...
I have begun riding my bicycle again. I travel the same 7 mile (+/-) track each day, sucking up nature’s wonders. Pollen is among Nature’s most prolific wonders. I guess sneezing and red, swollen eyes are indicators of good health?
Avid readers will recall it was last year that a Beaver family moved into our nature trail. Within hours, they converted a low-lying acre of plant life into a large, fetid swamp. Let me tell you, there is nothing more natural than a beaver swamp. Well, maybe a convention of skunks would be comparable, but little else.
Recently, I awakened to some odd quacking noises outside my window. Too sleepy to locate my gun, I peered out the window to identify these untimely quackers. Sure enough, a Mallard drake and his floozy hen were paddling about in my creek having a grand time diving for insects and small fish.
“Oh, it’s only ducks,” I told myself falling back into bed. I tried to go back to sleep, but it was no use. The party in the creek was too much.
Eventually, I saddled up for my morning bicycle ride. I zoomed along the trail enjoying the fresh air when I realized there should not be any fresh air in this part of the trail. The beaver swamp was dry.
“Uh, oh,” I thought. A bad feeling came over me and I pedaled for all I was worth toward the place where the creek behind my home empties into the larger stream by the trail. It was just as I feared. No water was flowing from my creek into the larger artery. This could mean only one thing: Beaver trouble.
I should mention here that we measure the “normal” depth of my creek in inches. It is more of a babbling brook, a foot deep in places. Now, I began to put the cheese and quackers together and they did not add up.
When I got home, I staggered down to the creek side. Sure enough, we now have several duck-entertaining feet of water where before there was barely enough to hatch mosquitoes. If it turns out ducks eat mosquitoes, this could work out. Otherwise, I may have to resurrect some ancient skills and remove the dam before the air becomes unbreathable. [BOOM!]
Monday, March 21, 2011
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Sophia Turns Four
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It was Saturday a week ago that the family swarmed into the Chuck E. Cheese restaurant near my daughter’s home. The place was jammed with every imaginable electronic game, game of chance, game of skill and things to climb. There were 300 or 400 children in various stages of going berserk.
A waiter brought every kind of pizza that can be made on cardboard for our enjoyment while the children, pockets stuffed with tokens, raced from one adventure to the next.
All went well until about an hour into the festivities. It was “present opening time” and August, my 3-year-old grandson, was nowhere to be found. His parents showed reserve as they sprinted from place to place, at random, in search of their son. Since I am more experienced, I kept a cool head. I knew if desperadoes had taken Augie, they would let him out of the getaway car at the curb in front of the restaurant within the hour. He is a handful that you could not trade for a million dollars. I know. I have tried.
Feeling left out, I began a slow, methodical search of the gaming complex. Eventually, I passed a racecar game for two players. The two seats had high backs, so anyone under five feet tall would not be visible from behind. Augie was one of the players. He was out of tokens, so he was playing the “demo,” over and over again.
In time, I caught the eye of his over-stressed father and pointed down at the seat in front of me. Augie is anything but tall. My son rushed over and peered over the seat. I watched as he deflated and his BP returned to triple over double digits. He leaned on the seat a while as Augie continued playing. Once his composure returned, he said, “Thanks for turning up, son.”
We opened presents, sang the birthday song and ate cake, but relief vacuumed up the party spirit out of at least two adults well before the singing began.
It was Saturday a week ago that the family swarmed into the Chuck E. Cheese restaurant near my daughter’s home. The place was jammed with every imaginable electronic game, game of chance, game of skill and things to climb. There were 300 or 400 children in various stages of going berserk.
A waiter brought every kind of pizza that can be made on cardboard for our enjoyment while the children, pockets stuffed with tokens, raced from one adventure to the next.
All went well until about an hour into the festivities. It was “present opening time” and August, my 3-year-old grandson, was nowhere to be found. His parents showed reserve as they sprinted from place to place, at random, in search of their son. Since I am more experienced, I kept a cool head. I knew if desperadoes had taken Augie, they would let him out of the getaway car at the curb in front of the restaurant within the hour. He is a handful that you could not trade for a million dollars. I know. I have tried.
Feeling left out, I began a slow, methodical search of the gaming complex. Eventually, I passed a racecar game for two players. The two seats had high backs, so anyone under five feet tall would not be visible from behind. Augie was one of the players. He was out of tokens, so he was playing the “demo,” over and over again.
In time, I caught the eye of his over-stressed father and pointed down at the seat in front of me. Augie is anything but tall. My son rushed over and peered over the seat. I watched as he deflated and his BP returned to triple over double digits. He leaned on the seat a while as Augie continued playing. Once his composure returned, he said, “Thanks for turning up, son.”
We opened presents, sang the birthday song and ate cake, but relief vacuumed up the party spirit out of at least two adults well before the singing began.
Difference between Grandpas and Grandmas
…
This will bring a tear to your eyes and warm the cockles of your hearts.
Have you ever wondered what the difference is between Grandmothers and Grandfathers? Well, here it is:
There was this loving grandfather who always made a special effort to spend time with his son's family on weekends. Every Saturday morning he would take his 7-year-old granddaughter out for a drive in the car for some quality time -- just him and his granddaughter.
One particular Saturday, however, he had a bad cold and really did not feel like being up at all. He knew his granddaughter always looked forward to their drives and would be disappointed. Luckily, his wife came to the rescue and said that she would take their granddaughter for the drive.
When they returned, the little girl anxiously ran upstairs to see her grandfather who was still in bed. "Well, did you enjoy your ride with grandma?" he asked. "Oh, yes, Granddad, it was really wonderful. We didn't see a single asshole, blind bastard, dipshit or son of a bitch anywhere we went!"
Almost brings a tear to your eye, doesn't it?
PS: Mark all hate mail to the attention of Ray K. I’ll see that he gets it.
H.
…
This will bring a tear to your eyes and warm the cockles of your hearts.
Have you ever wondered what the difference is between Grandmothers and Grandfathers? Well, here it is:
There was this loving grandfather who always made a special effort to spend time with his son's family on weekends. Every Saturday morning he would take his 7-year-old granddaughter out for a drive in the car for some quality time -- just him and his granddaughter.
One particular Saturday, however, he had a bad cold and really did not feel like being up at all. He knew his granddaughter always looked forward to their drives and would be disappointed. Luckily, his wife came to the rescue and said that she would take their granddaughter for the drive.
When they returned, the little girl anxiously ran upstairs to see her grandfather who was still in bed. "Well, did you enjoy your ride with grandma?" he asked. "Oh, yes, Granddad, it was really wonderful. We didn't see a single asshole, blind bastard, dipshit or son of a bitch anywhere we went!"
Almost brings a tear to your eye, doesn't it?
PS: Mark all hate mail to the attention of Ray K. I’ll see that he gets it.
H.
…
The Grandmother Saga
...
My mother, a grandmother four times and great grandmother to 10, I think, is resting comfortably in the nursing home.
My Dad used to describe people in her condition as being in “bad shape.” That is appropriate here. She has depleted her reserves of energy for recuperation and strengthening.
The kind staff at the nursing home will keep her comfortable as long as necessary and I will send my dark suit and black tie to the cleaners this week, just as I did when my Dad used to tell me others were in bad shape.
Eighty-seven is a good long life by any measure except those who might be 85 or 86 and enjoying their life.
...
My mother, a grandmother four times and great grandmother to 10, I think, is resting comfortably in the nursing home.
My Dad used to describe people in her condition as being in “bad shape.” That is appropriate here. She has depleted her reserves of energy for recuperation and strengthening.
The kind staff at the nursing home will keep her comfortable as long as necessary and I will send my dark suit and black tie to the cleaners this week, just as I did when my Dad used to tell me others were in bad shape.
Eighty-seven is a good long life by any measure except those who might be 85 or 86 and enjoying their life.
...
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Mother 1 - Reaper 0
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After three days in critical care, the hospital discharged my Mom to return to rehabilitation. That long list of serious ailments melted away due to the vigorous assault of modern medicine and fervent prayer.
She is not 100% as capable as she was. She has a new swallowing problem, probably the result of that last stroke. There is a strategy for dealing with this, so she can return to her occupational and physical therapy. Cautious optimism replaced despair, at least for the near term.
I am good with that. The recent excitement has been an emotional roller coaster for us all. I believe I shall celebrate Mom’s good fortune by having a brisk lie down in the afternoon.
The family and I are grateful for your expressions of concern and caring and especially the prayers. God bless you.
Hank & tribe.
…
After three days in critical care, the hospital discharged my Mom to return to rehabilitation. That long list of serious ailments melted away due to the vigorous assault of modern medicine and fervent prayer.
She is not 100% as capable as she was. She has a new swallowing problem, probably the result of that last stroke. There is a strategy for dealing with this, so she can return to her occupational and physical therapy. Cautious optimism replaced despair, at least for the near term.
I am good with that. The recent excitement has been an emotional roller coaster for us all. I believe I shall celebrate Mom’s good fortune by having a brisk lie down in the afternoon.
The family and I are grateful for your expressions of concern and caring and especially the prayers. God bless you.
Hank & tribe.
…
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