

I will however, offer you the opportunity to shed a tear or two when you watch and listen to the video which follows here.

I was there - a tribute video to 9/11/2001 from God's point of view.
You may need Him one day also.
http://t.co/u0kHkmc

Why Does Michele Bachmann Think Abolishing The Department Of Education Is A Solution?

2011-09-09T08:18:00.000-07:00

Why Does Michele Bachmann Think Abolishing The Department Of Education Is A Solution?

A certain editor at the Daily Beast posed this question.

I would ask them and others ... "Do you not see that the woman has a good point to share and she made it.
Not everything she says is wrong. "

The educational system is not you own private Nanny. If you are thoughtless enough to bring children into the world that you really wish you hadn't, then your responsibility is to parent them as all parents should. That means paying the necessary taxes needed.

If you have children of school age, then gladly pay the tax which funds the schools they attend.
I don't have any children of school age living at home, they are grown and out on their own. Yet, the taxes I pay always include school taxes. Those new school buses aren't cheap. If they weren't there every school day, think about how much you would be inconvenienced. How would they get to school then. Parents over in Cincinnati found out the consequences of not passing the levee needed to fund the buses needed for their area. You should have heard them complain then.

Our Baby girl is gone and we are devastated

2011-09-01T07:26:00.000-07:00

Eleven days ago, Maureen and I had to make the most difficult decision we've faced in many years. Our beloved dog, Jenny, had been sick for a couple of months. She seemed to be back to her old self after lengthy periods of various kinds of medications and then suddenly, she got much worse. Our Vet diagnosed her with liver damage of some kind. She said that she had seen this in other dogs that had been kicked in the side by a horse. Jenny had not been near a horse her whole life time and I'm positive we haven't been kicking her, not even once. We couldn't watch her suffer one hour longer if there was something we could do; and there was. We called an Emergency Vet Clinic we were familiar with and were told to bring her in right away. They would handle everything and anything we needed.

The clinic staff was outstanding. They understood how we were feeling. They knew how horrible a situation it was for us and they did everything in their power to ease us into the process, to support us in every way possible and they were so gentle and caring with our Baby.

Even now, I can't fight off the surge of grief which threatens to overwhelm my emotions. Never have I cried this hard over anything that wasn't human and very close to me. The three adults in this home are simply devastated, crushed, unable to deal with the situation. This home will never be the same again. It's hard to believe that one small animal could cause this much havoc in a family.

My wife, Maureen will not be comforted. Any little thing with the power to cause her to remember Jenny in the best of times bring on tears in a flood. She has heart problems. I fear at times that she will not be able to hold up under the stress of such grief. Then, what will I do? Curl up in a fetal position and just allow death to overtake me also? I am nothing without her. We are next to nothing without our Jenny. God help us to overcome this.

My struggle to regain control of my life

2011-09-01T06:50:00.000-07:00

Today I closed down my Facebook account. The latest new feature they tried to force upon me, against my will, was the last straw. They informed me that I have 14 days to sign back in and activate my account before it is gone forever. One can only hope this is true.

Seems that everyone, even this very software I am using at the moment is "up-grading" my Blogger Interface or attempting to enhance my blogging experience. It's a modern day fad or something.

I appreciate them desiring to make things easier and more convenient for ME. I am convinced that is the only reason they are doing all this. Call me gullible if you want.

Just as I wrote that last line and hit the ENTER key to move to the next paragraph, the cursor jumped up to the beginning of this composition and I just froze in place.

There! It did it again. What is going on? They want me to send them some feedback. I'll send them some feedback. I don't think they will like it though.

Silly me! I was supposed to go over to the right side here and set the "Options" before I started writing. That was easy enough. I wonder why that wasn't made known to me before I began to try out this new interface?

You know; the way I'm carrying on right now, you'd think that I was paying for this Blog.

A too long short story and a tip from me to you ... just saying......

2011-07-20T06:38:00.000-07:00

Recently I searched out a reputable roofer to fix a leak that has nagged me for years now. I thought it had been fix by the fellow I hired to put on a new roof. He told me he had noticed it and did what he considered to be a quick fix. I was elated if he was right and glad to know that there are still some dedicated people doing hard, hot work for a reasonable price. It took a while to notice the indications that he had NOT fixed the afore mentioned leak. The roofer I was led to by some friends at a local eatery whom I break bread with one or two mornings a week, came over and evaluated my problem. He also admonished me for trying to repair it myself, calling the roofing tar from a cartridge I had used "Roofer in a can." He didn't hint around. He came right out and told me that what I did had actually made the leak worse. He was correct. It did get worse after I tried to do it myself.

He came over on the next Saturday morning and using some of the shingles I had saved from the new roof job, took about an hour to achieve what he assured, "Should" do the job. I was to call him if I discovered otherwise. I'm glad to report that so far; so good. We've had some heavy rain since and so far (knock on wood) I see no hint of a leak. Because of his accumulated experience and skills, he also shared some special "tidbits" pertaining to my current roof condition and possible future expectations. In his own words, it won't be too long before I may discover the need to have the WHOLE roof replaced. That was NOT welcomed information. Being the pessimistic kind of person I am, I told myself I would leave that up to the next person who owns this house. HEY! I'm not buying any green bananas now-a-days.

Now! Here's that tip I mentioned in the title of this post.
I'm going to suppose that a great many people live in homes that are frame and drywall on the interior walls. Many may even have drywall ceilings that have drywall compound on the ceilings that has been patterned with a round brush or sponge to create a common design everyone is familiar with.

Any "Do It Yourself" type handyman knows what corner and joint tape is as utilized by those that installed all that drywall in their house as it was being constructed. I'm going to do some "assuming" now. I find it hard to believe that I am the only home owner today that has noticed that the joint tape used in the corners where the vertical walls meet the horizontal ceilings has begun to pull away from the ceiling here and there around the house. If you are one of those, I'm wondering what you did about it. What I do know is that it looks very, very bad when it happens.

All good, skillful, experienced drywall craftsmen will apply a thin layer of joint compound under the joint tape before they begin the process of coating and applying designs on the ceilings. For all I know they may have come up with some device similar to a "Banjo" that is used on flat seams between sheets of drywall that applies the compound and tape all at the same time in the corners I referenced. What ever the case may be, for some reason the result is that they "skimp" on the film of compound under the tape that goes against the ceiling area. They must also end up with a thin layer of compound on top of the corner tape too. That's the only way I can explain the corner tape in that area coming loose and looking so bad. It took approximately twenty years for it to be noticed by myself. I don't know if that is what anyone should expect in the area of longevity when it comes to the lasting ability of drywall tape and joint compound. All I would ask is "Why doesn't the same thing happen to the vertical, inside corners of all the rooms also?" I know that they use a metal, corner "bead" to protect all the vertical, outside corners of the drywall panels. That explains why those areas don't have a similar problem.

I'll repeat myself; if you are one who has corner tape coming loose and looking bad in your home, what did you do about it? Perhaps you called a drywall repair person who came and fixed it someway. Perhaps you are one who doesn't really care how it looks here and there and can simply live with it. Perhaps you would try something like I did to make it better. Use a staple gun to hold it up on the ceiling panel and then cover it up with a heavy coat of paint. That method didn't work very long for me. I wouldn't recommend it for anyone else either.

Here's what that some roof repair man that fixed my leak suggested as a simple fix. Using a chalking gun and a cartridge of "painter's friend" type chalking, apply a bead of chalk in said bad looking corner and then smooth it out with a putty knife. Give special attention to the edge of the tape where the crack can be seen. Forcing some chalk through the crack and under the tape before applying a sufficient layer of chalk over the whole taped area on the ceiling panel. The chalk will act as "glue" when it dries and the surface coat will cover any surface blemishes. When it dries it is difficult to tell where the crack ever exited and the next time you paint, the chalk with accept the paint well. It was easy and quick for me and it looks great right now. Only time will tell if this method has a flaw. For what it's worth, there it is. HEY! It's free advice. Free is almost always good (except when it isn't.)

Global Warming - explained by a Hillbilly

2011-07-18T15:51:00.000-07:00

Global Warming as seen through the eyes of this Hillbilly Philosopher.

I wonder; how long has it been since some scientist has checked on the tilt of our planet? I recall seeing it stated at one time as something like twelve degrees of inclination from the vertical plane. I think it may be time to break out the slide-rule again and do some recalculating.

I say that because I believe the position of the equator has changed. In our hemisphere, I believe it has moved northward, while on the opposite side of the planet, it has moved southward. The only way that could happen is if the tilt of our planet has been altered.

What influences could have brought that about? There are several but all of them involve moving the weight of the earth’s crust from one place to another.

I knew that learning to play golf was going to cause me serious problems in some way but I never dreamed it would come to this. The game of golf and global warming; what has one got to do with the other?

Dave Pelz is some kind of glorified Golf Guru. He knows too much for his own good in my opinion. One day I watched as he explained that no two golf balls are exactly the same. They have some variation in their density brought about by the manufacturing process. All golf balls have “heavy” spots in them and unless one can determine where that heavy spot is and align it just so when one is preparing to make a putt, that heavy spot is going to throw off all their other calculations concerning line and pace of the putt and it will miss the cup.

He brought out this special tool that can be used to determine where the heavy spot is located, position it at the center of a spinning ball and by using a fine-point felt-tip marker, inserting it in a hole and touching the spinning ball, leave a dark line around its determined equator. When one is getting ready to attempt a putt, they position the ball with that dark line centered, top to bottom, so that the heavy spot will roll from top to bottom continuously, insuring the “truest” roll possible. After seeing that demonstration, I got to pondering things unrelated to golf but still having to do with any round object that is spinning around.

The planet earth is sort of round and it’s spinning also. Imagine if you can, one of those machines large enough to accommodate our planet. Once it has been spun for a while and the heaviest spot on it is centered by centrifugal force, would that point be where we believe the equator to be located today?

Our planet is still geologically active. It has a core of melted minerals that are constantly on the move. The surface or mantel of the earth is “floating” on a sea of magma and as magma is forced to the surface by the affects of continuing cooling and the resulting shrinking caused by that cooling, the thin plates of the earth’s crust move in relationship to one another. That natural process in and of itself is changing the density of our planet relationally to its center.

Then, when you add to that the influence of the human race on all that naturally exists, that brings about further changes in the earth’s density. We human beings are mining minerals in one place, transporting them to another, using those minerals in one way or another. We are building structures on the earth’s surface all the time. We harvest trees or burn rain forests and that also has the affect of changing the location of surface weight on our planet. Not to mention the mass of humanity itself that migrates from one place on the face of the earth to another, concentrating populations of millions or billions of bodies into small areas on the earth’s surface and that contributes to a dramatic change in density or weight of the earth and the position of said weight on its surface. Humans tend to migrate to the most temperate areas on the earth’s surface, the places that are the most comfortable for them to live. If the equator is moving, so are the temperate zones and in reaction to that, the earth’s human population migrates right along with those changes.

The concentrations of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere may contribute to a small temperature rise, but it’s all relative to the affects of our sun’s radiation. Where the sun’s radiation strikes the earth’s surface most directly is the area that will be heated up most. What is being heated up matters to the resulting affects of said heating. It’s all very complicated and I’m not even going to pretend to understand it all accurately. In my own logical way of thinking, if what is being heated most by the direct radiation of the sun is changed because the earth’s relational tilt is altered by any cause, then the resulting weather patterns are also going to change.

I hope that someone much more intelligent than myself will opt to look into this matter and get back with me on it. I’m beginning to get concerned about it. I may need to move to a more temperate zone and do it soon.

Just ask anyone and I’m sure they will agree; the weather sure has been different around here lately.

Growing up is optional

2011-07-12T14:23:00.000-07:00

Today I received an e-mail from my younger sister. It was all about great truths one learns in life. You may have seen it yourself; I know it has made the rounds on the Internet.

I have a theory about truth and that is: Truth is not universal. Still, I read and agreed with much that was on that list. Then it struck me that some of those comments would make excellent writing prompts when someone is stuck for something to write about but just has the need to write as therapy. So that’s what you are getting here.

Growing old is mandatory; growing up is optional.

In my past writing I have often stated that I didn’t grow up until I was thirty-one-years-old. I realize now that I got married for the third time when I was thirty-one. Life was more fun when I was that immature person. When I grew up life became more enjoyable and I suddenly found myself much happier.

Now I have this feeling I should quote Paul the Apostle from my Bible.

1Cor:13:11: When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things.

I’ve heard others say that a certain child “had an old soul.” I don’t fully grasp what they meant by that. My understanding and comprehension concerning the depth of such a statement is very much like looking at an iceberg floating in the ocean. I can “SEE” a small portion of its meaning but I KNOW there is so much more to be known. In essence having an old soul implies that a child has grown up faster than most; they may even be seen as mature far beyond their years and possessing uncommon wisdom.

For me to grow up required a lot of conscious effort. The amazing aspect of it was that I saw so clearly exactly what needed to be changed. Paul said it so simply “I put away childish things.”

Whenever I needed to know about something complicated, all I had to do was remember every little bit of wisdom that my Dear Old Dad tried to teach me. He had a “down-home” type saying for every situation and circumstance that life could throw at a person it seemed to me. Jesus chose to teach using parables; Dad chose to teach using those earthy SAWS of his. One might not remember them if they only heard them once. I suppose that’s why Dad thought it was necessary to keep repeating them at every opportunity. If a situation called for one, he would dig into his bag of comments and spout it for me.

I don’t recall Dad ever sitting down with me and having “one of those lengthy talks” everyone else seems to have had with their parents, and yet, his words are so deeply ingrained in my character and personality there are times when I could pass as his clone.

My earthly father’s teachings sustained me for the first forty-three years of my life. My Heavenly Father’s influence has sustained me for the last twenty-seven years.

Dad wanted me to be worthy of my salt. Jesus said I am the salt of this earth. Dad wanted me to be a man. Jesus insisted that I come to him as a child. Dad said “stand up and be a man; fight for what you know is right and never let another man see you cry.” Jesus said to forgive your enemies and pray for them that spitefully use you; turn the other cheek and be meek and humble. Dad said “nobody is perfect,” Jesus said I could be perfect as His Father is perfect. Dad treated me like a child, Jesus treats me like his brother. Dad said I was irresponsible; Jesus says I am responsible for my own salvation.

One might suppose that I would be a very mixed up person seeing what confusing baggage I brought with me into my mature years. But my Dad also told me that the time could come when I might replace his advice with surer words of wisdom, tried and proven methods that would produce better results than his. “That’s what all men end up doing at some point in their life.” I hear Paul speak of seeing through a glass darkly until the one that is perfect comes.

I’m glad that my Dad lived to the ripe old age of eighty-two. Because of that opportunity to witness what I grew up to become, he himself had to adjust some of his thinking and opinions where I was concerned. You see; he was right about that much. Dad stopped treating me like a child when he began to see the mature choices I made in my life. Dad was a hard man but he had high hopes for all his sons.

Where I am from ... a Floyd First project

2011-07-08T07:25:00.000-07:00

I am from tag soap and Robin Hood flour

I am from RC Cola and Moon Pies

The fragrance of the general store at the head of the holler

The pot-bellied stove with it stable of whittlers

Spinning tall tales, spitting ambure into rusted cans

I am from poverty and want, egg money and wood fired cooking stove, ashes on the floor that are swept through the cracks in the poplar flooring planks

I am from under the house playing with chickens and pups

Searching for Doodle Bugs to call from their pits

I am from Floyd Charles, Lula Marie and Carrie June

I am sturdy stock, strong of back and will

I am bathed in Moonshine, reared in slate piles,

Coal mine grit rubs thin places in my ruddy skin

I am from turning plows pulled by Mules

I lay down in seep water from a mine to cool myself in the heat of summer’s blazing sun

I am from Brown’s Mule and Day’s Work plug tobacco

I am slave to Buffalo roll-your-owns and kitchen matches struck on the rivets of my bibbed overalls

I am from long ago and far away, Appalachia was my prison

I have long roots that suckled survival from rocky hillsides

I was captive of family story tellers sharing family sins

Son of Hard-Shelled Baptists and Holy Rollers

Cursed, confused, needy and loved

I am from woods, streams and tobacco fields

I am from proud, angry, desperate dreamers,

longing for victuals and the basic necessities of life

I am from gravel roads and dry creek bed trails that only lead deeper into isolated ignorance

I am from mountains and branch of Sheep Shoals creek,

Walnut Gap and Pepper town ridge

I am from hunger and weariness, Kerosene and blasting caps,

Rock fences and triple strand barbed wire strung tree to tree that Blue Birds perch on and sing as I sit and ponder

I am from tick and chigger, bedbug and White-faced Hornet

I am friend to June Bug, foe to Wasps

I am from the banks of the Kentucky River, Jackson and Booneville, Owsley County, Ervin and Revina

Horse-shoe curve bars my way to Manchester and beyond

I am from Bluegrass and horse farms, miles of pasture and meandering creeks full of sucker and bream

I feed on Rabbit, Squirrel, Whistle Pig and Possum

Taters, Maters, buttermilk and cornbread

I come from scorn and ridicule, Jokes of in-breeding and questionable lineage

I am Hillbilly, Hayseed, Hick and Redneck, pick-up trucks with gun racks and Fox tail on the aerial

I am from hangings and feuds, Rebel Flags and cold long-necks

I am from thick skinned blood lines, hard and tested,

Proven and standing tall

I am from limestone slopes and hardwood forest, Cumberland Falls and Grassy Creek

I am from hard hands and soft laps, rock candy and molasses cakes

I am old and wise, weathered and bent

I am from smoke house and barn, solitude and quiet

Freshly mown hay and hog lots perfume the evening breeze

I am happy, content and glad to be from where I came

Things I've stopped doing since I've gotten old

2011-02-05T07:46:00.000-08:00

This entry was prompted by a recent post on TGB which was a "repost" from an earlier time.

I was hesitant to start making a list titled "Things I've Stopped Doing since I've gotten old."
I told myself ... Self, if you start writing about it, when and how will you ever stop?
I had no answer nor did SELF. Here goes!

Using toilet paper - I now use infant wet wipes. Please don't ask what you may be thinking.
Shopping.
Driving on Interstates or Expressways except in an emergency.
Drinking anything with sugar in it.
Running at any time.
Walking fast unless Jenny is dragging me.
Driving 6 thousand miles a year.
Sleeping in my wife's bed unless I'm taking a nap and she's not home.
Wearing anything that isn't casual. I kept one suit for funerals. I don't need one for my own.
Seeing anything clearly.
Taking a bath. I shower instead.
Going to a barber shop.
Walking someplace if I can drive there instead.
Spending all day on a computer.
Sex ... Participating in it, not thinking about it.
Making long range plans.
Buying green bananas.
Worrying about my weight. It's hopeless.
Working on something that can only be done while on my knees.
Carrying anything that weighs over 50 pounds.
Hunting.
Fishing while standing up or squatting.
Believing there is anything I can't do if I set my mind to it.
Long distance traveling via any means of conveyance.
Using tobacco in any of its forms.
Staying anywhere there are people smoking tobacco in an enclosed area.
Thinking that bad things only happen to other people.
Believing that I don't need a loaded weapon or two in my home.
Believing that all other drivers are not out to hurt themselves or ME.
Thinking that I'll never live past the age of 40 years, 50 years, 60 years or 70 years.
Being in or near a group of people during winter months or the flu season.
Knowingly staying around anyone with a cold or who has uttered the words "I don't feel well."
Watching those abused animals ads paid for by the ASPCA or other animal charity.
Thinking that I did the right thing by crossing party lines to vote for President Obama.
Thinking or stating that I'm not afraid to die.
Bending over, touching the floor without flexing my knees.
Doing chin-ups and push-ups.
Showing off my bicep guns.
Denying that I have "MOOBS" or that I'm not in too bad a shape for an old man.
Believing that I will finish that Sci-Fi novel I started some 15 years ago.
Believing that there's someone out there who needs to read this list.

What a funny, messed-up world we live in.

2011-01-31T04:57:00.000-08:00

Take Don Imus ................Please!
The man is funny and he's oh so messed up also.
At times, and what I mean by that is, Most of the time, Don's staff and regular program cohorts are waaaay funnier than Don is.
Also Don likes to use the word "stupid" as an adjective. e.g. - He sings so well - - it's "stupid."
Well! Here's the funny part of Don Imus in the morning program

Changing to a non-related topic "Egypt's revolution."
The media can't get enough of it to please them. Every news outlet wants to have their say about it.
I empathize with the demonstrators that are attempting to bring about change in their country.
I empathize but that's about as far as it goes. I watch and I listen, trying to take in enough information to be able to talk about the situation in an informed manner. It may prove to be a hopeless goal for me. I'm an American. I already have what those people want. I didn't need to do what they are doing at this moment to get it. I honestly can't say "I know how they feel," and I'm glad it's that way. I am blessed beyond measure. Still, I feel like I can't just sit here, watching their struggle on TV and do absolutely nothing.

Do you know exactly how involved our country is and has been over the last three decades when it comes to Egypt's present turmoil? NO! Well, neither do I. I can't help but suspect that our government has influenced what is going on over there right now. We can't ignore all the finger-pointing that is going on around us. A lot of people are saying that WE did plenty over the years to keep the leadership they are trying to oust in power. I can't deny the accusation anymore than I can say the finger-pointers are right. I suppose that's because WE citizens were kept out of the loop or that we have been too apathetic to be informed. President Obama promised us a more transparent government but it's still like looking through a glass darkly.

This morning, after a great influx of information from my TV, I sat back to ponder the topic.
It wasn't long before I arrived at a conclusion, an obvious one. We as a nation cannot just sit back and watch things happen as I've heard and read so many people suggesting. Egypt didn't get here by itself, why do some believe they should get things straightened out on their own? There are forces afoot over there right now that are going to do all they can to steer this on-going movement in the direction they desire it to go. For all we know, the Islamic Brotherhood helped to bring this uprising about and even now are attempting to maneuver themselves into a position of power. I really don't believe that these demonstrators desire a fanatical, Islamic State to be their goal. They have said they desire "Liberty and Freedom" among other democratic sounding elements. I don't think they desire Sharia Law as their new basis for government.

They need a calm, assertive, peace seeking voice to listen to. I had the thought, so I may as well go ahead and suggest it. What they need is some one like this man
to listen too. To help guide them to the most logical outcome that will resemble what they truly desire.

Things that go KABOOM! during the daylight hours

2011-01-28T12:17:00.000-08:00

What was that? I said to myself after I had regained my senses. Was it a sonic boom? Was it an earthquake? Is this the end of time and what I heard the sound of Jesus splitting the eastern sky?

It was approximately 2:55 pm; Maureen and Gail had just left the house, going shopping. The truck from Havertys had just finished delivering our long awaited, new, Italian leather covered love seat and I was trying it on for size. (see photo below)

Here I am; old double chin, fat and lazy, couch potato man.

The love seat you see here is so new, the leather hasn't had time to warm up to the ambient room temperature, which my wave controlled clock tells me is 70.6 degrees F.

You know, a man or a woman works hard for most of their life just to get to the point where they can spoil themselves. What you see before you is the end result of all that successful effort.

Just as I thought I had arrived, could relax and rest on my laurels, or in this case, our new love seat, there came such a noise, one that rattled the whole house and its foundation too. I jumped up from my seat, ran downstairs to look around and saw nothing out of the ordinary. I searched the whole house with the same results, then I put on my shoes and went outside to look around.

As I exited the garage, my neighbor across the street, who was standing in her doorway, shouted out to me, "Clarence, did you feel that?" YES! I replied. It shook the house and the noise was terrible. So far, I haven't discovered the source.

She came back with "I'm glad someone else besides me heard and felt it too. I was beginning to think I was imagining things." NO! You are quite sound of mind. I'm just glad to have someone to share the experience with. For a second there I thought I had drifted off to sleep and was dreaming the whole thing.

Back in the house I was still wondering what the heck it was. Suddenly it came to me. Maureen had mentioned to me the other day that some kind of work was going on down in the old Narrows road dip area which had been cut off from the new road construction. She mentioned that it was said, some blasting may have to be done. Was that it? Lord! I hope they don't need to do a lot more of that.

We will wait and see. I was going to call one of our local News stations to see if anyone else had reported any strange, new events. I guess I could drive over there and see what I can see from up on the top of the hill. If they are blasting down there, surely they won't allow anyone to enter the area. I think I will do just that. What can it hurt? Does the old saying "Curiosity killed the Cat" mean anything to you?

Over and out for now. Wish me luck.

Smufficated by VOC's, suffering in back and knees

2011-01-18T12:51:00.000-08:00

Last week I worked like a man possessed getting our little television room redecorated and modernized. Maureen furnished the design skills and I provided the labor and positive head nods whenever she asked me what I thought about a certain color of paint, kind of curtain or if this or that would look good here or there. I know my place. I have no opinion, not one that matters a great deal anyway.

As usual, the project began with the purchase of one major item. This time it was an Italian leather covered love seat composed of two individual recliners; powered recliners. That one item was incentive enough to get me moving in high gear.

The ceiling, which was yellow or tan, depending upon the available light striking it, was that color because at one time, both Maureen and I smoked cigarettes, required two coats of white before the nicotine was hidden. I have been smokeless now since 2004 and Maureen has been the same since we almost lost her on August 7th of last year. Thank God, she is still here and doing well. All of our lives are better since we gave up the habit.

The walls are some shade of tan now but not because of cigarette smoke. It's a vast improvement from the old color, whatever that was. It was some kind of Martha Stewart - K-Mart pastel rose.

You can see it here behind me in the photo.

We started out looking for something with low VOC's but the price was too high for Maureen's liking so we trucked on over to Lowe's and picked up some Val-spar super-thick, guaranteed to cover with one coat paint with the stink still in it. I still have a lingering headache. It's not bad, just nags at me a little.

The baseboards were a back-breaker and knees killer. I had to put down masking tape along the whole perimeter to protect the marvelous Pergo floor I installed several years back. It's some tough stuff and I probably could have cleaned off any errant paint but why take a chance?

The really difficult part followed the painting. Finding and installing a wall mount for our 32" LED, flat-screen television. Maureen and I discussed the matter at length before we hashed out where it would be mounted, how high, etc. I need to take some pictures to accompany this entry later before I click that "POST" button.

Here is how the TV appears from our normal viewing position and then a picture of the articulated arm mount where I located it on the wall. I was lucky to find a place with plenty of wood behind the drywall. It is very solid and able to support any TV we might mount there later on.

Another little job that turned out to be quite the challenge was assembling the furniture Maureen purchased to complete the transformation. That woman is good! Good at picking what she wants and supervising me while I struggled putting it together. Okay! She helped with the actual assembly - a little.

The narrow stand you see in the left photo is one of the assembly jobs. The other is the low bench you see next to a cute storage baskets stand in the right side photo.

I like the two items she picked up and had me mount on the walls. One says "Rejoice for His salvation" and the other says "Our house is just a little house but God knows where we live."

Then there are the other accents Maureen brought into the room, some from other locations around the house and those new ones she purchased. I believe she brought another accent home today after she and Gail went shopping for a time. She will get around to showing me where she wants it located some time tomorrow. I'm sure it will be as appropriate as the other items she selected.

The love seat is not due for delivery until the 28th of the month. Till then we will get by with our old seating arrangement. I can hardly wait till then. I wonder how long I can sit reclined, watching television before I drift off to sleep? I also wonder how quickly I will manage to sleep in my recliner all night long. It's gonna happen!

In the above photo you can see the old love seat we are currently using and you can get some idea of the new rug we found at a yard sale last fall. It's a perfect color and design for the new remodel.

Reposting "The Living Years" article

2011-01-18T05:52:00.000-08:00

The Living Years

1989

Who can know and understand all the ways or means which God uses to communicate with His children. I have heard His voice through many different vehicles and instruments; still I am often surprised by His methods.

Would God use the words of a secular song to reveal knowledge concerning a subject He wants us to be aware of? Certainly He would, if that was the only way to get His message across to us at the time. With Balaam, it was necessary to use a donkey for God to be heard by such a determined individual. For me, this time, it was a group known as Mike and the Mechanics.

Sometimes we seek God's help in a certain area of our life and when He answers we are distracted by something else and just are not able to hear Him. God is interested in every aspect of our daily life and desires to help.

Most of us have some unanswered questions, curiosities of life, about which we would like understanding. Perhaps those questions are connected with events in your own past, behaviors which you, yourself demonstrated and you believe them to be relevant to your present day relationship with a son or daughter.

Do you have a teenager in your house? Do you communicate well with them all of the time? Do you understand all you would like to understand about them? Are you confused at all concerning them? Do you ever look back at yourself when you were a teenager and see that your parents had much the same problems as the ones you may be facing now? Did you learn anything from all that reflecting, something which has helped you in your present relationship with your teenager? Did you see some mistake your parents made and say to yourself, "I won't be like that"; "I'll do things differently", and low and behold, in your efforts to do better, your solution to the problem only made things worse?

Don't you see that this parenting business is haphazard at best? It's trial and error, mostly error, learning from the mistakes you make as you go along, hoping that your mistakes won't have a long lasting affect on your child. You read books written by experts on raising children, or listen to other parents who have experienced similar circumstances, weigh all the advise carefully and then, painstakingly, place your other foot in your mouth.

The first time I heard "The Living Years", Kellie, my fourteen year old daughter, called it to my attention. She said "Dad, listen to this song, I think you will like it." I listened, and you know what, she was right, I did like it. I thought to myself, "My daughter is developing a better taste in music."

From that time on, I seemed to hear the song repeatedly, on the car radio, on TV and in the shopping malls. I don't believe in coincidences. That term is misleading and can cause one to miss out on a valuable learning experience. Sometimes, God has to knock on our mind's door continuously to get us to answer.

There was something about that song which stirred feelings deep inside me. They concerned a subject into which I had invested much time in thought. I was brought to tears at times as I listened to the perfect combination of words and music, and I was puzzled by my reaction. Finally, after several attempts to obtain my own copy of the song, I broke down and purchased a cassette from a local, discount outlet at the Florence Mall. For $6.99 I got that one song and not much of anything else. One bonus was the fact that the cassette cover had the words of all the songs that were on the tape, printed out on it. Not that I had any trouble hearing the words of the song as they were being sung. It just helped to have the words in print so I could study them and their possible meaning at my own pace.

One Sunday morning, as Kellie and I were getting ready for church, she was in the bathroom, the door was closed and I could hear that she had the radio on. Suddenly, I heard the familiar beginnings of that song again. She opened the door, announcing "Dad! here's your song again". I sat down in my desk chair to put on my socks and shoes, and as the music sped up and the words began, I felt as if my heart would break. "Every generation--blames the one before--and all of their frustrations--come beating on your door--I know that I'm a prisoner; to all my father held so dear--I know that I'm a hostage to all his hopes and fears--I just wish I could have told him, in the living years."

"Crumpled bits of paper--filled with imperfect thought--stilted conversations--I'm afraid that's all we've got--you say you just don't see it--he says it's perfect sense--you just can't get agreement--in this present tense--we all talk a different language--talking in defense."

Then came the chorus, it tore away at what remained of my own emotional defenses, and I felt crushed. "Say it loud--say it clear--you can listen as well as you hear--it's too late, when we die--to admit we don't see, eye to eye."

In my mind's eye, I could see the great gulf between generations. It seemed to be constantly expanding, growing ever wider. On one side is the parents; on the other, the children. The only way they can communicate over that great distance is by screaming the words they have to say to one another. Sadly, I could see just how true that whole scene was.

I wondered to myself, "Can even LOVE bridge that wide an expanse?" Are they so much like us that our relationship to one another is like two powerful magnets whose like poles repel, pushing away, increasing the distance between us? I felt so helpless at that moment; and there were more tears.

Why do we have such difficulty expressing what we feel to one another? Why do we pull away into seclusion and write imperfect words down on paper in an effort to relate, only to crumple the paper up and discard it before someone has the opportunity to read it? Perhaps, the act of writing it all down gives us some form of release, temporary relief, but left unshared with someone, what has it really accomplished?

I believe that most parents have met with that same rebellious attitude in their teenagers at times when they have attempted to correct or instruct them in what they see as some critical aspect of this life. Seeing that kind of attitude displayed; withdraw, back away from the situation, not wanting to bring further separation between themselves and this child which they love so much. This child, the product of parental love and concern, the very fruit of their own bodies; how can it appear so alien and remote from them? They are confused, undecided as to what action to take next. Will it be another mistake?

Then, guilt sets in. "It's all my fault; I've made them this way. I have passed on to them, all my own frustrations; all my own personal faults. They are only what I have made them." Yet, there is something inside us, which will try again when we see them heading for a fall. It's called LOVE.

I had to look up the word "STILTED" in my dictionary before I fully understood what the words were saying. "Pompous-Lofty-Formal-Stiff". Is that how our children see us? Do we make ourselves appear lifted-up, superior to them? Do we put on the pretense of being unable to make their kind of "stupid mistake"? Are we pompous in our attitude when we talk to our children? Do we lecture instead of discuss? I'm afraid, most of us do exactly that. The reason we know so much about it, is because we DID make those same stupid mistakes and are not honest enough to admit it to anyone, especially not to our own children. They have little enough respect for us now; what would they think if we admitted to something like that?

I believe that the chorus to this song has pretty much hit the nail right on the head. Someone needs to point out to both parents and children, that it is very hard to understand what someone else is trying to say if you don't listen. Not listening usually leads to more shouting and more hurt, more rebellion and more determination on the parent's part, to make their point understood.

Lack of communication skills leaves so much unsaid, and so much which is said, misunderstood. Parents believe that because of all the experience they have had at communicating, the full meaning of what they had just expressed to their teenager has been fully understood. They had expressed it such a way, anyone could understand it. The problem is, most teenagers seem to speak a different language. They have the ability to read a lot into the tone of one's voice and are very good at interpreting body language, as are parents. What does it take to gain the confidence of one's own child? Even when parents are completely honest and open, they are not seen that way because, in the past, they were always less than that, sometimes they were thought to be devious, divisive and scheming.

To continue; the second verse of this song says, "So we open up a quarrel--between the present and the past--We only sacrifice the future--It's the bitterness that lasts--So don't yield to the fortunes--you sometimes see as fate--it may have a new perspective--on a different day--and if you don't give up and don't give in--you just may be OK."

Does the present actually have a quarrel with the past? Being a parent; I know how much time I have spent reflecting upon my past. I don't care much for the phrase "The Good Old Days." How can we forget the painful experiences we knew while growing up and remember only the good times? How dishonest we parents are with ourselves and how selective are our memories. Of course, most of us had loving parents and there were plenty of good things to remember, but what about those childhood friends, the ones which turned on you, called you spiteful names and tore your simple world apart? There was no way for you to explain it to your parents so that they would understand. Some children are abused physically by their so-called friends, and the hurt went far deeper than any cuts or bruises could penetrate. The hurt is hidden away, deep within their young emotions and never expressed. Who can they talk to? Who would understand?

The root of bitterness; what a monstrous cancer to carry around all those years of a young life. It never shrinks, it only grows larger as more and more bitterness is held within. Is there such a thing a fate? Are some of us destined to unhappiness and conflict with the world around us? If we don't give up and don't give in to the forces pushing and shoving us in one direction or another, we may find that life will turn out all right. For so many teenagers who don't possess the patience, suicide is their permanent solution for a temporary problem. A calm and peaceful exterior displayed by your teenager could be covering up a raging storm of bitterness within. If parents can't take the time and find some way to express the bitterness that they experienced as a child, and assure their children that with time, their life will change; that bitterness could overpower and consume their future.

A new perspective; how does a person obtain one? Certainly not by ignoring one's position in life and hoping it will simply go away. There is an age, a time in everyone's life, when they realize that they are not a child anymore, and yet, they are not an adult. How confusing a time that is for everyone. I will say this; maturity has a way of changing one's perspective.

Parents know about change. They have found ways to adjust to those changes. The good old days are far behind them and their perspective is "NOW". Responsibility weighs heavy upon their shoulders, and doing everything right is most critical. But there is no assurance of doing everything right all of the time. There is no carved in stone method for raising children, because children are individuals, just like us. No two are identical. Don't look to me for any pat answers; I’m as confused by all this as you are. Giving the task your very best couldn't hurt, and love, though it isn't a cure-all, will bridge most of the small gaps.

There is one bit of wisdom I would share with parents and children alike, if I could. It is something I learned through my own mistakes, some advice that could make a difference; "COMMUNICATE". If you can't find the words to say what you want to say in a face to face talk, by all means, write it! Put those words, imperfect though they may be, down on paper, but don't crumple them up and throw them away. Forget about your pride and that perfect image you wanted to project to your children. It will help them to know that you were once, where they are today, that you didn't have the answers and needed to seek someone else's help, even if that help came in the form of a sympathetic ear, just someone who was willing to listen as you poured out all the hurt and all the bitterness which was building inside you. Sure, your children will present different circumstances which shape the problems they are facing, circumstances you may be unfamiliar with, but all that experience you have had is valuable; combining that with parental wisdom and logic and that special kind of love God grants all parents, you will work it out.

Imagine this, if you can; you will become the first person they turn to when they are facing difficulty in their young life; not the last. They could even present you with a problem that will stump you completely, but wouldn't it be great to know that they had the confidence in you to bring it to you for a solution? Should that happen, don't be ashamed or too proud to admit that you too, may need to seek outside help. It's enough that you were willing to listen and try.

The end of the song says, "I wasn't there that morning--when my Father passed away--I didn't get to tell him all the things I had to say--I think I caught his spirit--later that same year--I'm sure I heard his echo in my newborn baby's tears--I just wish I could have told him--in the living years."

How sad it is to say that parents have the most influence upon their children's lives, only after they have left this world. It's a sad commentary on the human state of existence. For the children, it's as if their parent's personality took up residence within the words and actions they recall. Ignored statements and bits of advice suddenly have meaning, or forgotten deeds of love and kindness take on a value never noticed before.

Love and dedication are never wasted on the young. Those heart to heart talks do sink in, slowly, that's for sure, but they do have value and are important.

There is a way to change this all too common outcome in human relationships; please try to find it for yourself and take action.

The living years are over and gone, far too quickly.

Improving your TV News benefits

2011-01-11T07:11:00.000-08:00

I know; it doesn’t sound possible and yet, Maureen and I have done it. Well, Maureen mostly but I helped. I was the one that had the idea to give her an I-Pad for Christmas. The palm computer has a slight learning curve. Maureen is a fast learner and it didn’t take her long to get the little beast under control and obeying her slightest touch.

One of the talking heads will introduce a news topic and Maureen is already there, scanning the pages of info, pausing only long enough to share something interesting with me.

What can I say but “She Loves that I-Pad.” I must also say “it is one fascinating piece of technology.” Well Done Microsoft!

The news media gives us some of the news but her I-Pad gives us the rest of the story.

Those apps it offers either FREE or for a small charge only make the I-Pad experience more fun. Open it up, say something silly and wait for the cute cat on the screen to repeat it back to you, only in a different voice. Who knew that an expression like What-sup could cause such laughter?

Maureen is hooked on a certain ball rolling through a maze of holes game. She plays it for hours at times and she’s becoming very skillful at it. I wouldn’t even try it. My hands shake way too much and I get frustrated quickly.

I guess I should close this out and get to the painting job that now hovers over my awake hours. Our TV room is in shambles and the furniture delivery deadline looms large. Must be ready! That’s my mantra now.

It’s snowing here in the tri-state area. The latest winter storm is overhead and not moving out fast enough for my liking. No one can agree on how much we will end up with but for sure … it will be more than I need.

Ta-Ta. See you again when I’m not under so much performance pressure. They don’t have a pill to help with painting … YET.

Have you got a minute? Can we talk?

2011-01-03T04:13:00.000-08:00

I hate those news network "hooks;" you know, those short blurbs they throw out there at the beginning of each segment, statements that usually cause one to lay their remote down, sit back and expect to hear The rest of the story. Suddenly it sinks it - - - what they meant was - - - just sit there you stupid sucker; we will share the rest of it much later. All we wanted was for you to stay with us and we knew that unless we used some kind of bait, you surely would move along to something else.

Fox and Friends is turrible (Charles Barkley bit) about it but they are not the only ones to do it.

This morning they started out with "Certain non-documented aliens had their day in court and after the gavel came down, they were informed that they would be deported back to Mexico." Continuing on "Their response to the verdict and sentence was "if I had known that deportation was a possible outcome of my case, I wouldn't have pleaded GUILTY."

Then they added - - - and you know what; it just may get them a new trial.

Instantly, the short hairs on the back of my neck and elsewhere on my body started to tingle, kind of like Spiderman's spidy sense does to him.

What ever happened to "Ignorance of the law is no excuse?"
I've heard that saying most of my life.

Here's what I know for sure - - - should you or I visit another country and do anything that violates one of their laws - - - we would certainly experience the full punishment that their law allows and simply stating "I didn't know about that law or the resulting punishment" wouldn't alter the outcome one iota. In fact, in some certain countries, we would disappear behind some bars and never be heard from again.

I also heard on another station that one of our elected officials wrote up a bill for consideration and a vote to have the use of the phrase "illegal alien" by our nation's news networks, done away with and replaced by UNDOCUMENTED Alien. I experimented with a version of that in a previous paragraph; did you notice? I wrote "non-documented." It didn't feel right to me just typing it when I knew I should have written "illegal alien." That's a lot more accurate word usage.

LOOK! I know and so do you, there is not one living human being on this earth that doesn't know what will happen if they "SNEAK" into any other country, by-passing the offically recognized entry process, that if they are caught later on, one possible outcome is going to be deportation.
That's one of the better possible outcomes. Even the Canadians don't like it when one of us "sneak" into their country and they are on good terms with us. It's too easy to get into Canada using the official method and vice versa.

I don't get it anyway. What takes place at one of our official border crossings with Mexico? Isn't it sort of like the way we deal with Canada? Sure! they check vehicles for illegal substances, but does every person that crosses our southern border need to produce "papers" that permit them to come into this country for a quick visit? My wife and sister-in-laws have crossed into Mexico to shop several times while we were visiting them in California. The process sounded very easy to me. No muss, no fuss. I know for sure that busloads of school children cross our southern border every weekday morning to attend school in the US.

SO ... tell me ... what is it that makes some Mexican citizens feel that it is necessary for them to sneak in or be smuggled into our country? It makes absolutely no sense to me. Either way, if they are in our country for an extended period without registering to be processed the official way, they are and should be classified as illegal aliens, and that's that. If and when it is discovered that their status is "without authorization to be present in our country" how can they possibly believe that they won't be deported back to Mexico after they are found out?

I've heard many people say "Well ... they are working and paying taxes; why shouldn't they be allowed to stay?" I know our tax system is very complicated, BUT ... how does someone who doesn't have a visa or greencard get into our taxing system "LEGALLY?"

Put these two in the boxing ring and allow them to have at one another.

2010-12-01T06:31:00.000-08:00

WOW! I love those football highlights broadcasts.

I didn't have to sit through a whole game and put up with all those commercials they are constantly squeezing in at every opportunity to enjoy this brawl.

There are a few things these men could have done differently but it is what it is when it's broadcast live and we must accept what we see on our large screen TVs.

OK! OK! I'll share it with you this once but from here on out, you will need to get your own.

That Finnegan fellow should have hung onto Johnson's helmet when he ripped it off his head so he could have used it as an equalizer. For certain, Johnson is larger than Finnegan. Johnson also appears to know how to throw a combination of haymakers that are difficult to defend against when your face is in the turf.

NO! These two should not be fined for fighting. It's what experienced, overly aggressive, excited young men who play professional football do. Throw them out of the game for sure but that should be where it ends unless the two men involved want to take it to the parking lot later.

These guys had been going at one another for most of the game and rumor has it that there was already existing bad blood between them. It was bound to happen then! And ... it did.

If I were Johnson, I wouldn't let that little Irishman keep thrusting both hands up under my face mask every time we blocked each other either. It gets old real fast.

Let em play people and fight when it's called for.

The day our world stood still

2010-11-23T06:30:00.000-08:00

Saturday, August 7, 2010 is a day that is seared into my memory. In the early evening I had to call 911 for my wife, Maureen because she was having trouble breathing.

Thank God, they got her to the hospital ER still alive. That fact brought little relief for her family because she still faced a difficult struggle. There were machines and tubes everywhere it seemed and Maureen remembered none of it for she was in some other than a conscious state of mind until sometime Sunday morning.

This coming Saturday will bring us to sixteen weeks since the event. I'm so very glad that she has recovered so well during that time. She will never be her old self and that fact represents GOOD and BAD in her individual and our collective circumstances.

It has been determined that she will NOT require a pacemaker at this time. Her heart appears to have repaired itself somewhat and is now stronger than expected. Her required medications may change in the near future but I'm almost certain that she will be on some kind of maintenance drugs for the rest of her earthly life. It may also be that she will require a pacemaker later on, for science has not yet learned how to alter permanently, the natural control mechanism that determines one's heart rate and Maureen's has been exceptionally fast for most of her life. Her blood pressure and heart rate have both shown a tendency to climb upward as her body grows accustomed to her current meds and her heart continues to gain strength.

For the most part, Maureen's daily routine is returning to what can be classified as "Normal" for her except for checking her blood pressure so often and taking meds three times each day. She already hates the way her condition and the treatments for it have taken over her life. Having diabetes myself, I can only invite her to get in my boat when she complains too often. It's not easy but it's much better than the alternative.

This Thanksgiving Day we will have so much to be thankful for. Our little family group will come together, hold hands while we stand in a small circle and join in a group prayer, led by our called into ministry daughter, who will speak the words that are in all our hearts before we sit down for our little feast. She has amassed a considerable group of prayer warriors during these last sixteen weeks who have joined with her to usher her Mother through this stressful time of testing and healing recovery.

I believe all of our individual faiths have added some spiritual muscle from being exercised so often and for so long a time. We will offer up thanks for that aspect of the experience also. That is not the end of our thankful list. As a side benefit, Maureen has been smoke free ever since that fateful day. She states that she doesn't feel any better for it. I find that difficult to accept for I too gave up cigarettes back in 2004 after a traumatic hospital visit. Funny how all we needed was some incentive to put us on a smokeless path through life.
I am more proud of Maureen for sticking with her determination to stay smoke free than I can possibly say. She deserves a great big ATTA-GIRL and a pat on the back. I'm not sure if she realizes that it's for her own good. I am also reluctant to tell her that from time to time, the desire to light one up returns but the visit will be short if she pauses and thinks about why she decided to quit in the first place.

Thank you Lord for hearing and answering our prayers.

Be thankful - - - It's for your own good

2010-11-21T07:25:00.000-08:00

Another long day on the job is over, and after fighting your way home through stop and start traffic, all you really want to do is get something to eat, perhaps take a nice, refreshing shower and turn into your alter-ego "Couch-Potato Man".

Perhaps you are into the evening news or a short browse through the daily sports section of the local newspaper. Regardless of what your daily ritual is composed of, if you watch TV at all, eventually, you will be exposed to one of those heart-rending scenes of starving men, women, and children in some remote area of the world. If you are anything like myself, your response is to reach for the remote control, get deeper into the folds of your paper, shutting out all reception of the narrator's voice, or perhaps you are tempted to just get up and leave the room.

I don't think too much of myself when I get like that. Except for the Grace of God, there go I. I do have compassion for those people, but being realistic, what can I do about it? There are only so many charitable contributions possible before the welfare of your family is affected.

Let's face it, we take our own good fortune for granted too often. This Thanksgiving, if you are fortunate enough to be able to sit down at a table which is overflowing with a bountiful feast and one which is surrounded by family and friends, please take the time to reflect upon all you have to be thankful for and express yourself in someway. If you have a God you believe in, give Him, Her or them an expression of Thanksgiving; if not, express your appreciation to your wife, or husband, or children, or just some loyal friend who has enriched your life in someway.

If present circumstances find you in such a condition that you can find little or nothing to be thankful for, I will be thinking of you as I give thanks this year and pray that your circumstances improve quickly.

Clarence Bowles

Bathroom makeover

2010-11-13T05:19:00.000-08:00

It all began innocently enough. We went to an annual Church auction where we spotted this beautiful vanity; bid on it and it was ours. It seemed to be one of those "predestined events" one comes across during their lifetime because once we bid $200.00 on an item that was valued at over $300.00, no one bid against us. Then we discovered that it fit in the back of our 2003 Rav-4 Utility vehicle. Now, how often does that happen?

Oh how I wish we had taken pictures of the way our bathroom looked before we began the remodel. I would have posted before and after images and you could toggle back and forth to appreciate the difference.

Anyway, the project took on a life of its own and it rolled itself into a tight tuck and began to roll downhill like a horrible avalanche. I lost track of the trips we made to Lowes Home improvement store but it wasn't long and the employees began to recognize us on sight and came running, knowing that we were going to need some help no matter what it was we came to purchase. Being totally honest, I sort of enjoyed our interactions with Lowes. They were so helpful and cheery, laughing at my pitiful jokes and adding a few of their own once they got accustomed to my demeanor and outgoing personality.

I knew I was going to be tested the moment I removed the medicine cabinet from the wall. I have never been afraid of a good challenge but I have always been stupid that way. Call it over confidence if you'd like; I don't really care.

I'm not even sure exactly how many days or weeks passed before the project was done. I walked around in a stupor of a kind, a million thoughts flooding my mind and keeping me from thinking carefully about the sequence of steps required to complete the task. In other words I simply blundered by way through to the end.

During this project, I managed to accomplish some feats calling for a skill level not even I knew I possessed. One of those feats demanded that I purchase a very special, close quarters nail driver. Sears had them on sale, so once again I was thinking that someone up there really, really likes me. I'm not afraid to pray for divine intervention when the situation calls for it. I did have to resort to paying someone to lay the tile floor. I did all the work I could, like cutting and installing the "backer board" that supports the thin-set and the tiles. When I was ready, Zeke brought over his wet-saw and all his experience and knocked out the floor in no time. We waited the required time before we cleaned the tiles of excess grout, then waited some more for the whole thing to cure. The next day we began the sealing process. It was difficult but well worth the effort. Our bathroom looks and performs better than when it was new. We are so happy with it, sometimes I just sit there and admire my surroundings. Now don't try to imagine that picture I just painted in your mind. It could have lasting negative affects.

Thanks for your time and attention.

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I keep waking up in the morning

2010-09-16T13:41:00.000-07:00

That's a good thing to have a problem with.
Unless one's quality of life is a one or two on a scale where one is practically zero and ten is being on top of the world in all areas of importance in life.

Maureen and I have been watching a new series on Showtime. It's titled "The Big C." Cancer is never a good thing, I don't really care how one looks at it.

No one in this household has cancer. If they do, it's not common knowledge. Gail had cancer a number of years ago but her doctors now classify her as "in remission and cancer free." Medicine has made great strides in treating it. Maybe it is correct to state that a "cure" has been found for certain kinds affecting certain areas or organs of the human body. I'll go with that for now.

There are a great many events in life that has the ability to sap all the joy from simply living daily life and being diagnosed with terminal cancer is only one of them. There is an older woman in the aforementioned TV series who had lost her husband to colon cancer and she is one for whom cancer has had a very destructive affect. She became a lonely, bitter, survivor and it is from her lines in this series from whence the title of this composition was borrowed. There was another string of words preceding the title that I have heard many, many times but it had nothing to do with a great, mind numbing loss in life. That was "I'm ready to go...but"

In the religious realm, most individuals hope to be able to say those four words, dropping the "BUT" and meaning it with all their being. For we of that ilk, it is a claim that one must be absolutely sure about before it can be stated with total confidence. One doesn't arrive at that point by simply thinking it over in the mind. It is a spiritual milestone, an event that one cannot ever doubt or deny and still continue to use that claim as they communicate with the world around them.

Jesus said it this way. "You MUST be Born-again." He's the authority for me personally.

From the book of John, chapter 3, verses 3 through 8 (New King James version)
3Jesus answered and said to him, “Most assuredly, I say to you, unless one is born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God.”
⁴ Nicodemus said to Him, “How can a man be born when he is old? Can he enter a second time into his mother’s womb and be born?”
⁵ Jesus answered, “Most assuredly, I say to you, unless one is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of God. ⁶ That which is born of the flesh is flesh, and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit. ⁷ Do not marvel that I said to you, ‘You must be born again.’ ⁸ The wind blows where it wishes, and you hear the sound of it, but cannot tell where it comes from and where it goes. So is everyone who is born of the Spirit.”

1 Peter 1:23 (New King James Version)

²³ having been born again, not of corruptible seed but incorruptible, through the word of God which lives and abides forever,

To the best of my knowledge and relying upon countless word searches involving many translations of the New Testament; Matthew through Revelations, what you see above here is the only three instances of the words "born & again" appearing together in said testament.

These two instances, where the two words appear together, in the Book of John, are used by certain denominations of the Christian Church to imply that there is a vast difference between being "Saved from all sins" through and by the redemptive process made possible by Jesus; God's only Son and "being Born-Again" through and by the Holy Spirit.

Jesus said explicitly in John, chapter 3, verse 3 “Most assuredly, I say to you, unless one is born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God.”

If Jesus meant what He said, then all one suffers loss of by not being born again is the ability to "see the kingdom of God."

From that point on, many sermons have been preached on the subject and many various interpretations of what the scriptures are really saying has been rendered to the church as teaching and doctrine.

Question: Is seeing the kingdom of God the same thing as being part of the kingdom of God?

Many scholars will tell you that the kingdom of God is within each and every one of those that believe and have the presence of the Holy Spirit residing inside them.

Seeing the kingdom of God aside, Jesus said that in order to be qualified as born again, one must have been born of water and the spirit also. To this believer, the water birth is achieved by being born of a woman. For approximately nine months, all human beings are immersed in and protected by the water present inside their mother's womb. Some may believe that the water part of that process is the water involved in baptism. Either way; I'm covered and qualified and thus, I confidently profess to any that will listen, I have been born again and "I'm ready to go."

The thing is ... I keep waking up in the morning and each time I must make my way through that day, serving Jesus Christ, loving those around me and praying that others will be able to see Christ in me as a testimony to the fact that I have been born again.

What's in a name or the way it is spelled?

2010-09-15T14:18:00.000-07:00

I've been threatening to write something about this topic for a long time now.
The opportunities have been many but today appears to be the day.

PHONICS: A method of teaching elementary reading and spelling based on the phonetic interpretation of ordinary spelling.

Ordinary spelling. Is that the problem responsible here?
The family name "FAVRE" must not be ordinary in spelling or anything else.
Is the name a tongue twister? Do most sports announcers have difficulty wrapping their tongue around that VR combination and thus have taken the easy way out and simply started pronouncing it as if it were spelled "FARVE?"

That's the only explanation I have been able to come up with.
Perhaps it's a Cajun thing; a French Canadian thing or some other aspect of the French language that I am not familiar with. Whatever the reason, I am fed-up with it.

The name is pronounced "FAV-RA" not "FARVE."

It's Brett Fav-Ra not Brett Farve. Either that or he needs to change the way he spells his last name.

Perhaps another Cajun can make me understand why people are pronouncing it that way.
I'm willing to learn something new. Please help me understand.

The best of last lines

2010-09-15T14:14:00.000-07:00

I watched a certain movie AGAIN recently. I MUST do these kind of things because the choices are so few.
Let's face it...Television simply sucks most of the time. Hundreds of channels to choose from and not a thing to watch that's worth watching.

I enjoyed watching this movie as much this time around as I did the first time I saw it and that was in a theater where the screen was a lot larger than my 32 inch HD TV and where the sound was much too loud.

Any way...as the movie ended and one of the main characters had the last word, it struck me just how great that closing line was.

I had this idea. I don't have many good ideas so at first I was tempted to keep it to myself. I didn't do it. I couldn't do it.

As Janie Poopie does sometimes...just consider this a "Brain Dump."

Please don't get your panties all in a wad if you are bothered by profanity. I didn't say what follows. Hey! It's only a movie!

In this movie, the last words were spoken by a female character.

The line was..."Just tell me you love me - - - - you pussy."

Can you name the movie? If you believe you know who said it and in what movie please post your answer in the comments associated with this entry.

Also...it would be great if you had a favorite last line from a movie and would post it in the comments of this post too and allow the rest of us to see if we can guess what movie it came from.

Thanks for playing my stupid game, that is if you decide to play along.

Apathy - The seed of discontent (first published in 2000)

2010-09-15T13:54:00.000-07:00

If you are reading this, it can only mean one thing; we have survived Y2K and the millennium bug, the world did not end and it is now safe for all of us who remain to get on with the business of life.

Let us begin this great adventure with an experiment in time travel.

We only need to go back in time 200 years or so. Our nation is so young, barely a toddler as nations go. We have thrown off the yoke of oppression and find ourselves struggling to establish a government. Much of the North American continent remains unexplored. We have carved out a foothold on the eastern shoreline and coastal inland. Every day is a struggle for survival and yet, we persist and endure the hardships of taming a wild land. Life is so hard, but the hearts of men burn with hope and enthusiasm. This is the land of opportunity, a place where dreams, some of them nightmares, come true.

Can't you feel it? There is freedom here. It is man versus wilderness, and determination against obstacle. You can have what you are strong enough to take and hold against all odds. The odds are so great, only the fittest of the species has any hope of success.

At first, growth is slow, painfully slow. Ships arrive at establish ports, unloading their cargoes of hopeful souls. Whole families come now, not just the adventurous explorer. A family or group of families makes their way along well traveled dirt roads until the roads end and then they take to animal trails, hardly more than shallow depressions in the virgin soil. At some point, they stop and using whatever criteria is required for selecting a homestead, they begin to build shelters and pens to protect themselves and their beasts of burden. If they have chosen well, others will come here too and settle close by.

Time passes and homesteads become communities and communities become villages and villages become towns and cities. There are certain basic needs that any group of people must have to survive and grow; some of them are civil structure, law and order, authority and government. Someone needs to be in charge and make decisions for the good of all concerned, someone dedicated, someone responsible, some knowledgeable, wise, honorable individual. You may have noticed; I didn't mention educated in that list of attributes. If a person could read, that gave them a leg up on many others.

At first, the only authority figures available were Military ones. In some areas, settlements sprang up around Military Forts, in others; the settlement was a fort of sorts. There were ferocious Indians and animals roaming the forests of this wild land, so some measure of substantial protection was called for. But at some point in time, all growing communities had to establish their own civil authority as Military units were called away to fend off other serious threats to their young nation.

They saw themselves as a democratic republic, and that meant there was a selection process to be observed in appointing civil authority. Who can say how this was actually done back then? Could it have been as simple as having the Military Commander of the central Fort appointing his choice of individuals to fill the needed offices during his absence?

For my own purpose and due to a lack of historical fact to base an opinion on, I envision a gathering of major citizens from the surrounding homesteads. The heads of families assembling themselves together in an official meeting, discussing the immediate needs of the community and someone nominating one or several individuals for consideration. Of course, that individual had to be available and willing to accept such responsibility for that office should the people elect him. What kind of offices do you see them trying to fill? Constable (local police), Magistrate (local judge), or possibly Mayor? It's actually difficult for we of today to relate to such a loose civil structure and organization.

I feel I need to present one last scenario in order to make a point. I know it is difficult for us to place ourselves in such crude surroundings, but please do try. If you were to find yourself in such an assembly, a meeting that was called to select community officials; how would it be determined who could vote on the matter? What were the criteria used? We know that women didn't get a vote, neither did children or young men under a certain age. So who was allowed to cast a vote, even if it was something as simple as raising one's hand in agreement? I would venture to say that it was only the male head of household or any resident male over 21 years of age. He had to have a vested interest in the proceedings. This selection would affect himself and his family, if he had one. So think about this: how important was any man's single vote at that time?

Have you ever wondered about how an individual became a civil servant during such times? I don't believe it was anything like most of us would think. A man didn't throw his hat into the ring and make it known that he was interested in running for office. More than likely, a person would be approached by a group of their neighbors. They would explain to that person how a dispatch had been received from the national government informing their community that because of the growth and expansion of our young nation, a representative was needed to come to the capital and serve as a Congressman. Let's face it folks; there were not many politicians around at that time.

If you were one of that group, how would you decide whom to ask to represent your community? I believe that the last person you would ask is one who is anything like what we have come to know as a politician today. They would be someone you probably know pretty well. They would probably be a family man. They would know how to read and write and they would have what you recognized as leadership qualities. You may have worked and fought along side them from the very beginning of your community. They would be honest and God fearing and for whatever your reasons, you would respect them. You would also realize that you were asking a lot of them at the time.

They would need to leave their family and homestead for a period of two years, getting back home for a visit only on rare occasions. Who would take care of their family and the crops and livestock? That was the deal. He would agree to represent all of his community and the community, in turn, would take care of his family and homestead. I'm not sure how they worked out the details between them, but they did. The community would provide for his upkeep too while he was serving in the capital as their representative and if he got a little spending money as wages all the better for everyone concerned. One thing for sure, he wouldn't get rich from the experience. When his two years were up, he would return home and once again assume his role as male head of household, husband, and father. Knowing he would be going back home at the end of his term in office, can you imagine how motivated that man would be to do his very best on behalf of those he represented?

January 2000, not only is it a new year, it is also an election year. How things have changed since the era we visited above. People have become so complacent and comfortable; it seems that we have lost sight of the value of personal involvement in the running of our own country. The realization struck home with me last November. Some states were electing Governors, Kentucky being one of them. Getting into the community building and casting my vote was no problem at all. The only cars in the parking lot belonged to the Police Department. I commented on how sparse voters were and was informed that it had been that way all day. It was a beautiful day, so I knew that it wasn't the weather keeping people away.

The next day I made a point of checking the local news station for the election results. It shouldn't have come as a surprise to me when they revealed that only twenty percent of the registered voters had turned out. Okay, so it was only an election for Governor, but twenty percent turn out! My goodness folks, what is going on?

I became more agitated as I pondered the situation. I came up with this idea. I would take a poll within my own household to see if I could get some clues. There are four adults here, all of them registered voters. I asked, "Who made it to cast their vote today?" There was only silence in reply. I went on an information gathering foray about then. "Who can tell me who the present Governor of Kentucky is? More silence and an obvious expression on their faces which said they knew where I was going with this line of questioning.

My wife came up to my writing room, where I sat hunched over in my chair, face in hands, starring blankly out the window. I think she could hear the gears grinding in my head. "What's come over you?" I began to explain and she sat down, realizing somehow that this would take a spell. When I was done, she came back with, "I can remember not too long ago when you held the opinion that your one vote wasn't worth very much." She had me, for she was correct. But, I have had a change of attitude since then. Isn't that what a person should do when they realize they had been wrong about something?

Now, I find myself with this perfect soapbox to stand on. How do I go about changing the attitudes of others? I felt this growing concern mounting within myself. I thought about Ross Perot, the man who stirred so much hope in our nation not so long ago. What a disappointment he turned out to be. I can't put my finger on the reason, but actually, I have never felt like part of the majority of voters in this country. Every time I thought I had an election's results all figured out, the people would speak with their votes and I would find myself standing out there alone, or at least it felt that way to me. I told myself in the last election, "There is no way the people of the United States will re-elect Bill Clinton." Wrong again.

In all the time I talked with coworkers prior to the time to cast my one vote, I don't think I found five people who said they were going to vote for him this time. When it was all over, I was talking to myself. "Who voted that man in?" Needless to say, I felt vindicated by the time they were trying to impeach him. I suppose we all know what happened; don't we?

Guess what I've learned since then? One cannot assume that people know what should be obvious. First, people have to care enough to pay attention to what is going on around them. I hope you don't mind if I ask everyone some personal questions. How informed are you really? When you do take the time to turn out to vote, how thoroughly do you know the candidate you intend to vote for? When you step into that voting booth and close the curtain behind you and look at the list of names presented for you to choose from, how many of them do you actually recognize? Are most of the names familiar? Is that because you have seen countless signs along the roads you drive home on? I think most of us would be amazed to discover the process that leads up to pressing a button or throwing a lever or however it goes where you vote.

Do you vote strictly along party lines? Would you even consider voting for a person who was running on an independent ticket? What do you know about that top rated Republican or Democrat candidate? Where do they stand on the issues that are most important to you? When you have made your choices and end the process by pushing that VOTE button, do you feel like you are making a difference in the outcome of things?

Believe me, I do understand. If you comprehend the numbers and think about it, there are over 250 million people in this country and the majority of those are of voting age. How insignificant is my one little vote? All I can say is this; if someone doesn't find some way to inject some enthusiasm into the voting process in this country, nothing is ever going to change for the better. You ask, "What's wrong with the way things are now? Why do they need to be changed?"

Yes! I know, the economy is strong, the stock market continues to climb, our present government is right on top of things all around the world. I have a good job, we have enough to eat, and a roof over our heads and all is right in my world. If it isn't broke, don't try to fix it.

I'm not about to attempt composing a list of all the things that I believe could be made better. You and I may not agree, but we should at least have some valid information upon which we form our opinions. Most of us have heard the story about the frog that was placed in a pot of cold water under which a fire was burning. The temperature increase was so gradual, the frog didn't know anything was wrong until it was too late and someone was having it for lunch.

What I am trying to say here is that it may be a good idea to swim over and take a peek over the side of the pot once in a while.

There are not many ways for John Doe, American citizen to be heard and have influence in the way his own country is run. If John becomes complacent and apathetic about the value of his vote, he, more or less is giving up his rights to contribute to the outcome of elections and essentially leaving the decision making up to others who believe they have more invested in it than most. If you believe that those others have your best interest at heart, by all means, keep going the way you are and live with the consequences.

With today's technology and all the ways made available for us to gather information so easily, there really is no excuse for any voter to go to the polls uninformed.

Recently, I came across a web site called "SelectSmart." I was highly impressed with my first visit and have returned several times since then. At that time, there were sixteen active candidates running for the office of President of the United States. Did you know there was that many? I didn't, but I quickly found out.

On this site, each candidate was furnished with 14 issues that were indicated to be of the most interest to the average voter. They were asked to state their position on each one. When you visit the first time, you are given the opportunity to take a poll on those same issues, selecting your own position or opinions. Then you can ask for a list of all of the candidates representative of the one who most closely matches your own views, continuing on in a descending order to the one who is most in opposition to your views. Each candidate's position is clearly stated and provided at length and in detail, in their own words, as supplied to the site's operators.

The site is very informative and must be experienced to be appreciated for its depth and detail. Yes! It will require one to sacrifice some of his or her valuable time and effort, but I believe it will be worth it to everyone. Is the information reliable? It should be, it came right from the horse's mouth. Now, of course, we must all realize going in that these men are politicians. It is a place to start and I do hope that you will take the time to be informed in any and all ways possible.

Remember that our government is OF, FOR, and BY the people, but it only works the way it was intended if we do our part and our duty as citizens. BE AN INFORMED VOTER IN OUR NEXT ELECTION.

Funny IS where you find it - best when it's an isolated location

2010-09-15T13:42:00.000-07:00

Lately I have run into some gender specific humor scattered thither and yon around the Internet on certain Blogs and have received some emails of the same content.

Here's one that spares neither sex and seems to get more funny as I continued to read.

Here are some bold words that I received in an email this morning for example.
Now remember, I didn't say or write them; I was just one that found them funny.

Japanese scientists have created a camera with such a fast shutter speed, they now can photograph a woman with her mouth shut.

My responsibilities

2010-09-15T13:33:00.000-07:00

Recently, while looking around my VOX neighborhood, I noticed something called “The Question of the day.” That day the question was “What are your family responsibilities?” It struck me as an interesting question so later I devoted some pondering time to it.

At first the thought entered my mind that no one would read a list that I might compose that included all my personal duties within my family, legitimate or imagined.

Another thought I had, which was also a question was, “How does one become responsible for something; anything within their family group?”

I didn’t believe that anyone would enjoy reading the list of 100 things about me that I composed a year or two ago either but I came to find out just how wrong I was about that also.

I want to take a stab at making a list of my family responsibilities in spite of that risk that posting it here has the potential for boring lots of folk, or not. For that statement to be true I would need to have a lot of regular readers and I don’t believe that I do, really.

The first thing on my list should be:

* Being wrong about more things than anyone else in the family.

I believe that may well be because I am so eager to show off my accumulated life skills.

Among my siblings I have always been known as “Professor Know-it-all” and for good reason.

It’s because I’ve always believed that I DID…Know-it-all that is. When it turns out that I don’t know it all then I am deemed to be wrong, thus the motive for item number one on my list.

All joking aside, I do seem to have a much longer list of responsibilities than any other family member.

In an effort to have anyone who may be reading my lengthy list to be fully informed and aware, I feel I should provide another list and that is a list of who it is that makes up MY little family group.

Me, myself and I (Husband, brother-in-law and human to our pets)

Maureen (wife, sister and top human to our pets)

Gail (sister to Maureen, sister-in-law to myself and number two human to our pets)

Jenny (Top Dog, spoiled rotten Bitch that she is) Can I say that here? Sure I can

Lucy (Cat) enough said.

On with the list:

1. EVERYTHING…especially when anything goes wrong with anything.

OK! I took the easy way out. That’s the way it seems to me but we all know that I am wrong so often that this is probably one of those times.

Actually it would probably be easier to make a list of the things I know for certain I am not responsible for in our family group.

Just as I thought! I can’t come up with one thing.

What it really means to get "OLD"

2010-09-15T13:19:00.000-07:00

It has long been said that in the spring, a young man's fancy turns to thoughts of love.

I am one that would agree with such thinking...at least as it applies to young men.

However, when one reaches a certain age, like 65 or more and I am now 69 going on to who knows when, my "fancy" still turns to thoughts of love but it's love for something other than the opposite sex.

Sure! I still love my younger wife. I love her as much now as I did on the day I first proposed to her but it's a different kind of love. I don't look at her and think of sex very much anymore because to do so always ends up with me being frustrated...not sexually but emotionally which is sort of like it.

Thank God for a mind's ability to remember the good stuff from one's past. If it wasn't for my memory, when someone mentions SEX I'd just get this blank look on my face and ask "What's that?"

Alright! Enough of that. I've gone off on a tangent of some kind and got away from why I started writing this entry.

When I say that in the spring this old mind of mine turns to thoughts of love...it's love for the out-of-doors; love for being outside and doing stuff like working in the yard and gardening.

Though my fancy has changed, it still sounds kind of like love and sex.

For instance....I went out and bought myself a new "HOE" this year. That got me a little excited but not in the same way as sex once did.

Actually, my love for yard work and gardening is exactly why I haven't been posting very much of late. When one reaches my age there is only so much energy to work with. Energy is rationed out each day. Use up what you have in your tank and that's all there is until tomorrow. The rest of the time till then is spent laying down and resting, trying to recuperate and recharge the old battery.

Aleve, Advil or generic ibuprofen has become my best friends. If it were not for them, no amount of renewed energy could get this old, aching body up and moving the next day or two after an extended period of exertion outside, playing in the dirt.

Spring and new, growing grass and weeds wait for no man. It's either tend the lawn or have it rage out of control and require professional help to get it back in line. I can't afford professional help, not on our fixed income.

The extended drought this year took a terrible toll on our lawn. We couldn't afford to water it as often and as much as the dry, sunny conditions demanded. I just stopped looking at it and let nature do what it was determined to do. Doing that came at a high cost. Everything outside these four walls suffered because of it. Thanks to air conditioning; inside the house, we were cool and as comfortable as could be expected with the thermostat set at 78 degrees. At least we didn't turn brown, shrivel up and die like the growing plants did outside. We are getting there but it's taking longer than one growing season without enough water and too much sun to do it.

I tried to accomplish something out there each and every day. Some days it was quite a lot and others it was just "something" but it all counts in the end. I have managed to clean up all the dead stuff and planted grass seed. It was so bad, I had to resort to accepting help from a younger neighbor on our block who just happened to have a new "slit-seeding" machine...one that his father gave him for some reason. I tried to run that machine the day he was outside over-seeding his own lawn just to see if it was possible. He said he would let me borrow it if I could deal with it.

I could NOT. That machine kicked my butt and it didn't have to strain to do it. It was so heavy and the fact that my neighbor didn't have enough knowledge or experience to set it up properly didn't help the situation. Also, it did not come with a "User's Manual" for some reason. I wonder what his Dad did with it? I know I scared my neighbor when I just threw up my arms and got away from that monster of a machine and went to the middle of his driveway, bending over, placing my hands on my knees and started struggling for my next breath of air. I didn't think I was going to make it for a minute there. My neighbor agreed...something was definitely wrong. That machine should be that much work to use.

I suggested that it might help to set the slitting blades a little deeper, allowing the friction of them slicing through the soil to provide some traction to the forward movement of the machine as a whole. It did not have powered wheels of any kind. It depended on the operator and something else to move it along. I figured it must have been designed with the moving blades in mind for that purpose and it seems I was correct. I love it when I am right about something.

Even after that discovery, this old man was afraid to attempt doing all the work that needed to be done in this yard. I don't believe I hinted at all about my need for help. Let's just say my neighbor is a sensitive kind of guy with a quick mind and a passionate heart. He could see my problem and simply offered to do it for me if I wanted him to. So, that's how most of my yard got properly seeded. The smaller areas I did with my Mantis Roto-tiller and good, old fashioned manual labor spread out over several consecutive days and rest periods. Of course, I offered to pay him for his help and because of his current financial situation...he allowed me to. Thirty dollars is not much pay for all the work he did but it was the best I could do at the time.

So...there you have it. OH! It's not over with....not by a long shot. There will surely be more of my long-winded descriptions of what life is like for one that is up there in years and hasn't taken particularly good care of himself during that time.

I know it makes for boring reading. Thanks for reading and hearing me out.

FOOD!

2010-09-15T13:09:00.000-07:00

I heard someone state recently: “If food means anything to you other than nourishment; you are already in trouble.”

Food has been many things to me throughout my life but I can honestly say I’ve never thought of it as nourishment.

Food is necessary.

Food tastes good (for the most part.)

Food is very satisfying.

Enough food can cancel hunger pangs.

Food is a reward very often.

Your next meal is not promised to you even if you have enough money to purchase it.

There are few things in life as comforting as a full stomach.

Good food is a gift that I like to give to others and it brings me great joy to watch them eat and enjoy it.

If God hadn’t wanted us to enjoy food, He wouldn’t have given us taste buds or appetites and He wouldn’t have made so much of what He made for us, taste so good.

It simply isn’t logical to imply that food is simply nourishment for our bodies. A grazing animal might buy that. Most of them eat grass and other vegetation that doesn’t taste good to me raw or cooked and they don’t know from cooked.

Is that how most human beings see food; as fuel? Not hardly.

Even if someone came up with a means of producing nourishment in a pill or wafer (solent green)and made it so cheap that everyone on earth could afford it and have access to it, basically wiping out hunger in the world, there would still be people like myself that would rather have and would be willing to pay whatever the cost for a nice, thick, tender, juicy steak with a baked potato and a nice, fresh garden salad with ranch dressing.

Some people act as if food is the forbidden fruit. I assure you; it is not.

OK! I was the one who brought God into this. If I'm going to quote Him, I need to include the negative with the positive. He also said we should not be gluttons. Good YES! In excess NO!

The problem is, I may like food so much I have committed sins overindulging. If you could see me in person or a full-length picture, I'm sure you would agree that I have...sinned that is...many times. Color me guilty.

Tuning in to the universal rhythms

2010-09-15T12:43:00.000-07:00

The rhythm of life is a theme I have been unable to stop thinking about ever since I first saw the movie “Phenomenon.” Seems there is always something popping up to remind me that I should devote more time to thinking about it, as if it has an unrealized importance in every person’s life.

What’s really strange is that every time I do invest time in pondering the topic, I end up asking myself the same questions: “If you ever do figure the whole thing out, what are you going to do with the conclusion you arrive at concerning it? Who gave you the assignment; GOD? Is this the reason you were created? Is this you purpose in life? Albert Einstein gave us E=MC squared and look what we did with that. Now you hope to figure out the relevence of The Rhythm of life, reveal the truth to the whole world and then allow them to do with that secret truth, what they will. ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?”

There is a basic, natural rhythm to life. It can be sensed in one’s own heartbeat when one is in a state of rest. If you can’t fall asleep at night quickly, it’s probably because you are unable to quiet your mind and get in touch with life’s natural rhythm.

This planet; it has a rhythm. It can be heard when one is able to enter into a place of total silence. The universe we all exist in has a rhythm. Luke Skywalker and Darth Vader refer to it as the “force.” When that rhythm is out of sync, they, being sensitive to its rhythm, simply say “There is a disturbance in the force.”

There is a specific rhythm associated with every individual element of nature. Most of us “learn” to be sensitive to certain ones at various times during the passage of time we refer to as our individual life span.

As new-borne babes we develop a sensitivity to our mother’s specific rhythms. We are most at ease when we can hear her heart beating, her lungs breathing, her voice humming a soothing lullabye or her hand tapping out a cadence that we recognise as hers, thereby we are comforted by it and sleep peacefully.

Those men known as sailors and seamen are sensitive to the rhythms of the oceans and seas of the world. Some are so experienced and knowledgeable about tides, currents and swells they can navigate from place to place without using compass or sextant.

All of nature throbs and vibrates with life and all life has a specific rhythm. If one is to survive out in the wild, they MUST learn to be sensitive to these natural rhythms.

Predators know the life rhythms of their favorite prey species. If they did not learn them they would not be very successful predators and would probably quickly starve to death.

There is a scene in one of my favorite movies; Dances with Wolves, where a Holy Man, a Shaman out on an exploratory ride on the wide, natural prairie, dismounts from his pony and slowly walks along through the native grasses, holding his hands palm side down, moving them in large archs, letting them touch only the very tips of the seedheads of the local vegetation. You can tell, he is focused on what he is about. He is doing what he can to become totally one with the natural world or even the spiritual world around him. He is reaching out, touching nature with his life and being touched by the life that is all around him in return. To myself, it is the perfect example of what it means to be sensitive to the rhythm of life.

What is it that certain Mothers are sensing when they are said to be intuitive or receptive to the circumstances of one of their children? Are they Jedi Knights, sensitive to the disturbances in the force around them?

The whole universe hums with a certain frequency, the ocean tides lick the shores of continents with a certain rhythm. A tethered Elephant sways to some rhythm we cannot hear or sense. Snakes slither, dogs trot as do horses and many others four-legged creatures and they all do it according to a determined rhythm. Insects make a vast variety of sounds, especially at night and they do so in a familiar cadence or rhythm that rises and falls from a determined high to a determined low in volume. Crickets chip, Katydids DO whatever it is they do at night and we become so accustomed to the sound, we only take notice when it ceases. The night is full of rhythmic sounds and each one has meaning to some other creature. The same is true of the daylight hours. We are not as familiar with the rhythm of the day because we are busy contributing our own cadence to the mix instead of being quiet and listening.

We humans are creatures of rhythm. Even the most primitive peoples make some crude form of drum or other musical instrument. Meaning is communicated between individuals by varying rhythm. Focus on one rhythm for too long and it will become what we call “monotonous” and boring. We need constant variety in our intake of daily rhythms to remain content and happy. Who wants to get into a rut?

Friends with "Benefits"

2010-09-15T12:39:00.000-07:00

Yes! I do watch "The View" from time to time. Being a man in this world, I figure I can use all the insight about women I can acquire.

One episode was interesting because Whoopi Goldberg asked a question of the whole panel, "What do you think about this new trend in relationships known as having friends with benefits?"

You say you are not familiar with the trend, that you don't know how the expression translates in common language? I'm sure you are not alone. I had heard of it before and I did have a tenuous grasp of its definition.

Basically what it means is a certain type of male/female relationship...WAIT!
Am I putting limits on the definition of the practice? I suppose it could be female/female or male/male in today's world and few would consider it weird or strange or outside the limits of social acceptability. Today is seems there are no limits when it comes to sexual relationships.

Friends with benefits is a way of expressing a certain relationship in which two individuals of any gender combination interact with one another in a variety of ways without have any strings attached. In other words, there's no commitment required of either party. NOW that's what I call real friends.

The women on The View arrived at the conclusion that it was a good thing for anyone into that sort of relationship. I figure most men would just eat it up, accept its establishment with great zeal and gusto. Actually, it's what many men have been seeking for eons and simply could not talk any woman into.

There no commitment...absolutely NONE. There's no living together, no obligation felt that requires one to call or visit or write or email or instant message or text message or use any form of modern communications. You simply call or visit when it is convenient for both parties and end up doing whatever is agreeable between the two. You can go out to eat (each pays) or take in a movie or just hang out till one or the other has all they need at the time and then you go on your merry way until the next time the two feel the need to come together again.

Call me a serial skeptic but I need to see such a relationship in action before I can judge if it is actually possible and will grow in participation or acceptance by the masses. As I said before, most men would welcome such an arrangement with open arms. Its the woman's role in such a friendship that I have trouble accepting as do-able. I don't know of any such modern thinking woman yet. I'd like to meet one just to see how it feels to say I know such a person. Talk about equality! Man! That would be it to the maximum.

No gifts or flowers to buy. No obligation to purchase Birthday cards or gifts, no Christmas presents to exchange. No candy, no lingerie, etc. Just two people enjoying the company of and bodies of the other in any way that is agreeable for the moment. You can bump uglies, do the horizontal mambo (add your own sexual innuendo here) and think nothing of it afterward other than both of you were just being "Friendly" in your own special way.

What I'd like to know is where was this kind of thinking when I was a young man? I'd have never made it this far with all that going on in my life.

Sooo...What do you think readers?

Sharing an email rant

2010-09-15T12:31:00.000-07:00

What follows here is an email I received from a nephew whom someone has gotten stirred up. I may not agree with every word he had to say but I will defend to the death his right to express himself in public and become an enabler by publishing it here.

"Are we fighting a war on terror or aren't we? Was it or was it not started by Islamic people who brought it to our shores on September 11, 2001?

Were people from all over the world, mostly Americans, not brutally murdered that day, in downtown Manhattan , across the Potomac from our nation's capitol and in a field in Pennsylvania?

Did nearly three thousand men, women and children die a horrible, burning or crushing death that day, or didn't they?

And I'm supposed to care that a copy of the Koran was "desecrated" when an overworked American soldier kicked it or got it wet?...Well, I don't. I don't care at all.

I'll start caring when Osama bin Laden turns himself in and repents for incinerating all those innocent people on 9/11.

I'll care about the Koran when the fanatics in the Middle East start caring about the Holy Bible, the mere possession of which is a crime in Saudi Arabia .

I'll care when these thugs tell the world they are sorry for hacking off Nick Berg's head while Berg screamed through his gurgling slashed throat.

I'll care when the cowardly so-called "insurgents" in Iraq come out and fight like men instead of disrespecting their own religion by hiding in mosques.

I'll care when the mindless zealots who blow themselves up in search of nirvana care about the innocent children within range of their suicide bombs.

I'll care when the American media stops pretending that their First Amendment liberties are somehow derived from international law instead of the United States Constitution's Bill of Rights.

In the meantime, when I hear a story about a brave marine roughing up an Iraqi terrorist to obtain information, know this: I don't care.

When I see a fuzzy photo of a pile of naked Iraqi prisoners who have been humiliated in what amounts to a college-hazing incident, rest assured: I don't care.

When I see a wounded terrorist get shot in the head when he is told not to move because he might be booby-trapped, you can take it to the bank: I don't care.

When I hear that a prisoner, who was issued a Koran and a prayer mat, and fed "special" food that is paid for by my tax dollars, is complaining that his holy book is being "mishandled," you can absolutely believe in your heart of hearts: I don't care.

And oh, by the way, I've noticed that sometimes it's spelled "Koran" and other times "Quran." Well, Jimmy Crack Corn and-you guessed it-I don't care !!

If you agree with this viewpoint, pass this on t o all your E-mail friends. Sooner or later, it'll get to the people responsible for this ridiculous behavior!

If you don't agree, then by all means hit the delete button. Should you choose the latter, then please don't complain when more atrocities committed by radical Muslims happen here in our great Country!

And may I add:
"Some people spend an entire lifetime wondering if they made a difference in the world. But, the Marines don't have that problem" -- Ronald Reagan

I have another quote that I would like to add AND.......I hope you forward all this.

"If we ever forget that we're One Nation Under God, then we will be a nation gone under." Also by.. Ronald Reagan

One last thought for the day:

In case we find ourselves starting to believe all the Anti-American sentiment and negativity, we should remember England's Prime Minister Tony Blair's words during a recent interview. When asked by one of his Parliament members why he believes so much in America, he said: "A simple way to take measure of a country is to look at how many want in.. And how many want out."

Only two defining forces have ever offered to die for you:
1. Jesus Christ
2. The American G. I.
Important for us all!!!!
One died for your soul, the other for your freedom.

YOU MIGHT WANT TO PASS THIS ON,
AS MANY SEEM TO FORGET BOTH OF THEM. AMEN.

Example of way too much information at one time

2010-09-03T07:49:00.000-07:00

Is this why we spend so many of our hard-earned dollars on large, flat-screen televisions or pay so much for cable?

How can anyone absorb it all at the same time?

Can you do it?

In the displayed configuration of a screen shot seen here, my 32 inch LED TV screen is reduced to approximately one third of the usable surface. Does anyone actually perceive anything positive from all we see here?

Why is it necessary to display the radar image of hurricane Earl over the top of the main topic image you see in the background? Can anyone comprehend all that is going on here?

I'm sick of it but I don't know how to even begin to do something about it.

Anyone out there got any suggestions besides get rid of that set and all that goes with it and save yourself a lot of money at the same time?

Coincidence of all coincidences

2010-08-27T16:59:00.001-07:00

Friday morning, August 8th, 2010.

I’m taking a brief nap on the couch in the living room. It is so quiet you could have heard a mouse pass gas if one had been nearby and had passed gas.
Suddenly, the door bell rang and Jenny came charging from wherever she had been at the moment of bell ringing. I got up slowly and walked to the front door. When I opened it and talked Jenny into backing off a few feet and toning down her attack attitude just a smidge, there was this guy with dark sunglasses on standing there.
He began his little practiced speech. Said he was the Pastor of The Northern Kentucky Baptist Church and he was going around our neighborhood inviting everyone to come visit their church. As I stated, I had been taking a nap and the old brain doesn’t recover as quickly as it once did. I noticed nothing unusual about his statement at that time. He asked if I had a home church. I assured him that I did. I told him the name of my church and where it was located and at the same time told him that I had been a born again believer for going on 27 years now.
He must have been satisfied with my explanation, for I sensed that he was just about to turn and leave. That’s when I asked him exactly where his church was located. As soon as he began to answer my question, the truth of it all hit me like a sledgehammer. I do believe this was my first experience at being God-Smacked.

I know, God Smacked is the name of a band or some such other group of entertainers, but to me, it felt as if God Himself had laid the back of His hand to my cheek.

I mentally supposed that this Man of God must have thought that I was having a senior moment because I paused and was thoughtfully distracted for such a long span of time. I had a few things I needed to share with him, so I invited him to enter our home and sit for spell. He declined my invitation explaining that his time was short and he needed to keep moving.

So, I stepped out onto our front stoop, reached out my hand and he politely shook it. Then I began to explain how I was guided to God’s house that fateful, chilly spring morning over 27 years ago. I just showed up, at his church, on the very first Sunday that any official meeting had been held in the newly completed building. It was my one and only visit there. I had gone with one purpose in mind and that was to offer up to God, what remained of my life, if He had any need of it. It was His, to be used as He saw fit if He would only accept my full confession of guilt and forgive me of my previous 43 years of sinful living.

The full, lengthy, complete story can be read HERE. It will take some time to peruse if you so choose. I hope you will.

I could tell, the man was as shocked as I was that God had brought us face to face after all those years had passed. He suggested that the least I could do is come by some time and share my story with the congregation. I may just do that.

Me and Brer Rabbit

2010-08-20T18:16:00.001-07:00

I don’t know what’s going on around here lately. I’ve had two run-ins with wild Rabbits within three days.

In this latest one, Maureen had walked out through the garage with our daughter to see her off, heading for her own home. It’s a tradition. Simply MUST be done that way. Suddenly Maureen rushed into the kitchen, telling me that I need to come out into the garage and see if I could find whatever it was that came into the garage. He knew something was there. She didn’t see it … she heard it clattering around in the things I had stored under the work bench. Both of us searched cautiously, poking a broom into this corner and that dark hole way back under the bench. We didn’t see or hear anything unusual while doing so. I believe I talked Maureen into believing it was only her imagination.

Funny, how something like that never quite leaves your mind. It always there, hovering in the background. One time I went out to the garage and noticed that the traction mat I had placed on the floor for Jenny to land on as she jumped down from the car was askew. It looked like something had been on it and got frightened by something and had spun it’s wheels a bit, causing the mat to hump up in three places due to the force being applied to fleeing limbs. I straightened it back up before going inside. The next time I came out, I noticed two or three small, round object scattered about on that same mat. I thought at the time that they looked a lot like Rabbit poop.

The next morning was uneventful. Then, that afternoon I opened the garage door and sitting there, looking me right in the eyes was a small Rabbit. It dashed under the car. I called Maureen to tell her that she was right. There was something in the garage that shouldn’t be there. I told her it was a small Rabbit and she should come out and she if we two could chase it back out the open garage door.

I knelt down and peered under the car. There it was, all huddled up against the right, front tire. I picked up the closest thing to me that I could reach under the car with. Maureen picked up a broom. Together we thrust our scary objects under the car and saw something moving toward the open door. I hurried outside, just in time to see it stop near our neighbor’s driveway. It chewed off some weed leaves then bound away, out of sight. Of course it was hungry and thirsty too I’d bet. There’s very little for a Rabbit to eat or drink in our garage.

I never imagined that a critter as timid as a wild, young Rabbit would ever dart into a place like a garage. It was young and inexperienced I supposed. That the only way I could explain it to myself.

OK! That’s enough wild life adventures for anyone.

The short story about the "Maureen Event"

2010-08-11T09:38:00.000-07:00

Thought I would catch you up on Maureen's sudden collapse, hospital stay and return home.

We thought we were about to lose Maureen for sure last Saturday night around ten o'clock. I climbed the stairs to go to the bathroom and discovered Maureen there, leaning on the sink and fighting for every breath. All she could get out was "I can't breathe!" I immediately called 911. I thought the whole neighborhood would surely have noticed the ambulance sitting on our street and wonder who was in need of help, but no one seemed interested the next day. The ambulance arrived about five minutes after I called them. It was so scary for Gail and I because it was Deja Vu. The night that Ramona passed away, she displayed the exact same symptoms. She didn't make it to the hospital.

When the EMT' arrived and started toward the front door, I begged them not to let my wife die on the way to the hospital like my sister-in-law did some years back. They assured me that no one was dying on their watch. Gladly, that brag held true. Maureen did get there alive but still fighting for every breathe, only this time, she had oxygen to breathe when she could inhale.

The next time we saw her, she was having a machine breathe for her and she was heavily sedated but evidently not heavily enough, because she struggled against the restraints and constantly tried to regain consciousness through her own will-power.

The problem was not her heart, we were told after one heart doctor checked her and all relevant tests out. She WAS NOT having a heart attack.
The normal enzymes found in the blood after a heart attack were NOT there and after an Angiogram, they found no heart artery blockages of any consequence. All the doctors were perplexed. The could not understand how she was experiencing so much pulmonary edema, fluid build up in the lungs nor could they determine the cause of her heart not pumping as powerfully as it should. It pointed to heart failure and yet, they were not certain why.

So there she laid, large breathing tube in her mouth, oxygen hose under her nose, a catheter in her bladder and who knows how many IV's in her arms and hands, then there was that large hole in her femeral artery with the special plug type bandage holding the blood back while the artery closed up well enough to remove it. They used meds to force the liquids out of her lungs and meds to lower her blood pressure and aid her heart in its pumping and a number of other meds to keeps all systems going. It was touch and go there for a while. Kellie, Gail and I were almost living at the hospital while Maureen was in MICU. After she began to improve, they moved her to a regular room on the first floor and only then did we feel she would survive until we returned after some rest and self-maintenance at home. Someone had to take care of Jenny.

They still are not sure what caused all this to happen. One or two doctors believe that it may be connected to the last two days Maureen worked, where she may have been exposed to various types of dust and mold contaminants, whose affect may have been aided by a lack of proper air-conditioning and ventilation.

I can't say how many people and various church groups were praying for Maureen but any believer could see God's hand at work in this event.

Maureen shouldn't have survived she was told by several technicians and hospital staff. They we all surprised to see her again after a couple days.
She shouldn't have recovered as quickly as she did and she certainly shouldn't be going home on Tuesday, and yet, she was.

Here's another weird discovery: All these past years, it has been believed by many medical people, that Maureen has always had something called Mitral valve prolapse, a condition in which the mitral valve does not close properly, thus allowing blood to flow back where it should not be flowing. That, they say was the reason Maureen's heart always beat faster than a "normal" heart. During this hospital stay, she had an echo-cardiogram that showed her mitral valve was working perfectly. They did say that it "could be" that one of the two bundles of controlling nerves at the top of her heart was not working as well as it should and that's the cause of her fast heart rate. They described her heart as over-all weaker than it should be for unknown reasons. They also said that it may require them to install a pacemaker with a defibrillator in it if these meds don't work the way they are hoping. Namely that the ace inhibitors and beta blockers will cause her heart to recover some of its missing pumping power by reducing Blood pressure and heart rate, thereby reducing the load and stress on the muscles and allowing them to recover over time.

I know that we are all glad to have Maureen back at home where WE can care for her. We placed her in God's hands, trusting that her full recovery IS HIS WILL. I personally, do not believe there is such a thing as a small miracle. I also believe that miracles have occurred during this event. Praise God!

The Dog Days of summer are upon us

2010-08-02T08:30:00.000-07:00

Image via Wikipedia

It is August 2, 2010 and I have only one more ripe tomato left for now. The July "glut" is over with and now I can only wait for that mass of beautiful, green tomatoes to go from green to red or whatever color "ripe" represents in this unusual variety.

The harvest so far has been bountiful and delicious. I've shared it with anyone that expressed a desire for some. Several of the tomatoes I've picked and shared weighed more than a pound and a quarter. Maureen weighed some on the scales where she works. We were curious and wanted to be accurate whenever we bragged about the size of this year's crop.

Sorry! I'm facing a shortage and my giving will be curtailed for a while. I have a three pound tub of cottage cheese just begging for a companion. Hold on! They're coming.

Salt of the earth and a danger to everyone, even herself

2010-08-02T08:16:00.000-07:00

Maureen and I went to see Salt, the movie last Friday afternoon.

It was very, very good. Maureen and I both agreed on it.

Good News: it ended in such a way as to make a sequel or two possible. Perhaps they will turn it into a TV series. I'd watch it!

This is no rumor but it's news worthy

2010-08-02T08:12:00.000-07:00

8/2/2010 early AM.

I was watching "The Imus in the morning show on the Fox network"

Don Imus' brother, Fred Imus was on the phone talking with Don and us.

Fred said he had an answer for the Illegal Immigrant problem our country is dealing with. He suggested that placing a bounty on them of $100 per head would do the job. It worked for Mountain Lions, Wolves and other vermin pests in the past, it will work for this one too.

Now don't shoot the messenger. I'm just reporting what I saw and heard.

What do you think? Would it work?

Giant Cicada killing Wasps (Sand Hornets)

2010-07-29T14:42:00.000-07:00

Image via Wikipedia

An educational entry brought to you by the curious mind of an Old Dude who just happens to like sharing his knowledge.

Most of us have seen these giant insects at some time. You WILL remember if you have because they have a way of causing fear for most people. Few people REALLY like any kind of bug but when they are of this size and carry a small sword for a stinger, they are especially fearful and dreaded.

It would seem that the level of fear and the legend surrounding certain insects is proportional to their physical size. I’ve known about these creatures for most of my life but only now have I had reason to desire to learn more about them. I’ve got all this folklore stored away in my memory concerning these Hornets. None of it can be substantiated. You may have heard horror stories about their legendary strength and the power of their sting. Some people will attest to the fact that a full-grown adult human has been knocked off their feet when struck by one. Others will swear that they witnessed someone’s hand swell to three times its size after accidentally grabbing one while it sat motionless on something they intended to pick up. Yet, unless you are very allergic to their venom, I doubt most of the stories I’ve heard about them are accurate.

For most of us, a two-inch long bug of any kind is one we would rather not encounter at anytime. Speaking only for myself, I would not like to find out first-hand if any of the folklore is true. I sit here right now with three very large red spots on my right shoulder and back where some tiny mosquitoes bit me during the last day or two. I can’t see them but the wife tells me they are large and angry looking. I can tell you that they itch like crazy. I had her put some anti-itch ointment on them before she left for work today and they are still about to drive me nuts. It’s a good thing I can’t reach them with my hand or they would be open wounds by now. I’ve taken some Benadryl too but nothing seems to be helping so far.

Tuesday at work on the golf course, I came upon a large sand trap in front of number eight green. It is filled with starkly white sand, so of course the mass of darker beige mounds scattered throughout it caught my attention. I knew what they were right away even before I noticed the first Hornet struggling with what I have always called a “Jar Fly” but more accurately they are Cicadas, very large Cicadas. Observing the scene more closely, I noticed a number of dead Cicadas lying here and there around the bunker. I wondered why that was. It only took a short period of searching through my vast storehouse of knowledge before I came up with the explanation. These wasps capture these Cicadas for a very specific purpose. They are intended as “food” for their offspring after they have hatched. A DEAD Cicada simply will not do. It MUST be alive when the eggs hatch and the larvae begin to feed upon them. It would appear that even Hornets have trouble dispensing just the right amount of venom into their prey. A drop too much and the Cicada will die and become useless for their purpose. Thus, what I observed was rejected, dead Cicadas. This has been going on for some time because at one end of the bunker there was possibly hundreds of dead Cicadas. They had been piled up in that spot by the operator of the small machines that are used to rake the bunkers a few times each week. That is the end of the bunker that the operator uses to enter and exit said bunker. As the job is completed, the operator will raise the rake after exiting the bunker, leaving the Cicadas behind just off the edge in the grass.

Being the responsible, concerned employee that I am, I reported the situation to the pro-shop. I could see some player trying to hit his ball out of that bunker and being attacked by several of those Hornets who were only defending their nests. According to the person who wrote the article on these creatures, that fear is unsupported by fact. Turns out that only the females of the species have a stinger and they are not in the habit of defending their nests. They evidently are to preoccupied with their reproduction process to bother. That’s the male’s job and get this; males of the species DO NOT have stingers. How weird is that? As with most males, the bark is worse than the bite. However, they are still convincing defenders of the nests when it comes to most humans. Being dive-bombed and otherwise threatened by the stinger-less males usually does the trick.

During my period of observations that day, I did notice one Hornet setting off to the side of the bunker, resting on a flattened out down Dandelion. He would sit there until something or someone came close enough to be a threat and then he went into action. Yes! I supposed it was a male because he was the only one serving in that capacity. It’s a good thing I had the windshield up on my golf cart. I got too close at one time and that Hornet repeatedly crashed into my windshield. It may be true that males do not have stingers, but in my mind, I could hear his venomous dagger slashing away at the acrylic material. He was a good imposter!

At the time I reported the situation to the pro-shop they explained that everyone in the maintenance crew had left for the day. All that could be done for now was to warn everyone I encountered on the course to be aware of the Hornets. I talked with one of the other Rangers on duty and he seemed interested. We drove out to the bunker and after surveying the situation, he took a hand rake and got right into the bunker with the Hornets and proceeded to cover over and fill up all the nest sights. Where were all the patrolling male Hornets? Why weren’t they attacking this invader of their domain? I’m sorry, but they don’t pay me enough to do what he was doing. He escaped unscathed, BUT if that had been me, I probably would be lumpy by now with worse things than mosquito bites. I should be saying things like “My Mommy didn’t raise no fools” right about now but that could be taken the wrong way. I don’t know if Joe reads my diary or not. Some men are brave and some are foolhardy, I am neither! I say live and let live so long as they don’t enter into my home. Hornets have to survive too and they’ve been doing just that for much longer than I have been on this earth.

If you’ve enjoyed this kind of entry, please let me know. I can do reports on other forms of life too. I encounter lots of it while on my job. Who knows; we all might learn something?

Another sign of the times

2010-07-27T04:43:00.000-07:00

Image via Wikipedia

Do the name "Bell, California" mean anything to ya? If not, it should.
It's all over the news media and rightly so.

These way too smart phones

2010-07-15T11:42:00.000-07:00

Today, the State of Kentucky will begin to enforce a ban on using telephones while driving. I believe they will focus on anyone "texting" while driving first. After that, my own wish is that they continue on to ban the presence of a cell phone within reach of any driver. I wish that because I know how weak willed most people are when it comes to cell phones. If it rings while they are behind the wheel, they will do everything in their power to find out whom is calling them.

I was shocked to hear the statistics associated with "distracted driving" in our state. All those deaths and injuries ... and for what? A senseless text message that doesn't matter one iota in the day to day life of anyone ... not really.

While I was thinking about cell phones, I was also amazed at the advancement of the technology. What are they going to come up with next? Considering all that is available to aid one with making phone calls while driving, I find it hard to understand why anyone has the need to do all that texting while driving.

I have a cell phone. Isn't that a shocking confession? It is in the center console of my car. It's there for emergencies only. I never have it on. That way, no one can call me and even tempt me to answer it. I have however, gotten myself a special "jack" that I can plug into my phone and use it hands-free if I want to. Maureen uses it now and then when we are in the car together and she's a passenger at the time. Both of our phones have voice recognition. I checked the feature out yesterday while my car was parked in our driveway. I only have to say "Call so and so" and the phone will dial the number and I can hear the person I'm calling through my car's radio speakers. During the test, I happened to think about a person I might try to contact. In my mind was the fact that he is such an asshole, I don't know why I have anything at all to do with him. So, with that thought on my mind, when I attempted to speak the command to my phone, I inadvertently said "Call The Asshole!" Don't you know that my way too smart phone tried to call five people at the same time. It really is amazing.

The perfect post for our country’s Birthday celebration

2010-07-03T06:52:00.001-07:00

July 4th, 2010
Original composition written in Sept, 1994

Today, my periods of relaxation have been occupied with thoughts about our country, its' involvement in Haiti, the subsiding circumstances which move us away from the cold war, Bosnia, Somalia, Cuba, the masses of refugees we hold in internment camps, and just about any topic which has made headlines in the media. It seems most of the third world countries and a good portion of developed countries look to us for help of one kind or another.
This morning, I heard a young soldier on duty in Haiti, state that he did not like the ideal of being the world's police force and I found myself silently agreeing with his opinion. How can we hope to police the rest of the world when our own society is in such a mess? I can't help but think of our founding fathers at a time such as this. I read some of the words they wrote as they proclaimed the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness and know an inner surge of patriotism which swells my spirit to heart bursting limits. What vision those dedicated men had, how unselfish were their motives. I can't help but wonder; what would they have to say about our country as it is today?
Those men gave all to lay down a foundation upon which this country could be built. The cornerstone of that foundation was GOD. They dug deep into their own souls to ensure that its foundation was built upon the solid bedrock of His established truths, His Statutes, His Commandments, and His Love.
That foundation is still there, massive and strong as ever. It is embedded deeply into this sacred ground we call home, but the structure which rests upon it does not resemble the structure those great men saw in their visions. The debris of the original structure lays scattered about or heaped in a great pile, like so much unwanted refuse. It was replaced with something "Better", "Bigger", "More Modern". Those who depend upon that original foundation for support are not even aware of its boundaries, its limitations. The government, which rests upon it today, is too big; so big that is has become unstable, like a pyramid built up side down, balanced on its point, braced by inflated dollars and nuclear might.
If the citizens of this great country could only bring themselves to pause for a short time, in the midst of their hustle and bustle, clear away the debris and clutter which is all around them, and look at the foundation upon which their country was built, they would see that the present form of their government does not fit that foundation. It has grown beyond the perimeter, expanded too far, hastily erected and shaky at best.
Our country's original foundation was never meant to be that flexible. It will not conform to the schemes and desires of ungodly leaders. Its cornerstone is, and always has been GOD. Its main supporting columns are freedom, liberty, loyalty, and patriotism. There have been many attempts to undermine and weaken it, but it still bears up under the weight. The soil around it has been drenched with the blood of its fighting men and piled high with the carcasses of millions of unborn children, and somehow, it still holds up.
Some men have tried to infiltrate it central core, its heart, and gnaw away at its substance, but God's grace fills in the cavity they have eaten away, leaving it stronger than before.
There is no security beyond the limits of ones foundation. We must stay centered within its boundaries and build upward, toward Heaven. There are no vertical limits so long as we look up to GOD.
Clarence Bowles

The need for love

2010-06-28T09:16:00.001-07:00

Trembling hands reach out to a passing stranger, then quickly withdraw, the fear of pain checking them in mid-air.

Desperate eyes plead silently for acceptance and fear hopes no one will notice.

I hear myself speak bold words and my heart turns away at her unexpected, friendly response.

Would fate deal another painful stroke to my battered EGO, or is this the answer to my heart's prayer?

I feel old, long-dead emotions stir within and hope surges with new life.

Her face glows with the need of a companion and I wonder if it is a reflection from my own emanations.

Cruel seems life, to those seeking love, and yet, love IS the reward of a determined heart.

Endless is desire, relentless is the need, but honesty is a taskmaster whose demands seem all but impossible.

I have walked the dark, lonely corridors of deep depression; must I share that agony with another?

Possibly, her journey through life was more difficult than my own. Is pain lessened if borne by two souls, or is it multiplied by two?

I offer a half-hearted ear and thankfully, she is hesitant to pour out the bitterness which has been dammed up in her heart by regret.

Her tongue is not sharp and vindictive, but forgiving. She bears some portion of guilt and tears pool up in the corners of her eyes and then vanish away, hidden from the world like most of her painful memories.

The flush of embarrassment is upon her cheeks but I dash in and rescue her pride with a secret admittance of some long ago hurt and see her cringe at the familiar realization of a forgotten truth.

Pain is not prejudiced in its' affliction. It touches the naked nerve endings of any caring heart, tearing away at the foundations of life, caring not if life's dreams are thrown to the ground and scattered about in ones frenzied dash to escape their tormentor.

The smoke of ruin has stung the eyes which now gaze across a tiny table and each one dares to believe they see a flicker of hope's flame in the others.

Words, like fencing foils, parry and thrust at a safe distance, not to inflict a lethal lunge, but to search out sensitivity and areas where wounds are not yet healed.

A soothing ointment of caring concern is applied by a verbal swab and each, over time, will nurse the other to emotional recovery.

One does not eagerly re-engage the mortal enemy of every heart, but watches for the response of welcome, alert for an ambush from the cover of feigned affection.

Two broken hearts, brought together by unseen forces, can sometimes become fused into one. Scar tissue, stronger than life's formidable foes, withstand any onslaught they may face together, until true love erases every trace of what once was.

Love does not proclaim its existence; it simply IS, and WAS, and always WILL BE.

Written by Clarence Bowles for a friend, who was beginning a new relationship and was experiencing terrible stress due to many other failed relationships.

A place called “Cookies”

2010-06-08T08:56:00.001-07:00

This is Cookie’s Diner as viewed from the parking lot entrance. I took this picture today while having breakfast there. I know … the parking lot does not look very full. That’s very unusual for any weekday morning. No one was more surprised than myself to witness it.

If you live near northern Kentucky, or may be visiting the Tri-State area (OKI) anytime soon, if at all possible, stop in at Cookie’s for breakfast or lunch. The diner does not do dinner. Cookies rolls up the blacktop around one-thirty in the afternoon. She starts early; exact time undetermined. Somewhere around five or six o’clock I think.

The diner is located near the intersection of Mt. Zion Road and State Route 25 in Kenton, County Kentucky. Get off the Mt. Zion Road exit if you are on Interstate I-75 going north or south. If south, turn left from the off ramp and vise-versa if you are heading north toward Cincinnati, Ohio. When you get to SR 25 make a left and Cookie’s will be a few hundred feet there on the left side. When she’s busy, parking space is at a premium. She is working on making more parking space. The little place can be humming when the rush is on.

Judging by my experience this morning, Tuesday morning between seven-thirty and eight o’clock is a good time to drop by.

The food is great, the prices are right, best that can be found around here in my opinion, and the service is fast and friendly. The menu is flexible. What I mean by that is, if you don’t see what you want, ask Cookie about it. She can create many great dishes if it’s nothing exotic. Simple food, prepared and served extraordinarily. You will be satisfied when you pay the check. Take my word for it. Trust me!

Here’s a picture of Cookie herself:

That’s my tea she’s serving. See that smile? I told you!

A quote to note and live by

2010-06-06T05:32:00.001-07:00

Read and meditate on this quote from Mother Theresa:

There should be less talk; a preaching point is not a meeting point. What do you do then? Take a broom and clean someone's house. That says enough.

People are often unreasonable, illogical, and self-centered;

Forgive them anyway.

If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives;

Be kind anyway.

If you are successful you will win some false friends and true enemies;

Succeed anyway.

If you are honest and frank, people may cheat you;

Be honest and frank anyway.

What you spend years building, someone could destroy overnight;

Build anyway.

If you find serenity and happiness, they may be jealous;

Be happy anyway.

The good you do today, people will often forget tomorrow;

Do good anyway.

Give the world the best you have, and it may never be enough;

Give the world the best you've got anyway

You see, in the final analysis, it is between you and God; it was never between you and them anyway.

I borrowed the above from a friend – Steve Rust

If you like this, thank him at this webpage.

Around the old homestead 2010

2010-05-07T10:54:00.000-07:00

There's a front heading our way, promising high winds and possible strong storms. I finished up two days of yard work and thought the old place looked very nice afterward. So, before the storms hit and change things the way mother nature desires them to be, I decided to get the camera and take a selection of snapshots to share with the rest of the world on my blog.

If you click on the above photo you should be taken to my web-albums and the other eighteen snapshots. Hope you have the time and inclination to look around a bit.

A totally complete building project

2010-04-30T13:03:00.001-07:00

The last time I checked, I had lost six pounds. For me that’s unbelievable. I chalked it up to all those days I didn’t stop for lunch or hardly anything else. I did well just to drag myself in the house in the evening to lay down until I recuperated enough energy to clean my nasty body up, get something to eat and retire for the day around eight-thirty.

It’s a good kind of weary. I earned the right to be tired.

It took me three days to finish the paint job. First day I put on the primer. Second day I did the top coat and the third day I did the trim and install all the door hardware. The hardware took longer than I supposed it might. Just looking at the above image you may ask “WHY?” There’s more than a simple hasp involved. I had that on before I applied the primer. I’ve removed it twice during the paint job. There are three (3) slide bolt type fastening devices also. Two at the top of each door to hold it open in the wind and one at the bottom of the outermost door to hold it against a solid internal stop-block due to some warping of the materials. As Kevin says … “It’s wood man … what do you expect?”

Now I can focus on improvements to the inside. I’ll install some shelves and pegboard segments but the big job is going to be mounting two extremely large and heavy used doors as work tables that fold upward and are stored out of the way when not in use. That was Kevin’s idea and I concurred. It was great to see all our combined ideas come to fruition. There you go Kevin! I managed to use both those new words in this paragraph.

I’ll add three more snapshots of the shed below here and call it an entry for today.

It is what it is and it is mostly wood

2010-04-16T14:43:00.000-07:00

Last Monday, Kevin, my nephew and I began the construction of my new storage shed out in the back yard. The building permit describes it as an 8 X 12 X 9 out building.

It has been four days since then and it is raining today. A day of rest for the weary. There was much fretting, planning and discussion as we began and it didn't let up a whole lot after that. We still confuse one another as we proceed.

A whole lot of sweat and physical labor filled the days between then and this picture of the shed on the 4th day.

The ladies of the house did everything they could for us as we worked. We were fed breakfast and lunch most days and on one day we even had dinner with my daughters after their day on the job.

Now comes the difficult stuff ... the detailed finish work we have planned. This shed will have soffits to permit the structure to breath without allowing access by most insects and other unwanted creatures. It will also have trim boards with contrasting color ... supposedly the same color scheme as our home. We will see about that one!

Kevin and I are proud of all that has been accomplished thus far. Giving credit where credit is due, Kevin has done the Lion's share of the work. My contribution is akin to sweat equity, limited by my age and agility. I think I have been a lot of help to him.

There is a sequence of photos taken at the end of each day's work. They may be viewed by clicking on this active link to my web albums. We simply are not sure what we are going to do about the type of door we want. Kevin suggested one that slides like some of the old barn doors we've seen. It's either that or changing from the special concrete siding (which is much too heavy to be used in hinged doors) and backing some look alike wood siding with half inch plywood and a 2 X 4 frame behind that which can be hinged.

I'll try to remember to post a picture or two of the finished product. I really believe that Kevin will receive many contracts from others after they stop by and see his handiwork. Kevin has way too many skills for any one man. To me he's not old enough to have had that much experience in all the fields he's so good in. How does he do it?

Too many Masters

2010-04-09T08:11:00.000-07:00

Look! Playing the Masters traditional golf course is not that easy.
And yet ... yesterday, a number of regular tour players seemed to disagree with that statement. All kinds of records must have been broken but I am not privy to such stats or I would list them here.

Why am I not surprised by the reception Tiger Woods received on his return to the tour after a five month absence? What I am surprised at is how well Tiger played. I saw no evidence of "rust." Then again ... he was not the only one who played beyond "the norm" for the record book.

I watched the telecast ... the whole thing, from three o'clock to the end.

The course at Agusta, Georgia is the most beautifully scenic spot on earth in my opinion. That aspect of the television broadcast simply makes the normally dull and boring sport bearable. My! but I'd love to go there and see it in person but I know even as I write that ... it just isn't going to happen.

My sister-in-law and I both play Fantasy Golf on the Internet. She is kicking my backside at the moment. I doubt either of us is about to win any prizes doing it; not after seeing how high some people are scoring.

There are three more days of The Masters remaining. The Lord willing, I will be right there in front of my TV during every minute. I just love The Masters.

A public service announcement

2010-04-09T07:49:00.000-07:00

If you are contemplating a move to San Antonio, Texas anytime in the future, here's one of the things you are going to need when you get there ... A Good Mechanic. So, please give this man a call or pay him a visit: at this website.

Tell him Gordon sent you. He will know who that is. Thanks!

Clean Bill of Health?

2010-03-22T07:56:00.001-07:00

I’ve heard the old saying “The proposed project got a clean bill of health from the board of directors” etc.

I believed I knew what was meant when anyone used that particular phrase.
Today I am wondering if the Health Care Reform Bill” that Congress passed with three votes to spare on Sunday isn’t just a little bit “dirty.”

I heard it said this morning that so many lobbyists worked on the behalf of a number of entities that had a dog in the fight, that along the way toward yesterday’s results, each Congress/person was visited by at least eight different Lobbyists who were applying pressure attempting to get them to vote FOR the bill. That comment needs some clarification, for it makes no sense to me for a lobbyist to spend a lot of time trying to persuade any Congress/person whom was already known to be backing said bill. Perhaps that means that in reality every Congress/person NOT known to be backing said bill already received more than eight visits each.

What ever happened to the promise that lobbyists visits to our Congress/persons would be limited? I wonder what the actual “Limit” was set at?

Well! The horses are out of the barn now. I hope they don’t stray too far afield and become difficult to round up. OH! That’s right … those are not really horses.

Also, I doubt that the fact this bill was voted on and passed on A SUNDAY was ever close to being a coincidence. What it was is devoted worshipers of Lord Obama paying homage to him and his commandments. All the rest may be stricken with leprosy.

Giant Tree Tomato Seedlings

2010-03-18T10:50:00.001-07:00

Here you see two trays of Giant Tree Tomato Seedlings that I grew from seeds I saved last fall. It was my first experience at saving my own seeds. Who knew if I was doing it correctly? I watched a video or two about the process and went from there. I stored the seeds in the snack drawer of my refrigerator. They stayed there all winter long. That supposedly simulates the winter season without putting the seeds through the actual experience and exposing them to any number of natural dangers wild seeds are prone to being eaten by.

I didn’t have any idea how good a job I did for a beginner. Let’s say I didn’t have a lot of faith in my efforts … so, when it came time to plant them I added two or three seeds to each compartment, thinking that at least one of them might make it. How wrong I was. Everyone of those seeds sprouted and are now in the maturing process … whatever that entails. I’m learning as I go.

What I do know is that if I got only one viable tomato set from each one of the compartments in the planters I used, I would end up with 108 tomato plants. I believe I can use perhaps ten of them in my garden. Now, what am I going to do with the rest? I will give many of them away to those friends I think will want them. That should leave me with around 50 or so.

I paid $10.00 for six seed containers last year. It was late when I received them in the mail. I watered them and set them out on the patio table under a clear glass cake dish cover. They came up. I waited a while and stuck them in the ground over by my fence where I once had a large rose bush. They amazed me! If I plant ten vines and they do as well as I expect, I should be able to eat tomatoes until New Year’s Day 2012. Of course, I’ll have to do some canning to accomplish it.

Wish me luck.

Migration, suicide or driven out by heavy rains - Earthworm mysteries

2010-03-13T09:49:00.000-08:00

YES! This post is about Earthworms. I know you are interested ... aren't you?

It's almost spring in Kentucky. Temperatures are moderating, precipitation falls in the form of rain and not snow and our earthworms are committing suicide. Well! That's how it appears to me anyhow.

I'm mystified as to the reasons worms do what they do at various times throughout the year. I'm also baffled as to why birds that normally devour every worm they can find, especially Robins, DO NOT seem to like worms that are found crawling around on concrete. Now that's really weird to me. Is it because they are too hard to pick up off the concrete. I know they are because I've tried it a few times myself. Of course, I don't have a sharp beak to use for the job and all that slime those worms have coating them when they are crawling around doesn't help anything either.

I've also considered that it may be that birds other than Woodpecker types do not have a built-in shock absorber mechanism that allows them to pound their head against something hard repeatedly and those type, such as the Robin, could quickly develop a pounding headache which might cause them to forget they are hungry. Like I said ... it's weird. I've observed how Robins go at it as they thrust down into grass and soil to grasp a worm that's trying to escape.

One other thing I've suspected at various times during the year, especially the Spring time, after I've applied "weed and feed" to my yard, that the weed killing aspect of weed and feed could prove to be an irritant or poison to earthworms and their reaction to that is to crawl out onto any concrete nearby where the concentration of harmful chemicals is not as great and where they stand a better chance of survival.

I've often feared that with that many worms lying dead and dried up everywhere one looks, sooner or later we are going to run out of worms and then what would our yards and gardens do? But ... next year ... there they are again, in abundance.

Inspired, blood surging, mind going a mile a minute and my body thinks it’s a good thing.

2010-03-11T05:18:00.001-08:00

Today was one of my favorite kind of days. It was one of those days we wait for all winter long. Mild temps and occasional periods of sunshine. I believe the weather people call it “partly cloudy.”
On days like this, something comes over me and I have this urge to get the tasks on my early spring To-Do List done. After getting Maureen to the bus-stop before six this morning and returning home, the rest of the day was all mine to do with as I saw fit.
I got out the two planting trays I recently purchased and sterilized them using a diluted bleach solution and rinsing them thoroughly. I filled all the compartments with special seed starting mix and wetted that down using a “MIST” setting on the hose nozzle. I allowed them to sit for a time, then rewet them and waited some more. Taking them into the garage, I sat them on the work bench and started planting seeds. The Bell Peppers were first. I had more than enough seeds to plants one half of one of the trays. I used one tiny compartment for planting a Pear seed I saved from a very special Pear I enjoyed last fall. The rest of the trays was planted with the Giant Tree Tomato seeds I so carefully saved from my first test planting last year.
I had clear, plastic covers for the trays, so I placed one on top of the other and sat both behind the door that connects the garage to the kitchen. All those seeds need right now is warmth and moisture.
After that, I tore into the garage, trying to clean up and organize the over-winter clutter and mess in general. I DID achieve some major progress. Believe me, it’s not done yet. I still must get the women involved in the decision process concerning what to get rid of and what MUST stay for them to be happy. It has been a long time since I been able to see that much of my workbench at one time.
I had this little job I swore I would get done ASAP. That was to drive down to Dryridge, Ky to deliver that box of “Cow” themed ceramic figurines to my sister, Julie, who is the collector of such items in our family. Also, I thought I would stop by the little nursery where I had purchased the trays for planting my seeds and drop off the Giant Tree Tomato seeds I had left over. I accomplished both goals. It’s a longer drive than I remembered and I missed a couple of the turns I needed to make and had to back-track to get back on the correct course. The guy at the nursery seemed glad to get the seeds. He said they were very healthy looking and showed much promise for germination. I told him I would stop by and talk about his results with them.
Upon my return home, I got a bite to eat and went back to work in the garage. I managed to return the snow throwing machine back to the small attic storage space above the garage, along with Maureen’s and my own golf bags. I suppose that makes them officially “retired” too, just like myself.
Later, I brought out the patio table and chairs, then I tackled putting back the sliding, screen door for the patio door. I’ll confess, that little job was kicking my butt for a while. Nothing was working the way it should. I got myself into a real job when I decided to exchange the top roller mechanisms for the bottom ones, believing that might be why the door was so difficult to slide. That seemed to help a lot but it’s still not like when it was new. I hate to think about what the real problem with it might be. Those carpenter ants could be undermining the wood support under the door sill, allowing it to sink somewhat. When the door guy first installed that door, he mentioned that I had some ants working the wood in that area. I’ve treated the who area with some very potent poison which I thought had solved the problem. Last year I noticed a “swarm” of ants emerging from a crack alongside the vinyl frame for that door. Could prove to be the harbinger of a disaster heading my way. Lord! I hope not.
I was simply worn-out by the time I went to pick Maureen up at the bus stop. I messed around out there for a while before dinner was ready. I didn’t accomplish a whole lot more before I called it quits for the day. I pulled the car back into the garage and locked up. There’s always tomorrow.

Fuming and stewing - again

2010-03-01T10:00:00.000-08:00

I can only assume, because I feel like this also happened to me personally, whenever I hear about such an injustice, I am instantly beside myself and the two of us look at one another and only get more and more upset and stew all the more.

I was watching Fox and Friends with Maureen this morning when THIS STORY WAS REPORTED. I couldn't see the TV screen after that because the curtain of steam that was rising before my eyes blocked my view. This kind of stuff is pure evil.

Thirty-five years on the job. Not one negative entry in her personnel file, and this top paid nurse was discharged because she failed to come in to work on one of the worse days of the recent storms which has plagued the New York area.

Read the story by using the link above and judge for yourself if this action is FAIR.

What's up! In my opinion, the hospital management saw an opportunity to cull the higher paid staff and cut a few head out of the herd for slaughter, thereby reducing their bottom line. As the story goes, some 250 employees failed to come in on the same day this one long-time staffer didn't show-up for work. So, why was she and a small group of other staff members led to the chopping block and made an example of?

I'm done now. Hope you will read about it and commiserate with me on the matter.
Something needs to be done about this and I suspect that it might ... but in the mean time, what are those few supposed to do?

Julie Kae Sings My Fair Lady

2010-03-01T09:35:00.001-08:00

Julie Kae Sings My Fair Lady

Posted using ShareThis

Time to “Party” seriously

2010-02-22T06:16:00.001-08:00

Tea-party is a title the media has utilized to the maximum of late. It appears that either they or those responsible for organizing these frequent "rallies" is leaning toward adopting the title, trying to establish it as "official."

I would like to submit to everyone the name "Third Party." It could still be referred to as the "T - Party" if some insist on continuing to use the original tagline hoping to eliminate confusion.

Personally, I believe it is time to do something to change our present political situation and problems. I suppose any course of action would function best if it began as a grassroots movement among the nation's voters. It does seem to already have that benefit going for it. I don't know what else anyone could call it besides "grassroots." It sprang up out of nowhere and began to grow, nourished by desperation, hopelessness and a collective anger.

I certainly am no political expert. I suppose I too am hopeless, desperate and angry about what I see going on in Washington. I have been for a long time now.

The Republicans and Democrats have had things their way for much too long. I am also aware of some other smaller party factions that have trying to get their foot in the proverbial door of the Whitehouse but so far, it isn't working. What this country needs is a real Third - Party; one with teeth and support from all those voters who are also sick and tired of the other two party system participants currently in power. That IS what the hubbub is all about you know? POWER!

Staying with the "T" theme, I've gone through the dictionary and tried to pick out all the words I could find that, to this ignorant man, seemed most applicable for the future needs of a new Third Party Platform. I'd guess that some of you more learned individuals out there could add a few more words to my temporary "decking." If so please feel free to do so and post it where you feel it would best be viewed by everyone.

Taxes

Teaching

Teamwork

Technology

Television

Temper

Term limits

Terminate

Terrestrial

Terrorism

Testing

Thick as in skinned and not skull

THINK

Timeliness

Tone

Tongue

Too Big

Tools

Top Secret

Tracking

Trade

Translate

Transparency

Travel

Treasury

Trust

Truth

Let’s pound them while they are on the ropes

2010-02-19T13:11:00.001-08:00

Something I noticed this morning on a newscast. The topic of key-less, push-button ignitions on certain models of new cars came up. Several people have had something unusual happen to their cars while moving along at good speed. The brakes didn’t seem to help and for some reason, pushing the start button didn’t work like it does on windows software. These people couldn’t turn off their car’s engines and then slow to a complete stop,

I know that Toyota is NOT the only manufacturer that produces certain models with this key-less feature. I’m certain that owners of others brands have experienced a similar problem. And yet … the media cited only Toyota in this article’s broadcast.

I also know that in the past, Toyota has seriously kicked some American automobile company butt. Recently Toyota has experienced some serious problems and one or two massive recalls for brakes, gas pedal and electric steering problems.

I believe that it’s some kind of conspiracy, aimed at beating up on Toyota while trying to improve the image of American car makers.

American’s big three car companies stuck it too we consumers for a long, long time. They fell by the wayside as Toyota climbed to the number one sales leader. Toyota did that by producing superior, more dependable cars for many years and then … the bottom fell out of our economy and not many were buying cars period. Every car manufacturer felt the impact of a recession and Toyota was no exception. They recently admitted that they had cut too many corners and we now paying the price. Right now they are in a struggle to rebuild their image by repairing all their cars with defects. They deserve at least as many years trying to recover as our own car companies had.

They haven’t needed “bailing out” yet. Give them a chance to regain their reputation and high quality standards.

The Tiger is out of the Woods

2010-02-19T12:49:00.001-08:00

This is no rumor. I witnessed it myself.

Oh it was so sad. My idol, my role model.

This morning, at ten thirty our time, the Golf Channel broadcast a special news cast that featured Tiger Woods bearing his soul and heart to the whole world, a small group of close friends and family and relatives from abroad, through his marriage to Elin.

He seemed a different Tiger than I was accustomed to seeing. Dare I state that he appeared “Humble?”

It was a long over-due appearance before his public, fans and fellow professional golfers, whose thunder he was stealing, or so some have expressed recently to the media. Why had he chosen this day of all days, when a large, match-play tournament was being hotly contested which was being sponsored by Accenture, one of the groups which he had represented only a few months ago?

This Tiger was a subdued tiger, whose tail was between his legs, obviously ashamed of his own past behavior.

Some desired to judge him to see if he was truly “Contrite” enough to suit them. I wonder if he was? I thought he was being very honest and open about his behavior. He openly admitted that in his own mind, rules that applied to other professional golfers and husbands didn’t apply to him. He was above all that.

He had strayed from his personal faith and religious upbringing. He had forgotten all the moral teachings he received from his Mom and Dad. He admitted “I NEED HELP!”

He was getting the best professional help available at a well known addiction clinic. Tomorrow, he would return there for additional treatments. I pray for his recovery, both moral and spiritual.

The most meaningful comment I believe I heard him say was, “A man’s success in life is not measured by his accomplishment but by what he overcomes.”

Tiger Woods has a mountain in front of him. Let’s give him our support and wish him a great success and a speedy return to golf for he means so much to the sport and much of the world in general. It won’t be easy but I believe he can do it.

I also pray that he and Elin can work things out and restore their family relationship for the benefit of all concerned.

To hair is human

2010-02-19T12:10:00.001-08:00

I use an electric razor to shave with most of the time. At other times, I will use a double-bladed disposable one to take care of the longer hairs that gather in low valleys and wrinkles or folds of skin on my neck, front and back.

I don’t use a mirror when I shave with the electric razor, I usually do that while sitting in front of the TV. Still, from time to time, I find it necessary to stand in front of a small mirror that is mounted on the wall out in the small hallway that connects our three bedrooms and one bathroom on the uppermost level of our tri-level home. I turn on the overhead light in the hallway so as to establish a kind of back-lighting. I utilize said light with a purpose in mind. It aids me in detecting extra long hairs that have sprung up and grown speedily on my head, neck and ears, both internally and externally.

My electric razor has a retractable trimmer on one side. I use it to crop the crazy hairs I might spot during that periodic examination in the back-light. Recently, I did one of those random inspection and to my amazement, right at the junction of the top of my left ear and shaved super-slick skull, I spotted a small group of very long, gray, curly hairs. WOW! I thought. Why haven’t I noticed or felt those fellows already? I popped up the trimmer and dispatched them to hair heaven.

If my hair had grown as fast as those few unnoticed ones did for all my previous life, I wouldn’t have been able to afford the cost of hair cuts even if I had gotten a burr every time. Could it be that hair grows best on decaying flesh?

A weather related rant

2010-02-16T16:16:00.000-08:00

A little over a year ago, Maureen and I purchased two 32 inch flat-screen LED Televisions that cost us over $600.00 each. Only today, as we sat watching Monday night's episode of 24, I was greatly distracted by the two inch high band of blue color that extended completely across the width of the television screen. The purpose of that band was to convey information concerning the horrid weather we've been having and it affect on the local activities such as school delays and closings, etc. I'm sure you know what I'm talking about. Our cable TV stations can't be that different from any others around the country.

I would rather that I hadn't been so distracted by its presence, because the more I thought about it, the more angry I became. Is that band what I've heard a few others describing as a "Crawler?" Well, it can craw its intruding little self right out of my life. I pay for a 32 inch, high definition image on my TV and I demand my monies worth. I'm sick of it. If things keep going this way, before we know it we will be viewing our programs in a space that resembles a washcloth in area. It can't be escaped even when one utilizes a DVR recorder. There's no fast-forwarding though that thing.

While I'm on the subject of television and the weather; what is it about the Chief Meteorologist on a station's broadcast? Aren't they simply too full of themselves?
Has anyone else noticed that maniacal little smirk they have on their faces as they tell us about the "Stormageden" headed our way. They act as if they actually believe all those educated guesses they continually bombard us with whenever our weather turns awful. They have millions of dollars worth of sophisticated equipment they use to interpret the information pouring into their gathering equipment, usually a larger and faster than normal, computer array that produced charts and models that represent what's headed our way and it's never good news. They act like they love it; being center stage, holding us as captive audiences and assaulting our ears and eyes with detestable images of weather related disasters, mumbling under their breathes something about "Surely the end of the world is at hand." I believe they spent considerable time in drama school before getting their current jobs.

Turn on your television early in the morning and you're going to get weather and traffic within the first five minutes and it will be repeated every ten minutes after that. Road conditions and school delays and most business closings mean very little to me. I have several "weather-rocks" that serve me better than those clowns.

Have you ever noticed that when it's this cold and nasty, the weather person is always promising us a "warming trend" or "improving conditions" that are always seven days in the distance and then ... as we slowly approach that day, their details, such as the amount of sunshine we can expect and temperature increases always diminish? They appear to use it like a carrot on a stick, always dangling out there in front of our noses but never being obtainable. It must be a ploy of some kind but for the life of me, I can't figure out what they've got to gain from it.

I'm done now. Sorry! I couldn't help it. I either had to rant or explode and you don't want to witness a sight such as that.

Watching TV on a cold, snowy winter's night

2010-02-12T02:49:00.000-08:00

Don't these girls look comfy?

That's Maureen and Lucy-fer laying on the love seat.

It was Bingo night for Maureen and Gail. Jenny, Lucy-fer and I stayed home and "chilled."

I made $40.00 for house sitting and having coffee waiting when they returned.

It must have been near midnight when I captured this snapshot.

Jenny is in the bed in the other room.

Remember when

2010-02-03T06:20:00.000-08:00

Here's a little number that certainly brings back memories:

Sha-Na-Na was their name and man! could they do some special numbers.
Just in case you don't recall them ... there was a TV Series by that name. Here's some facts from Wikipedia: Sha-Na-Na TV series

Sha Na Na was the name of a syndicated variety series that ran from 1977 to 1981, hosted by the popular Rock & Roll/Comedy group of the same name. The show was produced by Pierre Cossette and originally distributed by LBS Communications. Sony Pictures Television currently owns the rights to the series. Donny York, Jocko Marcellino, and Screamin' Scott Simon of the TV group continue to tour as Sha Na Na.

During the shows' opening after the cast and guests are mentioned Myers kicks off the show by saying "And now, here they are, all greased up and ready to sing their brains out, Sha Na Na!" while Jon "Bowzer" Bauman would close out each show by saying "Good night, and grease for peace!" with Sha Na Na singing "Goodnight, Sweetheart, Goodnight" as their closing theme song.

I don't think I missed one of their shows during the time it ran. "Bowzer" was my favorite character, then again, I've always seen myself singing Bass in a Doo Wop group. Realistically, I knew I'd never make it in that role because so often I'd try to sing along with my favorites and just couldn't hit some of those really LOW notes. I guess "Little Darling" by The Diamonds was my uttermost favorite of them all.
Those were the days! I'll leave you with this one.

Yep! Six more weeks of winter - for sure

2010-02-03T05:33:00.000-08:00

How do I know you may ask?

It's simple. I was out in the yard yesterday, cutting down the dead Fountain Grass that stood along side of the house. The sun came out and I saw my shadow.

What's more, I worked up a little sweat. That was more important than forecasting the weather.

You see ... Sweat coming out of my pores is more rare than hen's teeth. Whenever it happens I instantly stop what I'm doing, rush inside and scrape off what I can of it, placing it in an empty medicine container for use later. USE! What use you ask? I am led to believe that it will cure everything, even up to and including Cancer.

I was told, over and over, throughout my formative years, by my dear old Dad that sweat was so rare on me that surely it would cure cancer, and I believed him. Would you like to try some? Let me know.

Groundhogs as omens, portents and harbingers.

2010-02-02T05:10:00.001-08:00

Whenever I see a Groundhog, it makes me sad.

Sad is a strange reaction to seeing a large rodent.

When I saw one, I thought of food. Food for desperate times. Days when any kind of meat would do. Our family could not be picky and survive for long.

Killing one was only the beginning. FYI, Groundhogs require lots of time and attention just to get them to a point of acceptance as victuals. If one was not prepared properly, the meat would not be chewed and savored. Oh No! It would be bitten off in small bits and promptly swallowed. Soaking the meat in milk may have helped the taste but who could afford milk?

I know…Groundhog’s Day is a quaint custom. Knowing what I know about Groundhogs; no self-respecting Groundhog would be caught dead outside its burrow and cozy, underground den in early February, especially not in Pennsylvania. That’s even farther north than this area. Groundhogs are herbivores. They mostly eat plants and Groundhogs WILL wake up hungry. They do have a territory to graze but it’s not large. So plants need to be actively growing when they emerge from their dens. That’s probably the best time to kill and eat one. Most of the offending, rancid, stored up fat has been utilized by the Groundhog’s body to sustain it while in its stupor state.

We might have stood vigil at its den opening with great expectation but it certainly wouldn’t be to observe it and take note of whether it saw its shadow or not. Anyway, if whether the sun was shinning on Candlemas Day was a harbinger of six more weeks of winter before Spring made an appearance, any object that was capable of casting a shadow would have sufficed, even the observer’s body.

Crocus are more dependable than a Groundhog’s shadow. I’ve seen them poking their heads up through a layer of snow and ice before Spring came around.

Groundhog’s and sunlight are not compatible in my opinion. Bright light causes them to rub their sleep-filled eyes before they can see a predator and to show up better in a rifle scope. No wonder they are afraid of it and run back down into their den for a longer nap. They appear more intelligent than your average Pilgrim on the hunt for desperation food.

When Doo Wop was all I listened to

2010-01-30T16:56:00.000-08:00

I've been listening to Doo Wop and watching videos on YouTube for about an hour.
Thought I might share one or two that struck a familiar cord with me.
I had to laugh when this first one began. Notice that the fellow with the high voice is also the biggest man in the bunch. Go figure!

It doesn't get more smooth and mellow than this next one. ENJOY!

Some quotes I truly treasure for I believe they are true

2010-01-28T06:57:00.000-08:00

People are like stained-glass windows.
They sparkle and shine when the sun is out,
but when the darkness sets in,
their true beauty is revealed only if there is a light from within.
Elizabeth Kübler-Ross

There are two lasting bequests we can give our children:
One is roots.
The other is wings.
Hodding Carter, Jr.

Let your heart guide you.
It whispers, so listen closely.
The Land Before Time

Every man dies.
Not every man truly lives.
Braveheart

If you were going to die soon
and had only one phone call you could make,
who would you call and what would you say?
And why are you waiting?
Stephen Levine

There are some people that if they don't know,
you can't tell 'em.
Louis Armstrong

Be a good listener.
Your ears will never get you in trouble.
Frank Tyger

Enthusiasm is contagious. Start an epidemic.
( Seen on a Bumper Sticker )

Man's mind stretched to a new idea
never goes back to its original dimensions.
Oliver Wendell Holmes

Unthankfulness is theft.
Martin Luther

The trouble with being in the rat race is
that even if you win,
you’re still a rat.
Lily Tomlin

Looking back, I have this to regret, that too often
when I loved, I did not say so.
David Grayson

You will never find time for anything. If you want time you must make it.
Charles Buxton

There are no short cuts to any place worth going.
Source Unknown

The truth of the matter is that you always know the right thing to do.
The hard part is doing it.
General H. Norman Schwarzkopf

When you come to the edge of all the light you know,
and are about to step off into the darkness of the unknown,
faith is knowing one of two things will happen:
There will be something solid to stand on,
or you will be taught how to fly.
Barbara J. Winter

Life isn’t a matter of milestones,
but of moments.
Rose Kennedy

There are two ways of spreading light --
to be the candle or the mirror that reflects it.
Edith Wharton

Common sense is instinct.
Enough of it is genius.
George Bernard Shaw

The measure of a man’s real character
is what he would do if he knew he would never be found out.
T.B. Macaulay

The greatest weakness of most humans is their hesitancy
to tell others how much they love them while they’re still alive.
O.A. Battista

Don’t postpone joy.
Bumper Sticker

Persons thankful for little things are certain to be
the ones with much to be thankful for.
Frank Clark

You grow up the day you have your first real laugh,
at yourself.
Ethel Barrymore

Don’t get your knickers in a knot.
Nothing is solved and it just makes you walk funny.
Kathryn Carpenter

Silent gratitude isn’t much use to anyone.
Gladys Browyn Stern

The only place you’ll find success before work is in the dictionary.
May B. Smith

All my life I’ve wanted to be somebody.
But I see now I should have been more specific.
Jane Wagner

We make a living by what we get,
but we make a life by what we give.
Sir Winston Churchill

The sound of a kiss is not so loud as that of a cannon,
but its echo lasts a great deal longer.
Oliver Wendell Holmes

Take heed: you do not find what you do not seek.
English Proverb

Those who do not know how to weep with their whole heart
don’t know how to laugh either.
Golda Meir

Sometimes it takes years to really grasp
what has happened to your life.
Wilma Rudolph

A closed mind is a dying mind.
Edna Ferber

It is an ironic habit of human beings to run faster when we have lost our way.
Rollo May

The best things in life aren’t things.
Art Buchwald

The difference between fiction and reality?
Fiction has to make sense.
Tom Clancy

The first sign of a nervous breakdown
is when you start thinking your work is terribly important.
Milo Bloom

It is never too late to give up your prejudices.
Henry David Thoreau
(Walden)

One who makes no mistakes never makes anything.
Source Unknown

Yesterday is history,
tomorrow is a mystery,
and today is a gift;
that’s why they call it the present.
Source Unknown

Do not save your loving speeches
For your friends till they are dead;
Do not write them on their tombstones,
Speak them rather now instead.
Anna Cummins

Behold the turtle.
He only makes progress when he sticks his neck out.
James Bryant Conant

Living is like licking honey off a thorn.
Unknown

I got a simple rule about everybody.
If you don’t treat me right – shame on you.
Louis Armstrong

Give sorrow words.
Shakespeare

We never listen when we are eager to speak.
Francois, Duc de la Rochefoucauld

A plug for Cookies

2010-01-28T04:35:00.000-08:00

NO! Maureen didn't bake a batch of cookies that sprung a leak. Silly!

As a family group, we searched for a small eatery, close by, where one could get breakfast whenever no one here felt like cooking. We found such a place on SR-25 south, just before the Mt. Zion Road intersection. It's there on the right and you might miss it if you are not paying close attention. It used to be one of those rogue soft-serve ice cream joints that are peppered around most of the south.

Yes! The owner's nick name is actually "Cookie." She doesn't really do ALL of the cooking while they are open for business. She's a good, Christian woman who wants to get to know all of her customers, so much of the time you are there, she is visiting one table or another in between taking orders and serving hot plates from the kitchen. I recalled that at one time, they held Sunday Church services in the same building. Cookies serves breakfast and lunch but no dinner. Cookie has to have some time each day for being with the family and members of her churches congregation. The Church has been moving to larger buildings periodically as the congregation grows. The Church is of the Baptist persuasion. There are preachers in the family.

Wednesday morning we went over for breakfast. While there, we were informed that they are having a drawing (men only) in which a feller can win some Valentines Day candy and a nice card for the woman in his life. At the same time, we were made aware that they were soliciting a new slogan for Cookies that will be printed on the new menu that is in the works. Maureen came up with what I thought was a great one; I am prejudiced so my opinion doesn't mean much.

It was: Cookies, where the food is so good you feel like licking your plate.
She's fast mentally; I take a little longer now a days when it comes to creative thinking.
Just this morning I thought this one up: Cookies, where the home cooking is so good you might believe that your own Mother was in the kitchen.

The food is very good. It has to be or this family unit wouldn't be returning as often as we do. Cookies' philosophy is, if you don't see what you want on the small menu, discuss it with her and she'll try to come up with what you want. I know that because one of the dishes we came to like a lot could be found at Bob Evans. It's called a Country Biscuit Breakfast. Cookie knew what it was and created a similar dish just for us. It's still not on the menu. Maybe that's why she's having a new menu made, to accommodate that one and dishes some other customers have asked her to create.

One can always get a bowl of Pinto Beans at Cookies. Like I suggested before, her kitchen is a lot like your Mother's if you are "countrified" or "rural minded." She likes to play country music on a low volume so as not to disturb the few customers that are not of that mindset. George Jones is one of her favorite recording artists. She also plays some gospel music, Bluegrass Gospel of course. It's not everyone's cup of tea; an acquired taste.

So...Drop on over to Cookies Place if you are ever in this area of Northern Kentucky. That's around eight miles south of the Ohio River. Be careful! The river is at flood stage right now.

Pleasantly Surprised

2010-01-27T12:46:00.000-08:00

is what I was after a recent turn of events. I explain:

Certain dogs are prone to ear infections.

Solution: Keep them as clean as possible.

How does one do that?

Answer: Use some kind of ear wash. What kind to use is one of those choices dog owners get to make on their own or with the help of another.

I tried that. It worked for a few years and then stopped working for Jenny.

Searched out another type of ear wash.

DermaPet MalAcetic Otic 16 oz is what I decided on.

It worked and Jenny seemed to like it better.

Did you know that dogs can get ringworm? Well! The experts say they can.

How is it treated? Lord Honey, don’t go there unless you want to become too worried about catching it yourself to sleep peacefully at night.

I’ve learned a few things about fungal infections of the skin over the years. Wash the affected area and pat dry. Apply some kind of anti-fungal cream or ointment. REPEAT as often as needed to clear it up. That’s pretty basic medicine right there.
OR you might try what one, old, country Doctor told me to do about pityriasis. Which is:

Any of various skin diseases of humans and animals, characterized by epidermal shedding of flaky scales.

He said “Get you a bottle of vinegar, Apple Cider Vinegar is best and have a container of talcum powder ready. Remove all your clothes, get into a bathtub or large washtub tub and begin to apply the vinegar to all your body surfaces, soaking it well or until the vinegar runs out, whichever comes first. Allow the vinegar to dry.
Then, apply the talcum power liberally over all the same surfaces. Get dressed and go about your normal business.”
I smelled like a large pickle for a while whose odor was being disguised by a layer of talcum powder.

You know what?

It worked like a charm. One application and the rash that resembled ringworm disappeared.

Vinegar is simply:
 An impure dilute solution of acetic acid obtained by fermentation beyond the alcohol stage and used as a condiment and preservative.

Notice that part of the name of the ear wash I decided upon is also “acetic”.

Turns out, certain fungi requires a perfect Ph condition in which to thrive. Applying vinegar (acetic acid) causes skin Ph to become very acidic. Talcum powder is very alkaline. Switching from one to the other suddenly has the affect of killing certain fungi, making it go away.

One day recently, I noticed some red rings on Jenny’s bare belly. Later I also found a patch of very red, angry looking skin under her left front leg. On humans that would be an arm pit. Jenny doesn’t shave her arm pits so that made it very difficult to treat it properly. I decided to trim her hair as short as I might risk during cold weather and then trimmed all the hair out from her left leg-pit. I tried cleaning it with that same ear wash because it was touted as a very good skin cleanser also. Her hair being shorter all over her body allowed me to inspect it for other outbreaks. I found three in all. One near her tail, just above and to the right of the rectum. I knew that area looked strange when I took her for a walk and let her walk me instead of the other way around. Most of the hair had fallen out due to the fungus infection. Then there was the belly spots and the large area in her leg pit.

I tried cleaning the areas and using some anti-fungal cream. That didn’t seem to be doing much after a day or two. So…I decided to use the old Doctor’s method.

A couple times a day I would dampen some baby wipes with that ear wash, clean all the areas very well and wait for them dry somewhat. Then I would dash on some baby powder and rub it in.

In a matter of one week, all the infected areas look GREAT. I still keep an eye on her just in case it should break out somewhere else. So far…So good!
Just thought I’d pass it along – FYI.

Also, I purchased three more bottles of that same ear wash just to keep around. I still use it as ear wash but you never know what might crop up. Dogs are funny that way. The price was right - $11.00 a bottle on sale.

DermaPet MalAcetic Otic 16 oz can be purchased through Amazon.Com should you desire to get some yourself. I can’t guarantee you what the price will be then but it’s worth whatever they charge.

I guess you can consider this post as a testimony of a good kind. For what it is worth.

Also, I will add that I took one of the 16 oz bottles, poured it into a plastic container with a resealable lid and periodically, I will give Jenny a good foot-washing in an attempt to ease this problem she has with some kind of bacteria invading the softer tissue behind her paw pads and between her toes. It does seem to be helping that.

Living with Diabetes

2010-01-23T06:12:00.001-08:00

I was diagnosed with Adult Onset, Type II Diabetes in 2004. Sure! I wish it hadn’t happened but more than that, I DO wish it had been diagnosed much earlier. If it had, I may not have all the damage brought about by having too much sugar in my blood and having it continue undiagnosed for as long at it was. I tried to place blame on my doctor. Why didn’t he catch it sooner? It’s not like I wasn’t seeing him enough. Certainly they were drawing blood from me on a regular basis. Isn’t it normal to check for blood sugar levels any time a sample is sent to the lab? Apparently not!

I knew that diabetes was present in my family’s history. Why didn’t I believe it could happen to me too? Why didn’t I list the symptoms and do a search using my computer and have the results page throw up a warning flag in front of my eyes that I couldn’t ignore?
Would’ve – Should’ve – Could’ve…BUT DIDN’T.

There’s no going back. It’s a serious mistake. I don’t feel any better about myself knowing that thousands or perhaps millions of others do the same as I did.

SO…Today I continue to pay the price for believing that I was different; special and perhaps Immortal, immune to the afflictions that beset so many other human beings on this planet, in this nation.
I could list all the complaints I have today and everyday that I KNOW are related to the disease but I doubt that any of you really want to read such a list. You don’t; Do you? Who wants to know that there’s another miserable person out there? That information does little to reduce another’s own daily suffering. I know it never helps me at all.

I continue to live with it and try to enjoy life as much as possible. Believe me…It’s better than the alternative. I’ve seen what happens to those who choose to ignore the seriousness of diabetes. It’s not pretty and I don’t want to do anything that will take me there any quicker than is absolutely necessary.
I went to my Doctor yesterday. It was not a scheduled appointment. I had called his office a little over a week ago because I saw a reading on my glucose meter one morning that worried me a great deal. 258. The highest reading I’ve ever seen before that time was 175. That was bad enough. I like uniform, even numbers ranging between 90 and 120. That’s what I’ve become accustomed to over the last six years or so. Certainly I don’t want them going over 160. That’s the range my Doctor gave me as a positive goal. I’ve done very well at achieving said goal and feel self-satisfaction at being able to maintain it. I was so relieved to discover that the problem was related to some defect in my glucose meter, the test strips or my personal procedure technique. I've since returned the suspected devices to the manufacturer and they in turn supplied me with a new testing kit. Thanks Bayer, Inc. I had to purchase a new kit from my local CVS for twenty bucks because I couldn't do without one for the three to five days it would take to receive the replacement. I now have a spare...just in case.

My Doctor and I went over the latest lab report resulting from the blood I had drawn a few days back. No protein in my urine, cholesterol levels GOOD, A1C – 5.9. My Doctor added that his own numbers should look as good as mine. He has had a heart attack. Thank God, I’ve been spared that experience. My blood pressure was 127 over 77; in his words “You can’t beat that.” Blood flow in the neck was good, so was my heart and lungs. I complained about not being able to sleep well recently because my right shoulder ached and throbbed all night. He checked it out, putting me through a few movements and probing my shoulder with firm finger pressure while I moved it this way and that. I believe you have inflammation in and around the joint that may be the result of some common conditions in men of your age. I’ll give you a cortisone injection and see that helps. It DID and I’m very thankful. Slept well last night. Nowhere near the pain I’d been having. It’s all GOOD!

Then, before he released me with the usual paper work and words of encouragement, he moved closer to the examination table, purposely invading my personal space, leaned in a bit and said “Clarence, you can stop worrying about your diabetes. It’s as under control as diabetes gets for anyone. You are doing GREAT! I’m so glad that you are taking your disease so seriously. You may outlive me.

I felt pretty good when I left his office but I’m still worried about my eyes. I’m not sure the increase in the “floaters” I’m seeing in my left eye is due to diabetes. I’ve had that problem a long time. What with having cataracts in both eyes, plus the floaters, I fear that I’ve going to face serious vision problems in the near future. That would certainly SUCK. Putting my Suck-O-meter in the upper ranges.
My life isn’t GREAT but I’m thankful for what I do have.

I’ll leave you with a little advice. If you even suspect that you could have a blood sugar problem; PLEASE, I beg you, have it checked just to be sure. It’s so easy to do. Your Doctor can do it right in his/her office. They usually keep a glucose meter on hand. Or, perhaps you know someone or have a family member with the problem; they wouldn’t mind letting you use their testing supplies to check it yourself. If you do have a problem and catch it early, believe me, you’ll be thankful you did. I hope you are spared all the negative affects that I cope with daily. It’s too easy to detect. There’s no need for anyone else to suffer as I have.

FYI: Symptoms of Diabetes (Most common ones)

Increased thirst
Increased hunger (especially after eating)
Dry mouth
Frequent urination
Unexplained weight loss (even though you are eating and feel hungry)
Fatigue (weak, tired feeling)
Blurred vision
Headaches
Loss of consciousness (rare)

Or, GO HERE FOR MORE INFORMATION

One more comment: For a diabetic, there are few things worse than an undependable glucose meter. It's wrong on so many levels. Time to push the Panic Button and do what it takes to fix the situation.

The evolution of me

2010-01-20T13:59:00.001-08:00

Every time I start looking back at my past….I run into a parked car.

I don’t remember where I came across that little gem but it got stuck in my head and I thought I might as well use it. For some reason I just like what it says to me.

Is life best lived by having hands on the wheel at ten and two o’clock, being totally focused and aware of what is ahead a considerable distance and moving forward at a safe speed? That’s not how I drive most of the time, so why would I believe it is a good way to live life?

I have a windshield and three mirrors to use. My eyes are constantly moving from one to the other and back again. I must be mindful of what is behind me, what is in front of me and what is on either side of me as I move along. I’m not the only one out here on the road of life. I must consider what others are doing too or there is going to be a collision.

Today I spend the majority of my time in the slow lane. In my opinion that is the most dangerous place a person can be. There always seems to be someone else who is traveling along slower than me just ahead or there are those who are speeding down an on-ramp wanting to merge with the flow of traffic. Then, there are those who want to get off at the next exit and have waited just a bit too long to move over into my lane. All of those things cause me to need to adjust my forward progress.

For fifty-six years I traveled along in the fast lane. I was content to move along with the flow of traffic. Then I tried the middle of the road and for a time that was where I stayed. I had the option of moving either left or right as the situations changed just ahead. It was a comfortable place to be.

Today I sit on a wide shoulder along the road and watch as everyone else passes me by going to God only knows where. The windows are down, I’m sipping a hot cup of coffee from a plastic cup and there are good tunes coming from the speakers. When rush hour is over I will make my way back to the house and park in the garage. I will sit in the cool darkness and think about where I’ve been and what I accomplished.

It’s so good to be out of the rat race.

Eons ago I formed in the primordial ooze, a single cell at first and then I divided and began to grow into something new, something that had never existed before. After all this time I find that I am destined to return to where I began, become a single cell once more and slide back into the ooze from whence I came.

These words are a metaphor that represent something, but I’m not sure exactly what.

Can you see anything of value in them? Explain it to me…..Please!

January thaw

2010-01-18T09:47:00.000-08:00

I love this kind of weather in the middle of January. Two weeks of above freezing temps during the day and dropping down to the upper twenties at night. I’ll take all of it Mother Nature can dish out.

However, I’ve lived in northern Kentucky and the surrounding area for all my life and I know it won’t last until spring. Jay Leno makes celebs pay for their plugs and we will pay for this break before spring arrives. We ALWAYS do. I’m not hanging my hat on “global warming.” It’s a myth! In fact, the opposite may be more realistic…another Ice Age in the making.

better than “Dances with Wolves”

2010-01-14T13:43:00.001-08:00

I believe I saw Dances with Wolves the year it came out. That was in 1990. For ten years, if anyone should ask me, “What is your favorite movie” my automatic answer was Dances with Wolves. For most of those years, I had to watch it about every six months. I referred to that habit as “Getting my fix.” I began with a copy on VHS tape, fearing I could wear it out. To insure that wouldn’t happen, when it came out on DVD, I purchased a copy. Now we are up to Blue-Ray and I just know that it won’t be long before I’m two steps behind home viewing technology advances and in danger of being left in the dust with no way to sate my habit. However, now and then, it is broadcast on one of our cable channels. I felt better about the future.

Today, Maureen and I went to the Super-Deluxe cinema over at the Florence Mall to see “AVATAR” for FREE, thanks to our thoughtful, loving daughter.

Believe me when I tell you that I sat down at the computer to write what passes for a movie review for me, fearful that I might run out of words while trying to describe it to you. The old saying goes “don’t look behind you because that which you fear the most may be gaining on you,” and it was but this time, it caught me. Now, I don’t even know how to begin.

I honestly feel that you will come to regret it if you do not go to a modern theater to see it as it was intended to be viewed. We laughed at one point and cried a bit at another. That was a shock to me, for I certainly wasn’t prepared for that emotion. Most of the time we just sat there…awe struck and in a state of wonder over the fact that any number of professional movie makers were capable of producing such a spectacle.

We left the theater and once we had gotten into the little truck, we just sat there for a time repeating to one another…”Have you ever enjoyed any other movie that much before? Wasn’t it amazing? What about this part and what about that part?. etc.”

I started the little truck and got it headed in the general direction of our home but the conversation didn’t cease or even lag a little. It just seemed to gush out of us.

It finally did stop but that only lasted until we reached home and started telling Gail what she had missed.

On a scale of one to ten, it was a 15. That’s my opinion and I believe Maureen would agree with me.

Don’t wait! If you have any interest at all in this kind of movie…GO!

Snopes says it's not a TRUE story

2010-01-10T05:46:00.000-08:00

I really don't care a whole lot whether it's true or not. It's still a great story and whomever wrote it deserves some recognition. NOW...I wonder how many authors would be glad to admit it was they that wrote it?

You say you don't understand what I'm talking about?
Please scroll down to the next entry and take the time to read it for yourself.
Thanks

A soldier and tank story

2010-01-10T05:16:00.000-08:00

If you are a dog person or simply like reading good stories, this one is for you. See Reggies story, may need to scroll down a little.

This story needs to be shared. Warning! It may bring a tear or two for some. Get a tissue ready.

Spirit Vs Ghost: Whose right and what’s wrong?

2010-01-09T09:25:00.001-08:00

Most of those who visit any of my blogs today may not know or even be interested in my past experiences. That’s fine! It’s no big thing. But…this is my blog and I will write what I want to post here. Today I will be drawing from a life time of learning about RELIGION.

In the eyes of those who knew me as a Brother in Christ and fellowshipped with me for all those years I attended church services at any number of Pentecostal Churches, they could and might say that I am “Backslidden.” That word is not in my vocabulary today. I have used it in the past because it was a well accepted term used and understood clearly by other Pentecostals. I typed it; then looked at it and immediately questioned if I had spelled it correctly. I’m still not sure. What I am sure of is what the expression means to me. If you are “Backslidden” you are not where you once were in your relationship with Jesus Christ. OK! That’s me. I confess and admit it.

In my past life, I invested over 14 years in studying the Bible, in all of its many translations. The King James Version was my 1st choice. It’s the version I’ve heard preached and quoted from for all these years. I most readily relate to it. It’s more poetic sounding somehow. My ear is attuned to it. Whenever I recall a verse of scripture, it is the form I see and hear in my mind’s eye and ears. It simply feels right to me. That is the form the scriptures take when The Holy Ghost brings it to my remembrance.

Question: Is a person really backslidden if the Holy Ghost still communicates with them? I mean, some Pentecostals will have one going directly to hell when they die, Do not pass GO! Do not collect $200.00. And yet, it appears that The Holy Ghost is still with them! How can it be true?

Please see this list of what one should do to keep from backsliding if you believe you might be doing so.

Studying the scriptures may well enlighten one. It may also cause one to have more questions than they have answers for.

See the title of this post.

That is one of the areas I’ve never gotten straight in my thinking.

Here’s some data for you:

In the KJV of the Bible, the words “Holy Ghost” appear 89 times but not once in the OT.

In the KJV of the Bible, the words “Holy Spirit” appear 3 times in the OT and 4 times in the NT.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve sat and wondered why it is that at ever opportunity, people will substitute “Holy Spirit” for “Holy Ghost” even while they are in the process of reading it directly from the scriptures?

Why is that?

To this poor backslidden man, it seems that mankind couldn’t wait to change Ghost for Spirit in the first translation to come after the KJV. Could it be that those people have discovered that the men who translated the Bible for King James made and error and translated the Hebrew or Greek original scriptures incorrectly?

The following verses are from the BibleGateway.com. You may be familiar with them. In them, Jesus says that if you desire anything and ask it in “His Name”, either he or The Father will or may give it to you. I couldn’t pin it down to any exact quote using these references.

John 14:13
And whatsoever ye shall ask in my name, that will I do, that the Father may be glorified in the Son.
John 14:12-14 (in Context) John 14 (Whole Chapter)

John 14:14
If ye shall ask any thing in my name, I will do it.
John 14:13-15 (in Context) John 14 (Whole Chapter)

John 14:26
But the Comforter, which is the Holy Ghost, whom the Father will send in my name, he shall teach you all things, and bring all things to your remembrance, whatsoever I have said unto you.
John 14:25-27 (in Context) John 14 (Whole Chapter)

John 15:16
Ye have not chosen me, but I have chosen you, and ordained you, that ye should go and bring forth fruit, and that your fruit should remain: that whatsoever ye shall ask of the Father in my name, he may give it you.
John 15:15-17 (in Context) John 15 (Whole Chapter)

John 16:23
And in that day ye shall ask me nothing. Verily, verily, I say unto you, Whatsoever ye shall ask the Father in my name, he will give it you.
John 16:22-24 (in Context) John 16 (Whole Chapter)

The reason I included the above scriptural references is so I could ask this hypothetical question”

Could it be that the reason some certain people have never received The Holy Ghost is because they have been asking for the Holy Spirit instead of the Holy Ghost in Jesus’ name?

Just asking!

What I think I know about LOVE

2010-01-07T09:01:00.001-08:00

Love is a subject so varied, and yet, so specific, depending on what area of life one makes reference to; it would be impossible to form a general opinion concerning it.

Love is an emotional adhesive, bonding people to people, people to things, people to places. There is love of money, love of country, love of God, Brotherly love, marital love, parental love, self love, Christian love, love of life, etc. The list is endless.

One thing is for sure; "Love Binds" when it is genuine. To separate one from a thing which is loved, another person which is loved, or a place which is loved, temporarily or permanently, is not a simple act of separation, putting some distance between the two, leaving each one whole and complete. It is a traumatic event, emotionally violent, tearing away some portion of the one which loves, leaving behind a person less than whole, who will experience some degree of emotional pain.

Love is an unstable element of life. It gives pleasure when binding two objects together, but mutates into a source of emotional torture during or after separation. If love is directed toward another person, and it is not returned by that person; love can transform into the bitterest kind of hatred.

Love is seldom passive or uncommitted. It is either precisely focused or dormant, waiting for some stimuli to spur it into action. It seems to come from an inexhaustible source deep within an individual.

Love can be like a wild fire, all consuming, ravenous in its appetite. It leaves ashes behind when it goes, it doesn’t take all evidence of its presence with it, like rain that has been dried up by the sun.

I don’t believe in love at first sight. I believe in attraction and lust. Love does not exist without reason. Love is not blind, but it can be stupid, illogical and irrational. It sees but it excuses, accepts, covers up and pushes aside without prejudice.

Love can exist where one would least likely expect to find it and yet, it can be noticeably absent where one might expect it without exception. Love is an enigma, a conundrum; a force that defies understanding and comprehension. It cannot be pigeon-holed.

Dare we call it DESTINY?

2010-01-05T18:40:00.001-08:00

Because Maureen goes outside so often to smoke, she has many more opportunities to observe more of the goings on in our neighborhood. I do wish she was as considerate of herself as she is of myself and Gail. So far, it has been a very cold January here in Kentucky. I can only imagine how difficult it is for her to continue to spare us and the house, but Maureen has always been thoughtful like that. The story which follows only serves to reiterate the accuracy of the fact.

Several times over the past week, Maureen has come back into the house and commented how she had been seeing this strange, white dog wandering our area. She couldn’t tell the breed from a distance but she stated that it looked a lot like an American Eskimo dog. She classified it as “strange” only because she could not recall seeing it before. There are several dogs that do wander about freely and often but somehow they continue to elude the Dog Wardens that patrol this area from time to time and sometimes more frequently, as in when someone calls them and complains. I will confess, I’ve been guilty of it in the past.

American Eskimo dogs are of special interest to us since Jenny had one parent that was of the breed.

Today, around three this afternoon, Maureen called from work and said she was ready to be picked up. I turned of the TV and got ready to leave. Jenny was waiting at the bottom of the stairs. She knows what it means when the phone rings that time of day and Mom hadn’t been around all morning. She simply loves to go get Mommy from work. Today though, both Jenny and Gail were waiting for me to come down. Gail was dressed and ready to go. She had to pick up some prescriptions from the CVS drug store. It was in the same little shopping mall where Maureen works and not out of the way at all.

Once there, I dropped Gail off and continued down to where Maureen usually waits for Jenny and I. I circled the lot and parked out front to wait for Gail.

Back at home, we got our cups of fresh coffee and went to the living room to chat and sip for a time. Maureen took her cup and stepped out onto the patio. When she returned, she once more commented on seeing that white dog. It was then that Gail recalled seeing a poster on the wall outside the drug store asking if anyone had seen this dog. There was a picture included and Gail said she remembered because the picture looked something like Jenny. As these kind of situations often will play out, Maureen looked out the living room window and there was the very dog she had been seeing off and on. Gail, Jenny and I all saw it too. Jenny was the most vocal about it. She was at the window, barking for all she was worth. Suddenly, the dog was joined by one of the Boxers that seems always to be running the streets around here.

Maureen wondered out loud…”Do you suppose there is any chance that this dog could be that very dog?” She suggested that perhaps she should call Annie at CVS and ask her to get the phone number from that poster so she could call the one looking for their dog. It’s funny how events like this one go down at times. Most of the time, it’s unproductive and a waste of time and effort but something was nagging Maureen on the inside. Might we call it “intuition” or some other equally mysterious, female trait? I for one am a believer in such manifestations. I’ve had many of my own and Maureen’s have proven to be more accurate most of the time.

Annie has always struck me as a very caring person. She proved once more that my impressions of people are usually correct. She took time out of her busy work day to get that number for Maureen.

Maureen called the number right away and as the universe would have it, the person was at home and very excited to hear that someone might have spotted their lost dog. She told Maureen that she was headed right over to search for the dog. Maureen told her that she would get dressed and walk around a while to see if she could spot the dog again. The woman on the phone told Maureen that her dog’s name was “Kilo” but she would be surprised to find out that he came to any stranger trying to call him. That woman doesn’t know Mrs. Dr. Dolittle. That’s what we often call Maureen. She is an animal Whisperer. They all seem to love her right away.

Maureen was dressed and out the door. Later Gail says she saw this dark colored car passing up and down our street. She assumed that could be the dog’s owner. She assumed correctly we were to find out when Maureen returned. I told Gail I saw Maureen walk back past the house, heading toward Delphi Ave and I thought I heard her call out “KILO!” as she did.

At some point, Maureen and that lady met up and talked a while. Maureen says she suggested that the woman go over to Bright Leaf Bypass and into the subdivision since the dog seemed to be headed that way. Maureen returned home because she was getting very cold after being out for so long.

Some more hot coffee and Maureen was recovering body heat while she filled us in on what she had learned. Seems Kilo ran off with another one of the family dogs. That other dog returned home later but there was no sign of Kilo. That was on the 22nd of December. This is January 5th. That’s about two weeks of running wild for Kilo. We wondered where Kilo was getting food and water. Water might come from the local creek down by the main road. Personally I don’t know how the dog made because it has been so cold of late. I guess it’s good that Kilo is an American Eskimo.

I for one could sense that something good was about to happen. I don’t know how to explain it, but everything was falling into place. Everyone was so excited and cooperative. Maureen must have been feeling that way too. I could hear it in her voice as we discussed everything relative to the event.

Soon, the phone rang and it was the good news we were all hoping to hear. The woman had followed Maureen’s suggestion and sure enough, there she spotted Kilo, sitting on the sidewalk, just inside the subdivision entrance. She called to Kilo and Kilo ignored her. She got out of the car and took a step or two toward Kilo and Kilo charged her and all but jumped up into her waiting arms.

Maureen said she could hear the sounds of family members rejoicing in the background as the woman thanked her endlessly for her involvement in Kilo’s return home. The lady told Maureen her oldest daughter broke into tears a few times Christmas Eve and Christmas Day because she missed Kilo so much and was so worried about him.

It was some time before Maureen could stop listening to the family celebrating and shouting “Thank You!” loud enough for Maureen to hear. Maureen was wearing this extra wide smile when she hung up the phone. Then, this little family did some celebrating of our own.

It was so great to have that happen. Now, as for me…I’m going to call it Destiny.

Maybe it’s no big deal to some of you but we know how we’d feel if Jenny got out and ran off for two weeks. I know; it’s just a dog to some, but to this family and many others I’m sure, it’s like having a lost family member come home.

Redeeming the time – NOT

2010-01-04T05:37:00.001-08:00

Is anyone else as confused about our calendar as I am about spelling it correctly? So help me, it took three tries before I got it right.

I suppose Bible study was how I first became aware of how screwed up we have gotten our method of tracking time. Before that, grade school history class kept me guessing as to what century I was living in at the time.

The problem really came home for me this morning as I watched Sunday Morning’s news program our DVR had recorded for us yesterday. They spoke of detailing all that had transpired during this first decade of the 21st Century. I had to count the passing years since New Year’s Day 2000 to fully comprehend that the first decade of the 21st Century had been accomplished at the end of 2009.

I suppose that fact alone indicates that I’m kind of dense and not really with it. Besides, math has never been my strongest subject.

I have a similar problem when I attempt to calculate someone’s age. My own age is easy. I was born in l940, so on my birthday of 1950 I was ten years old. Are you following me here? I know…it’s no problem for most of you out there.

Visiting the graveyard on Memorial Day and attempting to translate the age one died at as indicated by the dates on the headstone is difficult and often embarrassing should I verbally state the results of my mental math to someone else present there with me when they correct me either plus or minus the number I had arrived at.

So, would someone please reassure me that I am correct when I cautiously state: “Even though the date is January 4th, 2010, we are actually four days into the eleventh year of the twenty-first century?”

Well…Will you?

Proud Infidel T-Shirts and other anti-terrorist products

2010-01-03T07:39:00.000-08:00

Check out this Anti-Terrorism Website

A radical Hillbilly – more terrorizing than a Muslim terrorist

2010-01-03T07:31:00.001-08:00

Maureen and I were watching Fox and Friends, Sunday edition this morning. They went to the topic of the young man who tried to detonate his underwear bomb as the plane he was on approached Detroit.

Maureen hates Obama for breathing. I voted for the man and I’m sorry to say, he has become a huge disappointment to me.

She says “I guess Obama and his crew will turn him over to our legal system, get him a free lawyer and waste thousands of taxpayer dollars guaranteeing him his civil rights.” Both of us declared in unison…”What civil rights. He’s not a U.S. citizen.”

I suggested…”If there were any justice in this world, he would be placed before an assembly of news cameras, have an explosive device of some kind affixed to his body and at some counted down point in time, detonate it where all could witness it.” Film at eleven!

He wanted to sacrifice himself for some Jihad purpose. He should get his desire and the justice he deserves. I for one would be sated.

Obama – The PEACE President my eye.

Do you think our enemy would hesitate to make an example of one of our captured soldiers and video tape themselves cutting off his head and showing it on TV?

I’m sick of our government trying to suck up to our enemies.

If Obama hopes to be reelected in 2012, he’d better start doing a better job of defending our country.

Lets not overlook the fact that if said terrorist had been successful he would have killed all the people and crew on that plane, not to mention some untold number of others on the ground as the pieces of that plane fell to earth. We KNOW he is guilty. Why does he deserve a trial?

Southern Rumors

Maid of Mayhem - No ones BFF

A very Merry Christmas to all youse guys and gals

A DOG OWNER'S - SLAVE'S - CARE PROVIDER'S - STUDENT'S CONFESSIONS

Precious time

A Hunters Story

Do you know this singer/recording artist/vocalist?

Tribute post - 9/11/2001

I feel emotionally spent. I may be dehydrated due to all the moisture that has leaked from my eyes and been forced from my nasal passages. I don't like being so emotional for such a long time. I'm glad such occasions don't occur more often.

I will however, offer you the opportunity to shed a tear or two when you watch and listen to the video which follows here.

I was there - a tribute video to 9/11/2001 from God's point of view. You may need Him one day also. http://t.co/u0kHkmc

Why Does Michele Bachmann Think Abolishing The Department Of Education Is A Solution?

Our Baby girl is gone and we are devastated

My struggle to regain control of my life

A too long short story and a tip from me to you ... just saying......

Global Warming - explained by a Hillbilly

Growing up is optional

Where I am from ... a Floyd First project

Things I've stopped doing since I've gotten old

What a funny, messed-up world we live in.

Things that go KABOOM! during the daylight hours

Smufficated by VOC's, suffering in back and knees

Reposting "The Living Years" article

Improving your TV News benefits

Have you got a minute? Can we talk?

Put these two in the boxing ring and allow them to have at one another.

The day our world stood still

Be thankful - - - It's for your own good

Bathroom makeover

I keep waking up in the morning

1 Peter 1:23 (New King James Version)

What's in a name or the way it is spelled?

The best of last lines

Apathy - The seed of discontent (first published in 2000)

Funny IS where you find it - best when it's an isolated location

My responsibilities

What it really means to get "OLD"

FOOD!

Tuning in to the universal rhythms

Friends with "Benefits"

Sharing an email rant

Example of way too much information at one time

Coincidence of all coincidences

Me and Brer Rabbit

The short story about the "Maureen Event"

The Dog Days of summer are upon us

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Salt of the earth and a danger to everyone, even herself

This is no rumor but it's news worthy

Giant Cicada killing Wasps (Sand Hornets)

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Another sign of the times

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These way too smart phones

The perfect post for our country’s Birthday celebration

The need for love

A place called “Cookies”

A quote to note and live by

Around the old homestead 2010

A totally complete building project

It is what it is and it is mostly wood

Too many Masters

A public service announcement

Clean Bill of Health?

Giant Tree Tomato Seedlings

Migration, suicide or driven out by heavy rains - Earthworm mysteries

Inspired, blood surging, mind going a mile a minute and my body thinks it’s a good thing.

Fuming and stewing - again

Julie Kae Sings My Fair Lady

Time to “Party” seriously

Let’s pound them while they are on the ropes

The Tiger is out of the Woods

To hair is human

A weather related rant

Watching TV on a cold, snowy winter's night

Remember when

Yep! Six more weeks of winter - for sure

Groundhogs as omens, portents and harbingers.

When Doo Wop was all I listened to

Some quotes I truly treasure for I believe they are true

I was there - a tribute video to 9/11/2001 from God's point of view.
You may need Him one day also.
http://t.co/u0kHkmc