ASPENGLOW

The Ambulance Down in the Valley

2010-11-17T11:17:00.000-08:00

Joseph Malins (1895)

'Twas a dangerous cliff, as they freely confessed,
Though to walk near its crest was so pleasant;
But over its terrible edge there had slipped
A duke and full many a peasant.
So the people said something would have to be done,
But their projects did not at all tally;
Some said, "Put a fence 'round the edge of the cliff,"
Some, "An ambulance down in the valley."

But the cry for the ambulance carried the day,
For it spread through the neighboring city;
A fence may be useful or not, it is true,
But each heart became full of pity
For those who slipped over the dangerous cliff;
And the dwellers in highway and alley
Gave pounds and gave pence, not to put up a fence,
But an ambulance down in the valley.

"For the cliff is all right, if you're careful," they said,
"And, if folks even slip and are dropping,
It isn't the slipping that hurts them so much
As the shock down below when they're stopping."
So day after day, as these mishaps occurred,
Quick forth would those rescuers sally
To pick up the victims who fell off the cliff,
With their ambulance down in the valley.

Then an old sage remarked: "It's a marvel to me
That people give far more attention
To repairing results than to stopping the cause,
When they'd much better aim at prevention.
Let us stop at its source all this mischief," cried he,
"Come, neighbors and friends, let us rally;
If the cliff we will fence, we might almost dispense
With the ambulance down in the valley."

"Oh he's a fanatic," the others rejoined,
"Dispense with the ambulance? Never!
He'd dispense with all charities, too, if he could;
No! No! We'll support them forever.
Aren't we picking up folks just as fast as they fall?
And shall this man dictate to us? Shall he?
Why should people of sense stop to put up a fence,
While the ambulance works in the valley?"

But the sensible few, who are practical too,
Will not bear with such nonsense much longer;
They believe that prevention is better than cure,
And their party will soon be the stronger.
Encourage them then, with your purse, voice, and pen,
And while other philanthropists dally,
They will scorn all pretense, and put up a stout fence
On the cliff that hangs over the valley.

Better guide well the young than reclaim them when old,
For the voice of true wisdom is calling.
"To rescue the fallen is good, but 'tis best
To prevent other people from falling."
Better close up the source of temptation and crime
Than deliver from dungeon or galley;
Better put a strong fence 'round the top of the cliff
Than an ambulance down in the valley.

Packing Necessities and Luxuries

2010-06-17T17:50:00.000-07:00

Hmm? A year off, or retirement plan??

2010-06-15T20:33:00.000-07:00

I have a certain persistent aquintance known to some as Keith Textor. I am almost daily awakened between 5-7AM by the dreadful sound of my phone ringing, at least on the nights that I forget to prepare by turning off the ringer. You see, what exactly happens is that after a long night of sleeping in the luxurious bed I built for him, and having wonderfully happy dreams of new ways to torment me, he yawns opens up his sleepy eyes, rolls over and excitedly looks over NO not at his wife, but at the phone laying on the nightstand behind her. With a surge of adrenaline charged energy, he leaps over Rachel and in one swift motion hits speed dial #1 to see if I am up and anxiously awaiting his call. Who knows what jewel of wisdom, or what amazing story I might have on this morning to share with him!! I always help to start his day off right! "What an awesome friend that Teddy is, no not friend.... HERO!" I at this point, either cover my head with a pillow and sob, or if I more likely was already awake worriedly anticipating this morning ritual, I might actually answer with " OK Keith, what do you want from me now?" Although I ask, I already know... Yes, I know exactly what he wants. Furniture. "Hey you lazy mangy mutt" he begins, "why aren't you out of bed yet and working on my gun cabinet?" And so begins another day of continual texts and calls, about furniture that only exists in his wildest fantasies. I could wallpaper my bedroom with his blueprints and design ideas. The infamous bed that I am sure you have already been sorely aquainted with, and most likely never want to hear anything about again, took about a year. Why you ask?? Was it hard work? Well, yes but... I dont work good under pressure. Actually, I'll rephrase that, "I don't work under pressure." The more I am harassed, the less I really care. I do honestly feel bad about this, but I guess I have a streak of stubborn contrariness that runs strong through my veins particularly at 5:30Am. But yes, it happened. Just before their wedding, I pulled out my chisels, cleared up a week of my work and spend days carving mortises and tenons, and then finally tiredly emerged from my shop with a 3000lb bed frame that honestly rivals any building I ever made in sturdiness. You can grab ahold of it and shake for all your worth and not move it one little bit. Unfortunately, this was exactly to a T what Keith had designed. He was quite satisfied. So.... Here I am, after another year of hearing about how Im "Not doing anything" and "Should be working on that gun cabinet." I figure I better get it done soon before campmeeting where I can give it to Keith, or else I will eventually be driving 6 hours to deliver. So thursday and friday were set aside just for this particular task. Thursday I get all sorts of important things done, except... you guessed it. So I begin at 9 and just after midnight I have all the miters cut, the back inletted, the box glued together. I breath a sigh of relief and collapse unto my bed until my morning wakeup call. I gotta admit that it did feel a bit better to have a little progress to brag about. So Friday, same story. OH WOW!! A booksale! Im sure I can be there and back before 2:00 and have plenty of time to finish up the doors! So, at 5:00 I get home and sprint into the shop, sawdust flies, glue is splattered about, clamps are clamped and just barely by 8 I have finished up the sanding. Sabbath approaches fast, I panic and start applying stain with the biggest brush I have. OH how much relief I felt, to throw down my tools and watch the sun go down. So there you have it, 2 pictures texted to me by Mr. Textor. The cabinet don't belong on the bed, but he plans on putting it on the wall above I guess. I REALLY hope that it was good glue I used, and that he knows how to find the studs.... Not something I would want above my head at night :(

Just for curiosities sake, I did a little search tonight on the prices of custom made beds and gun cabinets. Whoah!! OK I shoulda kept them ;). If I can cut out the pieces for 10 or 20 cabinets on one day just to save set up time, and put them all together on the next, I think I just might be able to take the rest of the year off! Of course, whether or not I get all 20 done in 2 days, does depend on how many used book sales are running. :) Or, maybe I'll just finish out this month with building such things, and retire?? Still debating. What am I going to do with all my surplus free time you ask? I got that all figured out too. I'm taking my books, guitar, and horse, on a nice long ride far away from cell phone reception. Now you would think I could get at least a little grace period to recover now wouldn't ya? HA "Hey wake up you good for nothing lazy hippie, why aren't you out of bed and working on my cedar chest?"

INTERNATIONAL (harvester) wonder...

2010-05-27T14:37:00.000-07:00

After driving for hours, and breaking down and getting running again OF COURSE in the middle of town,(much to the amusement of many townfolk) I finally got it home! :) Hurray

Nothing can stop me now!! Hee Hee!! OH the possibilities! And.... OK I now know why no vehicles have gold trim, too extravagent, I never before had so many people stare at me. Lol and that says alot! Next time I have 2 hours, its back to boring old silver... :(

My HOT PINK Work Truck

2010-05-20T20:14:00.000-07:00

Do you know how people sometimes ask how you've been and don't really want a real answer? We'll I'm gonna take that a step further and tell you without having anyone around to ask me. So here it all started.... My truck had an ugly white stripe on it and lots of rust. So I innocently decided one day I would cutout and bondo the rust holes, and scrape off the super reflective stripe, NOTHING MORE. Weeks later with blisters on my hands, I was left with a scratched up and patchwork quilt looking Conservation Department reject. So I once again made an uneducated decision and decided I would throw some paint on it. Ever since I have been on a long slow journey. At first I really had no concern whatsoever about how it looked when it was done, but I decided to paint the top black and the bottom deep red just for kicks. I sanded for several evenings, and taped it up for the Rustoleum priming. Well after I learned how terribly long it takes to tape up a truck, and how painful them little buttons on the spray paint can get, I decided to throw out the "cheap" "who really cares how it looks in the end" attitude, and dug out my spray gun from deep within my piles of stored away extra tools. So weeks once again drag on, and I drive around with a black top, sanded green passengers side, brown primer drivers side, and a very patchy looking red tail gate (Pro car paint.... OOOO :) $8 a can and the tailgate took 2 cans and still looked awful funny.) So last night I decided that something had to be done soon, or I would just get so used of it that I wouldn't even remember that I was planning on the bottom being one solid color. So I rushed to Rome, found the Deep Dark Red I really wanted and the guy talked me out of it and into another "dark" red. I thought the paint looked a little "fishy" but I bought it just to make him feel good about saving me 2 dollars. So I get home and decided I better dab a little on the fender to dry overnight before I trust that paint. Well, in the morning I wasn't surprised one bit to see a dark pink instead of red on my truck. So I wait until they open at 8, go back to Rome with the intentions of exchanging his pink paint for my red. The woman there informed me that paint was not returnable, I informed her that it was, and eventually we grew to see things eye to eye. So I finally left the store with my deep, dark, red expensive paint. When I finally got home, it took me half the day to get the truck all taped up again.

It is 3:00, I pour some paint unto the sprayers canister and pour in some paint thinner to thin it down for painting. JUST LIKE THE MAN THE NIGHT BEFORE TOLD ME TOO :). My precious paint will not mix with the thinner, I stir and stir, until it becomes a big useless glob of Jello. Ut Oh :(. I call the store, You used what!!! She says, you need a special paint conditioner to thin that paint... OK. So my truck is covered with taped on newspapers, and I am running out of time, money, patience, and paint. I knew one thing for sure, I was NOT taking them papers off to go back to Rome AGAIN. So my mother was happy to let me ride out there with her. But First.... The neighbors little grandson came running through the field over to us, the bus dropped him off and his grandmother was not coming to the door. The poor little guy was so worried, because she has cancer and he thought the worst. So we run over there, call the house, pound on the door, rap on the windows, nothing. After about an hour of this, just about as I surrendered to the idea of possibly prying a window open to get in and see if she was ok or just sleeping, his mother pulls in the driveway. It turns out that she forgot to tell her mom that Dustin would be dropped off there that afternoon, and his grandma wasn't home after all. I breathed a sigh of relief as I realized how close I came to "breaking and entering :)." So then she continued to talk as the sun dropped ever lower in the sky, we apparently had alot of catching up on.... LOL. At least 5:00, we finally leave for Rome. The man from the night before is quite irritated with me that I don't like his choice of colors, and begrudgingly gets me another can of that Deep, Dark, Red. He has no idea what the other woman was talking about as "conditioner," and tells me to use water. After his advice about using paint thinner, I am sorta skeptical but I don't know of anything else I could possibly do, so I once again fork out the money and we rush home again. It turns out, that neither my spray gun nor my fathers wants to spray anything but air. So I tear dads totally apart and clean every little bit, nothing. Do the same with mine, and finally find the plugged up part. I hurriedly glance at the sun, run to the truck and start spraying on the "liquid gold." A thin insignificant mist comes out, determined that it will just have to do, I continue until it actually finally sorta worked right about 15min's later. But there is one "little" issue... It is a VERY hot pink color.

Not the deep red I bought :(. So I wish I had just stuck with the regular pink color, but at this point I figure that my truck is just destine to be pink, and continue laying it on, wondering if I will ever have the courage to drive again. "Real men drive Hot pink trucks" I tell myself over and over and over, not completely convinced yet. After what seemed a life time, it looked just sorta pink, and then dryed into a KINDA deep red. Not Dark, Deep. 4 coats later i ran out of paint, and felt much better about my last 24 hours. Now I just eventually need to re-paint the top with the better black paint I have, instead of that patchy black spray can job :) clear coat it, and then finally, I'll do the part I'm looking forward to. For the last year or so I've kept watch and noticed that nobody at all that I have seen has gold trim.

Just chrome, here a chrome, there a chrome, everywhere a chrome chrome. So all "chrome" will be shiny gold! :) Hurray!! Along with a thin gold stripe between the black and red, and a gold business logo on my doors and tailgate. That will be just peachy :)! Its still wont be perfect, but maybe people will stop asking if I work for the D.E.C. I have never been much of a "Motorized Vehicle" lover, but I occasionally feign interest, ;). I've never really felt comfortable owning anything that I didn't build myself, and a truck is a little beyond my aspirations. I'm sure I could do it! ;) but I probably wont, lol. But I gotta say, painting it kinda sorta makes me feel a little tiny bit better deep down inside :)

At least I am not rebuilding my entire truck like this guy in the background. His Ranger is "Build BOARD Tough!!) It was a 4x4 but he's making it look more like a 2x4 ;)

I considered Lime Green trim instead of gold... ;)

Smile and say CHEESE!!

Laying on the trampoline,a popular late afternoon activity commonly enjoyed by many ISFP's ;)

A View of God's Solid Law from a'top My Wobbly Stepladder

2010-05-11T21:39:00.000-07:00

This afternoon while awkwardly balancing myself up in the air, puttying sheetrock seams of a skylight tunnel (puttying being my least favorite thing to do only to be outdone by sanding it back off, but alas it's a seemingly never ending part of my daily life ) I began to thinking. My mind turned to Gods Law and all of the verses and principles that surround it. So I started reciting the Commandments and the first one hit me hard like never before, "You shall have no other gods before Me." What is this! my mind cried out, I had never before seen just how very, very incredibly sad and heartbreaking this one command alone truelly is. The One and Only God, our Creator God has had to tell pitifully dependant little us to have no other gods before Him! It is such an amazingly undeserved act of love and patience for the Lord to even speak these words. Freshly free'd Israel nor us have absolutely no excuses, we know who has saved us, we know where every good blessing comes from, our manna falls daily never a true need left unprovided for. Could the children of Israel, Gods chosen people, a nation of millions of "rational" men and women, really wake one morning gather the Heavenly manna and then proceed to gather together the gold to make themselves a "god!" Have I ever done that? Do I do that? I know I do. As I thought on further it just got all the more pitiful. "You shall not take the name of the Lord your God in vain," to despise the Holy name of God as filth, "Remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy," why is it so hard for us to accept the rest that He gives us, why do we fight such a merciful gift? "You shall not murder," should we be the ones to choose when a life God has given is to come to an end? Just because that life has become the object of our hate. "You shall not commit adultery," is a holy covenant between ourself, the one we love, and most importantly The Lord God something we should easily forget, take lightly, or dare to break in mind or body? And so on and so forth with every other commandment. It became increasingly apparent to me just how tragic it is that we as humans even needed to have these Laws and Commandments written down. Don't we even know what is good, right, and true. Our love for God and our neighbor is so cold and lifeless that selfishness and disgusting greed corrupt our worship, thoughts, speech, desires, and actions. Not one of us is free of this guilt. As I read Psalm 119, again and again the writer (David?) pleads for the Lord to teach him His Law to make it a part of him, this law is Gods love in us. On the New Earth Gods Law will be fulfilled in its completeness and every life will be lived not meerly under it, but through it. No longer will we tell ourselves and others YOU shall NOT steal, but Gods Love in us will be our Law and our pure thoughts and actions will all flow from this law that will be part of our very being.

Hebrews 8:8
...Behold, the days come, saith the Lord, when I will make a new covenant with the house of Israel and with the house of Judah:
⁹Not according to the covenant that I made with their fathers in the day when I took them by the hand to lead them out of the land of Egypt; because they continued not in my covenant, and I regarded them not, saith the Lord.
¹⁰For this is the covenant that I will make with the house of Israel after those days, saith the Lord; I will put my laws into their mind, and write them in their hearts: and I will be to them a God, and they shall be to me a people:
¹¹And they shall not teach every man his neighbour, and every man his brother, saying, Know the Lord: for all shall know me, from the least to the greatest.
¹²For I will be merciful to their unrighteousness, and their sins and their iniquities will I remember no more.
¹³In that he saith, A new covenant, he hath made the first old. Now that which decayeth and waxeth old is ready to vanish away.

Psalm 119
¹⁶⁹ Let my cry come before You, O LORD;
         Give me understanding according to Your word.
¹⁷⁰ Let my supplication come before You;
         Deliver me according to Your word.
¹⁷¹ My lips shall utter praise,
         For You teach me Your statutes.
¹⁷² My tongue shall speak of Your word,
         For all Your commandments are righteousness.
¹⁷³ Let Your hand become my help,
         For I have chosen Your precepts.
¹⁷⁴ I long for Your salvation, O LORD,
         And Your law is my delight.
¹⁷⁵ Let my soul live, and it shall praise You;
         And let Your judgments help me.
¹⁷⁶ I have gone astray like a lost sheep;
         Seek Your servant,
         For I do not forget Your commandments.

Tory Discovers Dumpster Diving

2010-05-10T18:34:00.000-07:00

I've always been amazed at how Tory is such an easy keeper, that tough 'n hearty little horse can thrive on any quality hay I give her. She has plenty of grass in her field already, but in the summer I throw up a temporary fence out of old 100' extension cords on the front lawn a day or so each week to keep up with the "mowing." It's always worked great, and she loves it. Well, the grass is growing so her pasture was expanded. I woke up the other morning and looked out the window to see my bratty horse out there tearing apart a plastic cereal bag and chewing it up like it was some equine delicacy. lol, by time I ran out there she was eating the cereal box too. :) A couple of black plastic garbage bags were ripped apart and spread all over the place. As I rushed around shooing her away from one chunk of cardboard or plastic, she would get this nasty offended attitude and run to the next and start chomping down on it! And then the next morning my mother looks out to see that she had done the same thing, but this time she is carrying around in her teeth an old teddy bear that mom had thrown out, and was swaying it around lol. My mother took it away and threw it in her dogs outside run, we looked out later to see the dogs wire (chicken wire) bent down as Tory is reaching her neck as far over as she can trying to reach her bear. :) Then she noticed that it felt kinda good and proceeded to itch her neck back and forth until a 10 foot area of wire was bent half way down to the ground. I tell ya, that horse isn't normal! ;)

She hasn't keeled over in the last few days, so now I'm starting to wonder about her lineage. Raccoon - Goat - Arabian - Quarter Horse - Mule - Chimpanzee? Ya know, last year we were having problems with my aunts geese tearing apart and spreading our garbage bags all over, and then they tore into, ate, and ruined several bags of Tories grain I had stored too. That horse must have been watching their technique, the neighborhood better watch out now!

Headline: "Teddy Bear toteing horse, hijacks garbage truck..."

Concentric Rings of Praise

2010-05-02T09:28:00.000-07:00

My voice You shall hear in the morning, O Lord; In the morning I will direct it to You, And look up. Psalm 5:3

God created in all of nature a universal language, natives the world over and several modern trackers give it the descriptive name of "Concentric Rings." It is a beautifully simple, but yet very incredibly complex and subtle language, it is basically pictured as a calm still pond (base line). If you drop a pebble in the middle, soon the ripples will expand from the center and cover the entire pool, and eventually return back off the shore and return to the center. But given time the water will return to its calm still baseline. This is exactly how it works in nature. The calm waters is when everything is going smoothly, the deer is grazing, the male robins are flying the perimeter of their territory singing their happy songs :), the chipmunks feel at ease to do their little daily duties, and the fox is peacefully trotting at his baseline gait or maybe soaking up the sun. Then all of a sudden our red bushy tailed friends tummy feels just a little bit too empty, he takes a little bit longer glance at our little chipmunk than he is comfortable with, and in a moment his subtle hunter body language is all it takes. The pebble is dropped, the peaceful pond is covered in ripples, Chip chirps and dives into his rock pile, RoBen sits up a little straighter fluffs himself up to his full manly potential and lets out a series of calls that all in earshot recognize, they respond by their own calls of alarm, and pretty soon the whole neighborhood of ground feeding birds and rodents knows that something is not right, Mr. Fox is hungry! Ya better watch out. Now Mr. and Mrs. Tohee that were feeding on the ground making their gentle companion calls to each other are suddenly completely silent and nowheres to be seen. Silence is an alarm as well, and depending on time of day and year, probably the most common one. But you will notice that the Orioles in the tree tops really don't care whats going on down below, they never seen a fox climb a tree, their beautiful song continues, all is just peachy in their world. The deers ears will point in that direction, she might stop eating to look that way for a moment, but a whimpy little fox is really no match for her sharp hooves. She continues eating. A hawk floats over head, now we've got the Orioles attention as he dives down lower into the thickest part of his tree and begins his worried calls. All is calm again, its been maybe 10 minutes since any alarms have sounded. Everyone peeks their heads out, takes a look around and finally baseline is restored. All is well, Happy Day! :) I walk through totally in my own world, completely out of touch with all that is going on around me, "Boy its been a hard day!" a "boulder" is dropped from the sky and a wave of alarms flow out before me for maybe a 1/2 mile or more ahead of my course. "Hmm, I wonder why there's no birds or animals out today? Must be a bad day for everyone!" And so there you have it, that is the concentric rings of nature in a nutshell, there are 2 basic rules. 1) Nothing ever happens without a reaction & 2) Animals are extreme conserver's of energy, if somebody is making a call, any call without exception, there is a very good reason. Companion call, territorial, or alarm. Energy = Food, and food is not that easy to come by. Just try hanging on a tree and screaming "Help!" for 15 minutes, your going to be hungry. At least I was.. ;) lol

So now you wonder why I'm telling you this. The last few days I have been thinking about a certain time of day. I'm sure that all of you have at sometime in your life been up shortly before sunrise and stepped outside to hear what you thought at the time was the most glorious sound you have ever heard. The atmosphere was almost thick with the reverb of song, you feel like you are deep in some jungle. Well, this is the loop hole of bird language. And the predators know this. A coyote, cougar, weasel, etc. can stalk through your forest during these short moments of the morning, and not a bird will "tattle" on them. This is the hawks favorite time to hunt, he can snatch one bird after another without alarm And also the rules of conservation no longer apply, this short time of song is "technically" of no survival value, but everybody joins in and sings His praises with all of his or her little might. The natives would tell their children that this was a bird in his thanksgiving ceremony and to not disturb them. Now I don't know just how much the birds know what they are doing, but I know they are glorifying God in doing what he created them to do. But back to my point, we are busy "birds," lol, we do our daily work, we call our companions, guard our own little "territories," and spread our own alarms and concerns. But when we wake, is our first thoughts of the day full of thankfulness? Do we sing songs to glorify God, despite the pressing concerns of our lives. Or how often does the enemy of our souls snatch our minds away to our worldly business because we "don't have enough time this morning."? Will we still openly sing our praises to God in those days when doing so means that our lives are in danger?

Jesus says, "If the people keep silent, the stones along the road will praise me."

The Love Note

2010-04-30T21:58:00.000-07:00

A Penny Saved is a Penny... Well, maybe not?

2010-04-27T20:02:00.000-07:00

About once a month or so, my trucks console becomes so overflowing with change that coins begin to shoot across the cab at high velocities as I take corners. So I take the hint, gather them together w/ whats in my tin at home and cash it in. Well, Today I came across this 1983 penny. It has seen better days, hopefully. I hope I'm not looking in that rough of shape in 3 years! This penny has led a very unhealthy life.... its sad. ;) Think it has a copper deficiancy?

More Amazing Acrobatic Feats at Forest Park

2010-04-24T21:23:00.000-07:00

Chase Brothers Circus

The Wiseguys hanging around at the gate to the city

Being supportive of our brother Jacob (notice sign typo limit 3 sons)

Changing tires like a man (jacks are for sissys)

more shocking & astounding performances coming soon to a park near you!

3 Aspiring Pizza Delivery Guys

2010-04-18T18:28:00.000-07:00

Mr Money bags (uncle Jamie)

"The Boys from Italy" (Uncle Jamie Dad & Uncle Jeremy)

These guys do enjoy their pizza! (Apparently a little too much)

A View from Between the Fluffy Ears

2010-04-12T20:32:00.000-07:00

On the way home today, I was debating whether to try to get some things done or go for a ride. I "responsibly" chose the former, but as I pulled in the driveway Miss Tory was already loose tearing back and forth at full speed across our lawn. :) She apparently felt like having a good run, and seemed reasonably happy to see me so...

Mom and I rode a bit around home, then Tory and I headed for Forest Park down on the other side of Camden.

Tory's Black Stallion admirer came out to the road to say hello. (as he always does) along with several other friendly neighbors.

We passed the signs that the town recently erected in our honor :)

and eventually we entered the metropolis of Camden, NY

Finally made it!

We did some swimming in Fish Creek.

And came across some "familiar faces" who came to visit us. Tory was happy to give Sulli a ride.

The Spring Beauties are growing.

The view from the top.

"Im not sure this is such a good idea... but if you say so...

"We made it! What a relief! Im NOT doing that again....

I love my teeny tiny, pocket pony

Poems Prayers and Promises (and family)

2010-04-09T16:22:00.000-07:00

I probably had a little too much fun making this :) Some of the picture combinations might be interesting. This is one of my very favorite songs to play, it has always reminded me of my family. I feel blessed beyond what I could ever desire. The life God has given is good, regardless of the circumstances of life.

Matthew 7:3 and Me

2010-03-28T22:07:00.000-07:00

So here is the abridged, simplified, and slightly cleaned up story of my "war" with the loggers. "My woods" in all actuality belonged at first to an elderly friend of our family Mrs. Boberick. She gave my family permission to use the woods and fields like our own, so I began at probably 6 or 7 to start exploring and building in the area directly across from our home. Before too long, I had expanded to quite a bit larger area of woods. Years later Mrs. Boberick was put in a nursing home by her only son Freddy who lived in Texas, and he asked us to continue watching over the land for him. Then suddenly one day, logging equipment moved in. I rushed home and had my grandmother call Freddy and tell him. Of course he knew about it, and said that they would just be cutting a few of the biggest Cherrys. It didn't turn out like that at all. Before all was done, logging crews had moved through 3 times, and cut trees by the thousands to chip up and fill tractor trailer after tractor trailer to sell for apparently making OSB plywood. Every area of the woods for miles was completely covered with deep ruts that turned into muddy streams that eroded and filled in "my stream" that ran past my first camp. (I spent weeks after they had finished, throwning stones in the ruts to "stop" the erotion and digging out the stream by hand, It didn't work.) And several places that were special to me where I often went to pray and read my bible, were turned into brush piles and mud. I watched from a distance for days, until the day I sat on top of the biggest hill and watched as a vehicle with a claw and saw on the front cut down the only grove of white birch I had in those woods. That was my breaking point, and I immediately began to crawl as close to these loggers as I could to gather information and see what I could do. Chad while just as upset, just seemed to leave the woods from then on but I sorta declared war. My first order of business was to give them warnings, and hopefully scare them off. So I hid along the edge of the field where the logs were skidded out to, and played a war song on my drum. LOL, They all stopped work and stared in that direction and talked together. Then they picked up a log with the cherry picker and lifted it up a ways in the air as one of them stood on it and tried to get a better view. He couldn't see anything. So I circled to the other side of them and did the same thing. Over and over I circled them from all sides until they looked dizzy, beating on my drum and giving the occasional war whoop, as they tried to figure out what was going on, but never walked far from the log piles. Eventually after I would guess an hour or so, somebody started yelling and turned the radio on as high as it could go to "make me go away":). I spent the rest of the day watching the loggers working in the woods. As time went on, my anger and depression from seeing all of this got really bad, and I started cutting sticks and carving on them to give no doubt as to where they came from, then I would either stalk a skidder, or lay just a couple feet off a logging trail and whip them at their cabs hoping to scare them as they drove by pulling logs. They never could find me while I did this, but when I look back I can't believe just how foolish and desperate I was. So many times I had such dangerous situations. :( I would sometimes appear just long enough to be seen, and then hide before I could be caught. Only once did I actually run away, when I was in a bad area and had someone coming, but I'm quite sure that I wasn't seen. So sparing alot of sad details, this is how it went on for months. I either was in the woods fighting to drive them off, or I was in a state of complete and utter depression, never believing that there was a life beyond those woods I had come to love so very much. Finally it was winter, and the logging was over. Their last crowning act was to dump a 55 gallon drum of oil on the ground, which left a solid stream all the way to the river a good 1/4 of a mile away. I begged everyone to call the DEC to come clean it up, but no one wanted to get them involved, and wouldn't help me with their trucks for fear of looking like the guilty ones. So I spent an entire day carrying bucket after bucket of oily water back the 1/3 mile or so to my home and filled a couple of barrels with it. I finally just gave up in complete exhaustion realizing that I could never clean something like that up, it isn't possible. I felt like my life had come to an end after all of this, it was painful beyond expression. But God eventually worked things out in the end, to make these times temper my character, and teach me how to deal with situations without throwing sticks at people. :) Before long, I was working on a farm and eventually we were logging in his woods. It took awhile, but I came to realize that there actually is a way of selectively cutting logs and firewood, that can make the forest healthier. It took a long time to admit that one! :) And I never believed that it could happen, but now I can see how God has began to heal the woods again. Not yet anywheres as beautiful and peaceful as they once were, but still it seems a miracle for me to see. And finally the most important lesson that I came to learn, although it is not right to destroy this earth that God has given us to care for, no matter what man may do, it really doesn't truelly matter in the end. This earth in this sinful state, is not our Home. The woods that I still love, no matter how perfectly in order and balance they may seem to be, is still filled with corruption and death. This life is not what it was meant to be, but someday soon that will change. So lets focus on saving souls, not just trees and squirrels! :)

Save the Squirrels! And other Random Wanderings

2010-03-28T06:10:00.000-07:00

During my young years in the woods I had come to think of it as the place where I felt closest to God, the place where I felt more at home and at peace than anywheres I have ever known. I could see His hand and presence in every little thing that happened around me, and felt completely provided for and heard when I prayed. But as I started to grow older I began to struggle with how fake and contradictory most things in modern life seemed against everything I knew to be true. And it became an endless fight to protect all that I saw being destroyed, which soon became overwhelming and kind of out of control. In all, I am extremely thankful for the time that God gave me, and can now look back and see how He worked to form me and teach me through these things that there needs to be a balance. Now as I finally feel that I have a firmer grip on this way of life I don't think I spend enough time in nature. In some ways I feel like I lost alot that I once had. Anyways, here is a few stories from those times, that you may find amusing.
(with much thanks to Caitlin for her story request ;)

When I was probably 13 or 14, David an old neighbor kid that my mothers family had helped raise showed up at my Grandparents house after nobody hearing from him for several years. He and his wife were homeless and had hitchhiked from New Jersey, and needed a place to stay for awhile. My Grandparents always have taken in anyone who needs help, so they came to live with them for that summer. David immediately took a liking to me, and started to follow me out into the woods to help on my projects and accompany me on my travels. I never totally trusted him, but sometimes enjoyed the company. I had a habit of picking the brain of anyone who could give me any knowledge of nature or survival, and he did teach me some things he had picked up in his wanderings. And often told me stories that were quite a stretch of the imagination, which he was already very well known for. ( When he was a teenager, he copied a chapter of "The Call of the Wild" and gave it to my mother saying he wrote it. lol) But the thing that I came to really dislike about him, was when he came to see my local squirrel and chipmunk friends as a food source. :( He went out alone with his BB gun one day, and came back with a collection of them. I was pretty mad, but didn't say anything about it to him. The next time that he decided to go hunting, he asked me to go with him. I had time to simmer by now, and a plan had started to arise, so I eagerly took him up on his offer and went to get my BB gun. We headed out into the woods, "stalking" squirrels, but in all honesty I was "accidently" stepping on every twig in sight. Obviously, most of the little critters were smart enough to hear my warnings and get out of there, but eventually it happened. We met a chipmunk who had too much bravery for his own good. He stood on his little rock pile, and ferosiously chipped away at us apparently hoping we would be intimidated by his little roar. ;) David now overjoyed, whispers "there he is! I'll give you the first shot!" My opportunity had finally come, I slowly raised my BB rifle, aimed a few inches to Chippy's left and fired. In a flurry of dry leaves and motion, he was gone as he received the merciful message and dived deep down into his burrow in the rock pile. :) IT WORKED! And so went the rest of our "hunt" that afternoon without a single casualty. Several fluffy little families are still alive today, thanks to my "good aim" and the ability to consistently not hit "his" target. LOL The funny part was that when we got back, he told his wife about how amazing of a shot I was. :) If he only knew that he was telling more of the truth than he realized! lol

Over time, I have come to dread deer hunting season probably more than any other time of year. My mother would make me wear an orange vest, which usually came off as soon as I entered the woods. (I'm sorry mom. :( If there was anytime of year that I felt I needed to blend in and go unseen, this was it. So one year, I formed an idea of how to apply my squirrel tactic to save the deer too. Being that I was able to spend so much time out there, the deer had started to see me as a non-threat, maybe a normal part of the woods. I had started to recognize individual does, and there was a herd of 8 in particular that I seen often and I felt were really special to me. Several times and in varying situations, I had stalked within just a few feet of them. I couldn't stand the thought of any of them being killed by someone who had no idea just how much individual character they each had. So I reasoned that they needed a fair warning in advance of the upcoming season. The day before it began, I cut a couple of my old t-shirts up into long strips and soaked these in a concoction of perfume. Squirrels rely on their eyes, but if you need to get a message through to a deer, you speak to the nose or ears. So I went to all of the furthest points of what I considered my Territory, and hung up my stinky strips of cloth while beating on my tin kettle and yelling. :) LOL I can't say just how successful my mission was, but I never personally noticed my herd get any smaller. I wonder how many hunters walking through the woods suddenly caught a hint of "Stetson" on the wind. lol

Not long after my wars with the logging crews had finally came to an end, I was 17 or 18 by that point and my experiances with all of that had made me overly zealous and bold in my protection of nature. It was a VERY painful time, to see most of the things I knew and loved being destroyed. I to a certain point feel much the same care for things today, but God has definately given me a very much more balanced and peaceful view. But anyways... Once again it was hunting season. I had gotten over trying to warn the deer by this stage of my life, and went straight to the root of the problem tracking and warning the hunters. So one fall day I was out working on something in my parents yard, and I heard bird calls moving in the woods across the road that could only mean that someone was over there acting sneaky. Bluejay "Sneak" calls are even more obvious than just the regular human alarms. So I rushed to get my normal everyday "Iroquois woodsy clothing" on and my hatchet, and then stuck a big antler handled knife in the back of my belt(which I had never used otherwise) and fancy Gus-to-weh Iroquois headdress on my head just for more effect when I met this "trespasser." As I entered the woods I began to slowly move toward where I heard the calls. Through a crab apple - thorn apple grove, across a little grassy swamp, and as I was about to stalk up the wooded hill on the other side I caught a motion half way up a tree and saw a hunter in his movable treestand just a few hundred yards across from our house and facing it too. This part really made me upset. I was coming from his left side, so I backed back into the swamp and circled to the far back of his treestand, and from there I began my stalk of the "hunter" who was "watching for deer" lol.

I easily reached the back of tree that he sat in, and stood there for a moment waiting for the right moment to appear and hoping I wouldn't be shot. I finally just stepped around the front of the tree, and stood there pointing up at him with obvious displeasure at his presence. LOL He probably could have fell out of his stand he jumped so high with a moment of sheer terror on his face, which he never totally overcame in our short conversation. I am so lucky that he apparently never realized that he was holding a gun at that moment. "Ahh! Don't ever go sneaking up like that!" "You are not supposed to be here, LEAVE." "I have permission to be hunting on this land." "No one has permission to hunt here." Then followed a long session of staring at each other, he still looked like he thought he was having a dream.

lol, After a time of silence, I walked off to his right and into the field. As soon as I reached the far side and was out of his sight, I circled around again to watch him from a distance, as he climbed out of his tree, packed up his equipment and walked out into the field and across to his truck parked down by the river. And that is just about the way that many of my "evictions" played out, but that was the only one where I actually got to see my success. I hoped and prayed that he wouldn't ever come back. I at that time knew the deer's daily patterns almost literally right down to the minute, and he was way too close to being in the right place at the right time. I had watched a young buck and doe come to the crabapple trees and eat several times before, right at or a few minutes after 5pm. I would go over there, climb my tree, and have them without fail eating under me in less than 5 minutes.

Now on to another story from just 2 years ago. Camp Cherokee, Outdoor School. It is fall, getting colder. I had been talked into taking 11 little school kids and their teacher on a 3 night survival campout. Now if you want to know stress, this would be it. Here I am, feeling completely out of tune with the woods, having not practised my survival skills or stepped foot in the forest for a very long time, with a light rain falling and a big thunderstorm coming, basic food (a small bag of flour each and a couple other little things), a blanket each, 1 big kettle to purify all of our water in which also doubles for cooking and both activities rely on the iffy business of making a fire, and each kit is complete with a $1 Wal-Mart pocket knife that falls to pieces about the moment you take them out of the package. To make matters worse, they didn't let us get going until mid afternoon. (I feel like I'm having a breakdown just thinking about it now! :) So I lead these 12 poor innocent victims into the Adirondack hills, perfectly convinced that none of us will ever be seen again. I had only had to live for myself up to this point, never with a whole helpless tribe to care for, lol. So we wander around looking for a shelter location that has all of the necessary requirements, and finally settle for less than perfect.

give a hurried speech on shelter building, and divide them into groups to get started. Didn't happen. The girls all braided each others hair, while the boys disappeared well out of the range that I had set for our camp. The rain falls harder, the kids all keep playing and or arguing, and I begin to give a heated lecture on hypothermia. lol. Finally, a couple of girls gather a 1/2 dozen sticks and I see hope! To make a long and tiring story short, I ran from site to site like a madman, and basically built 3 debris huts for the girls (with a little help when absolutely insisted on) and eventually found a huge uprooted helmock tree whose roots made a perfect cave for the boys and set them to work leveling the slanted floor up with layers of logs, and then leaves, and finally sheets of moss. They are all built! It is getting late and I am ready to collapse, but we still need to go to our cooking area and try to get a fire going in the rain. At this point I wasn't up to carving a bow drill set, so I pulled my flint and steel striker set from my bag, and spent at least an hour shooting sparks at my damp and crumbing charcloth as everyone huddled in a circle around me and fills the air with the sound of chattering teeth, lol. FINALLY! as I was on my last little 1inx1in square of char, I managed to catch a spark and blow it into flame! HURRAY! We had a prayer of thanks, and built it up as big as we possibly could get it. I cut a chunk of canvas from the inside back of my colonial waistcoat to make more char for next time, the water finally boiled after hours of trying, and everyone filled their bottles. A very, very long process for 13 people. And all retired to our shelters for the night. All night it stormed, but I was so very satisfied in the morning to hear that every shelter stayed completely dry, and the only complaints from all was that they were too warm! A 2 or 3 ft thick layer of leaves, can be mighty good insulation you know! :) And from there on, it was all really quite enjoyable and easy for everybody once we had shelters and fire. We collected food, spent endless hours boiling water, built bowdrills, hollowed out a log to rock boil, and made all manner of useful native tools. But the only other mishap was our birchbark torches, lol, it was so hilareous to see!

It was 2 am and we had JUST finished supper. :) Every one was tired but very happy and good natured. Our problem was that it was completely dark out and we had a long walk back up the hill to our campsites. No problem! So I go to a dead birch log, peel several handfuls of bark, and cut 13 stick handles that are split and fitted with the birch strips. TA DA! TORCHES! So I give them all their own with the warning to only light 2 or 3 at a time so that we will have enough to get back up the hill. I light mine and start walking, and soon I am followed by 12 other lit torches. :( all we would have needed was one person to follow my advice, but half way up the hill one by one POOF! POOF! POOF! They all go out almost on cue. lol So now that leaves all of us standing in the pitch blackness, and kids are screaming everywhere around me. So I managed to rally them to follow my voice until all was grouped together, calmed down and accounted for. In my mind the scariest part was that there was a little 10 ft rock drop off to our left, so not wanting any wanderers I had everyone stay with Ms. Johnson until I could find the camp and call for them. After walking through the dark, trying to gauge distance and picture the lay of the land by the steepness under my feet, I stepped into the leaves of one of the shelters and had the group follow my yell. Which was quite an ordeal as well. :) I'm sure they will never forget that experience! LOL But the thing that really sticks in my mind, was a point in that torturous first day when I was franticly trying to finish those shelters, and there was a very distinct click in my mind and my old lost woods frame of mind was back. It sounds funny I'm sure, but all of a sudden I felt like I knew what I needed to do, and where to find what I needed, and it wasn't stressful anymore. Kinda strange, but its good to know that all that I've forgotten is still in there somewheres! :) Maybe someday I'll get this balancing act figured out?

Ye Olde Tale of de Commencement of de Weddin Journy

2010-03-22T19:05:00.000-07:00

Say fine companions, I tell thee a story of my travels so far as of this dark soggy eve. Lend an ear if ye may have the time and will to do so. I received word by means of a fine peddler peddling copper pans, pots, and pails of the wedding and following picnic of Miss. Christy Kurtz of the Massachusetts colony. Formerly of the New York colony, and ever a brave soul often found to wander abouts the Tennessee frontiers for several yeers of her girlhood. As I would have fear of many other maidens in that hostile land, but Miss Kurtz has been known to hold her own in a hatchet throw, and mingles well with the Natives oft times being spyed to wear those

dreadful abominations upon her feet known to some as mokkasens.

So being informed as of this day, and less than four and one half fortnites before the joyus occashun and my due time to arrive upon de Maine Territory, (I no less fear I do not understand her draw to these far and dreary territories, but never to speak such things am I commonly to be) I dropped my plow, filled my haversack nigh full of hardtack, and cast my GreatCoat upon my shoulders (and a great coat it may also be.) and lept upon the back of my fair mare Tory. (Now a tory she nay not be, but a fine rebel indeed.) I trotted north easterly over all civilized trails of dae New York colony (at a perfect post I may add)

until the woods thickened with fir and began to grow rocky and of a fair steepness. I are't to see that I traveled ouert the land of the savage Mohawk. Aye it be fearful. But I knew Tory to be fleet of feet and sound of steady mind, so I proceed onward where other men dare not to be. Oft less in times of such as this.

Suddenly my own mare's ears begin to twitch ot ay sound in near bushs. I see the Mohawk party and nare escape with my scalp and life, as Tory puts many furlongs between us and the savage british allies.

I be of much kind luck they never ride, but walk at all times. Never de less, my stocking was to be lost in the briars. I do not believe that I could leave my fair settlement alongs the banks of Little River and be absent of a kneesock with no observance of such? Nay my mind be better than that! Aft long day and late eve of riding in steady rains, I be secure to be out of the Mohawks grasp for the dark and a time of rest till de morn. So thy sincere writer was to hobble his mount, find his camp and spark a fire, savor a lean meal of hardtack, and eagerly pull his laptop from his haversack to log his fair and honest tale on ye olde site of ye blogger, as de shadows flickered in de Aspenglow...... Miss. Christy, and Mr. Barry, ye nay not know all I art to have to face over de long treacherous trail to Maine territory but I be looking forward to thy wedding very much so, ... and de viddles truth be told...

DE ENDE

Holes in my Soles

2010-03-21T16:50:00.000-07:00

It's that time of year again, after likely hundreds of miles and an encounter with my mothers dog, I need to make some fresh footwear for the summer. I have big plans, lol. To quote Doddridge, an 18th century colonial frontier traveling preacher, "dae are just a decent way of goin barefoot." He wasn't the most flattering documenter of his frontier congregations, lol. I'm going all out this time, iroquois style beadwork, the works! lol, unless I get lazy. If I feel really motivated, maybe I'll go for porcupine quillwork :) Now I just need to find a poor deceased porky to slap w/ my shirt, and borrow a coat from an unfortunate jaywalking whitetail...;) Now that will make an educating post! (as my last layer of pride falls away, lol)

MANLY MOCCS

Fighting like Cats n Dogs

2010-03-21T12:40:00.000-07:00

I thought this was sorta cute :) and now for those of you who like myself, feel the need for exacting definitions

DOGMATIC = expressing rigid opinions: prone to expressing strongly held beliefs and opinions

CATEGORICAL = absolute and explicit: leaving no room for doubt, question, or contradiction

Looks like a typical dog-cat relationship.

But Poor Richard once said, "He that would live in peace & at ease, Must not speak all he knows, nor judge all he sees." ;) Theres a lesson fur ur critters

Employee of the month, He works like a Dog!

2010-03-07T11:14:00.000-08:00

Over the years as I have worked on various building projects, I have come to notice two things about my work style. First of all, I get so focused on finishing my current project that I seldom take time to clean up woodscraps or tools, until I absolutely have to in order to move on. And secondly, I generally get much more done when I am working by myself. I just don't like taking the time to explain how to do something that I could do myself in less time. Therefore, anytime I have hired someone to help me on a particular job, they usually end up standing around watching me work. Which really don't bother me half as much as it often does them. Well, those days are past! I finally found the perfect work partner, he cleans up after me and I don't have to explain anything, and he is a pleasant little guy to have around. He happily works with me through out the day, as he wags his long tail. Yup you read me right, it is my cousin Chad's dog Morgan.

I just started a job, extending a porch and turning it into a sunroom-mudroom on to Chad's parents house. So far it is going really fast, and smooth thanks to Morgan. Lol, as soon as I cut off a scrap of wood, he grabs it and sets it in a neat pile just off the porch. :) If I'm not producing enough scraps for him, he runs off to the woods and starts dragging back some considerably long dead branches to add to his wood pile. He's an industrious pup, Lol. Chad is just happy that he has a dog that will collect firewood for him.

Now, we just have to talk wages and check up on the legality of our parnership. :) Does anyone know if I will need workers comp? I wouldn't want him to get a sliver in his tongue. Lol And worse than that, he has gotten pretty anxious to grab chunks before they even fall off my miter saw. "Sit Boy, we have to Speak about this..." LOL

Strategies for making new friends. Well... Maybe not?

2010-03-02T17:20:00.000-08:00

My Current blog picture in my continuing cycle, reminds me of something that happened a couple years ago just 100 feet or so from where that was taken. Like probably everyone of you as children, I grew up enjoying hide and seek and any other games that challenged my skills of "elusiveness." The thing is though, at about the same time most of you were growing out of such things, I was just beginning. Lol. I started to read books by Tom Brown Jr, and realized that there is truelly a very, very intricate science to the skills of both not being seen, and being aware enough to see and know what is going on around you in nature (and society ;) not my strong point though). Being a homeschooler I had lots of time, and spent every possible moment in the woods anyways, so although I had ALOT to learn I still was given the opportunity to see and experience many things that are quite uncommon. So many stories I have never told anybody, because I know how hard they would be for me to believe. Well, this isn't one of those amazing unbelievable stories. Lol, but it is kind of funny anyways.

There is a place that my family likes to visit called Whitaker Falls, and usually we camp there a few days each summer. So on one of those days, I woke up just as the sky was starting to glow and went for a nice long peaceful walk through the forest that boarders the river. And on my return I went down by the falls and spent some time sitting along the pool at its bottom. It was full daylight by then, and the air was just starting to warm, so an idea came into my head. I half expected my cousin Chad (my naturey partner) to be looking for me soon, and half wondered what animals would happen by, so I decided to find a place to sit sorta out of the way. There is a crack in the rocks at the base about 2 feet deep a dozen or so ft long, and just barely wider than my shoulders that is filled with still and kinda stagnant water and hundreds of minnows. So I put some mud on my face, found a small mat of moss to set on the top of my head, and submerged myself leaving only my nose and eyes above water. I lay there studying minnows as they studied and nibbled on me for no more than 15 minutes and I started to hear voices coming on down the rocks. A little while later they walked past me and went over to the falls. It was 3 teenage boys, you know the type, tough as could be and they knew it, real manly men, Lol. So I lay there and listened and watched until all of a sudden one of them starts to walk towards my little pool and stands at my feet peering into the water presumable at the minnows. Lol, I love that look on peoples faces when they have no idea that they are looking straight at you. :) His 2 buddies were soon close behind him, although not quite as interested in my particular pool. I could have stayed there and they would have wandered away, but I have such a hard time not taking advantage of such situations! Lol, My foot was wedged in a crevice at the bottom, so I slid it out slowly and watched his face as my body floated to the top. LOL, Such a transformation I have never seen! Lol Mr. Tough Guy let out a girly scream and took off like a lightning bolt up the rocks just barely ahead of his two companions once they had seen "The Swamp Creature" stand up out of the water and their "Champion" head for higher ground. Lol They made it all the way to the top before any of them turned around to see me laughing my head off and rolling around on the rocks below. Lol We had a kinda jumpy conversation shouting back and forth, and once the adrenaline wore off, they were laughing as hard as I was. I followed them to the top, and they still kept a close eye on me, but began to bombard me with dozens of questions. It always happens this way, my favorite time was when an amazed little girl and her mother both on horses (that was just about to step on me if I didn't stand up soon, :) seriously asked if I was an indian who still lived in the forests with my tribe. Lol. I usually try not to go popping out of weird places anymore :) Usually

Flood season, at Pizza Hut

2010-02-28T17:45:00.000-08:00

So tonight while on our way to take my brother Jacob back to Union Springs Academy, we stopped at a Pizza Hut for a special supper, and I found how I'm gonna "make my fortune!" We were given our menus, and we stared and debated for at least 15min, almost as if we didn't all already know that we were going to get a large mushroom pizza just like we always have. Common knowledge by all, but still a part of the pizza hut ritual we all have come to enjoy over the years. So our drinks are brought to us, and within moments of delivery Jacob managed to dump his all over the table and on to my mothers lap. Yet another Pizza Hut ritual, Lol (mom says she can remember at least 7 different times that she has been soaked by someone at pizza hut! 3 of which was by waitress'.) So there is a great rush to evacuate our booth as every eye in the room is riveted to the excitement, and the waitress VERY begrudgenly brings us a stack of napkins to mop up our mess. Finally things begin to calm, and Jacobs cup is removed from his reach, it looks like we might be able to finish our meal. We all finish with our embarrassed laughter and joking, and the subject turns to more serious things. I don't even know what I was talking about, but it must have been pretty important because my hands were flying all over the place. And I need not say any more do I? I was polite enough to only soak myself. ;) We all jump to our feet again like a buncha Pentecostals, and all of those around us begin to slowly inch towards the doors. Lol So I go alert our delightful waitress to my perdicament with many apologies, and she starts steaming and turning red. Now I wouldn't go doing this again, but I am considering cornering the market on seamless gutters for those pizza hut tables. Lol, I just need to compile the spill statistics from "Huts" across the nation, and the contract is MINE!

JUST TWO MORE HAPPY PIZZA HUT CUSTOMERS THANKS TO THE INNOVATIVE NEW "CHASE BOOTH GUTTER SYSTEM"

Come around here, and I'll hit ya with the book! ;)

2010-02-28T05:57:00.000-08:00

I've have always loved to read and was extremely interested in studying everything I possibly could, so my Grandparents on both sides did their best to supply me with GREAT amounts of books. But my very favorite as a young reader, was an Orange encyclopedia set. There was always something new to learn, and I spent hours and hours pouring over them page by page every evening.

I was thinking of this last night, and that reminded me of something I used to do when I was quite little. As soon as visitors would show up, I would hurriedly count heads and rush to my book shelves to find the exact encyclopedia volume that would most interest each one. Lol. Once everyone was seated in the living room I would emerge with my stack of orange books and hand them out to everyone, Lol. When I think back, I am amazed at how often so many people would act interested and would point out little facts from their book for me. This made me feel so good! And of course if they didn't read their recommended volume, I still felt obligated to entertain, so I would go look for a more proper volume and give them pointers on which pages they should be focusing on. :) My vast array of Indian and Nature books was my last resort, and I wasn't above reading to my chosen illiterate slacker in my quest to educate those around me. :)

Now I'm kinda curious about what happened to those encyclopedias. But for some reason we don't seem to get any visitors anymore? Hmm...?

Just another Sabbath afternoon ride

2010-02-27T14:23:00.000-08:00

"Rocking" w/ John Denver? An oxymoron? I think not!

2010-02-21T19:37:00.000-08:00

I can still remember that day in particular, just like it was yesterday, and after we talked about it today, I guess she can too. It was such a beautiful warm and sunny early summer day, just a little under 20 years ago. My mother and I was spending the day at my grandparents home just across town (listening to old records and playing on the floor). Then I can see the light streaming through the old farmhouse livingroom windows, and hear my mothers voice singing to me. Songs that didn't seem quite as familiar to me as they do today, but nevertheless were calming, peaceful, and beautiful. I still feel the discomfort of the arms of that old wooden rocking chair prodding me as I squirmed around trying to find a softer place in her arms.(I was a big baby, I probably was barely 6 months old in this picture! ;) Lol) It seems so funny to think of now, Lol. I don't think I ever found that comfortable spot that I was looking for, but thats O.K. because I guess I was awake to form these happiest of memories for all of these years later.

As I was growing up, my mother listened almost exclusively to "John Denver," and I believe that the values expressed in much of his music became one of the biggest influences of my life,(his goofy 70's "Folky Westernish" style of dress is quite another story altogether. ;) Yeah, I got my own goofy style!) . He most often sang simple songs about life, love, family, farms and the biggest thing that seems to set him apart was that they were filled with images from nature. My family had always encouraged me to notice and study all of the things out in nature, but I think his music is one of the first things to make me think that there was something special about the woods and to create an irresistable pull for me out there. Maybe I am biased growing up with it, but it seems to be true to all of those I know who listen.

So I still remember so clearly most of the songs that she sang as she rocked me on that day. And either directly, or indirectly, some of my favorites have come to be about children, or songs that my "Mommy" adapted to better fit her purposes as she sang. ( for instance, "My Sweet Baby", might be much better known as "My Sweet Lady." But we won't have to tell anybody now will we. Lol ) All of these years later, and now I often play them to her in the evenings. Lol, but I skip over the whole rocking thing, I remember how uncomfortable that was. Now I am just starting to get over a cold, and I just about lost my voice this morning and can still barely breathe, but I find it irresistable to sing when the urge hits me, so at least I am sure ya'll will enjoy the funny faces I can't help but make when I try. Lol

"Zachary and Jennifer" is one of my very favorites, especially the last line of the song.

"Annies Song" was a love song for his wife, but my mother seemed to think that it fit well enough for her baby, Lol. I think I can agree.

"My Sweet Baby," not the actual title, but I still like it much better. This is something along the lines of a lullaby, kinda-sorta. (This is the one I remember the clearest)

And "For Baby, for Bobbie" yet another love song that also became a song about children. Makes no difference anyways.

So if ya survived at least a few of those, here in lies my lesson for today. Don't ever think that children won't remember, enjoy them and spend time with them when they are still young and impressionable, fill their little minds with love and they won't ever forget that you did. I don't know about you, but I really feel like I had my life all figured out by time I was 3, Lol, what things I care about and strive for, haven't hardly changed a bit. And #2 if you ever find your self rocking your own child, be sure you sing a song you wont mind hearing in 20 years, over, and over, and over...

My Life Through Rose Colored Glasses, (subtitled) "What Teddy does when no ones watching"

2010-02-04T19:04:00.000-08:00

So this last fall I was picking through the garbage barrel looking at all of the wonderful things that my mother had thrown away, and I came across a pair of red tinted sunglasses. I was never one to lower myself to wear such things, but I had some experiences with the sun being in my eyes while driving in the mornings, so I thought hey why not, no one will ever see me! I tried them on, and it has changed my life forever....... (fades into a story, this very morning in fact!)

So once there was a certain carpenter who had a big green gas guzzling truck, so he put on his grungy green jacket, buckled his seat belt and began to drive his big green truck. Now don't get me wrong, it was a great green truck, but it just liked to guzzle more gas than this certain carpenter would have enjoyed pumping. So he was sad, can you see how sad this grungy green jacketed carpenter was! It's so sad!

Well, then out of no wheres, this little car came flying past the great green gas guzzling truck! "What!?" Exclaimed the sad carpenter, as he looked at his speedometer! "I'm doing 57mph just like always! You know, slow enough to not get a ticket from the nice policeman, and fast enough where traffic won't be piling up behind me! Ya know?"

So this certain carpenter began to get angry! Grrrr, why he could just, could just!!! Then a thought came into his head, "Thats right, I have my sunglasses! Everything is gonna be O.K. !! Yeah!! Well at first not much happened.

But slowly he began to be immersed in a happy world full of pinks, purples, and deep reds. "Why there isn't even any cold white snow in this pretty place he thought." This especially seemed to soften his raring road rage, he was back down to 57mph again, with at least 3 car lengths between him and the little zippy car.

With each passing mile the Rosey colored glasses worked their magic as the certain grungy green jacketed carpenter in the great green gas guzzling truck tootled along happily behind the zippy little car. Finally as the little car had no other choice but to turn down another happy highway, the smiling carpenter waved his last goodbye to the speedy little sporty car. "I'll miss you! Have a very nice trip!" He yelled out the window as the operator of the tiny vehicle stared on in confusion.

So once again the crazy carpenter, and the terrific truck rolled away in the distance. Visiting every hardware store they passed on their way into the sunrise... Such a happy ending, I love this story, and I KNOW you do too! Hurray!!!

O.k. So now it's official, I am certifiably insane. I not only wear pink sunglasses that makes me feel cheery, and very possibly might be womans for all I know, but I take pictures of myself, and write Dr. Suess books about myself in the third person. Hmmm, maybe I shouldn't be publishing this post? Oh well, I have no pride anyways.... and by the way, no little zippy cars were harmed in the making of this blog, and any and all resemblances of the characters to me or my truck, are strictly coincidental. copyright 2010

A Man after God's own Heart

2010-02-03T22:56:00.000-08:00

What must you do, or be to succede in life? How do you live to your fullest potential? Does it have anything to do with your dreams? Your bank account, how or where you live? etc, etc... I've been driving again, a time that inevitably for me is filled with deep thought, questions, and prayers. Often times I tend to forget that I'm actually heading somewhere, and that can get kinda interesting too, but that surely could be another post altogether.

My grandfathers name is Luther Lamont Skinner. If you have ever met him, he was likely either busily working around his old farmhouse or quietely sitting out of the way grinning behind those squinty gentle eyes. ;) But if I must pick one person that I would model to live my life like, without hesitation he would be it. He had dreams too, he wanted to be a pastor, and I know that he dreamed once of being a pilot. (He even made a pair of glider wings out of cardboard as a young teenager, and bravely ventured to jumped off the peak of his fathers barn roof. It had some kinks to be ironed out still. Lol) I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that there is so much more that he has never told me, or probably anyone, not usually being one to discuss such things. But before nineth grade he quite school to help his father out on the farm. He married my grandmother Dorothy Jean Larock I believe at 23, bought their first home, his old school house and rolled it down the road behind the tractor on logs for a couple miles, and up a rather steep hill and set it down on a basement he had laid. He spent most of the rest of his life farming, or working as a carpenter when ever he could find an odd job. Later in life after he lost the farm, he spent several miserable years working in a wire mill in town. I remember him coming home night after night with his shirts cut to shreds because of some mean spirited guy with tin snips he called a "friend." When I would ask, he would just laugh and joke about it and sew them back up again, I just though it was funny until I got old enough to really understand. My grandparents had 3 children, my mother and 2 uncles. I know it wasn't easy, but they were always provided for. When the bank took the farm (which God miraculasly worked out to give back a couple years later) they went out into the bean fields after the harvest and gleaned and canned enough green beans to live on through the winter. As bad as that might sound to us, now they all think of it as a wonderful memory. " The steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord, and He delights in his way. Though he fall, he shall not be utterly cast down; For the Lord upholds him with His hand. I have been young, and now am old; Yet I have not seen the righteous forsaken, Nor his descendants begging bread. He is ever merciful, and lends; And his descendants are blessed." Psalm 37:23-26 I can't begin to say how very much this promise means to me!

Growing up, I spent every single day I possibly could with my grandpa. I would follow him around and observe how he fixed things up, or remodeled the house. A thing I am so very greatful for now, to have a good career passed on to me without ever a single thought about what I was doing, or paying a dime for it. I always had a plan for a new invention, and he would always leave his never ending list of things to fix, and join me in the cellar workshop to build seriously every and anything you can imagine, we even build an elaborate little "cotton gin" that you put milkweed fluff into, and it seperated the seeds from the fluff when you cranked the handle! Just so that I could try my hand at spinning it into yarn, and weaving on a homemade loom. The blanket never turned out as good as the "gin" did. Lol. And I know he knew that, but that never stopped him from being there to help me work through the technicalities of my contraption. He helped me build bows and arrows, crossbows, goat wagons, a pack saddle, knives, re-haft dozens of axe heads, motor bikes, a 2 person bicycle, wooden sleds, snowshoes, wooden boxes galore (each with a secret compartment), furniture and shelves, a real wooden lock to put on one of my cabins that only opened with a special wooden key!, when I was 9 he gave me a room of his barn to turn into a museum and helped me fill it up with farm antiques, he even dammed up his little stream to make me a pond to float my boat in that he made for me out of an old mortar pan and lots of tar. There wasn't any idea that my young mind could come up with, that he didn't straight way go to the farthest reaches of his ability to make into reality for me. He has always shown the greatest of selfless love and endless patience, always without complaint. I don't know how many times I dragged him into the woods to help me pick the perfect tree for my next project. His love and interest in my life has been such a perfect example of what Jesus is like to me.

It is nearly 1am, and I probably should finish up, so I will try to get my thoughts across now. I have recently heard grandpa in a rare moment of opening up, say that he feels like he was a failure and didn't take care of his family how he wanted to. But I am here to tell you that when I look at life, that I don't believe that our ideas of success or how things should be, are hardly ever in line with Gods. I really think that we sometimes need to step back and surrender our lives and plans to His will. As much as I struggle with this, our idea of what we should become, or accomplish, is usually quite a ways from the mark. Grandpa is not a pastor, but I believe with all of my heart that he has touched more lives for Christ in his gentle, oh so quiet way, than he ever would of in that position. A Godly man or woman glorifies God by every action, and I know every one who has spent any time with Grandpa, has seen the character of God without him ever having to preach a sermon, or utter a word. His testimony is in his life. Things will never be perfect on this earth, Thankfully!! It gives us so much more to look forward to in Heaven. Although I forget this principle daily ( as often as I do where I left my tape measure or pencil, ;) I have come to at least sometimes learn to rejoice in trials. God brings So many beautiful things out of this ugly life. I love the stories of David, and my greatest prayer and desire has been for so long, to have God mold me into a man after His own heart. I've felt for so long like that prayer wasn't heard until just a couple of days ago while reading, it hit me just how much trouble David went through! That is Gods method of character development, I knew it all along, but it just makes sense now. There were so many times that David felt like God was not listening to him, had abandoned him, and so many times in my own life when the loneliness becomes unbearable and I begin to wonder if He really is there for me. So, I know this is not as well written as I want it to be, and I hope it makes sense without too many trails running in every direction, but I just want to remind everyone to live your lives to glorify God right were you are. You probably won't feel like you are accomplishing anything of worth, but you are where you are for a good purpose, and all you have to do is build up your relationship with Him and the world won't be able to avoid seeing Jesus in you. And your life faithfully lived is you at your greatest potential, everything else we think we need in this world is temporary and worthless. I really gotta sleep now! lol

Nothing New Under the Sun

2010-01-30T15:32:00.000-08:00

I thought this was pretty interesting, a 200 a.d. Roman multi tool.

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-1247230/The-Roman-Army-Knife-Or-ingenuity-Swiss-beaten-1-800-years.html

(from frontierfolk.net )

" Many historians credit Englishman Thomas Coryat, who having traveled "south" in 1608, wrote ao, in a book titled "Coryat's Curdities Hastily gobbled up in Five Months Travels in France, Savoy, Italy, &c.," published in London, 1611- as having introduced the fork to England.

I observed a custome in all those Italian Cities and Townes through which I passed, that is not used in any other country that I saw in my travels, neither do I thinke that any other nation of Christendome doth use it, but only Italy. The Italian, and also most strangers that are commorant in Italy, doe alwaies, at their meales use a little forke when they cut the meate; for while with their knife, which they hold in one hand, they cut the meate out of the dish, they fasten their forke which they hold in their other hande, upon the same dish, so that whatsoever he be that sitteth in the company of any others at meate, should unadvisedly touch the dish of meate with his fingers, from which all at the table doe cut he will give occasion of offence unto the company as having transgressed the lawes of good manners, insomuch for his error he shall be at least browbeaten, if not reprehended in words. This forme of feeding I understand is generally used in all places of Italy, their forks being for the most part made of yron or steele, and some of silver, but those are used only by gentlemen. The reason of this their curiosity, is because the Italian cannot by any means endure to have his dish touched with fingers, seeing all men's fingers are not alike cleane. Hereupon I myselfe thought good to imitate the Italian fashion by this forked cutting of meate, not only while I was in Italy, but also in Germany, and oftentimes in England, since I came home, being once quipped for that frequent using of my forke by a certain learned gentleman a familiar friend of mine, one Mr. Lawrence Whittaker, who in his merry humour, doubted not to call me at table Furcifer, only for using a forke at feeding but for no other cause.

Even through the 17th century, teh fork was more a matter of the upper classes who could afford the novelty of the status associated with them.

Some historians put the normally, usually, generally popular use of the fork in America just before the Civil War when etiquette shifted with the ways meals were eaten with the Service Russe replacing the Service Francais.
That being said, forks are claimed to be attributed to British soldier Rev War camps.

Four tyne forks date to Frnace in the lte 17th century as a way to deal with food sliidng off or fallling through the two tyne fork. "

Yup, I'm doing good

2010-01-27T15:34:00.000-08:00

LAST WEEK: I am done working for the day, I empty all of the odds and ends I have collected out of my pockets, and throw out all of the scrap papers. Lists, measurements, gum wrappers, old wiring diagrams, & my wallet.

LAST NIGHT: While filling up the outside wood furnace, I step on the hoe and it flies up and whacks me, I mumble at it. A moment later I step on it again with similiar results, and set it aside. Before I knew what hit me, I was attacked the third time, and finally it "hit me" that I should put it in exile far beyond it's effective striking range.

TONIGHT: While driving home I am coming fast down a hill with a truck tailgaiting me, I have to make a sharp left turn at the very bottom. So what else would I do, but crank down my left window as a signal that I was about to make a turn. I'm just glad that I didn't have to turn right! That could of been tricky, and what if I didn't get that window down in time? He would of NEVER known that I was making a turn. Disasterous!! Phew, was I lucky....

And I have noticed lately, that as I play my guitar in the evening I have been starting out playing one song and ending on another. Some very interesting medelys have come about. I am especially impressed when I change not only songs, but keys so seamlessly that I have no idea what happened. My skills must be improving!? I don't know what is going on with me, most weeks aren't this good! And it's only wednesday.....

My little sister?

2010-01-26T17:29:00.000-08:00

Fuzzy head, excessive facial hair, and a big funny looking nose, I know what your thinking, " Its gotta be some relative of Teddy's." But she aint no kin on mine, blood relation at least ;) This goofy looking ball of whitish fluff is my mothers poodle Natalie. She also answers to doodle bug, pom-pom head, fuzzy wuzzy, but generally just "Hey Poodle!" Pretty much anything that has to do with fluff, or rhymes with poodle.

So by now you are wondering why I am rambling on about something that only the very boredest of you might care about, well... The night after taking this picture, I lay awake until at least 2:30 thinking about this big cotton wad, and all of the little adventures we have had together. Needless to say, I was too busy laughing to sleep. So if ya don't mind, I think I'm gonna share just a couple.

As far back as I can remember, I thought that I wanted a dog to take in the woods with me. My problem was that my mother raised Shih-Tzu's, and roaming the forests with a pack of ankle high, longhaired, "woodchucks" with bad attitudes, just didn't fit the romantic picture I had in my head. So I spent years teasing for a big dog, a german shepherd, husky, retriever, lab, anything manly that I could take with me on my expeditions into "the forbidden forests" that I routinely enjoyed trespassing on. So imagine my surprise when I was about 15yrs old, and my parents called me and told me that they got a puppy! I was so excited, I can still see that front door opening (in slow motion) as Natalie comes running across the kitchen floor to me. About half way across, I started to get the suspicion that this might not be the manly dog I put my order in for. Lol "What!? you got a poodle! Why are you doing this to me! I can't go out in public with that!" etc... After much deliberation, and possibly even a few tears, I secured a promise that she would never, ever be given a poodle cut. " The fact of what she truly is, must never leave this room! O.k?" Lol

So now I have fallen in love with her, and we are about ready to head off into the snow covered hills for our first big trek, but there is one problem. Natalie has a habit of running away and being gone for hours before returning home, and if any of you have ever tried to walk a dog on a leash in the woods, you know that invariably if you will pick the left side of the tree they pick the right, and vice versa. So I quickly find the perfect solution. I took a long strip of soft leather, and hobbled her front legs together and we were off! So now instead of little woodchucks, I have a big floppy eared, cropped tailed, white rabbit hopping happily behind me as I explore. That worked wonderful, until her hairy feet collected big snow balls that froze to her fur. So from then on she wore 2 pairs of my socks, held on with rubber bands, and her hobbles. It was just like I had always imagined! I finally had my manly woods dog! Lol ;)

Just a couple of years down the road, and I am working on an OOLD fashioned farm that lies exactly 5 miles away. I was much more full of energy than I could ever hope to be again, and I loved to run. So I would get up bright and early every morning run to work, work a long hard day, and run home, and most days never think anything of it. Weekend would come, and with no place I had to run to, I would go out for an even longer run just for the fun of it. Well one day, I decided that Natalie might like to go with me. So we take off and she is dragging me for quite a while, of course I enjoy it because it gives me a challenge to keep up with her. well a few more miles into it, we are keeping pretty good time with each other, and we keep going. (probably both panting with our tongues out. :) At what I figured up was about 8 miles, Natalie puts on the brakes and collapses in exhaustion. I am kind of smug and proud of myself at this point, that I won the race, so I start to walk back towards home and she is too tired to stand, let alone walk. So I put her up on my shoulders and head home, probably looking for all the vehicles passing by like a shepherd heading home with his little lost lamb. A while down the road she starts getting restless up there, so I put her down and let her walk. Half way home, we are passing this house and I see it has a big black dog in front of it. I walk a little more quitely, Natalie fully recuperated by this time, starts barking and growling and tugging on her leash. The black dog, sees us and takes off running at full speed not looking one bit happy to see us. He is gaining ground, more than half way to us now, and my loud mouthed lamb starts to think twice about what she started and she literally jumps into my arms!!! Lol you should of seen it, here I am holding this big fluffy whimpy poodle up as high above my head as I could, as that dog is barking and growling at us standing just a few feet away. Luckily the woman who owns him was in their garage and came rushing out to save us, after apologies were exchanged we set back off for home. A short ways down the road I tried to set her down, but she was very sure by this point that she was going to ride out the rest of this horrible trip I forced her to go on with me. Lol

This is only the beginning, but it is sufficient to say that I have come to appreciate that clown regardless of breed. ;) She absolutely loves to stand up and wrap her fluffy little arms around my waist and give me a "poodle hug" while I rub her soft curly little head, and it has become a ritual that is expected of me every time I am leaving, or coming home. If I forget to, I am not easily forgiven. Lol So much for a manly dog, I wonder how huskys feel about hugging?

Do you pick up wet and smelly hitchhikers?

2009-12-26T23:50:00.000-08:00

9:00 tonight, it is wet and cold. We are through half of my mothers almost 6 hr. paper route. A commonly eventful weekly routine that has been going on for the last 24 yrs. I must admit that I do enjoy it far more than is considered normal by most anybody who has experienced it.
So on this back country road we glimpse 2 dark shadows coming our way through an open field. We pass by and then my mother has a thought, could it be we have had the good fortune of running into the latest talk of the town? The runaways with the price on their heads, a bounty of $2500 why that could buy a small economic used car with minimal rust, or even almost pay for my trucks fuel for an entire month! Wow, we are going back! So we do, and much to my surprise it is true. Two black labs looking lost and lonely, my next thoughts are what if they run? I quickly decide that anything worth that much hasn't a chance of escaping me. I don't have anything that important planned for tomorrow anyways! So my mother opens her door and calls "here doggy, doggy" as my adrenaline builds and muscles tense for the glorious chase. Very much to my surprise, they dive in over her and the youngest looking aromatic prodigals pooch takes up residence on my lap. I cant believe it! That was way too easy, (O.K. whats the catch huh, I ask my self.) We begin to go over what we can remember of the "Wanted Poster" we had just seen an hour ago posted on the gas stations wall. 2 black labs, "Dock", and "Wyatt", one with a red collar and the other with a blue, both tagged. So here is where our dreams begin to fade, lol. Wrong color collars and no tags, ut oh... Do you think that their real owners will miss them I ask, maybe they will put out an even bigger reward? Lol no I didn't say that, but we did decide that It wasn't worth the chance. Especially when two cars went slowly by, Probably wondering why their dogs were hijacking our car. So after much deep deliberation we decide to let them go with a warning, my mother opens her door once more and the longer haired wanderer steps back out into the rainy night. My new aquaintance has settled in and has other thoughts. " You have to go now." (no thats alright I was heading this way anyways.) "Come on now I am done with you, get out." (do you know how much I'm worth! Come on just take me home, you wont regret it, etc, etc...) So after much wrestling and clawing I manage to throw him in the back seat from which we opened the door and he begrudgently joins his much more sobber traveling companion. To be truthful, I did not want nor ever intend to accept the reward, but it did make a much more interesting story though didn't it.?! We were still a little bit concerned that we had re-lost somebodies dogs, so we hunted down the number on the posters and called the family of the "truly" lost labs to confirm that we had indeed made the correct decision. I feel relieved of that much, but I am sure that our 2 impersonaters are still just a little bit perturbed to be exile from the once dry car. The moral of this story, please don't pick up hitchhikers no matter how innocent and cold they may look. You just never know how hard you will have to work to get them back out again. Lol "IT BE TRUE I TELL YA!!"

Just a few minutes with a field

2009-11-06T09:32:00.000-08:00

A few days ago I saw some things I thought were pretty interesting, all within the same field and within minutes of each other. First thing to catch my attention was the big flock of crows flying in the distance. Half of them looked the brightest shiny silver, just like reflecting mirrors, and the other half were run of the mill black. As they flew, they took turns changing colors, it was really cool to see how the sun did that. It was quite overcast too. I've never noticed their feathers reflect to that degree before. Kind of looked like little "ufo's" lol.

And then, a hawk came flying across the field sooo, sooo slowly, working a zig-zag pattern against the wind no more than 3 or 4 feet above the ground. I mean, I could of walked across that field faster. Finally it saw what it thought it wanted, and hit the ground coming up with a big rat, flew another 40 or 50 feet or so, and dropped it. Rather than going back, it just continued on it's low and slow "stalk" across the field and out of sight. Made me wonder if the rat bit the hawks feet, or if the hawk "just didn't feel like having rat again"?

Maybe a minute or two later, just down the field on the opposite side of me a coyote appeared and was curiously trotting towards the center. It was amazing to see how its coat blended in so perfectly, even though it wasn't an exact color match with it's background. A truck rolled by on the boardering road, and I saw the smoothest disappearing act of my life as the coyote ducked behind a very small clump of dead grass, and was as good as gone. Never to be seen by my eyes again, well... for that day at least.

christy made me

2008-08-12T18:00:00.000-07:00

hello demo