Christmas 2015, Part 1 of 3...

Well, we started our Christmas season with the Michael W. Smith concert in Cincinnati and that gave us one day to rest up and then we would be off to Brooklyn to spend time with D,D,Q,H & V.  Really looking forward to it.  Not only do we get to celebrate Christmas with them, we get to see Quinn's school's Christmas show and we get to celebrate Doug's birthday.


Normally when we drive to Brooklyn, we stop in PA and spend the night in Bethlehem.  Boy what a fitting place to spend the night.  So, we arrived on Friday.  And before I get into telling about the weekend, let me first say that the State of NY gets a boatload of "attaboys" for getting the highway completed through Staten Island. Boy does that make a huge difference.

The choir show was pretty good.  Lots of parents and little kids in the audience. The school doesn't have an auditorium so they use their church for things like this.  It was decorated nicely and added lots of atmosphere to the Christmas songs and stories.

What better way to spend a Christmas than with your grand kids.  Quinn showed us their Advent calendar and told us what it signified.  He and Heath also showed us their tree and the ornaments they made for it. I think Vivian wanted to tell us about her role in all of this, but she was having too much fun flashing that big smile of hers and those bright eyes.  That was pretty much all she had to do while we were there to get our attention.  And it worked every time.

It was really fun watching the youngsters opening their presents.  Things haven't really changed a lot from the times of my childhood.  Paper goes flying every which way, and mom and dad have to keep track of things for them so nothing gets lost or put in the trash bag by mistake.  And no phrase is more important to note prior to even wrapping the gifts is -- "batteries not included."  The best way to shut down the moment is not having batteries for something.  (It also helps to have the correct size, Grandpa!)

Some of the gifts came without batteries being required.  Grandma got both of the boys puppets.  She has been a ventriloquist for many years and showed them some of her puppets when they were here this past summer.  They both really liked them, so Grandma got them each one.  Quinn got a lion, Heath a turtle.  These only require some imagination to make them work and Quinn jumped right on that idea.  He was having lots of fun with his.

The weather was really nice while we were there.  Really unusual for Christmas time.  We were able to take some walks and we took Heath up to the church courtyard to play some hide and seek. He took his glider and we had a good time outdoors too.

And did I mention that Miss Vivian was the hit of the show when she broke out that smile ?  I would often wonder what the kids were thinking when they would stare at the tree, or the decorations or just smile at us.  I know for certain that when I was there age, there was nothing going on between these ears, and I probably wouldn't have to work too hard to come up with an unlimited list of those who would attest to that fact.  But when I look at these little ones, I know that they are WAY beyond that, way into deeper things that I ever imagined at their age.  Good for them.  Keep going.

One night, we went out to look at the Christmas decorations.  Doug took us to a place to see lights that put Clark Griswold to shame. They were unbelievable.  I noticed TV news trucks there and sure enough, there wea a segment on the NBC nightly news a couple of days later about these lights.

 Of course, a celebration of any kind wouldn't be complete without some silliness.  We played a game of 20 questions one afternoon and these pictures came out of that.  Lots of fun.

What a great time we had.  We left on Monday and set out for Carlisle for the evening.  This normally 3-hour drive took 5.  The next morning we finished the trip home.  Again, this was a long day of driving in the rain and heavy fog, accidents, and sitting in traffic.  This leg is normally 6 hours depending on stops and traffic.  However, this time it took about 9 hours.  Oh well, it was worth it.  D,D,Q,H and V were going to spend their first Christmas at home and then they were off to NC to spend time with Danika's parents and some of the rest of the family.  I hope their trip is smoother than our drive.  The I-95 corridor can be a real bear normally, let alone during a holiday. 

May Peace be your gift at Christmas and your blessing all year through!  

Hooah

Christmas 2015, Part 2 of 3...

On Christmas day, we all headed up to Paulding to Luke and Linda's house to have a celebration with them, Walt and Carol, Jessica, Meredith, Brian, Logan and Megan.  We haven't been up that-a-way for a while so it was good to be at their house.  They have do quite a bit to it in terms of redecorating and it really looks nice.

 Meredith spent a good part of the day explaining various aspects of smart phones, downloading some different aps, and putting together a hilarious video on something called "jib-jab."  Somehow this got posted to Facebook.  It really was a hoot.

Luke and Linda have a dog named "Buddy."  It is a spaniel and really good-natured.  So, when we were opening presents, Buddy had to see if anyone needed any help.

I think it's a dog thing.  Our Bailey used to get her nose into the wrapping paper and give the recipient lots of help (wanted or unwanted) as the gift was unwrapped. 

As with all pets that are easily mistaken as part of the family, Buddy had his own present that was his to open any way he could.  Adult humans usually try to pick up after themselves when they unwrap a gift.  Dogs -- not so much.

 

And then, what would Christmas be without a family picture.  Over the years I have been in charge of doing this and have gotten quite good at setting the timer and running around to be in the shot just before the timer delivers that final beep.  Pretty good looking group.


This was a fun time.  We all agreed that we don't do this often enough -- not the gift giving, but just getting together.  We said we were going to try to do better this coming year. Perhaps that is the best gift we could take away from this gathering.

"How could it be so? It came without ribbons!... it came without tags!... it came without packages, boxes, or bags!" (Dr. Seuss)

Hooah

Christmas 2015, Part 3 of 3...

On Saturday evening, we sent up to Lima to spend the evening at Chuck and Mary's house.  All of their kids and grand kids were there.  Busy place.

It seems that Mary had asked Chuck to play his sax for everyone.  He used to play in high school and was a member of a jazz group at the school.  Mary said this was one of the things on her wish list, so Chuck got out the music stand (which he said had not been put up for 30 years or so) and his sax and got an accompaniment disc that he could play thru his TV and entertained all in attendance.  The kids were amazed and the adults were impressed.  Good job, Chuck.

 

Oh, yeah, one other thing...we were also impressed that Chuck didn't need oxygen after holding one of those notes for a while.

Later on, the younger ones were playing a game that ultimately ends up with someone getting pie (or in our case, whipped cream)  in the face.  It looked like fun, so I violated one of my cardinal rules and volunteered to try it.  I spun the wheel and got a "5" and began turning the crank/release mechanism.  As it got to the fifth click, I had not been hit by the quickly melting cream.  I counted myself lucky and prepared to get up from the chair.  Notice the smile on my face.  Well, hold that thought...

because that short bit of luck was quickly erased as I was shamed into another try.  Luckily, the wheel came up with a "2" and I figured I would escape again.  WRONG-O!! After looking at these pictures, I have no idea how that whipped cream missed a nose that big, but I sure was glad it did.

Fun night.  Kinda glad that part of the joy of Christmas is celebrating with children, regardless of how big or old they are.

He who has not Christmas in his heart will never find it under a tree.  (Anon.)

Hooah

Christmas concert in Cincinnati with Michael W. Smith...

Pam and I were talking one evening about doing something special this year for Christmas.  We thought a concert might be a fun thing to do to spark the seasonal spirits, so we looked on line for something in the area (or at least in Ohio).  Well, we looked and saw a couple of them, but kinda dropped it and thought we would get back to looking on some other day.

And then we were watching TV one evening and the CMA Christmas program was on and we really enjoyed it.  Great music and songs by country artists, singing songs about the season which brought back some old memories of Christmases in the past.  I also liked it because there were no political agendas or any of that garbage, and they called it "Christmas time" and NOT "holiday time."

So, somewhere during the show, Michael W. Smith and Martina McBride sang a very nice Christmas song.  Pam and I decided that we always liked Michael W. Smith's music so we would look up any of his concerts in the area.  As luck would have it, he had a concert in Cincinnati coming up and there just happened to be two really great seats available.  We got them and planned our trip.  Neither of us had ever been to the Cincinnati Music Hall, so this was going to be a first.  We were excited.

This is the Cincinnati Music Hall.  It was a huge building.  Really Grand.

I took a couple of pix, including this "selfie" while we were waiting for the doors to open.

  

 The orchestra area was all decorated in a Christmas theme.  It is a very nice place.  Our seats were in the second orchestra section, center-stage, row 16.  There was a break in front of our seating row so we were able to stretch out, and didn't have anyone sitting in front of us for about ten feet.  Really good seats.  Don't know how they were available all that time, but we sure enjoyed them.

This makes the third concert of Michael W. Smith's that we have gone to see...Columbus, Ohio; St. Louis,MO; and Cincinnati, OH.  Does that make us "groupies?"

Pam and I used to go to a lot of concerts together when we were first married (Chicago, Three Dog Night, Diana Ross and the Supremes, The Four Tops, The Beach Boys, etc., etc.).  Since then our tastes have changed, and although we still really like those older groups, I/we have settled into music like this concert and TV show where we can understand the words (without my hearing aids) and don't have to worry about any more hearing loss.

What a great evening.  We thought about staying the evening in Cincinnati, but we were planning to leave for NY to see the "kids" in two days and still had some Christmas shopping to do.  

My favorites of the evening ??  His songs, "Heroes" and  "All is Well" were far and away my two "I-would-have-been-disappointed-if-they-weren't-performed" songs.  Both of these hold very special, personal memories for me.  Needless to say, I was not disappointed.  What a great way to kick off the season.

May Peace be your gift at Christmas and your blessing all year through! (Author Unknown)

Hooah

Reliving the glory days...

Just every once in a while, I get the urge to get the guns out and head on down to the range just to see if I still have it (yes, that is an implied assertion that I actually once really did have "it").  If any of my old NCOs happen to stumble on this and take issue with this statement, perhaps thinking that they were better, or that much better at this art than I was, I would challenge them to 50 rounds of .45 cal. or 9mm at the range of their choice. Loser buys the beer guys!!

So this past weekend, I got myself down to the local Gander Mountain store and picked up some boxes of ammo to take with me.  The prices there are usually better than at the range.  I think I will also pick up some targets next time as I think they are also a bit higher at the range.  So, having done that, on Tuesday evening I called an old friend of mine (an old WWII gentleman who is still very spry and really knows his way around guns) and asked if he wanted to go down for a while.  He had a bit of a cold and thought he should maybe stay home.  Wednesday was a beautiful day, sunny with a high of 64 degrees.  I wonder if he might have rethought his plans.  Oh, well, maybe next time. 

The next person I thought of was my brother.  He kinda likes to shoot and is thinking of purchasing a gun so he likes to go and look.  He shoots OK, but then, he was a cook in the army.  I guess if you could fire a spoon he would be pretty good.  He told me he too had a bit of a bug, and would pass this time. 

So, I asked my wife if she wanted to go.  She has never been anywhere near a firing range, so this would be a first. So the "Pioneer Woman" said yes and off we went.  She also wanted to stop at the book store to pick up a couple of things she had ordered, so this was really a trade-off.  I can live with that.

Here are the targets from the range. The first one you see is the 9mm target.  The second one is from the .45 cal. Again, the whole purpose behind this trip was just to get back to doing something I once really enjoyed doing.  The secondary reason was that I just got new glasses and wanted to see how much of an impact they would have on my initial accuracy.  Both of these sessions were fired at 20 feet (a normal close contact range) and if necessary, I could make adjustments later.

On this target, you will see three distinct shot groups.  The first group is the center-mass.  A little scattered, but still pretty much on the mark.  the second group is the neck shots.  I pulled one off to the right, but the rest of the group is pretty good (need to work on the horizontal sight picture some).  Then I went for the head shots.  Kinda all over the place there, but still effective.  I have never really felt comfortable shooting the 9mm for some reason.

This is the target for the .45 cal.  Same distance, same progression.  First ones (center-mass) were pretty much on, but just a bit high.  The second grouping (neck) were OK.  I was good with the head shots.  Then I had some ammo left over, so I tried to see if I could hit spots.  I took aim at the outside ring, shoulder levels.  The ones on the left were good, but the ones on the right needed some help.  Might have been a breeze at that time (oops -- forgot, this was an indoor range.  No breeze.  Must have been operator error!).  Then, to finish it off, I thought I would see if I could give this target some pierced ears.  The left two shots were mixed, one good, and one missed him by an inch or so.  The right ones were right on. Could hang a couple of big old hoops on that side (once the ringing stopped).

All in all, it was really fun for me.  Not sure the "Pioneer Woman" was all that cracked about it, but at least she went.  I wanted to get a picture of her up by the firing line with a target behind her so she could post something on her Facebook about her going to the shooting range.  Just to see what kind of comments she would get form her more "civilized" friends.

So, later on as I was cleaning the guns (in my Army days I would have called them weapons -- guess I am getting older, huh!), I got to thinking back to how much I really enjoyed going to the range with my troops.  Seemed like it always rained, or the wind was blowing 100 miles per hour, or it was snowing , or all of the above.  But it was a time for us to come together as a team.  We laughed, cussed, spit, fired, made excuses, bragged and ended the weekend tired and soaking wet, but we really enjoyed it.  All the real soldiers couldn't wait for these trips, and the others (usually the younger and less experienced soldiers) ended up enjoying it because we worked real hard with them and they got to where they could hold their own with the "old guys."

I guess those who don't like guns are pounding their fists on the desk as they read this, coming up with all sorts of names for me and those like me who just really enjoy this sport.  Too bad.  So sorry you feel this way (not really).

A man's rights rest in three boxes: the ballot box, the jury box, and the cartridge box. (Frederick Douglass)

Hooah

What a sight...

I was driving to town this evening to pick up some things just as the moon broke over the horizon.  It was huge!  Can't recall seeing one so big.  Maybe it was just the position it was at in the sky, or where I was in relation to the horizon, but it was full and huge. 

I called my wife on the car phone and had her take a picture of it out our back door. The picture is a bit grainy and fuzzy, but maybe you will get the idea.

If you look closely on the right you can see a pole from the back fence and on the left is a part of a pine tree out there.  You can also see some of the lights from the farm down the road.

Unfortunately my wife didn't get the shot just as the moon was at the horizon.  I called her too late.  I think as the thing rose in the sky, it got a bit smaller.  Anyway, you still get the idea.

Probably won't be sleeping very soundly tonight.

May you have warm words on a cool evening, a full moon on a dark night, and a smooth road all the way to your door. (Anon.)

Hooah

These days are fading...

On Saturday this past seek, we had a really beautiful day out here in the country.  The sun was out, there was still a gentle breeze, but it was not enough to make you put on a jacket.  The temperature was in the upper 60s -- and this is the middle of November.  Getting a day like this is almost like stealing.

I thought about playing golf, but every time I walked by the back door, the pile of cattails down by the burn pit kept calling to me.  I really wanted to get those all burned and done away with before the bad weather came and I lost my chance.  Also, I was also hoping to get rid of that pile before the grass was killed underneath it.   So, reluctantly, out I went.

I have always been one to admit when I have a weakness.  I had just put the last pile of cattails on the fire, and the day was so pleasant, I looked around to see if there was anything else that needed to be done out there by the barn.  And sure enough, there was.  The hammock was still up from the summer and sure was looking pretty lonely from non-use for a while.  So, I felt it was only right that I would go over and say hello.  Well, this led to that, and next thing I knew, I was lying down, rocking back and forth.  There are a lot of people who wouldn't believe me (not that I would take any and every opportunity to lie in the hammock).  They just might not believe me as to how beautiful it was on November14th.  In the flying business, we called this "severe clear."  So I snapped a couple of shots with the phone camera. 

Lying there, I took great pleasure watching the smoke dance around in the breeze, up, down, away from me, and back in my face.  I could also hear small airplanes above, flying around in that great mass of blue sky, and I recalled my days of flying, looking down on days like this, wondering which was the winds were blowing, if at all.  And then I would see some guy burning leaves, creating a wind sock of sorts for me, letting me know what was going on down there. 

Funny how things like that pop back into your mind, when all you originally had set out to do was clean up around the pond.

When once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there you will always long to return.  (Leonardo Da Vinci)

Hooah 

P.S.  OK.  So how do I top a day like this ... I played golf with my brother and a couple of his friends the next day.  This was an almost perfect day too.  And what is even better -- I shot an 86 and beat my brother by 3 strokes.  Now this might be the last day of the year to play golf, and that means I have bragging rights for the whole winter.    

Winters are pretty long around here, so this could be really fun!!

Light those green lights...

With Veterans' Day being last week, I not only wanted to make sure people knew a Veteran lived here, but I also wanted to let them know that there were people who lived around here who supported our Veterans more than just on that one day.  So, I went to Wal-Mart and purchased some green lights to put out by the garage where they could burn throughout the night and spread the word.

They really shine brightly out here in the country and really stand out.  I hope my neighbors don't mind these lights being on all night, shining in their bedroom windows.

I also think it is important , especially now, with all the crap going on and all the crap being thrown around in Washington, to have them on.  I know they don't shine nearly as brightly in the daytime, but they are still on.

I think there is one higher office than president and I would call that patriot.  (Gary Hart)

Hooah

What goes around comes around ...

What a surprise I got last week -- my grandson, Quinn, went to his first Cub Scout meeting.  I didn't even know he knew what Cub Scouts was, let alone was going to go to a meeting.  But Doug texted me a note one evening telling me that he was taking him to a meeting to see if he would be interested. The next day, he said it was pretty much a bunch of kids running around.  Doug said he kinda remembered that from his early days as a Cub.  I had to laugh to myself.  But this week he sent us a picture of Quinn in his uniform.  Doug said they are broken down into Dens now and they are moving forward.

Doug did pretty well in going through the ranks of Cub scouting.  He had lots of badges on his shirt and seemed to do pretty well at it.  Pam was one of his Den Mothers and that was really neat to watch.   Here aer some pictures of Doug's shirt and vest.

The history of scouting in our family goes back to when my dad took my brother and me to our first Cub  Scout meetings back in Zanesville.  Our pack was associated with/sponsored by the Armco Steel Company.  I stuck with it through Boy Scouts (First Class).

So now it looks like the tradition might continue.

One thing I really like to see is the enthusiasm on his face.  Pretty impressive for a 7-yr. old.  I certainly hope he likes it. It will open up a lot of avenues of exploration and challenges, and serve as something he can take pride in as he moves through the different levels and earns badges and arrow points.  I can't wait to see if he makes a pine wood derby car.  That will be fun to see.

Oh, by the way, notice the Minion pumpkin behind him that they made for Halloween.  Pretty cool, guys.

The values you learn as a Scout are like a compass. They can help you find your way through difficult and sometimes uncharted terrain. (Bill Bradley)

Hooah

"Bad art by Good People"...

The arts in Shelby County are supported by a group known as the Gateway Arts Council.  And as with all arts related groups, funding is tight.  So, to try to refill their coffers, they have a project once or twice a year known as "Bad Art by Good People."  They identify a theme and get local residents, politicians, teachers, lawyers, preachers, doctors, etc., etc. to do some form of art related to the theme and then they solicit votes ($1.00 per vote) from community members, followed by an auction to cap off the drive.

Well, this year's drive is related to the "Field of Valor" being held in Sidney during the first week of September.  During this week, the Historical Society is bringing The Traveling Vietnam Wall to Sidney, erecting a field of flags (approx. 1,000 U.S. Flags flying in an adjacent field), the civic band is putting on a concert, a local car club is hosting a car show "cruise-in" and a local runners club is holding a 5K run/walk "To the Wall."  All in all , it will be a fun week.

In conjunction with this event, the Gateway Arts Council will display the entries at the field so the public can see all "this great art work."  This year's artists are all Veterans of the Sidney/Shelby County area, and their work is to be related to something patriotic or from their military past.

Yes, I am one of the artists, and I would like to present my piece titled "Duty, Honor, Country."

This piece is mounted on a 16"x22" canvas.  I made the background by cutting up an old pair of my BDU (Battle Dress Uniform) pants and gluing it over the canvas.  The picture is one I set up against a wall of ivy on a brick wall.  The Gateway people told us that each of our pieces should have a personal story behind it, so my story is that I wore, carried, ate, shot, cut or followed every item of equipment used in this piece.  I shot the picture and then got it enlarged as a black and white.  I also had a color one done just so I could cut out the U.S. Flag and paste it in.  I thought it would draw one's eye into the shot.

I have no delusions of grandeur here, but did have fun making it and going thru the process.  I would also like to make a couple of bucks for the Council, but that's about it.  Not about to give up my day job (oh, yeah, I already did that!!).  There was one other possible name for it "Tools of the Trade" but thought the one I chose would work out better in the long run.  I hope you like it.

One other thing I almost forgot -- once the Gateway reaches a certain point in funds received from this project, they plan to donate 50% of their funds over that point to the Dayton VA Hospice.  What a noteworthy project.  In fact, one of the pieces in this "contest" is being done by the director of that Hospice unit, a retired Army Colonel who also serves as the chief nurse on our Vets to DC trips.  If you have time after September 5th or so, go to the Gateway Arts Council's website to check out all the works. <gatewayartscouncil.org>.  Click on the Bad Art by Good People link.

A patriot is one who, against all odds and circumstances, is prepared to defend his country...and sometimes against its own government.


Hooah

OK...I'm back...

Been gone for a while.  But if you are a follower of this blog, you've probably gotten tired of checking in just to see the same last entry.  Well, I've got some new stuff for you, so let's go.

One of the things I really enjoy, as if you haven't already noticed, is playing golf.  Currently I play in two leagues; one is called "The Senior Swingers" and the other is the McCartyville/Rumley league. 

The Senior Swingers is a group of about 80 retired guys in the Sidney area who play on Monday mornings.  We all get a laugh out of the name, because in "our day", a Swinger was someone who had quite possibly had a dubious reputation as someone who chased women, drank and gambled a lot.  Now, there might be some guys in this league who still entertain fleeting fantasies of those days, but now most of their swinging is done on a porch, or on a golf course and only after a couple of doses of Advil.  Some of these old boys can still play pretty well though.  For instance, just the other day, I played with 3 guys, shot a 41 and got my behind shaved again.  The other 3 guys had a 36, 37, and 38.  Oh well, it was a beautiful morning.

The McCartyville/Rumley group is a really good bunch of neighbors and friends.  After playing our weekly round, we usually congregate in the "19th hole" and do what some of the guys say we do best.  So this week, as we were sitting around, guys were calling each other by their nicknames.  I got curious about how each of them got these names, so the stories started flowing.  Here are some of them:

"Beaty" got his nickname a long time ago when he was playing CYO basketball here. They were state champs. It seems a number of the guys were playing and picking their favorite players and Tom picked Zelmo Beaty, Jr.  It seems Zelmo was a center who played in college for Prarie View A&M, and was a 1st round (3rd overall pick) in the 1962 NBA draft by the St. Louis Hawks.  Zelmo was 6"9" tall and played center.  Our "Beaty" would have to hold up a broom over his head to reach 6"9", so there was obviously no connection between the two in terms of playing position.

"Squeak" was a younger brother in his early life, and his handle was laid on him by his brothers.

Nobody seems to know how "Whitey" got his nickname.  His real name isn't even close to it.  And I never got a real good story on how "Peatie" (Dave) got his name.

One of the guys was called "Mary" which was a reference to an old girl friend.  Nobody calls him that much, so the flame must have died in his early teenage years.

And there were many more, but I didn't have a pencil or paper with me.  I might revisit this some time.

I just think it is important to know things about the guys you spend this much time with.  I like to get to know them, pay attention to their "story" and, when possible, get some history of the area...even if it is sometimes told with a wink of the eye and a belly laugh.  Being in a group with nicknamed guys, I feel the closeness of this group, the trust each has in the other, the acceptance.  A new guy like myself (even though I have known some of these guys for going on 19 years now) doesn't dare just blurt out a nickname when talking to one of these guys.  That right is something that has to be given by them.

I love nicknames -- the stories, the history, the camaraderie.

Hooah

It seemed like a good idea at the time...

About a month ago, shortly after trying to cut off my thumb with the hedge trimmers, I looked around for another, a safer project and decided that it was now time to get the aerator I had talked about for a long time and get it installed in the pond.  Following the winter freezing, I was concerned that I would have another huge fish kill.  However, my assault on the ice with my trusty chain saw proved successful and I didn't lose one single fish -- to ice.  However, shortly after the thaw, and I may have mentioned this already, there was pond scum all over the place and quite frankly, it looked and smelled like the dickens.

So I went to the feed mill and got a bag of copper sulfate and spread it on the pond.  I have done this many times in the past when the pond was just built.  However, I must have put too much on as I lost about 20-25 fish, including the grass carps.  So, now, I had to get the oxygen back in the water if I wanted to have any fish left.

I went to the hatchery and purchased a real nice bubbler with a 1/4 hp motor and weighted air hose.  The price seemed reasonable, so I put it in the back of the Jeep and came home, eager to get it in the water.  Happy fish was the goal.  My installation plan was to get the thing in the water and put the motor in the barn.  For the time being I would have to run a couple of heavy-duty extension cords out there, but that didn't seem like too bad of a price to pay.  I also planned to run an electric line out to the barn and that would also give me some electric out there.  Sounds like a plan. 

Now for the execution part.  My wife went to the nursing home where she volunteers twice a week, so I thought this would be the perfect time to get the bubbler in the water.  I filled the "box" with rocks and attached the air hose to it.  Then I looked around and realized I had no way to get the "box" out to the center of the pond without some sort of boat.  It seems that the only boat I have is my canoe.  Oh well, it's a boat isn't it? Hmmmmmmmmm.

So I loaded the stuff in the canoe, made a small concession to that tiny inner voice in my head that said "this might not be the best plan you've ever had..." and put on one of my life jackets.  I wasn't really sure how cold the water might be in the middle of the pond and there was a slight chance I might get wet, so I thought I should at least not make my wife a widow today.  And with all that courage and bravado, I shoved off.  All went well at first.  I got the canoe in position and dropped the anchor over the side to secure me in the center.  Oh, did I mention that it was really windy that day?  Minor technicality.  Next, I pulled the box of rocks (which now seemed much heavier than it did on the shore) to me and secured the ropes in the holes on the top.  These would allow you to lower it to the bottom and keep it from getting turned upside down in the process.  OK.  Ropes in hand -- here we go.  As I was beginning to lean over toward the side of the canoe, I noticed how really unstable it was getting.  Now I don't know if anyone has ever measured the amount of time there is between the moment you realize something is a bad idea and the time you experience the consequences, but I bet you can count the seconds on one hand.  The next thing I knew, I was out in the water.  It wasn't too cold though.  And fortunately, all of the "stuff" was still in the canoe.  Only the dummy was in the water.  One good thing, however, was that when I looked around to see if any one was watching (the first thing all real men do when they find themselves in a situation like this -- sure didn't want any witnesses), I didn't see anyone or hear anyone laughing or screaming.  So, I decided that I probably should pull the canoe back to shore and think up another plan. 

Oh, I mentioned that the canoe was anchored didn't I?  So when I started to swim back to the shore trying to pull the canoe on a much more windy day now, it didn't want to move.  I really had to struggle swimming back to shore pulling an anchored canoe that was leaving a trail of mucky water behind it.  I got everything unloaded, went to the house and put the clothes in the dryer and went back to the drawing board.

The next day, my next door neighbor's father happened to come over with the kids to fish.  I confided in him and told him of my titanic struggle.  He laughed politely and then told me he had a friend who had a small john boat.  The next day, he brought it down in the back of his pick-up truck.  With the proper equipment, it only took me about 30 minutes to get the thing done and plug it in.  Worked like a champ.  I think I've had at least a couple of dozen people tell me now how they would have done it, or boy was I dumb doing it that way.  Oh well, it was kinda like that old saying -- "it seemed like a good idea at the time."

One thing I did that was kinda fun was I took a long segment of parachute cord and tied a duck decoy onto the box of rocks.  This serves two purposes: one -- if I ever need to get the box out of the pond for any reason, I just have to get the john boat (not a canoe) and pull up the cord that is attached to the duck; and two -- passers-by think that is the tamest duck they have ever seen.  We even had a real duck land on the pond and swim up to the decoy and swim around it a couple of times before finally taking off.  Bet he felt almost as foolish as I did.

So, that was quite an adventure.  Just another day on McCartyville Road.  I just hope the fish enjoy it.  The pond really looks good now.  I can't wait until the late summer and fall dog days to see if it helps keep the water nice.

Success in life is kinda like fishing.  Some fish get caught for biting, and others get caught because they were in the wrong part of the pond at the wrong time.  Me, I would rather go out as a biter. 

Hooah

What a surprise at the pond...

This past week threw a couple of breaks in the weather my way, so I was able to get in some work around the yard.  I particularly wanted to get the first pass with the riding mower done as the grass was already up to my ankles.  I normally mow it at 3.5" - 4" because if I don't, I have an acre and a half of clumps of grass.  Sometimes in the early spring, I even have to cut it twice -- one direction the first time and another direction when I get finished with the first pass.  Takes some time, but at least I get a handle on it early.

I also spent some time with some of the basics -- picking up sticks in the yard, burning them, walking around the pond, working a bit on some of the cattails and pond scum.  Following that, with the sticks in the fire pit burning away, I thought it would be a good idea to "field test" some of the essentials of summer relaxation here by the "waterfront cottage."

So I hauled out the hammock that hangs out by the pond.  I mean, you have to test everything to make sure it is operational and ready for action (so to speak).  Guess what -- it was working fine, so I decided to extend the test drive, maybe even with my eyes closed (just in case I missed something the first time around). 

I was right in the middle of this last test when all of a sudden I heard a huge splash.  It was the kind of splash you would hear if someone were jumping off the dock in the middle of July.  I opened my eyes to see what was the matter and saw a huge hawk just taking off from the surface of the water with a small bass in its talons.  The hawk had just snagged dinner and was taking off .  It looked like a scene from some advertisement for a Rocky Mountain fishing trip or vacation.  Kinda reminded me of the old Hamm's Beer Commercials (am I dating myself?). Anyhow, as the bird flew away, it looked back almost like it was saying "thanks" or "I'll be back sometime."

It was just one of those moments you had to be there to really know what was going on and it was over in just a couple of minutes.  But it was really cool and I was glad to have been able to see it.  I'll try to remember this point when I get out the pole later this spring --

There are two types of fisherman - those who fish for sport and those who fish for fish.  (Author Unknown)

Hooah

A blast from the past...

Last night we had the opportunity to go see the production of The Jersey Boys in Fort Wayne, IN.  This was a Christmas gift from Doug and Danika.  The show was staged at the Embassy Theater, in the downtown area, a place we had never been before and which was quite a nice place.  I really like these old, restored theaters, because they remind me of the Aw Faw Palace once owned by Saddam Hussein.  It was very ornate, very colorful with huge columns along the walls and beautiful ceilings and chandeliers.  The city of Fort Wayne has quite a gem in this, and it is as nice as any I have seen anywhere around the country.

The story of Frankie Valli  and the Four Seasons was good, and knocked around some cobwebs for memories that I had of the things that took place in the 60s and 70s.  I recalled some of the things depicted in the show, and learned some new things -- especially the money issues and the road romances.  Didn't know much about that.  the guys playing the Four Seasons were good in their roles and put forth a very convincing show.

What a great Christmas present. We certainly appreciated it and thank Doug and Danika very much for it.

How's this for a "Selfie" in front of the Embassy Theater?

Oh, yeah, one more thing.  There sure were a lot of people there our age.  As as the guys sang and danced, I looked around and saw lots of people lip syncing and tapping their feet to the music.  I would bet that probably 90% of those in attendance grew up listening to Frankie Valli's music (that's "Valli with an I" as he said in the show), both with and after the Four Seasons, knew all the words to the songs, and probably drove the kinds of cars depicted in the performance.  Even the ones that got "all the way to 8 miles to the gallon."

This was billed as a nostalgic trip down memory lane, and it was. It brought back memories of high school dances, football, and Northside Beach.  It revived memories of cruising up and down Maple Avenue and doing crazy things that might get us arrested today.  Yes, it was nostalgic, I don't deny it and am not ashamed to admit that I missed some of those days and am glad to have lived through them.

Nostalgia -- the lump in your throat, the tear in your eye and the tug at your heart -- doesn't happen when all your memories are bad or dark.  They reflect the happy, carefree, perhaps a bit dangerous times of youth.  And as I have said before, without those nostalgic memories to keep you warm, your winter years can be pretty cold.

Nostalgia is a file that removes the rough edges from the good old days. (Doug Larson)

Hooah

Don't ever give 'em the real reason...

Because you just might show them that you can be a klutz!! 

Yep, That's right -- I had a chance to earn the "Klutz Hall of Fame Award" this past Friday.  I was out trimming some boxwood bushes that had kinda grown out of control around the bedroom windows, and was holding back a branch, attempting to trim one lower down, next to the side of the house.  Well, that was a good idea, but it didn't quite work out.  As I reached down to sever that limb, it was another limb piece that almost got severed.  The blade from the battery operated hedge trimmer hit a branch and I got a "kick back."  I sliced a little segment of my thumb back -- nothing that couldn't be fixed, but just dumb.

I called for my wife to get me some paper towels and I then applied some basic U.S. Army first aid elements -- pressure and elevation. Our next adventure for the night was the emergency room at our local hospital.  For some reason, I happened to pick the same night as a large number of locals who needed some sort of attention.  I was always under the assumption that blood, flowing blood, took precedence in an emergency room.  However, I found out that those rules have changed in the past few years -- hmmmmmmmmmm.  They were all very nice people, but the line-up of things from bug bites received while fishing at the local river to a sprained ankle to a fellow who had the flu have now trumped a bleeder.  After the "triage" was done, we sat in the waiting area (well, actually we walked up and down the hall so as to stay as far away as possible  from the flu guy with the bucket perched under his chin).  This was a full hour.  In the meantime, the rather large collection of paper towels wrapped around my thumb area was getting rather red and soggy.  I remembered from Army training that hand, face and foot wounds are usually heavy bleeders and generally look worse than they really are, so I wasn't getting too worried.

OK.  Now it's down to the emergency room treatment area, where I sat for about another half an hour until they decided I needed to have it x-rayed to make sure I didn't nip a bone or have any foreign matter in there. This went OK until they wanted me to take the paper towels off my hand to get their pictures.  I bled all over the x-ray plates, the table I had to put my hand on, and the floor.  They said everything was OK, and cleaned up the mess.  At this point, the paper towels were completely useless, and they gave me a couple of wet wash clothes.  These worked fine.

Shortly after this, a nurse practitioner came in, took a couple of looks the thumb, and laid out a plan to get it all sewn up and on its way to recovery.  She did a nice job, even with the numbing needle and the stitching.  Only needed five of them.  She said it is better to use fewer than more because it somehow makes it heal faster or better.

Once I got everything cleaned up, I saw that the cut ran down my thumb behind my thumbnail.  Kinda like filleting it.  Not very bad at all, just a bleeder.  Check this out.

All in all, I received very good treatment in the hospital.  It was just a busy night.  My little adventure took just over three hours.  I kinda think this might be the way things are going to be from now on with the present state of insurance.  One thing I did like about that nurse practitioner was she said I should be able to play golf Tuesday in my league.  She wouldn't guarantee any quality of my swing, couldn't guarantee that I wouldn't "feel it" later, and wouldn't write me a note for (sympathy) strokes from my opponents.  But from the looks of her sewing, I think it will be fine. I'm gonna play anyway, so we'll see.

Earlier that day, I spent a couple of hours working with the chain saw, cutting up tree limbs and such.  Given the choice between the two, if I was going to get whacked by something, I would pick the hedge trimmer over the chain saw every time.  I also learned some valuable lessons -- wear my gloves when doing this work, and don't try to cut areas that you cannot see.  Safety rules!

Better a thousand times careful than once sliced. 

Hooah

A REALLY good time in NY...

As you may have seen in an earlier entry, we have a new grand daughter.  Miss Vivian Macy Bennett.

So, here it is, April and we are still kinda wrapped up in a Christmas eve kind of feeling.  Expectations are high as we made our way to Brooklyn to meet her and spend time with the family.  The boys were on spring break so we headed there to give the parents a hand during this week.  It sure was fun getting to meet Miss Vivian.  And even though I know better, I think she took a shine to me.

Of course, I had to share her with "Booma" (what Heath calls Pam). Vivian was a very contented baby and very easy to hold. 

We were there pretty much the whole week, so we got to do quite a bit with the boys.  After spending one of the mornings at the park, we went out to lunch at the local Subway.  Quinn likes their Flatizzas while Heath is pretty much sold on a ham sub on white bread.  It rained a good bit of the day so we didn't get to do much outdoors.

On one of the days, we took the boys to the bowling alley at Ft. Hamilton.  This is not a very big place, but has quite a bit of historical significance in its past. We'll save that for another day.  Today's challenge was to find out if the boys could throw/roll a bowling ball down the alley with sufficient force and speed to knock over any pins.  They accepted the challenge and proved their worth.  Quinn had one strike and two spares in his game.  He was using a ball that was rather light so he was able to bowl in the traditional manner.  Heath, on the other hand, needed considerable help.  I would carry the ball over to this green thing that resembled a dragon's tail.  One would place the ball on the top of it and the "bowler" would proceed to push it from its perch onto the alley and toward the pins.  Heath did quite well for a two-year old.

 We also got to go to the library one afternoon.  Each of the boys picked out a book -- I read one to Heath and Qujinn read his own.  He also picked out a soccer book for his daddy, who is quite into soccer.  And even though Quinn is quite capable of reading his own books, Booma and I (a.k.a. Grandpa) were still given the opportunity to read them a story before bed each night.  I know they will grow out of this, but I hope it isn't any time right away.

Before we got away from there, we were able to get a "family picture."  Each of the boys has his own "picture tolerance" and we just about maxed it on both of them.  Vivian didn't seem to care that much -- at least for now.  She was just satisfied with lying there being her adorable self.

“I’m glad we had the times together just to laugh and sing a song, seems like we just got started and then before you know it, the times we had together were gone.” (Dr. Seus)

Hooah

Wow, what a weekend...

Pam and I were in NY visiting our son and daughter-in-law and our three grandkids last week, and when we left there we decided to swing by Washington DC to see a couple of things.  According to Doris, that sweat-talking voice in my dashboard (a.k.a. the GPS), it was only a 4 1/2 our drive.  Of course, that was based on a normal weekend -- this one just happened to be the opening weekend for the Cherry Blossom Festival.  Oh well, we were already this far East, besides, how bad can the traffic get this early in the morning.

I think the other 300,000 or so people from NY and NJ who decided to visit DC this weekend also had the same thing in mind.  I can't recall ever being in 4 lanes of stop and go traffic for 6 hours.  Yep, the trip turned into a six-hour endurance test.  Oh well, it was a great day and we never really stopped and sat anywhere. One nice thing is you don't pay by the hour on the NJ turnpike -- just by the mile.

I have seen the Cherry Blossoms before.  During my last assignment in the military, I was technically assigned to the Pentagon, so I was there for two years of that.  Fortunately, almost all of my relatives were able to come over for one of them and share my apartment and see this display.  So, having said that, we didn't spend every second down by the tidal basin.  I wanted to get some general pictures for a slide show I plan to do at our Vets to DC pre-trip dinner.  Below are some pictures from that day.

There were a couple of things that struck me as interesting -- it was remarkable how we could sit in one area for 15-30 minutes and not hear any English being spoken.  I first noticed this when I was stationed here a while ago and would come over to the Mall area to watch people and visit the Memorials.  In a way, it is neat how people who speak other languages (and presumably come from other countries to visit DC) can come here and see this city, these memorials to our heroes, and the winners of our freedoms.  I wonder how many English speaking people visit their capital cities.  Just a thought.

Oh, and one other thing that struck me as interesting.  There had to be close to a half-million people there that weekend, and then there was this one horse-mounted policeman.

Oh yeah, one last thing.  And I don't know why I thought this was interesting.  I don't think it was out of place in DC -- just odd and really funny.  There are lots of people who think that this horse_ _ _ _  is all that really comes out of DC anyway.  You can judge for yourself.

As a former teacher and one who studies history, I always look for a "take-away" when I go somewhere.  Visiting DC, I find myself surrounded by competing points, all worthy "take-aways" in their own right.  And when I spend any time at all in the shadows of these Memorials, I feel humbled, tiny in the scope of their magnitude.  Microscopic in the magnitude of the stories and deeds of those honored here.  I always feel uplifted when I leave here, and play over and over in my mind pictures of these places and the stories they tell.  Having said that, I was reminded of this passage from Psalms 2:10-13:

When wisdom enters your heart, and knowledge is pleasant to your soul,
Discretion will preserve you; Understanding will keep you.
To deliver you from the way of evil, From the man who speaks perverse things,
From those who leave the paths of uprightness to walk in the way of darkness.

Hooah