Vacation

I'll be away for a few days. I'm taking a trip to Mio, alone, to spend some time kicking around some ideas, and trying to sort some stuff out. I'll also be trying to get that pile of Simplicity going again. I have a book this time, and I'm armed with a few more tools than last time. Woo hoo!! Wish me luck. Three nights alone on 40 secluded acres with no running water, and no real heat. Then two nights with Steve and Angie and their son, Justice. I think I need this...


Carry on

Lesson Teaching

Early one weekend, I told Savanna to go upstairs and get her clothes to get ready for her shower, so we could head off to where we needed to go. A little too much time had passed, so I opened the door and asked her what she was doing. She came to the head of the stairs and said, "well, I'm not watching T.V."...... Hm, alright, up the stairs I went, stifling a smile. When I rounded the corner, some colorful cartoon was gracing the screen of her television. I reached down and swatted her butt, and told her that she had just lost her t.v. I then made her gather her clothes and go take her shower. She trudged off down the stairs, obviously upset that she had gotten a very rare spanking, but not crying. When she finished her shower, she went upstairs to get dressed. No more than a half a minute later, I heard her crying. I went up to have a little chat with her. I explained to her that she had lost her television because she had turned it on to watch it instead of getting in the shower like she was supposed to. Then I explained that she had gotten her spanking for lying to me. We talked for a few minutes, until I was satisfied that she understood that she would have been punished for making a mistake either way, but lying to me earned her extra punishment. I then told her that I always love her, no matter what happens, and gave her a hug. I then told her she could earn her t.v. back by staying out of trouble for the rest of the weekend, that it would be back in her room for her next visit. Her feeble attempt at a cover story made me grin, and it hurt my heart to hear her cry, but I know that if I let that keep me from teaching her a moral, it could harm her for life. All in all, she seems to be learning and growing up well. I hope it continues.

Periods of Happiness

Falling asleep to Alan Almond behind Mamaw's couch, in front of her piano. As a child, I would go visit her and Papaw, and sleep on an impromptu mattress at night, listening to easy listening music and the tick-tock of her grandfather clock.

Each Christmas at Mamaw's house, I would recieve a several paper towel tubes full of matchbox cars. The real ones, little models of real cars. I looked forward to those days. She knew what I liked.

Driving Dad's snapper tractor to push snow off the driveway, though those times seem tainted, somehow....

I built a deck on the back of my Mom's house, and had a couple friends there helping. At one point I turned around to see why my circular saw wouldn't work and saw Chris standing there with the cord in his hands, kinked like you would kink a hose. He had unplugged it, of course. I laughed my ass off.

I lived at a real pile of sh*t trailer in a dumpy park in Fenton. Neighbors were noisy, space was at a premium, but it was on a lake, and I lived with the girl I loved more than anything. So many of the days in that place were happy ones.

Looking into the most wonderful brown eyes I have ever known, forehead to forehead, head over heals in love at 19,20,21. I'm fortunate enough to experience that again, albeit on a very irregular and rare occasion.

Riding a minibike powered by a little 4 stroke engine that Jim had modified to run on almost anything that you could light with a match, and some things you couldn't. That little bastard didn't have brakes, and I wore out a brand new pair of Converse shoes in about a week.

Anymore, only the time I spend in the woods, completely alone, is anything close to happy. Sometimes I believe my girlfriend does love me, and has noble intentions, and other times I believe she is playing me like a worn out deck of cards. I feel the latter tonight.

So Tired

Waiting, being at someone's beck and call, day in and day out, with little to no reward, gets damned old after a while.


That's all for now

Time to go

It's late. I've watched Shrek with my daughter, made over a gallon of gumbo, canned it for deer camp, cooked dinner, cleaned the kitchen, watched the Red Wings win in a shootout, posted ten blogs, and listened to some very suspicious explosions frighteningly close to my house. I'm tired. I'll be sleeping with my .38 AND my .45 tonight.

Polish Joke

Here's one for ya. I used to work for a polish man. He had some odd quirks. Smart man, but he did some things that would make you go "what the..." For example:

I arrived for work one morning, and went about the normal morning routine. As I started to load the van with wood, I noticed a flat tire on the left rear of the van. One of my partners showed up at that point still drunk from the night before. The boss did not have a jack to raise the van. Boss's solution? Stack a couple short bundles of wood on the crushed concrete driveway, place a 4x6 over the stack and under the axle. Work partner is to stand on the end of the 4x6 and raise the van. I'm having serious doubts now about mental stability... Miraculously, it works. We remove the flat and attempt to put the full size spare on in it's place. Spare does not fit. It seems that the extremely mad and drunk work partner only has enough leverage to lift the axle high enough to remove a flat, not to install an inflated tire. Boss's solution to this new problem? Dig a hole in the crushed concrete to make room for the spare. Okey dokey. We dig a hole, install the tire, and let the red and slobbering mad man off the end of the long stick. Van is back down on the ground with 4 good tires. Finish loading van, get in, start engine and drive away, except that we can't, because we are stuck in a hole........ Yeah, for real. I couldn't make this up.

Definition of Strange

Watching a jar that is sitting on your countertop boil...

Mall shooting in Omaha, Nebraska

Published on myspace,Wednesday, December 05, 2007


Had there been an armed citizen at the mall in Omaha, Nebraska yesterday, less lives may have been taken. Nebraska is one of the few states in the nation which does not allow it's citizens carry concealed weapons. How many more of these instances is it going to take, how many more lives lost, before people wake up and realize that legally armed citizens can and will reduce/prevent crimes and death???

Patriotism

This blog was originally posted on myspace, May 22, 2008



A week or so ago, I finally managed to put up my flagpole, and started flying my flag. It feels good to have the symbol of this great country flying in my own front yard, to have the responsibility of taking proper care of it, and to display it proudly to all those who care to look. Savanna has asked me several times when we were going to have our own pole. I am very proud to have raised someone to be interested in pride in our nation. I have taught her to stand at attention with her hand over her heart at the beginning of each Red Wings game we watch together when they play the National Anthem. We even stood at attention at Dad's lake property one fishing day while we listened to the Star Spangled Banner broadcast before the game we were listening to on the radio. First I stood, then Savanna, then Dillon and Alexis, and finally, Phil. A nearby neighbor had a large flag flying over his front yard. We all faced it until the very last note. I was asked a few days ago, by two different people if I stand at attention during each broadcast before the games, while I am at home alone. I proudly answered "yes". To quote, I said "damn right". This is something that has been taught to me to a point. In school each morning, the class would stand and recite The Pledge Of Allegiance. Before swim meets we would say The Lord's Prayer, then stand at attention for the playing of The Star Spangled Banner after the teams entered the pool area.It is a sign of respect. A demonstration of pride in your nation. It makes me angry and sad to see people talking and clowning around while the anthem plays. Precious few people take the time to be quiet and pay their respect, and that quietness is disturbed and interrupted by others demontrations of uncaring disrespect. Did you know that it is actually United States Code that all persons in attendence except those in uniform are to stand quietly with hands over hearts or hats over left shoulders until the last note? Those in uniform are to face the Flag and salute from the first note until the last. Guess how many times I have stood alone in my living room this season for the anthem? Twice. Once during Gordie Howe's birthday celebration, and once during a game broadcast over CBC. That's a Canadian tv station. Versus does not broadcast it. Versus is also Canadian. Neither does Fox Sports Net. Why does a Canadian station broadcast it, but our own network neglect to? Something is very wrong with this country. Their is precious little respect left. Everyone is out for themselves, no matter the consquence to a fellow American. Those who choose to come into our country don't have any for us, either. Why should they? We don't show any for ourselves! Respect has to start somewhere. Why not with the National Anthem? Teach a person to shut up during the song, and pay their respect, and observe others doing the same thing. That would build pride in the country as well. It's as good a place as any to start. I've written a letter to Fox Sports, I encourage you to do the same. They have put a price on pride and patriotism, and chosen to use that minute of time to put a little more cash in their pockets. That is a disgrace. If you feel the same, please write your own letters, and teach your kids what pride and respect are supposed to be. I had the seed planted young, and it grew into a fierce pride for my country, and I have passed it on, planted the seed for my daughter. I hope you do the same.

It Is Legal...

Thank you, Steve, for the heads up on this article. I've known for some time about the legality of openly carrying a gun in Michigan, and now in the Flint Journal, there is public evidence of the proof... :

Openly carrying their guns, group touts unorthodox beliefs at Burton park
by Melissa Burden | The Flint Journal
Saturday June 14, 2008, 7:17 PM

BURTON, Michigan -- Pistols in their holsters and holsters on their hips, a small group of people who believe in the right to openly carry -- loaded handguns, that is -- met today at Kelly Lake Park for a picnic and spread the word about their unorthodox beliefs.

"We don't do this for attention or to show off," said retired postal worker Jerry Brewer, 55, of Owosso. "We just purely want to educate."

State of Michigan geologist Brian Jeffs, 50, of Bath Township near Lansing has openly carried his 9mm semiautomatic Smith & Wesson for the past eight months, while Nathan Nephew, 21, of Frankenmuth, who works in information technology, claims he openly carries his handgun to protect himself and his loved ones.

And what they are doing is legal, as long as the handguns they are carrying are visible and stay in their holsters, said Burton Police Chief John Benthall. Brandishing the weapon would be breaking the law, Benthall said.

"I have researched this every way I can and I cannot find any law against it," he said.

Brewer, Nephew and Jeffs are all members of the online community at www.opencarry.org, a pro-gun Web site that claims thousands of registered members across the U.S.

At about noon, a group of about six open-carry advocates gathered in a picnic area in the nearly empty park, with just an angler or two across the lake.

Jeffs said the open-carry group grew to about 16 or 17 later in the afternoon and that a few park-goers stopped to ask questions.

Benthall said Friday that Burton police weren't going to react to the group meeting in public, nor have a police presence at the park, unless they received a call. Benthall said he had contact with members of opencarry.org about an open carry and meeting in Burton.

"I haven't given them permission," Benthall said. "I personally don't think this is a good idea. I think this is going to frighten people who don't understand that is legal."

Jeffs said he and others who post on opencarry.org want to help the public become more aware and more accustomed to seeing people openly carrying handguns, knowing that it is legal and that "you shouldn't necessarily feel threatened and call the police."

Jeffs said he takes his 9mm with him on the weekends when he heads into Lansing to shop or stop by a coffee shop.

"I'm doing it for the fact that I want to exercise a right," he said.

Brewer, who hosts "Saturday Afternoon Shootout" with his son, Steve, every other Saturday at 3 p.m. on www.FlintTalkRadio.com., said he's had few questions when out in public with his gun on his hip, including some from law enforcement.

The Michigan group has met a few times in the past six months or so, openly packing their pistols, including at a Flint Township McDonald's.

Nephew, who came to the picnic with his live-in girlfriend, Christina Florence, 24, and her daughter, KayleeAnna Florence, 3, claimed carrying the weapon is a deterrent to being mugged or attacked.

Florence said she was apprehensive about guns for a time, having not grown up with them around, but feels safer with Nephew carrying his.

She also has a concealed permit, but doesn't openly carry.

But they are careful with the weapon and feel safe carrying it around KayleeAnna, Nephew and Florence said.

"It's either in my holster or it's locked up," Nephew said.
See more in Breaking News, Community: Burton


For those among us who are skeptics, here is the link to the original article : www.mlive.com/flintjournal/index.ssf/2008/06/openly_carrying_their_guns_gro.html


Now, as with many other things, such as driving, there are stipulations. You MUST be of age, in this case, 18 years old. You must be allowed by law to possess the pistol in the first place. (Unless you have assaulted someone, or robbed a person or establishment, or are legally depressed or unstable, you are most likely allowed) The pistol must be a legal pistol, registered with the State of Michigan-in your name. It MUST be in the open. Once you enter a vehicle with an openly carried pistol, it is considered concealed, therefore, if you do not possess a concealed pistol license, you must transport the pistol unloaded in magazine and chamber in a case in the trunk of your car. There are places only police can carry, and there are places police can't even carry. As long as a person complies with all the applicable laws concerning transport, registration, and firearms prohibited areas, that person CAN carry it in the open.

If you plan to carry in the open, please do your research and KNOW your laws. If you don't, you're asking for trouble...


Carry on

The Right to Keep and Bear Arms

Somewhere around 1786, the young government of the United States was already squabbling among themselves. Two groups, the Federalists and the Anti-Federalists, could not agree as to whether or not governmental power should be limited. The Federalists were of the opinion that government should have whatever power they need, while the Anti's believed that a gov't with too much power could, without warning, take over and eliminate the people's choices and rights to do much of anything. Out of this squabble came the Bill of Rights. Somehow, the two sides came to a compromise, and wrote down certain rights that would not be taken away from the people in order to give them freedom and safety from their own government. The first article on this bill is for the right of freedom of speech/freedom of religion/freedom of peaceful assembly. The second has to do with the right to keep and bear arms. That's the second of the original ten. Pretty high up in order of importance, don't you think? The language that was used when the bill was written was different than that we speak today. Grammar and sentence structure were paid much more attention than they are today, and were slightly different than today's language. To determine what, exactly, the framers meant by "A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed.", you have to look at the process the article went through to be approved, and see the language that was used in the original drafts. These people, the Anti-Federalists, believed that an armed society could not be taken over by a governmental army, because the government simply could not enlist enough soldiers to do so. There will ALWAYS be more people in society than in a military force. Even at this time in history, there was evidence that if you disarm the people, they are easily overwhelmed, and are at the mercy of their government. Countries around the world were in this position; no arms, no freedom. They viewed a militia as something that could be either existing, or created impromtu. Let me ask you, how can an armed militia be formed impromptu if the citizens creating the militia are not armed? The framers fully intended for society to be armed, in order to protect themselves from not only invasion from other shores, but from their own government, as well as from members of their own society who had intentions less than honorable toward fellow citizens. Don't think that just because today is "Modern Day" we can kick back and not worry about whether our government may turn on us. It was "Modern Day" when that document was written, and in the not to long past, they had fought for freedom from an oppressive government. It can happen at any time. If anything, we are in more danger today, simply because we have become complacent. Today, there are people fighting to take away our right to own and use firearms for our own defense for the reason of trying to reduce or eliminate crime in the streets. I'm glad most of these people are not gun owners, because while their intentions are just, their aim is awful. Only law abiding citizens are going to abide by the laws restricting firearms. Criminals simply do not care about what is legal and what is not. That's what makes them criminals. Take away John Doe's gun, and his ability to defend his home, Joe Criminal knows he can walk in to John's house and not get hurt. Injuries related to gunfire are vastly reduced, but theft and crime rises. Unless, of course, Joe Criminal enters with his own ILLEGAL gun and uses it on John. Crime on the streets is unfortunate, but it will never go away. It is also a small speck in the grand scheme that the framers had in mind when writing to save the people's rights. We are armed not only to protect ourselves from crime, but from any threat, including takeover by any government, even our own.

Career Change

It's about time to change my career path. My paychecks have been hit and miss for a long time now. I'm currently pursuing two different possibilities. I went to Lansing a few days ago to take my Entry Level Law Enforcement civil service test. The test results should arrive around 5-7 weeks from now. If I pass, I'll go back for the next step. Hopefully it will all culminate in my hiring in as a Michigan Conservation Officer. I ran across a link on the Michigan DNR website, did some reading and research on it, and it sounds like the career choice I've been missing all along. The things they teach are all things I would go and buy classes to learn. Firearms training, self defense, defensive and offensive driving, water rescues, atv and snowmobile handling and safety, wilderness survival, and more. They stress that the job MAY entail being outside in inclement weather, but I am happy outside, no matter the weather. Stick me in the middle of the woods somewhere to make sure that people are safe and following the rules, and I'll be a happy guy. I'm also trying to get into a school that teaches how to operate heavy equipment. Dozers, earthmovers, compactors, cranes, draglines, backhoes, graders, all kinds of fun stuff. Both jobs offer paid training, and good pay with benefits. I am so ready to move forward, and start my life over. I'm tired of not being able to get credit, not having the money I need for things like, oh, food, gas, electricity, blah blah blah. I have no insurance for my daughter, or myself. I'm renting a house. I have nothing, really. I have a ton of crap, but nothing really worth a damn. I can't retire on a hobart welder and an ancient simplicity tractor. I'm 34, and have jack shit. It didn't use to be that way. I made a good living installing wood floors. I can't any longer. The work just isn't there. People aren't spending like they used to. I wish these processes would move along a little faster, but they say good things come to those who wait, right? We'll see.


Carry on

Hot Peppers

I am waiting for the timer to tell me when I can turn the burner under my pressure canner off. I made a large batch of gumbo today. Part of the ingredients list is three jalapeno peppers. During a conversation with one of my little sisters, we started talking about hot peppers, and it reminded me of a story... Some time back, lets say, about 18 years ago, my best friends' family let me move into their basement for a short time, since I was basically homeless. I went to Meijer to do some grocery shopping, and saw some habanero peppers. I was on a big pizza kick, and I liked the hot pepper topping you could get to put on top of it. Those habaneros would make some serious pizza topping. I bought 4 or 5 of them, took them back to Jim's house, and proceeded to chop them up, seeds and all. Afterward, I put them on a tray of some sort, and placed them in the toaster oven in the kitchen. It did a fine job of drying the peppers, and later it was a fantastic topping for my pizza. That evening before I went to bed, I washed my hands, took my contacts out, brushed my teeth... you know the drill. The next morning I put my right contact in, and it was uncomfortable. I took it out, rubbed it, rinsed it, and tried again. No good. Tried one more time. Still no good. Ok, left contact. Nope, that one sucked too. I put them both in, and tried to wear them for a few minutes. I don't think I made it past 60 seconds or so. Both my eyes were burning like nothing I'd ever felt before. I ended up throwing them away, and spending something like 200 dollars for new contacts. Talk about some expensive pizza topping.



Carry on

Cast Iron Cooking

One evening I was making a pan of macaroni and cheese. Easy enough. Boil noodles, add milk, butter, and nasty cheese powder. Mix, and enjoy. As I was mixing, however, I noticed quite a substantial amount of pepper. I love pepper in my mac and cheese, but I hadn't put any at all in. The teflon from the pan was flaking off at a disturbing rate, and contaminating my dinner. In the garbage, pan and all. Get a new pan, and start over. At that point, I decided I needed to find a less toxic way to cook non-stick. So began my obsession with cast iron. This stuff is fantastic. THE original non-stick cookware. Properly seasoned, the surface will easily compete, and sometimes beat any other non-stick surface commercially prepared. My Mamaw always cooked in cast iron. My Mamaw Land (mamaw's mom-in-law) also cooked in cast iron. I remember going to Alabama and having southern fried chicken, southern green beans, biscuits, you name it. Breakfasts were sausage, grits, eggs, bacon, more biscuits. Mamaw cooked the same way. I miss those days. Anyway, I ended up with a lot of Mamaw Land's cast iron. Many of those pieces were well used and quite well seasoned. In addition to those pieces, I have collected a fair amount over the years, but never used it. Most of it has been in the garage for some time. Mamaw's stuff fared pretty well, but the others were in rough shape. One large griddle and a number 8 skillet were so rusted that I went after them with my Dewalt grinder equipped with a super heavy duty cup style wire brush. Once the cast iron was de-rusted, I took it all inside and washed it in hot water, dried it with paper towels, and put it in the oven for a short to thoroughly dry it. I then rubbed a moderate amount of peanut oil over all of the cookware, and put it in the oven at 500 degrees for 77 minutes. I had enough iron that I baked it in two batches. After the first treatment, I let it cool to the touch, washed it with hot water, and baked it again. Mamaw's stuff only got one treatment. The rusted stuff got two. It all came out very black, smooth, and ready for cooking. The griddle needs more seasoning, but that will come with use and time. Mamaw's iron is an absolute dream to cook on. Fried chicken leaves nothing which has to be scrubbed off, it mostly rinses out. Anything that happens to be left is easily removed with a Goody boar's hair hair brush I use specifically for cleaning cast iron. Everything is rinsed with extremely hot water while the pan is hot, brushed out if need be, dried, and given a nice coat of bacon grease. I no longer have to worry about ingesting that teflon. Seems as though those old folks knew what they were doing...

Matters of the Heart

I am madly in love with a woman who will not commit her life to me, as I've decided to do for her. I've waited 2 1/2 years to come home and see her smiling face after work, to spend my nights with her, take her to all the family functions, and so forth. 2 1/2 years. There is a lot of complication to this relationship, and a lot of history behind it as well. We met about 15 years ago, and dated for quite a long time. Now, we've found each other back in the others life, though things are slightly changed. All I want from her is her, and she doesn't seem to understand that. The longer I wait, the more hurt and angry and disenchanted I become. I can see no good end to this at the moment...

Simplicity Goes Bang

Went to deer camp a weekend or two ago, and took the old beater tractor up to mow the lawn and the path to the back 40. It's a mid-80's Simplicity 6216, with an 18 horse twin that someone used to replace the original 16 horse engine. This thing is a beast. I can push 8-10 inches of wet snow the length of my driveway with it, clearing a path a little less than 3 feet wide in one pass. It's an impressive machine, though it doesn't look it. We hauled it up in an old 6x12 trailer, also loaded up with a bunch of hunting/camping equipment of Steve's. We unloaded the tractor, and used it to move the trailer practically into the woods, so that nobody could back up, hook up, and haul it off. Then I took it down the path, with Steve, Justice, and Savanna in front of me, clearing large sticks. The object was to mow the ferns and miscellaneous weeds, and blow the leaves off the track. Everything went well, until after I made the turn at the end, and headed back. Halfway back, Steve heard me hit something with the mower. I heard something else, though. What I heard was ye old Briggs and Stratton saying "I've had just about enough of this crap!!!". I idled her down, and she quit, sounding like she was hitting on only one of two cylinders. Well, we couldn't get the poor beast restarted, so we pushed it the rest of the way back to the cabin. I took out one spark plug, and couldn't see the piston moving. Steve took out the other one and said he COULD see it moving. I looked at his side, and sure enough, I could see it. I went back to my side, now that I knew what I was looking for, and still couldn't see it moving. Some sheet metal and a head later, I stuck melted candles to the top of the non-moving piston, and yanked it right out of the cylinder. This is not a good thing, considering all I did to the engine was remove the head. The connecting rod had broken into at least three pieces. Dead horse. Dead horse that we had used to make the trailer inaccessible. Oh boy...

Der Skunkenator

This past weekend, I went to the cabin in Mio to prepare for firearm deer season, and work on the p.o.s. tractor that decided to crap out... more on that later. One of my sisters went with me, and took her crumb muncher. Steve also went, joined by Angie and their crumb muncher, Justice. Angie and Stephanie were in the cabin chatting, Briahnna and Justice were playing hide and seek outside, and Steve was performing some sort of work out behind the outhouse. Justice had just joined him. Steve had run a screw partway into a table attached to the building, and the commotion apparently made a skunk decide it needed to vacate. I was standing beside the fire ring and happened to look up to see the worlds largest skunk waddling toward the cabin. At that moment, Steve ran around from behind the outhouse, and commenced to try to end the skunk. At that point, I found myself halfway across the yard after the skunk with a stick, Briahnna right behind me. Don't ask me what I intended to do with the stick, cuz I really couldn't say. After the first shot, though, I dropped the stick and drew my .38 to "help". The last thing I want is to sit down for a "rest" and have my backside and family jewels skunked. We were both holding .38 snubbies, and let me tell you, a moving target at 30-40 feet is damned difficult to hit with one of those. Steve threw 5 at it, and I threw 5. I know where I was shooting, and located 3 holes in the ground. I don't think we actually hit the poor animal, but I seriously doubt it will return. It never did run very fast, tho...

Definition of Irony

... poking yourself in the eye with the stem of your safety glasses...
yeah, it sucked

The Nature of the Beast

I am a wood floor installer by trade. I live, breathe, and eat hardwood. Sometimes literally, though not exactly by choice. I enjoy doing my job, but I certainly don't enjoy the inconstant paychecks lately. Work has been hit and miss here for a year and a half, or two. Come to think of it, longer than that. I can go for several weeks working at least 5 days a week, then suddenly sit on my backside for two weeks not earning a paycheck. I used to be able to make a good living doing this, now I'm not even scraping by. Everyone who sees my work comments on the high quality of it, so the issue is not with that. People just aren't spending money. I used to be able to install 400 square feet in a day, and go do it again the next without much of a thought. Now, 400 feet in a day is an amazing feat. The workload has been so light in the recent past that I've gotten used to having more time to install a floor. However, starting this past Monday, I have 1256 square feet to install, and a deadline of Wednesday. Today is Wednesday, and it's done. I'm whooped. Tomorrow I have a repair to do, and start another 450 feet. I'll finish that one Friday. It's feast time, soon to come is famine.


Carry on

Autumn

I've been struck several times in the last week by the beauty of the world during this season. This year's round of fall colors seems to be especially vibrant. It's a wonderful time to be alive...

How Things Do Change...

This little tidbit came up in conversation a couple days ago with a friend of mine. I remarked on how little responsibility is put upon the shoulders of todays children. They are expected to learn much more than children of ages ago at the same age, but are not made to be responsible for nearly as much. At 7 and 8 years old, I was able to cook simple things. I knew how to make macaroni and cheese, and could fry and scramble eggs, make juice from frozen concentrate, and so forth. I was entrusted on occasion to watch two or three little sisters at a young age, too. My parents had a hard time making ends meet, and also needed to get out of the funny farm of a house once in a while. We lived in a rented old farmhouse on a large farm in Nebraska. The farmer we rented from had a little livestock, mostly pigs, and grew a buttload of corn. He grew a sizable patch of sweet corn for food, quite a little bit of popcorn, and what I thought was a gazilion acres of feed corn. We had a large vegetable garden. By large, I mean we got 300 pounds of potatoes from it one year, in addition to the tons of tomatoes, green beans, lettuce, eggplant, carrots, and so forth. Dad mail ordered 100 chicks, and we raised them as food, and as layers for eggs. I was expected to help with the monumental task of splitting and stacking firewood to feed the beast of a woodburning furnace in the basement. I helped harvest veggies, shuck corn, cut corn from the cob... Yes, 3rd and 4th grade, using a sharp knife to cut kernels off the cobs for canning. Mom signed me up for swimming lessons at school around age 7 or 8. One of the days I was supposed to go there, Dad had taken the car to work for overtime, and left Mom at home with us kids. We only had one car. I begged and begged for her to let me ride my bicycle 5 miles through farmland to the school building to meet my bus. My school, btw, had 400 students in it, Kindergarden through 12th grade. Small town... Anyway, she finally relented, probably just to shut me up. I had ridden in the car enough times to town to know my way. I rode that 5 miles to the school, got on the bus to go to swim lessons, back to the school by bus, and finally home again 5 miles on that bicycle. Alone. This would have been around 1981-82. Long before cell phones, and there were absolutely no payphones between the school and home. She has told me she was pulling her hair out all day long wondering if I was coming back home. I made it, without a scratch. I was also allowed to drive Dad's Snapper tractor to plow the driveway. 20 hp, and hydraulic everything at my little bitty fingertips. I don't know any kids today who have been conditioned enough to trust with any of those things. Half the reason, I think, is the fact that CPS would be called on parents, who could be thrown in jail for neglect, or endangerment, or some damn ridiculous thing like that. My daughter is now 8 years old, and she has some minor responsibilities. She can make pancakes, pour her own cereal, do laundry, and even shoot empty cans with her OWN .22 bolt action rifle. She cooks and shoots under supervision, but it won't be long, and I won't have to be such a leech with those things, even. Someday soon, I hope she'll have the strength to drive MY tractor. I know she wants to. Give your children some adult responsibilities. They will grow up with greater respect for themselves, people around them, and the world and it's workings.

Carry on

Half-staff

May as well start out with a bang. I've noticed some flags around here flying at half staff every day. I suspect the reason for this may be that our fearless leader (read: Granholm) requests quite often that flags be lowered in recognition of fallen heroes in the middle east. As do many people, I have family fighting over there. I am appalled at the idea of lowering my flag for the day to "honor" the sacrifice of a soldier. If any of my family gives his/her life in defense of my freedom, I will dip my flag in the morning, but it will fly at the top for the remainder of the day. Many, many soldiers have died in order to see that our banners fly in honor at the top of our flagpoles. I intend to see that all those lives are honored by flying mine at the top every day, with minimal exception. I grieve for those losses, and give thanks to all soldiers who do their job every day to defend this wonderful country. You have my unending respect.


Carry on