Changes

Looks like a nice day out today. Betcha it’ll hit about 84-85 degrees by 2pm…

My bones been cold so long, I think I’ll just go stretch out in the sun somewhere, leaning on a big old oak tree, and soak up them rays, filtered through the branches and leaves. Maybe I'll read a book, or simply sit and watch the ducks down on the river, splashing around, or the squirrels, playing and chattering up in the treetop. The flowers are getting purty again, too. I can almost see the grass growing - it's been shooting up an inch a day at least, for the last week or so.

It will feel good to be warm again. But I do like the winter and the snow. This is just the first of those pangs of wishing for something I cannot have taking over. Give it another two months and I'll be saying, isn't this ever gonna end? But if it weren't for the periods of coldness, we wouldn't much appreciate the warmth, now would we?

I suppose we all have that pang of dissatisfaction, in some form or fashion, all too often. We're given beauty and life and can't quite be satisfied with what we've got. I bet in the springtime when things start getting green again - it'll be raining too much. And in the summer, when everything is growing like mad, it'll be too hot. And the autumn... Well. I bet it'll be perfect. Just for a moment.

Then, it'll be gone.

Christmas Wishes

I am sure my one fan (if he or she is not, in fact, simply a figment of my imagination) would probably like me to post something meaningful. I have all the good intentions to do so.

I will again be writing meaningful content (okay, meaningful to me only - but take what you can get). Someday. But for now, I'll just post another picture.

I'm glad I started bringing my digital camera along with me on my daily trek into work. There's been some nice shots lately. Today's is from last evening's sunset atop Peter's Mountain (a good place to take a picture almost anytime!)



At any rate, the title of this post is Christmas wishes. It's not Christmas yet, but just in case I get away and don't get back to this, I do hope each and every one of you have a very Merry Christmas (or, if you prefer, a Hootin' Hollerin' Happy Holiday).

Appalachian Trail on Peter's Mtn

One of the things I really like about Pennsylvania (and western and northern Arkansas as well), is the wonderful people who live here. The other great thing is the natural beauty that surrounds us each and every day. In the springtime, here, it's the fresh green on the trees... Summertime has stripes of land where corn and other crops grow like crazy, and fall has the autumn colors, and winter... Winter is finally here.

This morning, driving into work, I crossed Peter's Mtn between Halifax and Dauphin PA, where the Appalachian Trail crosses, and although overnight the temperatures in town had risen to higher than freezing, on the mountain, it was still cold enough at sunrise to have ice coating all the trees.

I thought it was beautiful, and took these shots while I was driving along.

Cold

This morning on the way to work, they said the temperature was 4 degrees. A few minutes later, however, it had warmed up to a right balmy 5.

By afternoon, it made it somewhere in the mid-twenties. Now, 10pm, it's around 18. Not gonna get cold tonight, I think.

Course, we've got weather moving in. 1 to 3 inches of snow tomorrow... ice tomorrow night, then a few more inches of snow, if we believe the weatherman!

Sounds like a fun end of the week coming up.

Belsnickle Parade

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If you ever want to hear what the "Amish" Night Before Christmas is like, there's a version of it available, just like the redneck "Night Before..." The main character is a Santa-like character called the Belsnickle.

Saturday we went to the "Belsnickle Parade" in Halifax. There was snow on the ground, and there weren't many people there to see. Our Girl Scout and her troop all dressed up in very old fashioned dresses and marched, and got a good place in the judging, winning for the troop a nice cash sum of $100.

The first picture is of my son standing under a rather largish tree, near the parade route. Just a cool picture of a boy and a tree, nothing at all to do with Belsnickles! The second picture is of the Girls Marching in their dresses, singing Christmas carols. And the last picture is my daughter, wearing a dress handmade by the assistant scout leader.

More Pictures Part 3

Peter's Mountain, with the Appalachian Trail running atop,

is on the side of the valley, straight ahead of this shot,

but you can't see it because after the snow stopped,

and the sun started to shine,

there was still fog on the mountain.

I just happened to see this and was lucky enough

to snap the picture before it was gone.

Taken from Powell's Valley Rd

12/09/2005

More Pictures Part 2

Driving up Peter's Mountain

Dauphin, PA

12/09/2005

More Pictures Part 1

Church on Powell's Valley in Enterline, PA

Morning of 12/09/2005

S. E. P.

I don't like to write posts on the fly. I really do like to sit down and think about something worth writing, write it, and check it for grammar, and spelling, and then, cut and paste it into blogger.

This all assumes that you have the time to spend. I am guilty, often, of having way too much time on my hands. Sometimes, this is a very, very bad thing, as idle hands and minds tend to get themselves into trouble. But, usually, it makes for a fairly relaxed working environment, and as "fires" need to be stomped out, I hop on them and do it.

But, today, and probably for the next few, I am going to be busy on a project. It doesn't even matter the nature of the problem, but... I'll just describe it as an S.E.P. This was Douglas Adam's acronym for Somebody Else's Problem.

In one of his books, a spaceship landed in the middle of a ball game, in England, and no one could see it. That is, it was there. But, they didn't choose to see it. Their minds blocked it. They ignored it. It didn't exist, in their perceptions.

At work, we had a problem, a couple of years ago, that probably should have been fixed, then. But, it was somebody else's problem. I pushed and pushed and pushed for a "right" fix, but, there were other priorities, other projects, and no one wanted to pay the bill, take the responsibility, and eventually it shuffled off into a corner and got quiet.

And now, people are trying to "look ahead", to create a "roadmap" as it were for work, and I have resurrected this beast, this S.E.P., because now, since it was never taken care of before, it's an even bigger problem. It's one of those that isn't a problem, until something breaks, and then, it's a show stopper.

So, my posts may be few or far between, or they may not be - don't really know. All I know is if you do spot grammatical errors, or other problems, it ain't entirely my fault. It's S.E.P.

Snow...

Just had the first real storm of the season blow through... dumped several inches ... I didn't go out and measure, but I'd say at least five or six. It's pretty much stopped now (almost 8) even though they said it would be snowing till 11.

Work is on a 2 hour delay, and the school is actually closed today. I suppose I'd better quit being lazy and go shovel some snow so it doesn't pack down into something superslick in the driveway.

Pa Snow Pictures

The first one is from the tree farm, Sunday afternoon. I don't think that was the tree we ended up getting, but by the time we got there my batteries were dead.













This one is this morning's sunrise over Powell's Valley, a mostly agricultural area where we live. This picture is from a road the climbs over the hill to the next valley, maybe three or four miles from our house.












Another sunrise picture, taken this morning, in the next valley over...

Smoke

Sometimes, when I lay in bed at night, I think up these bright thoughts... Ideas for a new story or serious thoughts that should probably be placed on paper/keyboard, and once in a while, I get up and jot them down, but if I do, I tend to be up for a few more hours. So, sometimes, I just drift off to sleep, promising myself that I'll remember tomorrow, but I rarely do. It's kinda like waking up from a dream, drifting back off - and you can't remember the next day anything about it.

I had some thoughts last night, things I wanted to say, somewhere. But now, they're gone, like smoke in the wind.

Tree Hunting

Since we've lived here, we've gone and gotten a fresh tree each year. It's usually only $20 (this year went up to $25) and the farm we go to is only about a mile from our house, and they will either let you cut it or cut it for you, shake out the needles, core it if you've got that kind of stand, and bag it in netting, and mount it on your car, all for the same price. And don't forget the free coloring books and coffee and hot chocolate.

My son was saying on Saturday that we needed to wait until there was snow on the ground to go get the tree (last couple of years have been that way!). And, we woke up Sunday morning with about two inches of the white stuff. By Sunday afternoon, when we went to get the tree, a little of it was melted off, but not much. It's finally getting cold enough that this time it actually stuck on the roads a bit, too.

At any rate, we went and got a tree, and all the douglas firs, and other types of trees he had looked really cool there, with snow resting on the "leaves". The farm is only open Saturdays and Sundays, plus it's dark by the time we get home from work here, in December (almost full dark at 5pm), so we decided to go ahead and get it. We traipsed around just a bit, but the owner gave us an idea of where some trees about the height we were looking for were, and so didn't spend hours travelling through the acres and acres of trees. Everyone has an opinion - I like this one, no that one's too skinny, the top's messed up, or there's a gap in the side. But, finally, we found one that'll do...

Unfortunately, we spent the rest of the afternoon moving some furniture around the house and doing other things, and when I went to get the stand, I noticed a fine crack in the bottom of it. I am sure it would still hold the tree, but any attempts to water it would have ended up in the carpet (which actually probably did happen, last year). It was late enough, I didn't want to go all the way back into town and try to find one.

So, I got the stand, and a largish plastic cup, took them outside, and planted the tree in a cup of water, outdoors, and tonight we'll try that one again! I guess we'll have to get it in tonight, because overnight, they're calling for another 2-4" of the white stuff south of Harrisburg, and 1-2" up where we live... so we might have a 2 hour delay tomorrow. At least, the kids hope so.

And so goes life in Pennsylvania. If I can get the batteries in my camera recharged, I'll post a couple of pics of the snow covered trees (maybe tomorrow).

High Speeds

Look out!! I may be uploading more pics and if I don't post them here, maybe I'll post a link to them! I (finally) got high speed internet hooked up.

The phone company offered a deal, packaged with our satellite provider, and the discount on Dish Network, plus dropping the second phone line, and bundling some service that were seperate before, we couldn't afford not to upgrade. Umm.... welll......... okay, then, I suppose we could have afforded not to. Rather well.

But.... Now we have combined three formerly seperate bills into one, even if slightly higher one, and have joined the world of high speed internet! Whoo hooo....

First things first... the son wants the latest updates and patches to Star Wars Battlefront, and it is downloading slowly (I think) but compared to dial up, it ain't so bad.

Web pages sure do open a heck of a lot faster!!! Including this one. And now maybe I can get more of those really cool music downloads from The Electric Key Orchestra (visit www.theelectrickeyorchestra.com). My son, the musician, thought that the one-man ability to play so many instruments (through his synthesizer) was pretty darn neat! A thanks to the owner of the website!

I haven't posted much the last few days. Left work an hour late today, and it's just been one of those kinda weeks. I will try to do better in the future.

Later.....

Birches

I do not usually publish other folk's work here, but today, I will make an exception. Someone sent me this poem, and it's worth reading through. Two, three, even four times. It's one of those where you may see something new on subsequent readings.

When I see birches bend to left and right
Across the lines of straighter darker trees,
I like to think some boy's been swinging them.
But swinging doesn't bend them down to stay.
Ice-storms do that. Often you must have seen them
Loaded with ice a sunny winter morning
After a rain. They click upon themselves
As the breeze rises, and turn many-colored
As the stir cracks and crazes their enamel.
Soon the sun's warmth makes them shed crystal shells
Shattering and avalanching on the snow-crust--
Such heaps of broken glass to sweep away
You'd think the inner dome of heaven had fallen.
They are dragged to the withered bracken by the load,
And they seem not to break; though once they are bowed
So low for long, they never right themselves:
You may see their trunks arching in the woods
Years afterwards, trailing their leaves on the ground
Like girls on hands and knees that throw their hair
Before them over their heads to dry in the sun.
But I was going to say when Truth broke in
With all her matter-of-fact about the ice-storm
(Now am I free to be poetical?)
I should prefer to have some boy bend them
As he went out and in to fetch the cows--
Some boy too far from town to learn baseball,
Whose only play was what he found himself,
Summer or winter, and could play alone.
One by one he subdued his father's trees
By riding them down over and over again
Until he took the stiffness out of them,
And not one but hung limp, not one was left
For him to conquer. He learned all there was
To learn about not launching out too soon
And so not carrying the tree away
Clear to the ground. He always kept his poise
To the top branches, climbing carefully
With the same pains you use to fill a cup
Up to the brim, and even above the brim.
Then he flung outward, feet first, with a swish,
Kicking his way down through the air to the ground.
So was I once myself a swinger of birches.
And so I dream of going back to be.
It's when I'm weary of considerations,
And life is too much like a pathless wood
Where your face burns and tickles with the cobwebs
Broken across it, and one eye is weeping
From a twig's having lashed across it open.
I'd like to get away from earth awhile
And then come back to it and begin over.
May no fate willfully misunderstand me
And half grant what I wish and snatch me away
Not to return. Earth's the right place for love:
I don't know where it's likely to go better.
I'd like to go by climbing a birch tree,
And climb black branches up a snow-white trunk
Toward heaven, till the tree could bear no more,
But dipped its top and set me down again.
That would be good both going and coming back.
One could do worse than be a swinger of birches.

- Robert Frost

First Star

I do not often delve into the subjects of politics or religion, because too many people are too easily offended. I tend not to get too caught up in the rights or wrongs of either (or rights and lefts), I kinda form my own viewpoints based upon what I observe.

As for religion, I have, over time, read a lot of the bible... although I have not yet finished it. There are parts of the old testament that seem to present a God that is much different from the loving God that Christians are taught about in today's church. But, that's a conversation for someone else.

Someone asked me this:

"Pastor said that in order for a prayer to come true, you must first pray to Jesus, then Jesus "talks" to God. If you don't believe in Jesus or God or the Holy Ghost, then your prayer will not be answered. What do you think of this?"

Not to create a fuss, or "stir the pot" for anyone, but here was my answer. This is my viewpoints only, and anyone can feel free to blast me if they want to (comments are always welcome, even if you disagree with my philosophy).

I think that this is more or less the traditional "Christian" viewpoint.

On the one hand, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost are the "Trinity" or "one god". In the New Testament (and there's debate here), basically, the three parts make one God.

Our pathway, as Christians, to heaven, is through belief that Jesus died on the cross for our sins, and according to most "religious" Christian folks, that's the ONLY way to get into heaven.

And if you continue that logic, then the only way to get your prayers answered is to go the same route, through Jesus to God and so forth.

But then, my problem with it - all of it - is that I think of a 10 year old in Africa or India who never ever did a bad thing in his or her life, who died of starvation or illness - and they are going to tell me that he/she is a lost soul and cannot enter the gates of heaven because he/she never knew Jesus.

The next step in the progression of thought applies to prayer. If that child, who does not know of Jesus, prays in his innocent manner to whatever God may be there to listen, for forgiveness for some wrong that he has done or imagined, is "our" God not going to listen, because the child did not follow the right path?

So to answer your question - his thoughts are a traditional Christian viewpoint, but my thoughts are....

If you believe in Good, and you pray to the "Good One" - call him God, or Jesus, or whatever, if you truly believe, then maybe your prayers will come true, and maybe not....

There are some things that no prayers will ever change....

There are no guarantees....

But no, I do not personally agree completely with Pastor's viewpoints, even when I do believe that he means the best by teaching it.

-- I've wished many times upon the first star. Now, that is totally superstition... But suppose, just suppose, that I truly believed in it. Would my "wish" then be a "prayer," and might it not come true?

Star light, star bright,
First star I see tonight,
I wish I may, I wish I might,
Have the wish, I wish tonight.

I'm Dreaming of a White... Thanksgiving

Well, the snow done flied. Twasn't a lot, but when we got up this morning, there was a couple of inches, and it was melting off pretty good before noontime. Just thought I'd share. The top two pics are from our back door looking out.



This last pic, I just downloaded from the digital camera, was actually taken on October 26 (Jeremy's birthday) as I was getting home from work. The house on the right is mine, the left my neighbor's.

A Thanksgiving Story

Dog
Chapter 1
by Kate

Edited version:

A dog on a log.

How can that be?

"We will take him home."

But he will not move.

"So we will not take him home but if we feed him he might come home with us. Yes! He came home with us."

We will feed it dog food. We will take care of it.

"Wuff, wuff." the dog said, "Wuff, wuff."

It is cold outside. Let's go outside. I know we are. Let's get a treat for him. I hope Mom allows it. We love this dog. Yes, she allows it. Our Mom is nice.

The dog is thirsty. Let's give him something to drink. He is sleepy. Let us put a blanket in a basket for him.

Original version:

A dog on a log. How can that be. "We will take him home." But he will not moov. "So, we will not take him home but if we feed him he mite come home with us." We will feed it dog food. We well take care of it. Wuff Wuff, the dog sied. Wuff wuff. It is cold out sided. Let's go outsided. I know we are. Le's get a tryt for him. I hope mom alaws it. We love this dog. Yes she alows it. Our Mom is nise. The dog is thrsty. Let's giv him someing to dringk. He is slypy. Let us put a blaigcit in a bascit for him.

Traditions

We used to do this.
We used to do that.
We used to do something else.

We did them, time after time.
They became our traditions.
Then, life happened.
This fell by the wayside,
And that could wait till tomorrow,
And then we just never did something else anymore.


When we were kids,
We had our "things",
Our patterns, our traditions.

I can remember thinking, "What's going to happen to us after Dad dies?"

Somehow, Mom was always the one who was ill, but that was my question anyways.

Then, when he passed away, in November, 20 years ago this year, we lived. We made do. We existed.

Our "traditions" were put to the side, because life wasn't so simple, so easy. I grew up in a short amount of time, from 14 to 40 in a heartbeat.

Someone told me today that he can't believe I am only 34... I act so much "older".

What does that mean, anyway?

If I add 20 years to the 40 that I became 20 years ago, then that'd be 60. Does that mean I act like a sixty year old?

I suppose, my "public" face probably does look like that. I find myself laughing and joking, when it's appropriate, and serious most of the rest of the time.

I have become interested lately in "reflections". I put up a post recently of the reflection of a day gone by, a sunset framed by the mirror of my car.

I sit in traffic, and see the reflection of light on the side of a passing truck, and it interests me - it's a different view of the world. I look in a mirror, and I don't really see me. I see a face, but whose face is it?

Really, really good friends can help you see those parts of yourself that the public does not see, those parts of yourself that you yourself often cannot, alone. I published this one, too.

Thanksgiving is a time of reflection. We should reflect back on the year just past, with its good times, and its bad times, and try to be thankful for all that we've been blessed with.

I think, I will give thanks for another year. It has been an imperfect year, where some things were bad, and some things were good, and I grew a year older, and I have my health, and my family, and my friends, and those things are worth giving thanks for.

And a hearty thank you to my reader(s) for listening to me ramble.

Have a wonderful Turkey Day.

The Snow Flies

Snow Flies?

Are they, perhaps, slightly larger, or maybe, smaller, than house flies, with an overall white look about them that makes them seem somewhat snowy? Are they like horse flies, large, and stinging, or more like gnats, just small, buzzing, and annoying?

As far as I know there are no snow flies. The first time I heard the term, a few years ago, we were at an Amish open-air farmer's market, and had just bought a jar of peanut butter with marshmallow cream that the Amish Farmer's wife had made, and we asked him if he was there, year round. He said, "I'll be here till the snow flies."

It's one of those PA Dutch sayings, or maybe, just an up-north saying. It means, he'll come every day the market is open, till the point where it starts snowing, then he's going to either stay home, or at least, go someplace warmer to sell his goods.

Well, today, the snow flies. That is to say, for the first time this year, there is snow falling outside. The weathermen say that we won't see any accumulation today, but tonight, an "Alberta Clipper" is coming, and we'll see, perhaps, an inch or so by morning. Not a lot, but the first snow, nonetheless.

Other sayings I've heard here and there, in Pennsylvania? We were at a craft show, at Lykens Glen Park, one brisk autumn day. We had passed the food pavilion, and were headed up the stream to more craft vendors, when a group of ladies passing us, going the other way, were talking - and although there was no intention to eavesdrop, I did hear one say, "We'd better get back to the food before the soup's all."

I said, "What?" My wife, who had worked with more Pennsylvania people than I had, explained patiently that this was their way of saying "all gone..." And, in that context, the sentence made a little more sense.

Here, people say, "We're going to the store to get some soda." Back home, it was usually, "We're going to the store to get some coke. What kind do you want? Pepsi, Mountain Dew?"

All the time here, people "let" things do things. I mean, like this: "Just let that book over there on the table. I'll get to it later." And then they "leave" people to do things, like: "Just leave him do it, he'll get into trouble on his own, and perhaps learn his lesson."

Now, where I came from, we would leave things on the table, and let people do stuff. Not the other way around.

I am not saying anything is wrong - it's just a different slant on the same language. It's interesting to study people and how they are different, in such minor ways. But, the people here do have huge hearts, and are very friendly, and I guess I'll leave them say it however they want to.

My Cube World

I work in an office where there's cubicles. Cubes are not a terrible thing. Really.

There's no music here. I hear Rod across the partition, talking on the phone, Chris across the way, talking on the phone. Occasionally, a mutter from down the way, and other keyboards here and there, rattling away as someone types something (hopefully work related, unlike this). The outer door squeaks a little as someone opens it, then slams as they go on through.

The hum of my laptop as it sits there in front of me, someone's chair creaking just a little as he rocks back and forth, a scrolling mouse-wheel being turned and turned... crackles of paper as someone shuffles their pile around. There goes the MS Windows "sound" as someone starts up their pc. And the sound of ice cubes falling as someone drinks down the last liquid in their plastic to-go cup.

There is music here, but it's the music of the day, the music of the office. The stillness, the silence, is about to drive me bananas. I walked to the breakroom... Coffee is free, but both pots were at the bottom with black, nasty looking contents. So I dumped out the dregs, and started a fresh pot. I walked to the front lobby of the building, and looked through the glass walls into the parking lot - there were a couple of ladies I do not know out there, smoking, or talking, or something, and I didn't want to intrude, so I restlessly returned back to the breakroom, and waited for the pot to finish brewing.

When my cup was finally filled, I walked back down the hall, and into the office. I was thinking, it's two days until Thanksgiving, and what is there to show it? Decorations? Well, Anita's cubicle still has that one sad little strand of jackolantern lights, hanging there dismally. Otherwise, there's nothing to indicate that it's fall, or that Christmas is only a month away. The office hum is still there, but no jingle bells, nothing to make me merry.

I am just not feeling it. I have this overwhelming feeling of needing to be out there. Anywhere. I look at the cup from Wendys. It says, collect 32 coupons, and you can get a Free one-way ticket to anywhere AirTran flies (or collect 64 for a round trip). I'm ready to go... Ready for a change. My itchy feet are wanting to roam.

And yet, I am stuck here. Murmurs from the other cubes battling the soft hum of my laptop. Someone daring to break the monotony with a whistle, but the tune wasn't very long (maybe 3 seconds). Now the snap-snap of fingernail clippers. And, life goes on.

Part of the Problem

I was walking along, and saw a piece of electrical tape on the floor, and kinda scuffed it with my foot, and kept walking.

My "little voice" said to me, "You know, if you don't pick it up, then you're part of the problem." So, I turned around and picked it up. I went down the hallway, through the door, and started up the aisle, when part of someone's ripped up receipt caught my eye. I didn't let myself think twice, I just reached down and picked it up.

I had passed it a couple of times already this morning, as had uncounted others. But there is within me somewhere, this occasional "good guy" that says, "If you see a problem, and you ignore it, then you are the problem."

A lot of times, I ignore him, but today, for some reason, I felt like listening. Too bad everything else in life isn't so easy to fix. I now have a nice, neat looking office area, thanks to two bits of trash in my trash can. Today, for once, I wasn't a part of that problem.

I don't know what that proves or disproves, it's just my good deed(s) for the year, I guess.

Santa, did you notice?

Thanksgiving Revisited

This is a repost of my 2nd post. I figured, being that it's less than a week from Thanksgiving, that this was worth re-reading - at least, for myself.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Although Thanksgiving is past, and even Christmas, and now, the first day of the New Year is already upon us, and gone. I have been thinking about Thanksgiving, and what it means. I am just now getting around to writing my thoughts down.

Going back to my childhood, from my earliest years, the two times of year that we always looked forward to was Thanksgiving and the Family Reunion. Yes, Christmas was good. And Easter. But, Thanksgiving and Reunion time were the times that, year after year, did not change.

In August, we always went to the family reunion (or it came to us). We would have our extended families, from Texas sometimes, always eastern Arkansas and Mississippi. Earliest memories include family reunions at Granny Rosie’s – baked sweet potatoes and fried pies. But, we could always count on one thing that was better than the food. Most years, our cousins Greg and Joel would show up – and we always loved to play with them. Even Tina – although she was a girl. I can still remember hanging out of the top of the shed (there was a kind of hole under the peak) and shooting at the Japs outside. Or making tunnels in the haystacks in the barn. Or, just exploring.

As much fun as all the kids had with each other, though, I think what I liked best was having Uncle Wilbur and Aunt Roxie around. Greg and Joel called them Grandma and Grampa. But, we always called them Aunt and Uncle…. But, on Dad’s side of the family, they WERE our grandparents. Uncle Wilbur was older than Dad – although Dad was no spring chick himself. I used to love visits by my Granny and Pop, but I loved Wilbur and Roxie no less. When I got old enough, I used to love harassing Roxie with my camera. But, even before that, she was my Grandma, even if she really wasn’t.

Which is what made Thanksgiving the ‘other’ special time. The two facts of life was that the Mississip’ Gang would come in August, and we’d go there for Thanksgiving. I can remember many evenings of play around the old homesite in Mississippi. I remember chickens clucking around in the back near the barn. Remember Ernie in his horse days, riding and roping. Running down the road to Greg’s or Joel’s, or just playing in the front yard, near the big old oak tree, chasing lightning bugs. Some Thanksgivings were just like summertime – we played outside like midsummer. Some were cold – I can remember the house being closed up and curtained off to keep the drafts out.

I can remember, either at our house or theirs, but mainly at theirs, Dad and Wilbur – sometimes another uncle or two, setting on the front porch, rolling a Prince Albert, telling stories. I can’t say that I can remember any details (I sure wish I could! If someone remembers tales told by the old folks in your families – please write them down – we need to remember, for our kids and grandkids). I can remember that Wilbur and Roxie had an ice machine – that was cool. I’d get a glass of ice and go sit out on the porch while Uncle Wilbur was out there, and crunch ice. He’d act like it really bothered him – I don’t really know if it did, but he’d tell me to quit that crunching, and I’d do it all the more. And, the only liver and onions that I remember really liking were Aunt Roxie’s.

I remember going to see Pat and Stacy – and how Stacy would drive to Tupelo to save a nickel on butter. And going to see Sue and Jerry – I remember the big semi-truck, and seeing the kids, even though they were older than us, was always fun. And Jimmy and his kids. They used to play with my older siblings a lot. Of course, there was (and still is) some family there! Tony always had something going…. Debbie who, like Pat, was another ‘Mom’, and Ernie, who thought that the canned meat in the fridge was awfully good till his Mom asked him the next day where the Alpo was! And last, but not at all the least, I remember the little old Chihuahua, Mousy, who fiercely guarded the biscuit, even if he couldn’t eat it. Used to nip at us whenever we even got near that biscuit.

Thanksgiving, Christmas, and now New Year’s eve is past. But, I am thankful for all the things I have. I have two wonderful children and a wonderful wife. I have lots of other family members, who I do not have the chance to see all the time, but whom I love no less. And, strange as it may seem, I am very thankful for some things that I no longer can see or touch. I really miss my Mississippi Grandma and Grandpa. But, I am very thankful that I have the wonderful memories of my childhood, and that my parents took the time to teach us that family is so very important. Although much has changed – I am now in my thirties, not 7, Wilbur and Roxie, Dad, Sue, Jimmy, and Pat, even Greg, all gone – I still remember – and I still love them all.

I told my wife the other day, that I am not a ‘resolution’ person. But, I think I’ll make an exception. The resolution, if you want to call it that, is to make an attempt to go back and remember my family, those still with us and those now in heaven. And reach out to those people that I remember, even if it’s just to say ‘Hello’ and ‘I miss you’, maybe share a memory or two. I have been away from home now for a long time. I have missed a few family reunions, when it just wasn’t possible to be there due to work or life events. I am not the only one. Our family reunions have gotten smaller over time, although some recently were pretty big, considering. As the family grows, it inevitably grows apart. Dad’s generation is all gone. I can barely remember some of his brothers, and some not at all. But, now their kids are all grown, some with Grandkids of their own. The family reunion is a place where those kids go and think, who the heck are those people?

So, maybe the next part of the resolution, would be to work on that family tree that I started a couple of years ago, and create a ‘Where do you fit in?’ document. I could start at my grandfather’s level, since that’s where I remember people from. He passed on before I was born, but several of his children will be forever etched into my memories.

And, last, but most important. Whether we go to or miss a family reunion is not the point. What we should all attempt to do is to teach our children the importance of understanding who we are and who our family is. In this day and age, we may not be able to see our Grandparents or cousins more than once or twice a year (I know. I live 1200 miles away). But, even so, our children should know their family, even if it is only twice a year. A family reunion or Thanksgiving is a good goal to shoot for. For me personally, as described above, the family reunion and Thanksgiving (which was, essentially, another reunion) were the two times every year, that all us kids were together, and when we were always near our Grandparents and other’s who loved us. Our kids should have some of that, too! They may treasure those memories in later years.

The Spatula

Now, I am not the most sour and dour person in the world, and sometimes I chuckle now and then, but I am usually a fairly serious person (excepting, of course, the times when I am not).

A couple of years ago, my son started reading the series, "A Series of Unfortunate Events". It is a tale of tragedy and woe, about the misadventures of three orphans whose parents die in the very beginning of the first book, when their home burns down. And it goes downhill from there. It will ultimately have 13 volumes, and now even a movie has been made loosely (very loosely) based on the first few books.

A lot of the things in these stories are almost as if they've been picked up from an alternate dimension - one in which our realities are waived a little bit, and the unbelievable becomes believable. The absurd becomes ordinary. If nothing else, it forces you to think "outside the box". The movie, although it does not strictly follow the storyline of the books, does a very fine job of capturing the essence of the otherworldness that is represented throughout.

In Book the Twelfth, The Penultimate Peril, I found myself laughing out loud at a couple of the things said. First time I've done that in a while.

Specifically, in this book, the oldest Baudelaire orphan, Violet, in disguise as a hotel concierge, gets called up to the roof of the hotel, where the sunbathing salon is located. I will quote a passage that won't give away the storyline:

"Ten sunbathers, their bare skin coated in thick, sticky, lotion, lay without moving on shiny mats arranged around a heated swimming pool, which was so warm that clouds of steam were floating up from the surface. In a corner was an attendant, his eyes covered in green sunglasses and his body covered in a long, baggy robe. He was holding two enormous spatulas, such as might be used to flip pancakes, and from time to time he would reach out with a spatula and flip over one of the sunbathers, so that their bellies and backs would be the same shade of brown."

Maybe it's just me, but ... that's funny. In a silly-stupid sort of way.

Middle Earth Quiz Results

Entish


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Reflections

Reflections of a day gone by.................

My Weekend Project

My weekend project this weekend was to take the white entryway into the basement and create shelf space. I found a couple of old-fashioned posters that have been around for a while, put some old boards together to use as a backdrop (a frame of sorts) and then took some lumber and built shelves to display my "antique cars". My daughter's artwork adorns the wall to the right, and the shelf in the middle has her pom-pom's and trolley and bear in a boat (for now).

Williamstown PA

This is the small town of Williamstown PA. I was driving up the highway outside of the town Saturday and pulled off to snap this shot. I wish I had done it a week before when the colors were still prettier!

More PA autumn shots

It's getting a little bit late in the "color" season, but there's been some beautiful weather of late. Getting into the 30s and 40s at night and 60s and 70s in the daytime. These pictures were taken over the last week within about 5 miles of our home.

Finally Friday

So, you say it's Thursday, huh?

My work week has been a little strange though. It all began October 24. That is, Monday. I worked my "40 hour week" and then went on call, Friday, October 28. That evening, at work, we had a system "crash" (computer system, that is) and although I didn't have to come in, I spent several hours online and on the phone with various people in determining cause and so on.

Then, Saturday, of course the phone was ringing - following up to the original problem, new problems, etc. Saturday night, I napped for a little while, then headed into work at about one a.m. for some changes and things that were happening. I got back home at six a.m. Sunday morning - that is to say, seven hours after midnight (fall-back, you know), and napped for a while again, before getting up and doing stuff around the house.

So, I got up Monday and went to work without a real weekend, and did my next four days, more or less normal. Friday, I took off during the day, but headed to Philadelphia for a work-trip Friday night. I left Harrisburg around 10 and got to the motel about midnight. To sleep by one and up and at em by 6a.m.

I worked all day, took a break for dinner, and worked again till 11:30 or so, then back to the motel by midnight, asleep by one, and started over again Sunday. I left there around noontime or a little after on Sunday, and back home again.

Monday, i got up and headed to work, and it's been a "normal" week since then. But, now it's November 10, and I haven't really had a "weekend" since before October 24. Tomorrow is Veteran's Day, so this is my "Friday". And this weekend, is a 3-day weekend. Hopefully, not too many on-call things happening (considering I am not on-call).

I am ready for a break, believe it or not......... I am tired enough to sit here and ramble about this stuff and no doubt you're tired, too, and snoring by now, from sheer boredom. But, I guess, it's the only thing going on right now, so it's what I'll report on.

So, have a nice weekend all!
Me

My Hometown

Sweet Tarts

Well... Halloween was done a week ago.

And yesterday, driving back from a trip to the Philadelphia area, I happened onto a station that was playing nothing but Christmas tunes until sometime in January. I'll say, for me, it was nice to hear "Frosty the Snowman", and "All I Want for Christmas is You". Heck, I sing "I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas" and "Jingle Bells" and "Deck the Halls..." all year long. Or, at least hum. Or, whistle. Unless I am at home, because it is frowned upon there.

But, back to halloween. Remember going trick-or-treating, and coming home with a sack of candy. We didn't do a lot of candy, most of the year, but trick-or-treating was pretty cool. Total strangers would give us candy just for coming to the door. Sure wish I could get other stuff that way.

There's a fellow here at work who fills a candy jar (actually a largish fish bowl) every day. I just grabbed a pack of sweet tarts. Remember opening them up, and hoping to get a green one, or whatever your favorite color was? I don't know if they all taste different, or if it's just in your head. In my case, I got two kinda off-white colored ones, and a blue one. They were tarty, but sweet. Wonder why they call them sweet tarts, anyway?

The other candy that I remember... I stumbled across some in someone's candy jar a couple of months ago. They are in a clear plastic wrapper, with dark lines striped across it. A peanut butter center, but a hard crunchy outer part. I forget what they are called... peanut butter logs maybe?

Back to sweet tarts, since that's the title of this bit of writing. Sweet Tarts. Well... I had some things I wanted to say about sweet tarts, but, well, they're just sweet tarts when it comes down to it. I could say life is like a pack of sweet tarts, but that line's already been taken.

Sometimes, it is though. I think it's more like sweet tarts than chocolate. Chocolate is messy and stuff when it gets hot. Sweet tarts are all right, but... even though they can be sweet, they're also tarty. I think life's like that. Life's not like a box of melted chocolates. Life's kinda hard and crunchy sometimes, not soft, like chocolates. So, hard and crunchy, both sweet and tarty, that's life.

Yep, I think that was more or less what I wanted to say. Have a nice day.

Letter from h2g2

I wrote some time ago on the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy Earth Edition (an online encyclopedia of sorts), and how I had submitted an article for "peer review" in the hopes that it would be picked up... it was, finally, (meaning, I am officially a "published" writer) and here's the email I recieved from them:


Dear James "Geekahilbility" Arkansawyer,

We're delighted to inform you that the h2g2 Guide Entry
that you sent to the Editors has indeed been Approved.
Your Entry has been used as the basis for an entry entitled
"Binary Digits".

This Approved Guide Entry may be viewed at the following URL:
http://www.bbc.co.uk/dna/h2g2/A5771973

Thanks ever so much for helping to grow the Guide, and we
do hope that you continue to write and submit Entries of
this calibre.

Best wishes,

The h2g2 Team
The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Earth Edition

Autumn in Dauphin

Falling

Another from my file folder... written a couple of years ago:

Today as I was driving into work…

I looked around…
The leaves are beginning to change colors…
The wind and the rain from last night
Forced many of the leaves to abandon their grips on the trees.

Now, for the first time…
Fall is real.. fall is here…

Driving down the country roads…
Colors beginning to abound…
Blankets of leaves everywhere….

Wind blowing leaves here and there….
The feeling of magic
Begins to well up inside…
My pulse quickens…

It’s a great day to be alive…
A little chill in the morning air…
Afternoons a little warmer…

Summer is not quite gone…
But it is fading fast…
Winter’s not upon us yet…

We’re in that time of year
Where all is calm…
All is quiet…

The leaves falling…
Wind blowing them past me…
Life is good…

Especially with you here…

Marigold

I just stumbled across this. I wrote it a few years ago. I suppose, it's not the best poetry in the world. Not even close to being my best writing. And the theme has been exploited by various artists in "The Rose" and other songs and poems. But, at the time, I guess it meant something to me, or I wouldn't have written it.

The Flower

A marigold is a lot like love;
The springtime sun warms the ground above,
And the seed begins to grow like crazy,
Never once becoming lazy.
With just a little rain,
It can overcome any pain.

As the summer comes and goes,
The beauty grows and grows.
Requiring only a little care,
Other flowers better beware;
Its beauty still grows stronger
As the nights grow longer and longer.

When the autumn nights get cold,
The blossoms still shine like gold.
Other flowers may give up hope,
But this one will not mope.
It lingers on and on,
Brightening almost any lawn.

But then one day the winter’s chill
Brings it down against its will.
The frost finally brings the end
And love is gone just like the wind.
Only the little seed remains,
To begin anew with springtime rains.

It was all a bad dream

A couple of weeks ago, my daughter, age 7, came to me with her notebook. She had written down a dream that she had... She said she did not want to forget it. I copied it to my computer, and saved it for another day. Today, is another day.


There was this one man who was very bad and he was breaking glass cups on my Dad's head but I made a pillow shield but my legs were sticking out the other end so he grabbed me by the legs and started to break glass cups on my head.


Dad's note: I left this word-for-word as she wrote it (except that I corrected a couple of minor spelling errors). I asked for a little explanation on a couple of points. She said the "pillow shield" was like a fort made out of pillows, but it wasn't quite long enough to shield her, too.

Celebration

I went to a celebration today.

It was not a happy celebration - at least, not for me.

It was a "home going celebration" for a friend. Almost a week ago, this friend, this man, left his shell of a body behind, and headed up to be with his Creator.

I didn't know Al as well as I should have known him. I worked with him, from time to time, including a trip up to Warminster, Pennsylvania during a disaster recovery test for our employer. Normally, though, I worked in a different building, a different shift. I have several excuses for not knowing Al as well as I should have.

I do know this, though. Al was a good human being. He was one of those rare people who always had time for a handshake and a big, huge smile. When I had the opportunity to work beside him, he was up and out, doing things, and couldn't stand to sit idle. He "took care" of things.

All throughout the words that were spoken at his celebration, I heard several names used to describe him, "a big man", "Big Al", "Big Dad". He was a big man.

As I sat there, and listened to the stories, viewed the photographs, most of all... listened to the music. I began to wish that I had gotten to know Al even better than I did. He always took the time to welcome me, to make me feel special, any time I visited his work area. I heard other folks from work here, say the very same thing. Of all the people who worked in that building - he was the one who would get up and go out of his way to give you a big smile, a warm welcome, no matter what he may have been working on, no matter what may have been on his mind, he took the time. He was... a BIG man.

I left the celebration today. A mix of thoughts and feelings. The music which he loved so much... it had helped soothe the sense of loss that we all felt. The music, was not of a sorrowful nature. It was quick. It was happy music. Upbeat music. Music with a personality like Al’s, that brought you a smile despite the situation. It was the first service I had ever attended, of any type, at a predominately black church, and it was very nice. I felt at home.

I am glad Al got to go Home. He was one of only a handful of people I have ever known, who truly typified, in my mind, "a good human being". All of us have faults, even Al. I am sure of it, even though I didn't know him well enough to see his. But he was one of those rare individuals who took the time to do good... to fix wrongs... to prevent wrongs from happening by reaching out and crossing the bridges which separate the good from the bad, and brought the good across those bridges and forced the bad away. He was someone who radiated kindness. If indeed there is a heaven, people like Al, and my grandfather, and Grandpap Collins, will be there. And, I know they're pulling for me, too.

I wish I was more like them. Maybe, someday, I will be.

Magic Time Machine

Yesterday, a little part of me died.

Another piece was born.

The who-I-am of today, is not the same who-I-am which existed yesterday. That person is now who-I-was. I have changed. That person of yesterday is gone now.

Every day, we live, we breathe, we experience.

Those experiences, even the littlest things - but especially the big ones - change us in some small way. They meld together to shape a new person out of the raw material that was.

Have you ever had a "life-changing" experience? Of course you have, even if you answered "No".

Today, I worked on a problem. I learned something new. I became a new person.

Yesterday, I read a page in a book. That page affected me in some small way. I became a new person.

Have you ever wondered why you did something, an hour ago, a day ago, last week? How could you have ever done something so stupid, or brilliant? Yet, at the time, it seemed like a perfectly natural thing to do. The who-I-am that exists now, that person sees the event, the action, the reasons or excuses, in a different manner than who-I-was did. The who-I-am may wish to go back in time and change the past - to wipe out those thoughts, those actions, those mistakes, whether real or imagined.

But, what's done, is done. The best we can do today, is to look ahead to tomorrow, and try not to forget the lessons learned in yesterday, but at the same time - to quit living in yesterday, and push forward to a better tomorrow.

Who-I-was no longer exists. That person cannot change anything. The past, is past. There is no winding the clock backwards.

However, who-I-am has an enormous power to shape the future. The decisions you make today, the experiences you live today, those things will not only help to form who-I-will-become, but they will also create the world of tomorrow, and the next day, and, indeed, the rest of time. Who-I-am is here, and now, and has the privilege and the power to create a new tomorrow, and hopefully can create a better tomorrow using the lessons learned yesterday and today.

Nameless

If I were just a grain of sand on a far distant beach, would you recognize me?

Or would you walk across the beach, the warm bits of sand burning your toes, and never even realize I was there?

Would you just breathe in the salty spray of the air, enjoying the sound of gulls crying out, and waves rolling into the shore, and then walk on to another place and time?

If I were less than a total stranger, a soul whose existence you never suspected, and then you saw me one day, what would you think?

Would I be some other nameless face in the crowd?

Would you look at me with your eyes, but not see me with your heart, and in the next moment be gone forever?

Or would you look deep into my eyes, inside my heart and soul, and somehow be able to show me some reflection of "me" that exists deep inside... a "me" that I couldn't have seen alone?

Blog This

It seems funny, but I've been blogging now since January. For a while, I did not put anything online because I lacked any motivation. I had a half-finished article on coffee and the effects of it. I didn't much like it, but I wanted to post something, so I cleaned it up a little (and if you poke around here a little, you can find it, named "Coffee, Good or Bad?").

And, it seems as if everyone wants to know about coffee. This one post, has two or three visits per week from people who do a search, somewhere online, about the effects of coffee on your health. It's the most visited post that I've done so far, and there have been people from all around the globe that have seen it, as a result of Google, MSN, Yahoo, and other search engines.

The funny thing is that it's probably one of my least favorite posts here. One of these days, maybe I'll update it with some factual information to actually make it more fact and less opinion.....

Bicycle Safety

One of the most confusing things, as a parent, is teaching our kids about "right" and "wrong". It is easy to say, if it goes against the 10 Commandments, then it is wrong. But, is that enough? No, in this world, we have many rights and wrongs. Like "white lies", where you tell someone something to protect their feelings. Strictly speaking, is it right or wrong to say, "Well, it isn't so bad....", when you really don't like it?

On a more personal level, with children, is winning and losing. It's good to win, and bad to lose. But, at the same time, it seems like some kids win all the time, and some kids lose all the time. Truthfully, no one wins ALL the time, at everything, but, sometimes it seems like they do. So, how do you tell a child who has lost, yet again, that it is all right? That losing can be a good thing? That they did the best they could, and everything is going to be okay... Through their tears, their pain and humiliation, they do not want to hear this. How can anything be "right"?

In Scouts, we had a state police officer come and give a safety lecture and demonstration. He talked about bicycle safety. It's pretty apparent why helmets are a good thing, even common sense. But, how do you explain to a child, that when you're walking up the road, you should walk on the "left" side of the road, instead of the "right" side? But, when you're riding a bicycle, you must obey vehicular laws, and ride on the "right" side, and not the "left" side?

The reasons for this are that when you're riding, you are, in effect, on a moving vehicle, and subject to the laws that apply to moving vehicles. On a bicycle, you should stop at stop signs, use a turn signal or hand signals to indicate which way you are turning, etc. Also, it would be dangerous to top a hill on a busy or even remote street, and meet oncoming traffic while riding your bike. But, when you're walking, you need to be able to see ahead of you, so you can get out of the way, in case someone is coming toward you.

It all goes back to safety first. There are times, while walking, that we will cross to the right side of the road, like on a blind curve or hill, where no one can see what is coming, and people drive too fast, causing dangerous conditions for the walker. In general, however, we follow the law and walk up the left side of the road, and as cars come toward us, we move to the edge of the road, and they tend to veer toward the middle, and all is well.

Going back to "rights and wrongs", to explain bicycle and walking safety to my kids, I tried to make it as clear as possible. "When walking, right is wrong, and left is right. But, when riding, right is right, and left is wrong." I think they get it.

In life, how do we so clearly explain things? Often it is just as hard. Our greatest way of teaching our children is by setting examples. Therefore, they see us doing something, they deem it acceptable, and do the same things. So, if we shout a lot, the kids will tend to shout a lot. If we complain a lot, the kids will tend to complain a lot. If we pray a lot, the kids will tend to pray a lot. If we wear smiles on our faces every day, our children will tend to wear smiles.

But, what happens when it seems like everything is wrong? Like when you're in a race, and you lose? You hold up your head, and say "Congratulations" to the winner, and life goes on. What happens when you're in a situation where there are no winners? When something ends, like when their Grandfather dies, perhaps? How do you tell a child that there is any "right" in this? You say, "Grandpa is in heaven." but is that really very meaningful to a child? He has just lost his best friend.

I suppose we could distract them, by teaching them bicycle safety...

But there is no "right" anywhere that will bring back something that is gone forever. And this is one of the hardest lessons to learn, as a child or an adult. You can pretend that everything is "right" and just continue to go on, pretending, forever. But, to fix the wrongs and make them right, means to truly come to accept that some things just are not "right". Then you must not only accept this awareness that they are not "right", and cannot be, but also become aware that life goes on. There's a future there, that each and every one of us contributes to. And that if things are not, and cannot be "right" the way they are today, then it's our job to build a better tomorrow. For when everything else is "wrong", there are still "right things" inside of us.

Through faith, hope, and love, we can each help to bring about a better tomorrow. No matter how bad today is, there is always hope for tomorrow. If we have faith in ourselves, and in the world around us, even God, then we can work to make a better tomorrow. And through companionship, though love, we can strengthen the faith and hope inside us. And, maybe, despite the "wrong" of today, we can reshape tomorrow, where we'll wake up and find "right" in our world.

Canning Maters

Nope. Ain't doing it. But, I ran into a useful recipe on another blogging page, and, well, this lady sure tells it like it is. She has a few lessons learned along with the actual recipe, and, I think it's worth your time. You might get a chuckle out of it, and learn at the same time. As some would say, it's a hoot and a holler. Check it out:

How To Jar Tomatoes In 2(x-5y)+7-(x+y) Easy Steps

My Morning

So, the first alarm went off this morning. Mom goes and gets the son ready for school. Later on, the second alarm goes off, and I sleepily punch it and drift back to sleep. Somewhere in the subconscious, I must have heard some discussion about the bus not coming, or him missing it, because I started to dream, even as he waited and waited for a bus that would not appear………

In my dream, Mom yells at him, “It’s time for the bus – what are you doing?”, when he comes back inside after being out for a few minutes. He yells back, “I’ll just be a minute…” Meanwhile… I hear the bus pull up, glance into the kitchen, and there he is, taking toast out of the toaster and buttering it. I step out the door to wave down the bus, but the driver is pulling away…

Next thing I know, he is there, standing right next to the steps, actually, in the flower bed between the steps and sidewalk. And, I am upset. I started to yell at him. He knows better than to go back inside this late!!!!

But, when I barked at him, he jumped. Literally, he jumped. My words, or my expression, must have scared the dickens out of him. I did a double-take, for he was now standing on the sidewalk, nekkid, his clothing a pile of rumpled cloth where he had been standing just a moment before. So now, of course, I had to also fuss at him for being nekkid in the yard.

Then I woke up. And the bus had not come. So, I hopped in the shower, and started driving like crazy for town. As I get into town, five minutes to go till start time of classes, the neighbor, driving in front of me, pulls to the edge of the road, and I pull up next to her, and she says, school is on a two hour delay.

So I drove like crazy all the way back home, dumped him off, and headed for work. I got here ten minutes late, but… well, it could have been worse. At least, the boss didn’t bark at me, causing me to jump out of my clothes. Boy, that would have been embarrassing.

Finding Neverland

Editor's note: This article falls into a category that I refer to as a "rambling monstrosity". It was me, sitting up late in the evening, pouring my rambling thoughts into the keyboard, and the result tends to be rather disorganized and incoherent. If you'd rather read something silly, check Big Toe or Apple out. If you want something inspirational, try Kate's Prayer, Winners and Losers or Heroic Sacrifices. Even, useful software to keep little gremlins out of your computers can be found here. Or, feel free to just browse around and see what you can find.


While discussing the upcoming Gratz Fair (like a county fair back home), a friend of mine said, "I really dread going. There's no kid left in me."

Wow... What a statement. It may sound bad at first, but... when I look in the mirror, the same thing is true. The only time that I have any "kid" in me, is when I am playing with kids. Kids are wonderful things.

At Awana tonight, our friend who has a couple of dozen kids (so shoot me if I exaggerate), came in with one of the younger ones. I took him and started playing with him, holding him upside down. Before long, his older sister was dismissed from her group and came out and climbed up on my back, and I carried her out to the parking lot.

When the neighbor kids come over, they invariably pile up on top of me and push me to play with them. When I am feeling down, they force me to play, and I am better. I think... I think I was made to be around kids. Other people are different. Some, completely different.

My own kids, 11 and 7, respectively, take it by spells. Most of the time, they're mad at me for making them do things they don't want to do, and so don't feel like playing. My son, seems to have this problem quite a bit lately. When he does try to play, it's always after he's already gotten me so aggravated that I just snap at him.

My daughter is still usually pretty playful... And she loves her bedtime ritual of hugs and kisses. A lot of times, just around the house... with the family... they want to "play" when there's work to be done, and I'm the bad guy who pushes the work thing. Speaking of which - the chore from two days ago... the terrible burdensome one that I told them to do... filling the bird feeders - still hasn't been done. I need to get on them tomorrow about that.

But, around other adults, there's no "play" left in me anymore. Even around my kids, when the wife's there especially, there's no "play". That's not to say it's her fault, but she is one of the folks who are "different". She worked in a day care for a year or so, finally quitting because "she wasn't cut out for it." The kids drove her nuts.

After her accident last year, when she was back up and about, but not able to go find work yet, she kept the neighbor's kids before and after school... And the extra cash was very nice. But, every day, I'd come home and she'd be so stressed about them wanting to play too loud or too rough, or arguing, or making messes and not wanting to pick them up, or something. So the kids would all come pile on me for a while and leave her alone - but... "she wasn't cut out for it," so when the summer vacation came, and school was about to restart, she told their Mom she was finding another job. And they come only to play now.

Sometimes, that rubs off on me, too. It's hard to be playful when playing gets on people's nerves.

My grandparents had about a gazillion kids. Well, okay, maybe not. How about, seven. In my family, Mom had 3, Dad had 2, plus me and my brother between them. I was the baby. But it seemed that larger families had less money, but bigger hearts. The older kids would watch the younger ones. The younger ones knew they were loved. The older ones learned responsibility. The younger ones learned to defend themselves. Everyone grew.

In today's "downsized" families, there's one or two kids, the older one complains because the younger one gets all the attention. Both babied, because they're the only ones there. I get frustrated with it because I think my son, 11, is old enough to care for his younger sister - but invariably they fight because "she always gets away with things" and "he hit me".

I think, a dozen kids, give or take, would be about right. It wouldn't be a one-on-one battle between the two of them all the time. If nothing else, they'd all be fighting, and would distract each other enough that they wouldn't be up our behinds all day long. But more likely, to have that many, they'd have to be born fairly closely together, so there'd be no five year gap between them. The older ones wouldn't remember being an 'only child' and miss it, because by the time they're old enough to remember, they've always had little brother or little sister around. And the younger ones, they've always had older brothers and sisters who've always had baby brothers and sisters... and they'd look out for each other. And do pranks. And be mean to each other. And help each other out.

There's something to be said for such a lifestyle. I think we've made mistakes in this day and age by not having larger families who stick together. It takes special parents to be able to love that many children. For me, I feel so old and weary so much of the time anymore - and I'm only 34. The only time I feel young anymore is when there's a child who looks into my eyes with love and carefree abandon, who wants to climb up me, or play a game, or just sit and talk.

I don't know where this is going... it's just rambling - a look at how life is not, I guess. My "kid" probably left me along about the age of fourteen to fifteen. My Dad died in November, and my fifteenth birthday was the following February. The end of January, in between, was when the Space Shuttle Challenger exploded. I think, looking back, that I was already pretty sober before that, because of Dad, but I think that the Shuttle's influence just cemented the already sober me.

I had a wonderful childhood, to that point. Even after, life was good in many ways. We always had family around who loved us. My uncle Clarence came to live with us for a few years. School came and went. I had part time jobs here and there, always staying busy. But, did I ever take time to have fun? Well, I took pride in working, I listened to music - a very big part of my life. I read a ton of books. I found escape in many of the things which occupied my time. But, did I have fun? I bought a camera and took a million pictures (probably not much exaggeration). I was on the yearbook staff as a photographer, too. I was on the forestry team in high school, who placed 4th in the whole state of Arkansas, and 7th in a four-state competition held in Mississippi.

But, did I have fun? Did I play? I can't remember. I got out of high school. Not knowing what to do with myself. I was fifth in my class, and received a scholarship to University of Arkansas - but didn't have a car and didn't want to go and bum rides all the time when I didn't even have a clue what to major in - other than, maybe, teaching.

So I went to work, and after working for Wegner Quartz Crystal mines for a year, working in the cleaning section with Rob and xxx, who'd sometimes sneak off to the back and smoke a little something funny (and no, I didn't join in. If I had, I probably wouldn't have inhaled (smile)) while listening to Magic 105 rock-n-roll on the radio, and mowing and general maintenance around there. After getting yelled at once for the owner using his tractor and bushhog where he knew there was a well-cap and hitting it, then telling me I should have had the "foresight" to go and use a weedeater and clean up around the wellcap, and put a pole up there, with a ribbon on it, so he wouldn't have hit it. After all that, I began to decide, maybe the military is not so bad after all.

So, after a year of working, out of high school, I joined the Air Force. And worked. I loved it. I learned a lot of new stuff. I was given responsibilities because I cared to try and work above and beyond. I was "promoted" in my job even when advancement in rank was not possible - meaning that I was given opportunities to do new things, with responsibilities, even before I probably should have been - based on the work I had done.

But did I have fun? I think back, and I think not. The only time I've ever just truly enjoyed myself - let everything go - as a teen or an adult, has been around children. When I was single, and I'd go to my friend Gwen's house, and play with Michael. I'd rock him and sing silly songs and hum silly tunes. It was the coolest thing. And it didn't matter whose kids it were.

When my own came along, sitting there, bonding with them, was wonderful. Jeremy was an only child until he was almost 5. Then came Kate. Now they're both out of the 'innocent' stage - Kate told me the other week, when I told her to be careful with the new laptop because it cost several hundred dollars and if she breaks it, she has to pay, she told me, "Daddy. You can't do that. That's child abuse." She didn't just tell me this. She screamed it. She still has her "innocent" moments but she's quickly outgrowing it. I think, if there were still a baby in the house, I'd still be young. As it is, I turned 78 this year.

And, I suppose, it's not about babies at all. It's about a lot of things. I thought, when I got out of high school, that I'd go to college and come back as a teacher. I always knew that kids were the path for me. But I didn't go to college, and I didn't become a teacher. One thing, then another, put obstacles and changed my destiny. I am okay with that.

But. Over the past few years, as the kids have grown, so has my age. What does this mean? Since I was fourteen, I have lived in a world where the only magic came from children. I have tasted magic elsewhere, but it was only in passing. Nothing that would come to stay. Other people, children, other adults, they are not the source of magic at all. The magic is buried within you all the while. Children may bring it out for me, but for others, other things bring out the magic in their lives.

The question is, how do you find it? Is it even possible? I say yes. I say this with a kind of heavy heart. I slow down now, as I think of my words.

My kids, my neighbor's kids, my friend's kids, they all bring out the magic in me. They make me lighten my heart, forget my burdens for a little while, and then the magic comes forth.

Writing. Writing has always been a passion of mine. For many years it was something that lay forgotten in a corner, and when my friend Jamie suggested I start to blog, he probably had no idea of how much I really needed to do it. However, although I started off blogging with a few inspired articles, I lost my "magic" for a little while. I posted a few things just to keep it alive, but which were not really very inspired. Then, toward the end of last month, I started to toy with the idea of doing something different. I didn't know what I was going to do or where it was going to lead. I registered a second blogspot site, and started playing with the layout and format. And, one thing led to another, and now I've got a site, which has had a "write-up" already from another blogger, over in Australia, of all places, who stumbled across my site.

There's supposed to be other spots of "magic" in our lives. I have found, over time, that things can become tarnished with time. Things we believed once to be true, we find, are not quite so true. Mostly, since the age of fourteen, there's been a lot of shades of gray in my life. There've been moments of color, but when there's no "kid" left in you, no magic, what do you do? My daughter asked me, over a year ago, now "Daddy, why don't you smile anymore?" And for a while, and even now, I try, for her sake. But often, I just don't feel like it. I am too old for it. That's not to say that I have a bad life, it's just, the magic has been gone for some time.

This blogsite has improved my general outlook on life. And, a few weeks ago, I started a new one, Armadillo Creek. Look under the "links" menu to the right for the URL. It has been a blast and has brought back a lot of pleasant memories from long before the age of fourteen.

Additionally, I sent a link to "Thanksgiving" to a cousin from Mississippi whose son used to be my playmate when we'd go there at Thansgiving time and they'd come to Arkansas in the summertime for the reunion. And she sent the link on to some other cousins. Who emailed me, and we've been "chatting" off and on for a few weeks now. That's been great.

But mostly, Armadillo Creek has been the great escape. I suppose, since I've made several references to it, I should explain myself. I will tell the story here, once, but nowhere else. I wanted this thing to remain anonymous, at least, to start with, so I could do what I needed to do, without distractions. I created a town called "Armadillo Creek", based on my home town, as the child of yesteryear who had my name, would have seen and remembered it. The child is there, too, but his name, unlike mine, is Johnny Miller. There are stories and other stuff there, that are based on my memories of what life was like back in the simpler days in Armadillo Creek. When I get down and blue, and the magic is gone, I can go back to a chapter in my past, and start writing and it's back again. Almost all the characters and events in Armadillo Creek are based on people in my own life, but the names are changed, and the situations simplified somewhat.

The town created here does not and maybe never did exist, except in a young boy's innocent perceptions. There are happy memories, and very sad ones, that I have put on here. It is a work in progress. I will add things as I feel like adding them, and I am continually sticking a new entry into the idea list for some future writing. And, maybe, I'll run out of ideas one of these days, and when I do, well, maybe then I'll start real writing, and invent things. Or, maybe, I'll just quit writing about Armadillo Creek, close that book, and start a new one.

I don't know where my future lies. This has been the subject of much deep thought of late. But I do know where it started, in a simpler place, in a simpler time, in a town that some know, as Armadillo Creek. And, knowing where your roots lie is a good starting point for the future. Today is the first day of the rest of your life.

Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy

A couple of months ago I submitted an article to the Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy (h2g2.com) for consideration to be added as an "edited guide entry", which is an official entry into their online encyclopedia.

It went through "peer review" where other h2g2 members gave me feedback and I corrected minor errors and otherwise cleaned it up, and today they emailed me saying that it is in "recommended" status - meaning, that now, barring editorial problems, it should soon become an official part of the Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy. I don't guess I'll get anything for it, other than having something published, sorta. But that's okay, it's still kinda cool.

If you're interested, here's the link:
Binary Digits

Big Toe

I am sitting here, watching a movie, playing card games on my laptop, and it dawns on me that my big toe is sticking out of my left sock. That is to say, I have a hole in the end of my sock big enough for my whole toe to stick out. Maybe I’ll take a picture of it one of these days. Or wait, a thought just occurred to me. Maybe I should just throw away the sock – or even mend it. Hmmmm. Wonder why I didn’t think of that before?


- This was an attempt, feeble, probably, at humor. The fact is, though, my toe is sticking out of my sock, and yes, I'll probably toss the sock...

Medicinal Miracles

I have long had a dislike of doctors and medicine, in general, although I do tend to actually like most of the people who wear doctor's suits, and I feel better when I've taken the medicines they prescribe.

I guess what I mean is that I see doctors as a necessary evil. They do what they can do to alleviate our aches and pains, and we feel better, pay our increasingly higher bills, and hopefully, life goes on. But......

Quite a number of years ago, as a young man in the Air Force, I had a mandatory visit with a dentist. Maybe, one of the first in my life. The dentist said that since I was in my early twenties, and my wisdom teeth were finally "coming in", that they should be removed. So, I underwent surgery to have them removed, and suffered no long-term ill effects. Good? Good. However, they gave me laughing gas, and I don't much recall the effects of that, except that when we got home, the base construction guys were digging up the yard across the street, and I blustered that they'd better not come dig up my yard! The "medicine" changed me, beyond the scope of what it was intended for - if only for a few hours.

Other than that occasion, and a visit to the emergency room when I was seventeen to have a bit of my thumb sewn back on after hitting it with a chopping maul trying to steady a stubborn piece of wood that kept wanting to fall over as I whacked at it, I had never been to the doctor, except for checkups, until I was in my 30s. The thumb thing was pretty neat, I've got to say. They let me watch as they sewed the tip of my thumb back on - it had been dangling there, by a piece of skin. It was only the tip, maybe a chip of bone missing, and now only a very small scar remains of the incident.

When I was thirty two, and work and life in general were really stressing me out, I started having funny feelings in my chest. My Dad died at 55, when I was 14, and the last thing I want to do for my kids is to leave them so early, or earlier. But, at the same time, I didn't do a lot about it, other than force myself to slow down, and I left my job a few days early for summer vacation - which provided a long-overdue break.

That fall, the job got slightly better, although I was on the go a lot. One Sunday we had a scout outing where we climbed up and down 7.5 miles of the Appalachian Trail, and that night, I drove to Philly, a couple of hours away, for a disaster recovery test from work, and stayed there until Wednesday. On Saturday, my grandparents flew in, we had a big birthday party for my son with tons of his friends, and my grandfather, who had loved the drive through the autumn colors a few hours before, started having some severe pains, and passed out. The ambulance came, and took him to the hospital, and we followed, and ... suffice it to say, a few hours later, despite all our and the doctor's best intentions, he was gone from this Earth and returned to his Creator.

Needless to say, Saturday night was a sleepless one, and Sunday was full of exhausting phone calls and heartaches, and, after a few hours of sleep, on Monday, I dropped my wife and Grandmother off at the airport, and the kids and I started driving for 'home', twelve hundred miles away. That night we stopped in middle Tennessee at a 29.95, squishy-floored motel room, because I figured if I kept on going, he'd not be the only one in heaven.

Early Tuesday, we were at Mom's... and I got an almost normal night of rest, but Wednesday was Halloween, and that morning, we got up, went and had a big breakfast at the Mount Ida Cafe, and went back home. I stayed over at Granny's house for a few hours, and when she came in, she offered me a piece of cake. By this point, it was late afternoon, and although not really hungry, I accepted.

Of course, the kids had to do Halloween, but instead of the traditional trick-or-treating that could have been done around town, we decided to load up and drive into Hot Springs, 40 miles or so away. On the way there, I found myself actually getting a little dizzy. The funny chest feelings were there, too, and it scared me. I told my wife, let's stop at Wal Mart, and I am going to go in and check my blood pressure. It was high, but.... as the doctor later told me, not dangerously high, just .. pretty darn high.

The next day, I went to see the doctor there in town, and he advise me to start watching my diet a little more closely, and lose a few pounds, and I'd probably be all right. The diet because chances are the dizziness I had felt, even the chest pains, were probably caused by blood sugar issues, more than anything else, and when your blood sugar gets out of whack, it causes your blood pressure to do so as well. He said, don't skip breakfast, or lunch, and if you do find yourself needing something to eat, find something high in protein, like peanuts.

And, when I got back to my other 'home' and went to see my doctor here, he pretty much said the same things, but considering my family hereditary conditions, maybe I should also start taking something like Toprol XL, a beta blocker, just to 'regulate' my blood pressure. It's a low dosage, and can be taken once a day, and I was scared enough to accept it.

Since that point, I've lost more than ten pounds. At times, it's been closer to twenty, although I tend to bounce around a bit. But other than the blood pressure thing, everything was perfectly normal - never had cholesterol problems or anything else that would cause grief.

So the other day, a couple of years later, I go to the doctor for a checkup. Good news is, my blood pressure is at it's lowest level in recent memory (120/70). My new doc says, well, you've been here a while, and never had a blood test, let's go ahead and do it. Today, I got my results back and all is normal, except, triglycerides. Hand-written on the results is the comment to cut back on carbohydrates and alcohol.

Now, in the last few years, I have been guilty of drinking a grand total of two beers and a glass of wine. So the latter is probably not a problem, and I have no doubt the former is. But I digress. Being the online information type, I headed on over to WebMD to edumacate myself on triglycerides. Here's some highlights:

They list normal (150 or less - where I've always been)
Borderline-high (150 to 199)
High (200-499 - I am now in the upper end of this range).
Very High (500+)

So, what causes "High"?

"There are several causes of high triglycerides, including obesity, poorly controlled diabetes, hypothyroidism, kidney disease, estrogen replacement therapy, and excess consumption of calories, carbohydrates, saturated fats, and alcohol. Some medications may cause elevated triglyceride levels, including birth control pills, diuretics, beta-blockers, steroids, and some of the newer antipsychotic medications."

I am not obese, even though I am admittedly above where I should be. I do not have diabetes, hypothyroidism, kidney disease, heaven knows I don't need estrogen replacement (I hope), and I do try to be somewhat healthy in my eating habits. The medications though, my birth control pills haven't bothered me yet (that's a joke). I don't do diuretics, steroids, and my antipsychotic medication is limited to expressing myself via words. But, beta-blockers. Bingo.

So, here I is... the older I get, the more examples of this I see. We are given a medicine to cure a problem, and it helps, then we have another problem, if not caused by the medicine, then at least aided and abetted by it. Examples? Kids whose parents over-react, sending them to the doctor for a sniffle, get antibiotics, and a few weeks later, something else comes up, and more antibiotics, and then something serious, and their bodies have built up a resistance to the antibiotics and then they're really sick. It happens. And my wife, for years suffering from a disease which causes her to have one type of problem, finally given a regular dose of "prednisone" to help battle it, and it makes life more bearable. But, by the way, it can cause some side effects, like causing your body to not absorb calcium that well. And, she doesn't drink milk too often, preferring Coke instead. So between the medicine and bad habits, she develops some serious bone issues... leading to fractures and surgery.

Medicine is bad stuff. And, when a month or two ago, everyone said, maybe you ought to go get your arm checked out... I was in pain - serious pain, more than I've probably ever been in, when I pulled a muscle in my shoulder and it led to a few weeks worth of aching all down my arm. Don't know if I tore a muscle, or tendon, or got tendonitis, or what, but the most I took was motrin and aspirin. Mostly, though, I stretched the muscles, every time I got the chance, and worked out the pain. And it's fine now.

Heck, if I'd gone to the doc, likely he'd have given me a miracle drug or surgery and I'd have felt great, till a hidden side effect came along, and I started having fingers fall off into my soup.

Well. To quote the great Gump, "That's all I got to say about that."