My thoughts

Cuss - omer Service

2012-01-06T04:52:00.000-06:00

A couple of days ago, one of our satellite receiver boxes shot craps. The Warden said she would try to call that afternoon if I could find the customer service number. I said I would do it when I got home because they would PROBABLY ask a few "technical" questions she wouldn't be able to answer. So upon my return from work, and I came home early, I set about the task of rectifying the problem. My first clue to what was going to be a long evening was finding the toll free customer service number ....

1-800-SAY-WHAT

After dialing the numbers I awaited for the usual "dial 1 for English" which I quickly dialed. (Another thing, when the automated voice talking to you has a heavy accent, you know you are in trouble!)

"Pleese lissstn to the falling menu su ve can direction you call"

"tooch one to assess you account"

"tooch two for act-a-vation"

"tooch tree for pograming"

"tooch pour for tech-na-cal help"

I selected pour ..... er .... I mean four.

"You call izz now being dirctioned to you servace rep-re-senive"

"You call vill be ansrewed in zee odor it was cvied"

Instantly back ground music began to play along with recorded reassurances that "all cuss-mor rep-re-senives" were helping other customers and I would be helped in "odor". The background music was somewhere in between what would be heard at a Chinese New Year party and Rap.

Finally the voice of a female, "My name is Ming Ling, how will I help you?"

"My reciever box shot craps this morning" I said, not thinking about how the slang along with the language barrier was going to slow the translation.

"Shoot who?" Ming Ling asked, "you shoot ciever box?"

"No no I mean the ciever .. er .... reciever box no longer works."

"Did you use power button on the mote or on the ciever box?" she ask. I guess the prefix "re" was hard for her to say!

"I've tried both" I replied, "and neither worked".

"Have you tied the power button on ciever box?"

"Yes ma'am" I reaffirmed, thinking I should just answer the individual questions and not offer anymore statements.

"Is ciever box plugged in?"

"Yes ma'am. And I have checked, the electrical outlet is fine. The reciever box will NOT power up!"

"K. I will send you a placement for it. Can you give me the moodel number on the front of ceiver box?"

"Yes it is V-B-3-2-1" I said slowly.

"B-B-tree-two-one" she repeated.

"No" I clarified, "V as in volume. B as in boy. 321"

"Yes. B as in bolume. B as in boy. Tree 2 1".

"Yes. Ok. You got it!"

"I vill autorize a new ciever box to be shipped to you. You should cieve it in tree or pour business days".

"Thanks" I said relieved.

So now it's a "wait and see" if the ceiver box is a B B tree 2 1 or not!

Dennis

Stockman discussions

2011-01-28T19:33:00.000-06:00

One never knows what subjects will be brought forth over coffee each morning at the Stockman. Most of the time it contains the weather, very often the markets and like as not something will be brought up concerning politics. There will most likely be discussions about "remember when" or "what was that guy's name" based on foggy memories.

But on occasion, serious discussions between life long friends arise, which is what happened this morning.

Chester had sat rather quiet, sipping his morning coffee and appeared listening to the morning palaver but didn't offer his normal retorts. Clyde, noticing his friends unusual inconversable silence, ask "Something bothering you Chester?"

"Well" Chester began, "Cleta and I've been having a few words lately. Just kinda got me thinking."

"What kind of words?" Clyde asked with true concern for his long time friend.

"Cleta says I've lost all my romanticism. She says I no longer look at her the way I use to" Chester explained. "She says I never bring her flowers anymore or take her out to eat or things like that. She says I need to be more like Clem. Clem gives his wife a kiss every morning before going out to chore. Clyde, do you do that?"

Clyde looked real thoughtful, took another sip of his coffee and said, "Well Chester, I really don't know Clem's wife well enough to give her a kiss every morning."

I guess now we know why Clyde is a rancher and not a marriage counselor.

Dennis

Joe the Plumber

2010-09-06T06:02:00.001-05:00

The Good Lord made me a feed salesman for one good reason: I can't do much else! However, He didn't take the "I can fix that" statement out of my reparative thinking.

Hence, when the Warden discovered a leaking water heater Friday night, I said "No problem! I can fix that. I'll just run to Lowe's tomorrow morning and pick up what I need!"

She gave me the "over the glasses" look, "Don't you think we should just call a plumber?"

"Heavens no! You'll never get one out on Labor Day weekend!" I said, "and if you did ... it would cost you and arm and leg!"

Again I got the "over the glasses" look, "How long will this take?"

"After I get the water heater and stuff back from Lowe's ... couple hours MAX!"

Again I got the "over the glasses" look ... then a defeated shrug and sigh.

So Saturday morning, with mental picture of the old heater in my mind ..... I headed to Lowe's. I picked out the heater, grabbed the fittings needed to plumb it in, extra pipe ... I stood there for a few minuets, mentally assembling it in my mind. Reassessing all the tools and procedures I would need. Done. I headed to the checkout .... used my trusty Discover Card .... and out the door I went. Home by noon-thirty! Plenty of time to finish.

The Warden had a nice lunch prepared when I got home so I could "get right to work". But I convinced her that I had plenty of time and needed a little rest before starting. "I need to let lunch settle" I said.

The over the glasses look, "OK" was her reply.

She woke me later with the question, "do you want me to help you with the heater?"

"Sure! You can come watch." And with that we headed out to the back porch to open the water heater compartment. I stood there with fittings, pipe wrench and saws-all in hand looking at the defective appliance. The fittings in my hand did indeed fit the NEW water heater, but would not match to the old plumbing.

Again I got the "over the glasses" look. "Problem?"

It's time right here to say, the world would be a much easier place to live if there weren't different sizes!

So I'm still in hot water ... oops I mean cold! Does anyone have the phone number of Joe the Plumber?

Dennis

The Perils of Store Bought Teeth

2010-08-24T04:14:00.001-05:00

Well I'm just about 5 weeks into my quest of controlling my dentures .... and learning the do's and don'ts. If some one had just told me .... back when I still had teeth ... to "practice" eating with two large marbles in my mouth ... the switch to dentures wouldn't have been a big deal! The first meal I ate after getting my teeth was a total disaster ... tortilla chips are a "don't" at least at this time ... unless of course the person setting close to you doesn't mind you washing them off in the tea glass!

Another "don't" is candy ... especially caramel! That stuff is like "anti-poly grip"! Took me two days to get my dentures unstuck.

Getting your mouth used to the dentures is sort of like getting a new pair of boots. They can fit good but your feet get "tired" and it feels good to take them off and just rub your feet. Same thing with dentures .... and thus at night they were put into the denture cup. My dad, a denture veteran of nearly 50 years, suggested to me that keeping them in at night would hasten my quest of getting use to them ... so I left them in the other night.

Sometime in the middle of the night I got the bottom plate turned sideways. This of course woke me when I bite down ... I took them out and laid them on my chest, letting my tongue massage the gum. I was planning on putting them back in before going to sleep, but I dozed off. When I awoke sometime later, my teeth were gone!

Well I felt all around in the dark between the covers, between the sheets, under the quilt, even felt off the side of the bed on the floor .... nothing! So, not wanting to waken the Warden, I found a flash light and and begin looking in the same places. Finally I woke the Warden thinking maybe she was laying on them ... I won't repeat here the conversation that took place at this time because this is a family friendly site ... just suffice to say she wasn't pleased.

With the lights now turned on I was able to find my teeth ... in the next room! I guess the cat, who normally sleeps at the foot of the bed, found her a new play toy. I'm just glad she didn't take them to the litter box. Needless to say, I don't sleep with them any more ... they stay in the denture cup at night!

Another thing to keep in mind ... never lay the tubes of poly-grip and preparation H close to each other on the bathroom counter ... no matter which one is improperly used ... it makes for a bad day!

Dennis

Sitting on the back porch.

2010-07-27T21:39:00.000-05:00

There is little in life more enjoyable than "sittin' on the back porch" just enjoying life. The hot temperatures of the day are dwindling; the frustrations of the day are gone; all that's left is the cool southern breeze and the humming bird feeder to watch.

That's what caused me to realize a "fact of life". Humming birds are territorial, meaning that certain ones think that the feeder is their own and no one else can "feed" from it. I have sit for the last two hours watching a (presumably) male humming bird run off any other humming bird from this feeder. This makes me realize how "territorial" some humans are. Although I KNOW that I won't let the feeder go dry, he doesn't. We, as humans, are much the same way.

This humming bird sits on a high line about 25 feet from the feeder. If any other humming bird comes close he will dart in and chase it away! It has been hilarious to watch and the humming bird has had little time to rest.

Sound familiar?

We as "humans" spend most of our lives worried about things that never happen or never come true. We chase after anything that comes close to our space and complain about anything that even looks our way.

Maybe it would be best, if at times, we would just sit back and enjoy life.
Dennis
Sent from my Blackberry

Weight Watching With The Warden

2010-07-18T04:50:00.000-05:00

Several weeks back, the Warden and a teacher friend of hers decided it was time to get serious about losing the extra pounds. Now the Warden wasn't a BIG woman, but she wasn't the 106 pound bride I married either. (She looked a little anorexic back then!) But none the less, with the current size dresses beginning to stretch to the limit .... she vowed to get back into the smaller size dresses she had in the back of the closet.

She and her friend have been diligent in attending the meetings, counting the points on a daily basis and increasing the exercise routine. And, I must say, the results are becoming noticeable ... even to the casual observer. Even some of the other staff members have joined in with diet plans of their own and "weight loss fever" has spread through out the community.

The subject has even become the main topic at the Stockman now ... although not in the same light. As Clem took his first sip the other day, he said "Pass me one of those donuts. I have got to have something sweet."

"Claire got you on a diet too?" asked Clyde. "Cleta came home the other day and announced 'WE are going to loose weight'. And she hasn't cooked anything edible since!"

"I was checking the fridge for a snack yesterday," Clem continued, "you'd think it was ole mother Hubbard's cupboard! Nothing there but carrot sticks!"

"Yeah, it's getting pretty bad," Clyde said as he passed the last donut to Clem, "when a week old donut is considered a delicacy!"

Then they both looked at me, seriousness written in their expression. Clem stated, "I'll buy your gas if you'll run up to Peoria and bring us a box of the danishes from Carl's!"

Clyde added, "And I'll kick in another $50 if you'll get back here by tomorrow morning's coffee!"

Store bought teeth

2010-07-15T04:08:00.000-05:00

Yesterday was the culmination of a seven month ordeal. It started back in January when I had two front teeth on the lower jaw abscess on me. As usual, the pain begin to increase to the unbearable category by late Friday evening. Our daughter, who works for a dentist, was able to get ahold of her boss and get some prescription antibiotics before the pharmacy closed. And she set me up with a dental appointment for the following Tuesday.

Saturday I set all day in pain, vowing I would pull the teeth myself if I had a good set of pliers. Sunday morning the abscess begin to drain, greatly relieving the pain. By Monday, with pain and swelling all gone I decided there was no use going to the dentist ... however I was out voted by the Warden... and the teeth were extracted.

Now, with my smile looking like a picket fence, options were examined to remedy the problem, procedures explained, processes discussed and alternatives analyzed. It came down to two reasonable solutions:
option 1) over the next 2 years, insert some bridges, crown some molars and a root canal or two.
option 2) Store bought teeth by August 1.

I took option number two and on May 20 (the Warden and I's 38th anniversary) I had the left side teeth extracted. We vowed to put off the steak supper to another time. Two weeks later the right side was extracted and I had exactly 6 upper front teeth left. Eating anything with a "crunch" was becoming impossible. If it didn't fit through a straw it would be an all day job getting it munched up enough to swallow.

I went in the last of June to have a "molding" made. Then a dry run to check out the trial model and pick out the color. Everything was ready to go ... so yesterday doc pulled the remaining 6 top front teeth and put in my nice white store boughts!! Now when I smile, they are white and even! Only time in my life I have looked in the mirror and seen an even smile.

As I set here this morning, I can think of only one draw back to this new set ... I ain't had a dip of snuff since yesterday noon!
Dennis

The Perlows

2010-07-10T05:45:00.000-05:00

I've had the pleasure of knowing Arno and Cherie for several years now via the Internet. Actually I think I can blame my being on Facebook specifically on Arno ... I should have known not to trust a weatherman!

Arno is a retired weatherman from NOAA and has taken my joking about weathermen very well. Since his retirement he has pursued his "hobby" (or at least that is what he used to call it) of web page development. His own home page is full of interesting family facts and pictures.

Cherie spent most of her career days as a stewardess ... I guess they are flight attendants now days. Arno says she was a "natural" for that job since she's always up in the air over something!! Cherie is also a therapeutic masseuse now and works part time somewhere in STL. (And after eating breakfast there last week, she could be a chef!)

Actually, with their picturesque home, their genuine hospitality and the good eats ... they need to start a bed and breakfast!!

In their spar time Cherie pursues stage acting and art; Arno plays soccer and runs marathons. Actually our friendship is a little strange when you get to thinking about it, they're city people who have traveled the world and current in the arts and culture. I'm a country boy who has never traveled out of the Midwest and counts drinking coffee at the Stockman as a cultural experience.

We do have one BIG thing in common .... a love for our family and grand kids.

Thanks again Arno and Cherie for the hospitality and the very delicious breakfast. Your turn to come to KS!
Dennis

Carl's Bakery

2010-07-08T04:52:00.000-05:00

If you ever travel through the East Peoria, IL area ... and it's sometime between 5:30 AM and 2:00 PM ... it would behoove you to stop in at Carl's Bakery. Just ask directions to "The Rooster".

They make excellent donuts there ... but ordering a donut there is like ordering a hamburger at a steak house! They have every type of roll, pastry and sweet bread known to man. As a matter of fact, that's the tough part ... figuring out which to buy when they all look and are ... delicious! So do as I do ... ask for a box and take one of each!

As a matter of fact ... part of the fun of eating there is watching people approach the counter and select the "one" they want!

"Give me a cinnamon twist .. no no, make it a cream cheese danish ..... wait is that apricot? What's that over there? Cream filled long john ... yeah that's what I want. No. Wait .... just get me a box and put one of each in there. Oh and one donut to eat on my way to work!"

And while you're setting there savouring your sweet selected morsel (assuming you were able to make a single selection) ... here comes Carla with another tray ... fresh from the oven!

So if you're planning on just eating one ... best get it to go!

Carla's dad (Carl) opened the place over 50 years ago. She told me she started helping her dad there when she was 8 years old. Her and her husband have operated the bakery for several years. They're up every morning around 2:30 AM ... start cooking at 3:00 AM so they have things ready by 5:30.

Their bakery will be featured sometime in the next few weeks on the Food Channel.

Oh ... and if you have to make only ONE selection ... let me offer MY choice ... it's the cream cheese danish ... no wait, the apple fritter ..... or maybe the ....

Dennis

Riverside Hunting Bait & Tackle

2010-07-02T05:09:00.002-05:00

Yesterday morning, Ruth and I were again fishing at Powerton Lake, when as fate would have it, we ran out of worms for fish bait. (OK Sandra, I could have used the fish we were catching as bait, but just wouldn't be the same.) Anyway, I decided to make a fast trip to Riverside Hunting Bait and Tackle which was just down the road. I had already mentioned, as we drove past it that morning, we should stop in there just to see what he had.

The man has everything a guy would need! Live bait, artificial lures, bobbers, sinkers, poles - - you name it! And he's an interesting sort of a guy - - pleasant, large framed, fairly young (35+/-) and a gift of gab.

I picked up a couple "necessary" fishing items and made my way to counter, knowing that the worms I came for would be in the refrigerated case behind him. I looked him over and figured he was "once removed" from the hills or swamps.

"I need a couple dozen of those worms you got there." I said pointing to the case behind him, "Nice place you have here."

"Thanks" was his reply, "I'm third generation. My grandad opened it. My dad ran it for 30 years and now me."

OK, so my "once removed" had now turned into "twice removed" - - but I knew I was still pretty close.

"Fish biting?" he asked.

"Just the little ones," I replied. "I'm here visiting my daughter and we both like to fish. Not real sure where to go."

"Fishing is usually good on Powerton, but with the high water, might be sort of slow. Where you from?" he asked.

"Kansas."

"That's where my brother is. He's in the Air Force" he replied. I nodded in acquiescence and he continued, "he's a weapons specialist. A double PHD in Bio-Chemistry and Propulsion something or other."

I now looked at him a little wide-eyed and my head cocked somewhat - - an obvious question showing on my face.

He continued, "He took after the brainy side of the family. My mom's a cancer doctor in Peoria."

The question could no longer be contained, "What happened to you?"

He laughed, "Well I was a US Marshall for 12 years and loved it to start, but after 911 the travel got horrendous. Dad said he was going to retire so I came back to run this."

So, goes to show you, you can't judge a book by looking at it's cover.

Gateway to the West - Repeated (almost)

2010-06-27T05:32:00.000-05:00

To understand the title of this blog, one must be familiar with a former blog ... actually there are several blogs concerning my travels through STL ... but the similarities to Gateway to the West are astounding! However there are four major differences:

I now know where the MLK Bridge is.
The River Front Road being flooded by the Mississippi
My TomTom doesn't do well with detour signs and flooded roads.
The Warden spotted the sign to "The Arch parking garage"

Each year the Warden and I look forward to visiting Baby Ruth, (our youngest daughter ... not the candy bar) and traveling the 600 miles to see her. The only dreaded obstacle is ST. Louis! I think the MDOT and STL city fathers even plan for my July trip by figuring new places for construction and detour signs to highten my summer excursion experience. I figure they look at it much as a scientist does who puts a lab rat in a changeable maze to see how long it takes for the rat to get the cheese! And (there is no doubt in my mind) had the STL city council and the MDOT been around, in 1803, there wouldn't have been any way Lewis and Clark could have found their way up the Missouri River!

The Warden has said ... without exception each year as we crossed "the bridge" ... someday we need to stop and see the Arch. This has been easily brushed off each trip because of the blaring horns, screeching tires and my audible praying as I weed my way through the STL traffic. I just say I can't get to the exit or that I didn't hear her in time. But as fate would have it ..... yesterday, having taken the route laid out by my trusty TomTom ..... we sit staring at the flooded road ahead of us and just to our right was the entrance to the parking garage ... there was no getting out of this one!

As we made our way down the walkway to the Arch, I read a sign that said over 2,000,000 people visit the Arch every year.... this really wasn't news to me ... I figure most were just asking directions of how to get across the bridge! But it was a well manicured park with LOTS of people there .... and the Park Ranger even knows the fastest way to get to the MLK bridge!

While there we did get to take a few pictures of the Warden. I posted them on my facebook mobile page. And a picture of me with some people who wanted to promote green energy and opposed more drilling for oil. They seemed pleased that I wanted a picture with them holding up their signs. Their mannerism changed however when I told them I was against ethanol, windmills and wanted to drill on the Anwar tundra! (I made a fast get-a-way when they started yelling for the Park Ranger!)

But I figure the picture will make some good discussion at the Stockman next week when I get home.

And Arno ... someday I am gonna stop in your hometown for a visit with you and Cherie ... heck, if you lived close to "the bridge" .... I'd probably see you every year!!!!!!!!!!

The older we get

2010-03-14T20:13:00.000-05:00

Back as a young man, (not too many years ago) I used to drink a big glass of water around 9 PM each evening. This was like setting an alarm clock for 5 AM or even better because it didn't have snooze settings! As you well know how habits work and still to this day I do the same thing.

However things have changed. Last night as we "retired" the Warden asked, "Did you have your Dr. Pepper yet"?

"I don't drink Dr. Pepper!" I remitted.

"You have most every night of our married life" she retorted.

"What in the world are you talking about?" I was beginning to think she had lost the last of her mind.

"Well, I guess you're right," she explained. "When we were younger you drank water, now it's Dr. Pepper because you're up at 10 PM, 2 AM and 4 AM!"

Then if that wasn't degrading enough .... SHE LAUGHED!

Fall Colors

2009-10-09T18:03:00.006-05:00

The other day, a very beautiful fall day, I did take a few moments while driving the roads of KS to observe fall flowers. They are different from spring flowers in that they sit on a higher stem, mostly perennials but none the less full of color as the flowers that blossom with spring. (Wildflowers)

I hope you enjoy the pictures.

No matter of the time, the day or the politics .... if one stops to look .... even in the bar-ditches of a dusty road ... God provides some beauty. One merely has to stop to look at it.

Dennis

The Cyclist

2009-10-05T19:02:00.001-05:00

A few days ago, some foreign cyclist passing through Cambridge stopped at the stockman to (assumedly) ask directions. The cyclist walked in and the linguistic exchange went something like this.

"Entschuldigung, koennen Sie Deutsch sprechen?" one asked.

There were blank stares around the room. Silence (which is not normal in the Stockman) prevailed.

The cyclist continued, "Excusez-moi, parlez vous Fracais?"

All around was totally silent.

"Hablan ustedes Espanol?" asked the cyclist.

He received nothing other than shrugs.

With one last attempt, the cyclist ask, "Parlare Italiano?"

Again the request was met with shrugs and blank stares. The cyclist left and there was silence for a few minutes. Clem then commented to Chester, "Maybe we should learn a foreign language."

"Why?" was Chester's retort, "He knew 4 languages and none of them helped him out!"

Dennis

Priceless

2009-07-28T15:08:00.001-05:00

Gas for a 600 mile trip: $75.00
Fishing tackle and bait: $25.00
Out of state license: $15.00

Spending all day fishing with your youngest daughter:

Priceless.

Sent from my Blackberry
Dennis

Cap and Trade

2009-06-27T17:56:00.001-05:00

It's been a while since I wrote a blog ... and part because I knew all I would do was rant and rave about current politics. But I guess it's time to blow a little steam with the simplicity of the Stockman's understanding of current events.

As most of you know, our House of Representatives passed the "Cap and Trade" bill yesterday ... without reading it. It has been rammed down our throats. Here's how it went down at the Stockman. Keep in mind these are not Harvard graduates with the eloquence of speech of the "élite". Just down to earth, hard working, truthful men who don't sleep if they owe you money.

Clem entered the cafe, took his cup of coffee and asked as he took the first sip, "What's this 'cap and trade' thing they're talking about?"

Chester, the resident current event guru, began trying to explain, "That's where the government will tax carbon emissions over a certain level."

"Who sets the standards?" inquired Clem.

"The government" Chester answered.

"The same government that didn't read the proposed bill?" Clem asked.

"Yep. Same one" Chester declared.

"How would that affect us?" Clem needed further explanation.

"Well let me put it in cowboy terms" Chester offered. "Are you going to feed your steers in my feedlot again this year?"

"Sure." came the reply.

"Well let's say the government decides that for each steer in my feedlot, I am allowed 10 lbs of manure." Chester started his explanation.

"That'd be one miserable bunch of steers!" laughed Clem.

"Well, since it's my feedlot, I have to scrape the excess manure off and take it to Clyde's wheat field because his wheat doesn't produce any manure." Chester continued his explanation.

"That'd be pretty expensive to you." Clem said a little concerned for his partner.

"Not really" Chester said.

"You mean you'd charge Clyde for the manure?" Clem asked.

"No" Chester continued, "I'd pay him to take it."

"Wait a minute," said a surprised Clem, "Who's paying for this?"

"You are." said Chester pointing at a wide-eyed Clem "Because I am going to raise the fees on your yardage."

"That's a bunch of S*@T!" exclaimed Clem.

"Now you understand 'Cap and Trade'" said Chester.

Dennis

Spring time in KS

2009-04-12T07:30:00.002-05:00

You can easily tell it's spring in KS when the calves run in playful glee, ranchers begin to burn their pastures and storm chaser vehicles cause traffic jams on normally vacant roads. The temperature begins to soar, bringing with it spring fever and cold fronts. The warm days begin to heat the moist air which rises in the cold upper atmosphere, cumulous clouds build generating tremendous updrafts, then as they cool fall with tremendous force back to the earth, tornado sirens blare, radios break from programming to give warnings and storm chasers hit the roads.

Since mid March I've had to wear two hats; a straw hat on days that would reach near 80 and my bald head would sweat or a ball cap with ear muffs on those days the wind howled from the north and chill factors fell below freezing. One day you talk to a rancher about the need for a summer mineral program to help reduce heat stress and the next day you're selling him feed to warm the cattle during cold blizzardy weather.

Fruit trees begin to blossom, their limbs covered in pink or white blooms only to droop and break the next week under a load of ice. Wild flowers open their buds in a variety of colors only to turn black the next morning because of a heavy frost. Farmers get antsy with soaring temperatures and begin to plant their crops only to watch the fields set vacant of emergence for two or three weeks as returning cold, cools the ground temperature below germination levels.

Dang, I sure love living in Kansas.

Dennis

Yep, I'm still kickin'

2009-03-20T04:15:00.001-05:00

To those of you that have written wondering about my demise .... and to those of you who have wished for it ... I'm still kickin'. I just haven't had a thought to put down worthy of the bandwidth it'd take to publish it. And there was plenty of subject matter in the political world to select from.

I've even started a few with thoughts gleaned from conversations with Clem, Clyde and Chester about the bailouts, spreading the wealth around or cap and trade. However, when I censored the language it was always the same, "that's a bunch of bull s*@#". I could have published a few blogs on what the Stockman coffee crew would like to do to some select members of the administration and/or congress ..... but I'm sure we would have ended up on some Homeland Security watch list.

So I have refrained myself from the keyboard and kept my Blackberry in my pocket. However I guess I can pass on this that happened yesterday.

I was down in the Osage, chasing any rancher that might need one more load of feed or looking for new ones I hadn't met yet. The weather had changed from the spring like sunshine of the weekend to a dull chill aggravated by a very sharp and blustery north wind.

A strange pickup with a cake box was pulling out of a pasture ahead of me. I stopped to meet this new potential as the older small framed rancher was closing the gate. He was fully bundled up in carhart coveralls, a stocking cap underneath a weather beaten hat and sunglasses fitted to a weather beaten face.

"A feed salesman just can't pass a guy with a cake box on his pickup and not stop to introduce himself," I said handing the weathered old rancher my business card. The statement was met with a smile and I knew I had at least a couple minutes to forge a friendship.

I turned up the collar on my jacket as a gust of cold wind howled through the trees. "Dang!" I continued, "I was just getting used to that warmer weather where if you stopped along the road to take a leak, you didn't have to go through 13 layers of clothes to reach it!"

Again I saw the weathered smile from behind the sunglasses and I could feel the friendship building.

"Sir," I said extending my hand into a firm handshake, "I don't guess I've ever met you."

"Dennis is my name" I said, firmly griping the extended hand.

But my hand went limp as SHE said "Peggy"

I guess the commission check will be a bit smaller this pay period.

Dennis

Valentines Day

2009-02-08T06:25:00.001-06:00

With only a week till Valentines Day, the subject of wives came up at the Stockman. Now since none of us there are "newly weds" we are well versed in our respective wives wishes. I mentioned, for instance, I was taking the Warden to a "Sweetheart banquet".

"Well my Claire always wants a real pretty card," Clem stated. "So the other day when she and I went to Wal-Mart, I looked over the selection. Do you know some of them now cost $5.00?"

"Did you get her one?" asked Clyde.

"Not with the cattle market the way it is" Clem answered. "But I did pick a real nice one out and let her read it while we were there!"

"I was reading the High Plains Journal the other day," Clyde said. "There was a real nice poem in there to farm wives, so I cut it out and will save it to give Cletta on Valentines Day. She'll like that."

"Yeah," injected Chester, "my Chloe read that poem in the High Pains too. She said if I was real romantic, I'd write her a poem like that, so I wrote one for her."

"You wrote a poem?" asked a surprised Clyde.

"Yep" nodded Chester.

"Let's hear it" chided Clem.

"Roses are red, violets are purple. You're as sweet as maple syruple" Chester replied. Then continued, "When the cows are grazing pastures green. I'm reminded of Chloe Dean."

Chester cocked his head trying to remember the next verse, "Their coats bright and shiny, their eyes open wide. Reminds me of you, when you're at my side."

"And when they turn to walk away, I'm reminded of how you sway."

Chester started the next verse but Clem started laughing.

"Wait, I can't take anymore" Clem stated through raucous laughter. "You're going to compare Chloe to a cow? My friend, it's been nice knowing ya!"

Dennis

The Stockman 01-28-09

2009-01-29T04:54:00.002-06:00

We had an arctic blast early in the week causing icy roads, school and business closings. As it moved off to the east Tuesday night, skies cleared of clouds and allowed the temperature to plummet even lower nearing the 0 mark. Only the die-hards made it to the Stockman for morning coffee.

Since the Stockman officially closed several months ago as an "eatery", the only heat is provided by two small electric heaters (on the face of one is a thermometer). And in weather like we have been having, drinking morning coffee at the Stockman is akin to being a member of the Coney Island Polar Bear Club .... with the exception that we wear insulated coveralls, Elmer Fudd hats and flaps and drink our coffee with gloved hands.

The conversations are in general, the same topics as summer, except for the weather conditions. This time of year calving is just beginning and there are multiple stories of saving a calf in sub freezing temperatures as the "old rip of a cow" (other expletives are sometimes used) try's to run you over.

Politics are also often discussed, as they were yesterday morning. Chester, who had been rather quiet when he first came in, suddenly slapped the table with a gloved hand and said, "I'm not giving up without a fight!"

Clyde gave a sideward glance at him with a raised eyebrow, "What in the world are you talking about?"

"They can tax me, make me wear seat belts and prevent me from spitting tobacco juice on the sidewalk. But I'll be hanged before they take my morning coffee away at the Stockman!" replied Chester.

Now with both eyebrows raised Clyde simply said "Huh?"

"Al Gore is trying to shut us down!" was Chester's matter-of-fact reply.

"What?" asked Clyde with a befuddled look on his face.

"Well Al Gore is speaking before some Senate committee today about global warming and the need to offset some carbon emissions. And you KNOW that every time he speaks it gets colder. Look at that room temperature in here this morning!" Chester said pointing at the thermometer.

Dennis

The Saga of the Coffeehouse (Cafe')

2009-01-17T05:32:00.002-06:00

I did a little research on the origin of the "coffeehouse" and found it to be very interesting. The first known coffeehouses were found in the middle east during the Ottoman Empire. It spread west into Europe through war, conquest and the expanding trade routes.

According to www.squidoo.com ....

"Coffeehouses have been social centers of cultures from Istanbul to London, from Paris to Rome, and most of these were havens for intellectuals, entertainers, writers, and political observers who sat for hours in either very plain (London) or very ornate (Paris) buildings where the coffee was strong, hot and the best conduit for the greatest conversationalists of every era from the 15th century to the 21st."

From http://coffeetea.about.com I learned such tidbits as ....

"It was in an English coffee house that the word "tips" was first used for gratuities. A jar with a sign reading, "To Insure Prompt Service" sat on the counter. You put a coin in the jar to be served quickly.

The British called their coffee houses, "penny universities" because that was the price for the coffee and the social upper-class of business-men were found there. In fact, a small coffee shop run by Edward Lloyd in 1668 was such a business hub, it eventually became the still-operating Lloyd's of London insurance company.

When America was colonized, the coffee house was quick to follow. The role of the American coffee house was the same as those in England: the hotspots for the business community. The Tontine Coffee House (1792) in New York was the original location for the New York Stock Exchange, because so much business was conducted there."

And at http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/coffeehouse I learned (as they quoted Macaulay) ... "The coffeehouse must not be dismissed with a cursory mention. It might indeed, at that time, have been not improperly called a most important political institution. . . . The coffeehouses were the chief organs through which the public opinion of the metropolis vented itself. . . . Every man of the upper or middle class went daily to his coffeehouse to learn the news and discuss it. Every coffeehouse had one or more orators, to whose eloquence the crowd listened with admiration, and who soon became what the journalists of our own time have been called -- a fourth estate of the realm"

I also found there what I felt was a good definition of the Stockman ... "A house of entertainment, where guests are supplied with coffee and other refreshments, and where men meet for conversation."

But I feel the best definition of the Stockman was from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Coffeehouse ... "From a cultural standpoint, coffeehouses largely serve as centers of social interaction: the coffeehouse provides social members with a place to congregate, talk, write, read, entertain one another, or pass the time, whether individually or in small groups of 2 or 3."

All my research this morning proves the importance of the coffeehouse (or cafe') in forming our total culture, the shaping of our nation, it's influence on our business, the exchange of ideas and our political savvy. These gathering of intellectuals continue to discuss the problems we as a nation face.

The part that bothers me is: can we trust the intelligence of a group of guys who would go sit in a room huddled around a stove where the room temperature is 42 degrees! (picture taken INSIDE the Stockman Jan. 16, 2009 at 6:30 AM)

Dennis

New Years Day

2009-01-01T08:18:00.001-06:00

Well 2009 started at the Stockman cafe much the same way 2008 ended, the locals and area ranchers meeting for their morning coffee and conversation. The conversations were the same: the weather forecast, grumblings about this global warming cold, political shenanigans, high taxes, low profits and wall street bailouts.

Clyde began commenting about the Madoff Ponzi scheme. "I just don't see how a guy can scheme billions of dollars out of people for 25 years and no one catch on! And if the stock market hadn't got so screwy, he'd still be doing it."

Chester, who had been listening intently asked, "What is a Ponzi scheme anyway?"

Clyde begin explaining, "That's where you take money from a second guy and give to another calling it profits on the first guys investment."

Chester looked a little puzzled, "I call that ranching! I've been doing that for years!"

Clyde laughed and said, "I reckon they'll throw you in jail if they catch ya!"

"Well, I sure hope they hurry" continued Chester, "the feed bill is almost due!"

Dennis

Christmas my way

2008-12-26T13:55:00.001-06:00

As a young lad, 4th grade, I became disillusioned with Christmas. It was my first year at a "city" school instead of the country school where I had been attending. We had just returned from the Christmas break and each of us were bragging about what we had gotten. I had gotten a Remington 22 squirrel rifle which had a 7 shot clip!

Mrs. Clower, seeing our enthusiasm, decided to have each kid stand in front of the class and tell about one thing they got for Christmas. I think she thought that it would teach us a little about talking to a group. And if we were talking about something we really liked it would be easier than "making up a speech".

It didn't take much coaching to get started. Many kids were holding up their hands to be selected. Those of us that were a little more bashful held off until our names were called. Jack Hudson was the only one that shook his head "no" when she called on him. Mrs. Clower politely called another name and we went on down the list.

Now Jack was a real bashful kid. He was a "country kid" and, like many of us, helped with chores before catching the bus to school and often his clothes showed it. He was a slow reader and wasn't very good at math so he did everything he could to stay out of the limelight.

However Mrs. Clower came to the end of the list and everyone had been in front of the class, that is, except for Jack. She called on him again and again he shook his head no. Everyone in class then turned in their seats to look at Jack. This udder defiance of Mrs. Clower was sure to rain down destruction and everyone wanted to watch the event.

Mrs. Clower then gave the "everyone has to take their turn" speech. Jack just slide down a little more in his seat, his eyes focused on some imaginary spot on his desk. He again shook his head no. There was no rustle of paper or any whispering in the room. The silence was deafening as everyone awaited Mrs. Clower's wrath.

Mrs. Clower then gave Jack the option of standing at his desk and telling his story. Jack slid lower, his eyes still transfixed on the spot. All eyes in the class danced back and forth between Jack and Mrs. Clower. Jack never moved a muscle.

Mrs. Clower then rose from her chair, her eyes fixed on Jack and in one swoop grabbed the paddle from it's resting place on the window ledge. She strode angrily back to Jack's seat and laid the paddle on his desk. Jack didn't twitch.

"Mr. Hudson. You will do as everyone else has done or you will suffer the consequence!" Her voice quivered with anger as she struggled to contain herself.

"Mrs. Clower" Jack's voice was almost a wisher, "I didn't get anything."

All eyes in the class now shifted back to an imaginary spot on our own desks. Mrs. Clower stood there motionless for a few seconds then she ran out the door. There was no talking, whispering or any movement within the room. After a few minutes, Mrs. Clower returned through the door with a handful of Kleenexes, her eyes red and swelled. She never said a word, just wrote our reading assignment on the blackboard and returned to her desk. Mrs. Clower made several trips outside the room that day.

That particular story took a lot of the "fun" out of Christmas for me. As my girls were growing up, anytime Dad would be called a "scrooge" they would be told "The Story". Finally, one of the girls came up with a plan of how to get the fun back in Christmas for ole dad and it is now a tradition.

We each draw names early in the year. You look for a "cause to do good" for that family member. Then on Christmas day you present that family member with a letter of what was done in his/her name. It can be a donation of money for a specific charity or a donation of time in helping or anything in between. The letter explains why you chose that event in their name.

Each Christmas I am amazed even more than the last at how creative the gifts can be. Not only does it make us more mindful of being a good Samaritan at times, but it is uplifting to know how your "gift giver" sees you.

Dennis

Christmas Shopping

2008-12-20T13:39:00.001-06:00

This morning at the Stockman, the subject of Christmas shopping came up. I mentioned I hated to go shopping and that the Warden would just as soon I didn't go with her.

Clem said, "Not my Claire. She wants me to go with her every year."

"Really?" stated Chester, "She really values your opinion on colors and gift selection?"

"Nothing like that," confessed Clem. "She just wants someone to push the cart, tote the bags and pay the bill!"

"Well I only buy one gift each Christmas and that's for Chloe" stated Chester.

"How do you decide what to get her," I asked.

"That's easy," explained Chester, "I just call up my oldest daughter and ask her how much I owe her for Chloe's gift."

And the Spirit of Giving continues another year.

Dennis

A Family Tradition

2008-12-14T07:26:00.001-06:00

Back when the kids were small, it was "Dads" job to load up the bundled toddlers and go find a tree to trim for our front room. Now this was pretty easy when the kids were just toddlers and would think ANY tree I got was "perfect".

Now it's pretty simple for me to select a tree. The first qualification was that it had to be where I could drive the pickup up to it, step out, cut the tree and drive home. It didn't have to have "perfect branches" and couldn't stand over 5 feet tall. Since it was already cut (and the small kids thought it was "perfect") the Warden couldn't turn it down.

But as time went along the "eye of the beholders" became a little more selective and the daughters take after their mother when it comes to "aesthetic beauty" and size. They began to want one of the caliber that the White House would want! This of course would take multiple negations during the selecting phase. What had once been a 30 minute job now took most of a Saturday just to bring one home!

Those kids could spot a tree up to a mile from the nearest road! I swear they had eagle eyes! We would then have to trek out to examine the proposed tree, all the while me trying to explain that the distance made trees look a lot smaller. Standing beside the towering tree, they would eventually agree it was too large and we would trek back.

Finally I spotted one right beside the road, 4 feet tall (maybe I could convince them it was 5) that I thought was perfect. The sun was almost ready to set and I was desperate to find one and get home for supper.

"That's too small!" said daughter number one rather definitively.

"Isn't it suppose to be green?" asked daughter number two, being more sarcastic than for the gaining of knowledge.

"The bottom branches are even charred from the spring burns!" daughter number three pointed out.

I could instantly see that negations were going to be tough. But being the resourceful person I am, I broke into the story of "The Littlest Christmas Tree".

I looked at the tree rather remorseful and started, "This poor little tree. All it's ever wanted was to be selected some day to adorn someone's house on Christmas day. Now deformed and not pretty, no one will ever pick it."

I glanced out of the corner of my eye to see the girls. They were all looking at the tree, lower lips quivering. I kept going.

"No doubt the little tree thought it would be able to some day have a star on top. Bright lights would encircle it's branches and bring colored lights to someone's front room."

I heard a sniff, but I didn't look over thinking I might break the mood.

"It was hoping that some day it would be able to spread it's lower branches over presents that would bring laughter and joy to children." I was almost in tears myself by this time.

Finally one of the daughters said, "It's good enough." and the other two nodded in agreement. As quick as a flash, I grabbed the saw and put the fledgling tree in the pickup. We arrived home, me smiling and the girls all teary eyed.

The story of "The Littlest Christmas Tree" was banned from ever being used again when the tree selection job came around. As a matter of fact, Pappy has been banned from even telling his grandkids the story!!!

Dennis

Prairie Air's Pumpkin Provender

2008-12-06T03:53:00.001-06:00

A few days ago, November 25th to be exact, Prairie Air published a blog about her pumpkin bread. You can read the blog for yourself.

http://prairieair.blogspot.com/2008/11/great-pumpkin-bread-bake-off-of-2008.html

You could almost smell the aroma of the bread as you read the article. And as you can see from the pictures, she not only bakes it, she makes a presentation out of it!! She told of how it had become a tradition of baking this bread for family gatherings. Then that tradition got extended to baking for friends, neighbors and acquaintances. So I jokingly (actually it was a ploy to get on the list) left a comment, What are the chances of your blog buddies getting on that recipient list???

Well lo and behold, Jenni showed up at our church the next Wednesday night and presented the Warden with a loaf of the heavenly sustenance!! Now I'm here to tell you ..... that is GREAT stuff!

But I must admit, I don't know which I savor the most .... the pumpkin bread ... or the budding new friendship of good people.

Dennis

A vacuity of computerese

2008-12-03T21:21:00.001-06:00

The guys at the Stockman are often caught in a time warp, some time between the frontier days and the space age. Cattle still graze the flint hills requiring cattleman to brave the elements for their care. Yet the cell phone and computer are becoming a necessity in doing business.

Cattle are now commonly sold via satellite auctions to prospective buyers all over the nation. Some local auction barns even broadcast their sales over the internet allowing for more distant buyers of the local ranchers live commodities. However, for those that are stuck in this "time warp" ... too young to retire ..... and too old to grasp some of the newer electronic contraptions ... this proves to be a struggle.

This morning Clem was complaining that the Misses was wanting to replace their Dell computer. "It's only 9 years old," he complained, "my tractor is 20 and I'm not ready to replace it!"

"What's the problem with it?" asked Chester.

"She complains that she can cook, eat and do supper dishes while it's warming up." He explained, "I don't see any problem with that. What else would she be doing?"

A young service man, on leave visiting his grandparents and apparently with computer knowledge, asked, "What size processer does it have?"

Clem, not wanting to look like he didn't have a clue, answered, "About the size of any other computer I guess. About 18 inches high and 6-8 inches wide. Sets there on the desk."

"No No" the service man explained, "I mean the part that does the computing, the actual work. Like the engine in a pickup." Clem, now visibly clueless, just shrugged.

"Well, do you know what operating system it has?" continued the young man truly wanting to give some technical advice to his senior acquaintance.

Clem thought for a moment before answering, "Well, she uses a keyboard and mouse."

The young man tried desperately to contain his smile, but it was evident none the less. So rather than to continue his questions, he began explaining the advancements made in the last 9 years in computer processors, internet speeds etc. Everyone was tuned in to listen even though most weren't on the same channel and didn't understand anymore than if they had been listening about brain surgery.

Finally Chester ventured, "You seem to know a lot about computers and electronics, would you mind giving me a little help?"

"I've had quite a bit of training in computers and wireless transmissions" the young man explained, "how can I help?"

"Would you mind," Chester continued, "resetting the digital clock in my feed pickup now that daylight savings time is over?"

Dennis

Restless Natives

2008-11-22T09:43:00.003-06:00

The Warden and I are beginning to struggle a little bit with the audiological part of our lives. Understanding what is said is extremely difficult when other noises are happening at the same time, such as talking in a restaurant where nearby tables are also talking. The ability to sort the sounds of speech from all the other sounds is becoming a greater and greater problem, even at church.

A couple weeks ago the Warden and I were particularly interested in a sermon topic and were becoming engrossed in the sermon. About that time off to my right, the disgruntled grunts of a toddler became very evident. The toddler, unable to communicate verbally, was making her wishes known through squirms, squeals and grunts. The young mother struggled desperately to contain the child on her lap. Finally a toy was selected and offered that stilled the child.

Our attention returned to the sermon to hear another verse or two being read.

As the preacher began his commentary on the verses, what had to be a tug of war between a small girl and her not too much older brother was taking place in the pew just in front of us. The action in itself would not have made much fanfare except the young girl decided to ask for help at the top of her voice range. That young mother too, acted quickly "shushing" the child and arbitrating the matter to its eventual end. The arbitration however did not set to well with the older brother who "whispered" (in a voice audible for the dead) his disapproval. This brought a quick "chin grab" by the father who, eyeball to eyeball with the child, settled the matter.

The fervor now complete, we returned to the commentary, another verse selected and the recitation of the verse started.

Off to my right a young man starts pushing a toy tractor along the top of the pew, his lips vibrating the "make-up" noise of a diesel tractor under full throttle and load. Just as the young man was taking another breath and the tractor another make-up gear, the father scooped up the child onto his lap. The action was so quick the child was taken by surprise and the tractor sounds stopped.

We now were able to hear the end of that verses commentary.

The oldest brother of the family on our pew and the oldest sister of the family in front then decided to exchange the books that each were reading. As she turned to give her book backwards, his 7 year old chubby hands failed him and the book tumbled to the floor in a loud thud. All eyes in the auditorium turned on the sound. From each respective pew of the families involved, there was a scurry as the parents shushed the corresponding delinquent.

Our attention then returned to the last lines of the sermon.

As the Warden and I made our way through the exiting parishioners, Sister Straightlace took hold of my elbow. "May I speak with you?" she asked.

As we stepped out of the traffic flow, she stated, "the natives were a bit restless this morning."

"Yes ma'am" I replied with a rather embarrassed smile.

"You do know I am talking of your grandchildren," she further stated. "Something needs to be done. Children need to be taught to sit quietly in church."

Now some may say here "the devil made me do it" ..... but really I think I had some inspirational help.

"Yes ma'am. And I am thankful YOU noticed my grandchildren were in church this morning just as they are at every congregational meeting." Then I looked her in the eye, "May I ask where YOUR grandchildren are?"

^{PR 17:6} Grandchildren are the crown of old men

Dennis

Dearly Beloved we are here to honor .......

2008-11-21T04:37:00.002-06:00

"Hey!" he says with a great big smile and firm handshake, "It's great to see you. What's it been? Fifteen, no twenty years since I seen you two?" A round stories follow beginning with "you remember the time ..."

Then a light comes on as the mind fully remembers, "Oh yeah, now I remember the last time I seen you. It was at (fill in any name here)'s funeral. Strange we only meet at these things. We need to get together sometime soon."

The afore mentioned story has happened at every funeral I have ever attended.

Yesterday, the Warden and I attended yet another funeral of a woman whose life had been unexpectedly shortened. Yesterday the Warden and I again vowed to renew old acquaintances and friendships. Isn't it strange that we let "life happen" rather than "live life"? We let life control us rather than staying in control of our lives?

"Yesterday" ... unlike "tomorrow" .... can never be changed and yet it will bear the memories that forever shape our lives.

Just some rambling thoughts.

Dennis

Out on the Town

2008-11-15T21:01:00.001-06:00

This has been the second Saturday night in as many weeks that the Warden and I went out. Last weekend we went to a wedding reception and even danced a couple times (kind of hard to do when your holding a grand-daughter between you .. but did give me a good excuse for stepping on her toes!) But it was fun none the less.

And then tonight we went to the movies, ate supper out and then went to Wal-Mart before coming home. It had been awhile since we had been to the movies ... and the $7.50 that use to buy two admissions, a tub of popcorn and a barrel of pop was about one third enough! And I have to admit, I was thinking there was no way the movie could be THAT good ..... but I was wrong.

We went to see "Fireproof" .... and it was worth every penny. I don't care if you've been married 1 year or 40 ... spend the $25 dollars and go see it (with a bucket of popcorn and a large soda pop of course). And if you don't get blurry-eyed sometime during that movie, you're a lot tougher than me (or dead).

I don't imagine that it'll win any awards from Hollywood even though the acting was good, the story-line great and I haven't heard ONE bad thing about it from any who has seen it. However to win awards from Hollywood .... there needs to be vulgar language, nudity and some sort of political statement to blame Bush for something.

Anyway ..... the Warden and I sure agree on this ...... go see the movie (even if you have to float a loan from the local bank ... I hear Congress is giving them more!) Somewhere in that movie, you'll see yourself.

Dennis

Thanks

2008-11-11T20:35:00.000-06:00

How do you ever adequately thank the veterans for the service they have provided this nation? Some gave the ultimate sacrifice, some suffered with wounds but all suffered the absence of being with loved ones.

Over the years I have met many men/women who served in WWII, Korea, Vietnam as well as the more recent wars of the middle east and I admire each. However, recently I found out that a friend had once served as a Marine. Due to his age, I ask him if he had been in Vietnam. His response was that he had only been on one base outside the USA mainland. When I ask him which base, his response was Guantanamo.

Doing some quick math in my head, "What year?" I asked.

"1961 through 1963" was his quick response.

"We're talking Bay of Pigs and the Cuban missile crisis!" I stated rather emphatically.

"Yep" was his only response, offering no further explanation but rather lead off into another direction of conversation. My attempts to learn more brought only "yes" or "no" answers. Over the next few weeks I tried to no avail to learn more of his service during that time.

Then one day he handed me an article from a major newspaper, "You wanted to know what I did in Cuba? Read this." I quickly scanned the article which had been written after the release of material from the archives. Things that had been locked away for years in files marked "top secret". The cold war era of espionage, covert operations and CIA operatives.

The article was bringing more questions to my mind than it was answering. "This is CIA stuff, not Marine."

"I and 32 other sharp shooters were recruited, trained, dropped into the bay to swim ashore on Cuba. We spent 63 days there with orders to disrupt" was his response.

"So when Kennedy said there would be no American servicemen on Cuba, he wasn't exactly telling the truth?" It was more of a statement than a question, but I needed clarification.

"We had no identification or dog tags. Had we been caught, there would have been no trial." Having said that he headed out the door and to this day I have never yet got any more of this mystery answered.

But I do wonder how many have served in such a manner and never said a word.

Thanks to ALL veterans.

Dennis

Priceless

2008-11-02T20:16:00.001-06:00

Big bowl of tallerina ..... $20

Hot rolls and a salad .... $10

3 Butterscotch pies ..... $ 5 /ea

Birthday Cards .... $ 2 /ea

Surprise birthday party with a family tribute to dear ole dad ..... priceless!!!!

My girls and the Warden pulled a fast one on me last night. Since baby Ruth (my youngest daughter ... not the candy bar) has been down visiting for a couple weeks, they decided to celebrate my birthday a little early before Ruth went home. Last night under the guise of a family gathering at the middle daughters house, they completely caught me off guard with a surprise birthday party a couple weeks early. There was my favorite dish tallerina ... hot rolls .... salad and the Warden even made me some butterscotch pies!

After supper we had a family singing, which is one of my favorite pastimes and I didn't even have to beg!! Each of my girls have tremendous vocal talent, so anytime I get a chance, I want to hear them sing .... but usually it's a little hard to get them all together to sing. Then the older grands all had some songs they wanted to sing for Pappy, it was quite a performance! There were cowboy songs, truck driving songs and a couple gospel hymns. Proud Pappy couldn't have buttoned his shirt after it was over.

Then each of my girls read letters they had written about childhood memories, values they had learned while growing up and some funny things they remembered. Even if they didn't bring a crown, I felt like a king .... actually, a crown wouldn't have fit because my head was swelled so much.

It just don't get better than this!

(There's a couple pieces of pie left ... I think I'll go get me a piece now)

Dennis

Just another day ...

2008-10-29T20:17:00.001-05:00

Today, like most days, I was driving from one customer to another ..... figuring out how to sell another load of feed when the cell phone rang. Now cell phones in rural Kansas are barely a step above smoke signals on a windy day ... so if it DOES ring you stop as soon as possible or you loose the signal.

As it so happened, the nearest stop to get off the highway happened to be the driveway of an old country cemetery. Well after the call was over, curiosity got the best of me so I stepped from the car and began to look through the headstones at dates and names. Being somewhat of a history buff .. I enjoy visualizing what the "era" would have been like for the person that is eternally resting under the headstone.

There weren't a whole lot of headstones in this .... almost forgotten country graveyard ... but a few were large and sculptured ... some just more or less markers of the grave. Some were affectingly marked as "Mother" or "Father" ... a few said "infant son/daughter of ...." The headstones told little of the persons life, primarily only the date of birth and death .... that is except for "George Pruitt".

Now I never knew George Pruitt ... according to the date on his headstone, he died some 30+ years before I was even born. But I wish I had known him, for on his tombstone was written ..

George Pruitt

1853 - 1919

As a neighbor ... commendable

As a friend ... trustworthy

As a father ... honorable

As a husband ... admirable

What more could any man wish to be said of his life.

Dennis

Joe the plummer .......

2008-10-16T21:10:00.003-05:00

... Slim the cowboy ..... Sam the trucker ..... Sarah the secretary ..... Sheila the nurse ..... Steve the trash truck driver .... we're all in the same boat. Trying to better ourselves. Working hard to make a living ..... making ends meet, trying to make more than we did last year .... try to save a few bucks ....... put some back for a rainy day and maybe make enough so we can buy some of those things we have always dreamed about.

MAYBE even start a business of our own .... for what? So we can keep Pelosi in a private plane to fly around? Help some Senator put his name on a government building? Help some congressman build a freeway and buy a few votes?

This is a true story.

Two of my customers are former "trash truck" drivers. Both are now millionaires ..... but if you met either one, you wouldn't know it. They worked hard ..... took risks and made the correct decisions that led them to be in the right place at the right times. They sold their "fledgling" companies for millions and now own farms and cattle. Both still wear overalls and talk about coon hunting, setting lines for fishing and eat "hot hamburgers" covered with French fries and white cream gravy.

They got up early. Drove used cars with bald tires and sweated every day it was hot ... blowed warm air into their hands on cold days and got soaking wet when it rained. They earned every dollar .... and even paid every tax dollar required of them.

Now WHY am I entitled to some of their fortunes? Why would I want more than their friendship? They'd give you the shirt off their back if you were in need. But if you try to "take it" ...... you'd best be ready for the tussle of your life ..... because they WORKED for what they have.

Mr. Obama .... I for one don't want you to "spread the wealth around" ....... just get out of the way and let those of us who DO BELIEVE in the AMERICAN DREAM have a chance at it. My daddy taught me ..... if you want a bigger house, go get a job and buy it. Pay what you owe and do the job you were hired to do.

Mr. Obama .... what did your daddy teach you.

Dennis

Sure is quiet around here

2008-10-11T19:32:00.002-05:00

Last weekend the Warden and I went to Arkansas to visit my dad. His 83rd birthday was coming up and that gave good reason for quick trip down to visit him and eat some cake. While there Dad mentioned he had something he had found that Shirley might like to have. He then gave her an article from the 1991 Winfield Daily Courier Achievement Edition that my mother had saved.

The article was about the Warden's volunteer work at our local elementary school. She was, at the time, the president of the parent / teacher organization. She also volunteered one afternoon a week as an aide working with the students doing what ever the teachers needed. There were several quotes from her about the activities of the school, the aide program and the PTO organization.

It also quoted the principal's glowing words concerning my wife and the program of which she was a part. He mentioned how the aide program, though unpaid, was invaluable to the students. There were also some pictures of her working with the students.

The Warden then handed me the article explaining further to Dad what the PTO had achieved during those former years. She told how the old school had been replaced and now she worked in the libraries of the new schools. "Wow," she said looking at me, "That was a trip down memory lane."

"Sure is." was my response, pointing to a picture. "You were a lot thinner back then."

She hasn't spoken to me much this past week ... at least not with civility.

Dennis

Out of the blue

2008-10-07T18:47:00.004-05:00

It's been so long since I wrote a blog ... I've about forgot how! But I must confess, almost anything I would have written the last few days would have been a drag and a downer because of all the political shenanigans and rhetoric that has the airways blocked. I for one will be glad when this election is over .... assuming we are still the United States of America .... and not the Socialists States of America.

I do have to admit .... when I watched Sarah Palin's acceptance speech .... I did stand and cheer! I for one say, take the lipstick off that hockey mom and let the Rottweiler in her tear some politcal @&& up in Washington DC! I do have to admit though, I do worry about her "inexperience" ..... I mean it takes EXPERIENCE to screw things up this bad! And with NO experience, she might actually FIX SOMETHING!

There's only one thing I have against Sarah Palin .... one thing I shall always hold against her .. it happened in her interview with Katie Couric .... Sarah didn't haul off and belt that elitist biddy in the mouth. But ... there's always a possibility she'll fix that someday.

Dennis

The term "Pro-choice" seems odd to me .....

2008-09-28T05:42:00.001-05:00

officer:"Sir I've pulled you over because the children in the back seat are not restrained in car seats in a moving vehicle."

man:"Officer, my grand kids were here visiting and we were just going a few blocks to get some ice cream."

officer:"Sir, it's the law. You don't have a choice."

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

Doctor: "Ma'am, the test are conclusive. You're pregnant."

Woman: "Doctor, you must be mistaken. Another child will change all my plans."

Doctor: "If it's inconvenient, you can abort. You do have a choice."

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

It just seems odd to me that there are laws to protect children's lives ... except for the unborn and it's called being "pro-choice".

Dennis

Meeting women off the net update

2008-09-24T19:48:00.001-05:00

OK....... here's proof for those "nay-sayers" who had doubts that I actually met a "sweet young thing" off the net! Meet Katy!!!!! (OK her name is Sarah ... but I first met her as Katy!)

From My thoughts

Dennis

There's no pleasing that woman....

2008-09-14T04:47:00.001-05:00

As many of you might remember, a year ago in April the Warden embarked on a strategy to rebuild our house. And I must admit the improvements have generally been good improvements to our living quarters and lifestyle. However certain projects have been put aside as more pressing projects have taken the forefront.

Sometime in the midst of our kitchen remodel, the vent in the hood over the stove stopped working. At the time I told the Warden, "I'll check it out when we get time." Each time the Warden would cook for family or company this past year, she would reference the fact that the vent wasn't working. And each time I proclaimed, "I'll check it out when we get time."

Well this past week the Warden said she was headed to Wichita to look at new range hoods. That sure seemed like a waste of money to me to buy a NEW range hood, so I assured her that I would look into it before she would have to buy one ...... and Saturday I did just that.

The removing of the ailing motor took approximately 15-20 minutes. I then made a fast trip to Wichita to buy said motor. I retuned to reinstall said motor which took about another 15 minutes. I stepped back in pride to observe my handiwork and turned on the switch. The purr of the new motor was reference to man's dominion over his kingdom.

I smiled at the Warden.

"You're done?" was her astonished response.

"Yeah, nothing to it" I said, wanting to beat my chest and give the Tarzan yodel.

She just stood there looking at me, hands on hips.

"Is something wrong?" I inquired.

"I have been waiting for a year with no stove vent and it only took 30 minutes to actually FIX the thing?" she said. More of a statement than an inquiry and with that she turned and headed out of the kitchen.

I swear, there is just no pleasing that woman.

Dennis

Meeting women off the net.

2008-09-03T04:39:00.000-05:00

Sunday I got to meet a woman that I had met "on line". I had heard/read a lot about people meeting "on line" ... some even traveling from across the country. Well this woman was from the Houston area .... (that's quite a haul too!) ... and was coming to the area ... so I asked the Warden if I could meet her ... and she said OK!

So Sunday after church we stopped by a family reunion and I got to meet Katy (OK, her real name is Sarah .... but seems I have a hard time remembering names ... and she is from Katy). Anyway, she and her family were gracious enough to take a few minutes and allow me to introduce myself to her and her immediate family (Ryan, Caleb and Logan).

She has a great blog full of pictures, news of her expanding family and the values they live by. It's worth a read so click here and check her out. I especially like reading her "Thankful Thursdays" ... makes me more aware of my surroundings as I should be.

I hear so much about "young people" these days and how bad the values are. How they don't "take responsibility", how they raise their kids ... yada yada yada. If you ever watch the TV news or read the paper, you have been deluged with how bad the world is becoming. I don't believe it anymore than I believe in man made global warming ..... and this young family is just more PROOF. I agree that there is plenty of bad young people out there (always have been) ... but there is a LOT of good ones too. Come ride with me some day and I'll introduce you to some of them.

Thanks Katy, Ryan, Caleb and Logan for taking a few minutes from your reunion to meet me. (And thanks to Mark and Karen for the invite.)

And another thought just hit me ..... having the Warden's permission to meet women "off the net" might come in REAL handy!!!

Dennis

Atlanta Labor Day

2008-08-31T05:57:00.003-05:00

Last night the Warden and I took a gallon of home made ice cream and headed to Atlanta. Each year the citizens of Atlanta host a weekend long Labor Day celebration. People from all over come join in the revelry; Families come home to have reunions; and I go to get a bowl of ice cream!

I written about it before on a couple of occasions: Labor Day 2005 and Labor Day 2006

Well last night was no different from past years. The city park was covered with people of all ages, each carrying a plate of food. There were old timers comparing notes and seeing who could " 'member the most", grandparents showing off their grandkids, grandkids moving at sonic speed, teenage boys checking out teenage girls and the usual political wannabe's shaking a few hands.

While there I talked to Bret and Robin (I nearly shot his wife 32 years ago ... but that's another story!) But they are a loyal Labor Day celebrationist now and return to Atlanta every year for the festivities. Bret is also a good photographer and has recorded the celebration for several years. Click here to see some of his pictures.

Tomorrow the Warden and I will return to Atlanta and watch the parade and visit again with old friends of by gone years. If you want some good times .... come join us.

Dennis

I love a debate ....

2008-08-21T20:56:00.002-05:00

I normally don't "comment on comments" .... but this time I must. I responded directly to Jenni via email because I could .... but I have no way to directly respond to "a non-climate scientist" so I shall use this forum. (I wish you would at least sign it Fred or Nancy or whatever) Nor shall I know if you even read my rebuttal.

First of all, we agree on one thing ... I won't play Russian roulette. As a matter of fact, I wouldn't even put an unloaded gun to my head. So the premise of your statement has no bearing.

Now, concerning your statement, "but what if the scientists are right? ". My first question is; Which scientist? The ones who tout global warming? Or the ones that doubt global warming? There is NOT a consensus among scientist about either. Perhaps you have not heard of the Global Warming Petition Project. It would be easy to miss because it is hardly reported and only has 31,000 scientists signing it. (and only started in 1997) If you are truly interested in research go to that site, please at least read the letter written in 1998 by Fredrick Seitz, Past President of the National Academy of Scientists; President Emeritus, Rockefeller University.

Concerning your statement "we have to replace our current lifestyle". Which lifestyle? Mine or yours? What does that mean? Stop eating meat? Plow the fields with horses again? Park our cars and trucks? Stop flying? Turn off air conditioners and heaters? What is the problem with our lifestyle? Nancy Pelosi who says she's saving the planet sure doesn't take the train or bus .... and I even doubt she flys commercial!! Al Gore (the Nobel Peace Prize guy) doesn't drive a Prius or ride a bicycle when he travels!! So should our current lifestyle return to the feudal system of serf and noble?

Concerning your statement "When you ignore the data". Again we agree. I hope you don't ignore the data either or for that matter use "selective" data. As for me, I shall continue to use the God given sense I have to reason for myself.

And as far as "Unless you're a fool" .... I am reminded of a 2000 year old writing to a group of Romans that says, although they claimed to be wise, they became fools.

Dennis <-------- that's me!!!

Rain Slicker and Mud Boots ..... In August?

2008-08-14T04:44:00.000-05:00

Is it really the middle of August? Toto, am I really in Kansas? And I am to believe that this cooler than normal weather is being caused by global warming.

Folks, I'm tired. I'm tired of idiots telling me that I'm slowly burning up when in fact I'm looking for a long sleeved shirt, IN AUGUST! I'm tired of hearing how the bread basket of North America will lay barren due to drought when in fact our rivers overflow their rain filled banks, IN AUGUST. I tend more to agree with the June 24, 1974 Time Magazine article that a global ice age is returning. Or perhaps if you are a naysayer (or even worse, a believer in global warming) an even more recent article written in 2005. Climate change is a natural occurrence and the effect humans has on it are local not global.

I'm tired of being forced to purchase ethanol in gasoline. (talk to your local gas station and see if he is purchasing fuel with added alcohol) Since I drive an average of 250 miles a day, I have a log of my fuel mileage ..... (alcohol reduces my mileage by at least 10%). The only thing that ethanol improves is the intake of federal and state fuel taxes because you have to buy more gallons.

I'm tired of "political correctness". I'm tired of listening to one woman saying she is "saving the planet" by not drilling. I'm tired of politicians taking my liberties and spending my money and saying it is for my well being. It is time to take the country back, not by revolt, but by the vote. We have an election coming this November. Make your vote count this year. KNOW what your candidate's position is on the different policies ... and if they don't follow-up on it .... vote them back out.

This has been my rant for the day.

Dennis

The Stockman's Cafe

2008-07-10T20:46:00.001-05:00

Over the last couple years, some of the readers of this blog have mentioned they enjoyed the stories which originated at the Stockman's Cafe. So after learning a bit about YouTube .... I am going to attempt to make a video blog with actual videos from morning coffee. I will try to add one or two a week. Right now they are pretty quiet when I turn it on .... but as time goes along I am sure they will eventually come around and the videos become more fun.

Please keep in mind ... these are grown men and the language at times might be colorful to say the least.

Watch at your own risk!

The first one is an introduction to the Stockman Cafe.

http://stockmancafe.blogspot.com/

Dennis

Boots spurs and tennis shoes

2008-06-22T07:27:00.003-05:00

Yesterday morning at the coffee shop, after the "how much rain did we get" report was over, Clyde asked about where a guy could get a pair of boots fixed.

"This is the most comfortable pair of dress boots I ever had" he continued. "But the sole is getting a hole in it. Does anyone around still half sole boots?"

From around the table came suggestions where guys had had boots fixed; Wichita, Ponca City, Bartlesville, Amarillo. With each suggestion came the consumer report for that place of business and the price last paid.

"Well there's a guy down at Niotaze that does a good job. He done these." Clem offered as he raised his foot to the edge of the table for everyone's nod of approval, "and he only charged twenty bucks!" which brought more nods of approval.

"The wife wants me to throw them away" Clyde continued. "But dang it's hard to find comfortable boots anymore. Everything I try on hurts my feet. She says maybe I should just get me a pair of loafers to wear for dress. I'd feel plum naked though without boots on."

All nodded their agreement except for one.

"I did break down and buy me a pair of tennis shoes the other day," Chester offered sheepishly.

"Tennis shoes?" asked Clyde needing clarification he had heard correctly.

"Yeah!" exclaimed Chester in defense. "I got tired of my feet hurting" he said hoping to rectify his reasoning.

Clyde was just looking at his friend with one eyebrow raised, the other sort of squinting. "What brand did you get?"

"Well," Chester continued. "I just stopped at Wal-Mart and got me a cheap pair."

"Not a pair of them gray ones that all the old men wear around town?" Clyde asked, still disbelieving his life long cowboy friend. "With the Velcro straps?"

"Yep" Chester said putting his foot up on the table. "Really, sort of comfortable. The only thing wrong is trying to keep a set of spurs on them".

"Goodness!" Clyde snorted in disbelief. "At least you ain't got none of them bermuda shorts."

"Uh ....." Chester stammered, "bought a pair of those too."

Dennis

Standing in his shadow

2008-06-15T03:21:00.002-05:00

A couple weeks ago, I was getting gas down at the Copan Truck stop .. (out at the fuel pumps ... not in the restaurant!) .. when this semi pulled along the next fuel island. The driver set the air and had no sooner set one foot on the ground when a boy about 10 years old came bailing out the driver side door.

"Dad", he asked, "can I put the diesel in?" The driver nodded and patiently helped the youngster start the fuel into the tank. All the while the youngster was jabbering excitedly about this and that.

"Dad, can I bump the tires?" was his next question. The driver reached in just under the seat and handed the boy a small ball peen hammer which the excited youngster grabbed and headed back hitting each tire to check inflation. The driver followed along closely lending a trained ear to the sound as the boy struck each tire.

"Dad, that one sound low?" the boy ask, sounding some what excited that he might have found one.

"I believe it's ok" the driver answered, "let's check the rest of them." I watched and listened as the two walked around the truck, the same question / answer repeated at each set of duals, the driver patiently teaching his son.

My car now fueled, I was ready to leave when they walked close by. "That's quite a swamper you've got there" I said with a wink.

"Yeah, he's still a little short on one end ... but I think he'll make it" the driver said looking down with a grin. The boy, standing in his father's shadow beamed with pride.

I looked at the sign on the door of the truck ..... Wilson Freight Line, Omaha Nebraska ... but for a second, I was transported back 46 years and it read E. L. Reddish, Springdale, Arkansas.

Thanks Dad .. I ain't forgot your guidance .. Happy Father's Day

Dennis

Visiting Tess

2008-06-06T05:34:00.004-05:00

The Warden and I came to Peoria yesterday on our annual pilgrimage to visit our youngest daughter, her husband .... and of course our youngest grand daughter Tess. The drive up was a perfect day except very windy. (The strong tail winds did help improve gas mileage though!!) And the folks in STL actually had the ramp fixed onto the I70 bridge (first time in 5 years we made it on to the bridge without a few hour delay or detouring .... click here for a recap of a previous attempt)

And I must explain my absence from the blogosphere for the past few days (other than not having a thought worth recording). Last Saturday morning we had one heck of a hail storm. The biggest blessing the Warden and I have is that we are not depending on farming for a living. The crops locally to Burden were indeed destroyed or greatly reduced.

Our insurance agent acted quickly though and an adjuster was examining our house for damage Wednesday by noon. He reported to us late Wednesday night with the claim. Roof (the one we put on brand new last Oct with 30 year Heritage shingles) was totaled. The gutters (installed new a year ago) totaled. The siding on the north, west and east ... totaled. It appears the estimates are sufficient .... so basically we are going to end up with almost a cosmetically new house.

But back to the better things to write about .... our trip to see Tess.

Tess turned one just last week and we hadn't got to play with her since Christmas. Ruth had kept us "up to date" with U-tube videos of her changing, learning to walk and beginning to speak. Now naturally, when Ruth sent a video of Tess learning to say "Pappy" last week ... my desire to come to Peoria grew 100%.

For those who can view U-tubes click here to view this awesome event.

Now (as Paul Harvey says) for the rest of the story. As everyone knows, to teach a child a new word, one has to repeat the word often .... and soon the child mimics the word. At the same time the child is also associating the word with the event that is happening. An example would be saying "no" and swatting the hand. This of course teaches the child that when you say "no" they are to stop what they are doing.

Herein lies the problem .... Ruth often used the time changing dirty diapers to repeat the word "Pappy". So at this time, Pappy means dirty diaper ... but I'm optimistic I'll have the meaning changed before I leave to go home ... and hopefully I don't just redirect it till Tess thinks I'm a dirty old man. What I'm wondering now is ..... did Ruth just overlook the "repeat / association" technique .... or is she picking up some of the Warden's devious ways?
Dennis

A Debt of Gratitude

2008-05-24T05:45:00.002-05:00

A few years ago, a retired preacher from a nearby town was to hold our morning and evening services while our own preacher left for a family gathering on Memorial Day weekend. The Warden, known for her hospitality, invited this elderly preacher and his wife to dinner and to spend the afternoon with us while awaiting his second service.

After dinner, he and I moved to the recliners of the living room while his wife and the Warden cleared the table. Because of the great age difference, we were having somewhat of a difficult time with conversation topics, so I flipped on the History Channel and turned the volume down real low. I was previously aware that the History Channel was going to air a Memorial Day Special on WWII all afternoon and I had planned on watching it. I thought perhaps it might also be a conversation starter for us ..... I had no idea just how correct that would be.

As his wife and the Warden joined us, the segment just starting on the History Channel was the landing at Normandy. I mentioned my admiration for those soldiers who climbed off the LCMs facing insurmountable odds.

"They expected a 70 percent causality rate," was his mater-of-fact reply, "or at least that is what they told us."

"Us?" I repeated as I turned the volume completely down.

"I landed with the second wave at Utah."

He seemed willing to talk so I turned off the TV and listened all afternoon to his first hand account of the invasion of Normandy, the liberation of France and ultimately Europe. He told of his part in the Battle of the Bulge as a foot soldier under Patton. With tears forming in his eyes, some of the carnage of two concentration camps in Austria. The afternoon was over much to soon and my history lesson ended. As we got up to leave, his wife of well over 50 years stated she had heard more that afternoon of his WWII experience than in all the 50 plus years of their marriage combined.

"He just never talks about it." she explained.

I have noticed that too, most veterans know we ... those of us who have never served in that manner .... won't completely understand.

And that is what this short blog is about ... an attempt to thank those "common people" who has kept this nation free ... the school bus driver who fought at Anzio ... the school teacher who as a marine landed on islands in the south Pacific ... the banker who flew spotter planes in Viet Nam ..... the college professor who fought in Korea ... the farmer who as a medic rode helicopters under fire into the rice paddies of Viet Nam to retrieve wounded soldiers ..... the rancher who laughs as he recounts some funny happening in the jungles, then cries when he recalls a buddy's name ... the list goes on from history ... and the list continues to grow with Iraqi Freedom.

Again, I thank you for your service.

Dennis

If I knew then, what I now know .....

2008-05-19T20:55:00.001-05:00

Thirty-six years ago, when we started out,

I had no idea, what marriage was about!

It sounded easy, simply give and take,

Decisions would be fluent, effortless to make.

After all, I was the man of the house,

All she had to do, was listen to her spouse.

But all that thinking was about to falter,

As we exchanged rings there before the altar.

I soon learned, that it takes two,

If you take that pledge and say "I do."

Now take a bed, with his and her side,

Who cares if mine is only a third as wide.

The closet is filled with blouses and skirts,

With barely enough room for a couple of my shirts.

Then I lay down the law and got that look,

I knew for sure, my goose was gonna cook.

So we came to an understanding way back then,

I make the decisions, she says when.

If I had known then, what I now know,

I wouldn't change a thing, I'd let it be so.

Dennis

Wildflowers

2008-05-17T04:45:00.003-05:00

^{Mt 6:28b} See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor or spin.
^{Mt 6:29} Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these

When I was a child, my mother taught me to love wildflowers. She taught me to look closely at the intricate detail God puts in each one. Some He puts in clusters; others He keeps single; some in radiant color. So yesterday, with the sun bright and warm, I had to stop along a gravel road and admire God's handiwork.

The prairie was awash in color.
But to really enjoy God's handiwork, one needs to be on his knees.
A place I, and perhaps others, need to spend more time.

I hope my children learned the same from me.
Dennis

Seeing the unseen

2008-05-12T20:58:00.001-05:00

There's a good uplifting book by Joe Beam about spiritual warfare by the same name as this blog. Don't confuse this blog with that uplifting book ...... this blog's about getting older and weakening eyes ... and seeing what you thought you seen!!! If you're over 50 you know what I mean about the eyes ... the print gets a little smaller ... the bifocals a little thicker and you now own 4 or 5 handheld magnifying glasses..... but let me explain the rest.

The other day, the Warden ask me to mow the yard while she went to do the grocery shopping. Well while as I was tinkering on the mower, I got a small sliver of steel in my index finger. Now admitedly we're not talking 911 / EMS emergency here ... but it was so positioned that everything I touched wiggled that little sliver and was kind of like touching a small electrical current. Now out in the bright sunlight I could barely see it just under the skin and nothing I was doing seemed to remove the barb. So after fiddling with it for the better part of an hour, I headed to the house to retrieve a needle.

There's two places it's hard to find a needle; in a haystack and in the Wardens sewing box!! There's everything in the world there except needles! Clasps, buttons, spools of thread, snaps, safety pins etc. Finally, giving up on finding a needle, I took one of the safety pins and with a pair of pliers designed me a pointed object! Back to the front porch and direct sunlight I started trying to pry the irritating barb from under the skin.

Well it seemed all I was getting done was torturing myself by wiggling it because I really couldn't see the protruding end of the sliver good enough to get hold of it. What I needed was a magnifying glass. So back in the house I went to get one of those. Now comes the fun part ... trying to hold the magnifying glass and needle (pointed object in my case) ... in my left hand while working on the right. I am not ambidextrous

My neighbor Susie had been working in her flower gardens all afternoon while I was fidgeting with my minor yet irritating problem..... and perhaps she had heard a word or two of frustration. Susie is a very attractive young mother of two and I had been reprimanded a couple times by the Warden for spending a little too much time being neighborly. But anyway, she called out and inquired as to what I was doing.

I walked across the street, finger extended verifying my minor injury. I explained how I was having problems getting the sliver out. Susie took one look (without the magnifying glass) and said she had a needle (she scoffed at my pointed object) and a pair of tweezers. So I followed her into her living room where she extracted the irritating barb in a matter of seconds. I thanked her and headed out the door to get started mowing.

Well just as I was coming out the door, the Warden drove by returning from getting groceries. I followed her into the garage so I could help her unload her groceries. I was reaching to get the first bag of groceries as she stood arms folded just looking at me, eyes first looking at me then across the street. So I explained how Susie had helped get the sliver from my finger.

"That took all afternoon?' she asked pointing at the unmowed front yard.

I don't know which is worse .... having to wear bifocals or seeing what you thought you saw.

Dennis

Dreams

2008-05-07T03:41:00.000-05:00

Now back in biblical times dreams meant something. Some were like visions of the future. You remember Joseph's dream provoked so much jealousy that his brothers sold him into slavery. Then from there his ability at interpreting dreams helped him rise to be second in power only to the Pharaoh. Then there was Daniel and King Nebuchadnezzar. Daniel was able to interpret his dream and also rose in standing in Babylon.

Sometimes dreams are influenced by things on our minds, things that happened that day or some sort of stress we are undergoing in our lives. Well I need a modern day Joseph or Daniel to do a little interpreting ..... or maybe a hidden camera to gather evidence!

Now I'll admit, over the years I've done some strange things in my sleep. Back in the early married days, I was having a tremendous problem with a co-worker. So bad was the problem that one night I dreamed I caught him by the cuff of the neck and drawed back to give him a pop. I probably would have popped him good if my new wed had not screamed out in time because it was the cuff of her cotton night shirt I had hold of.

And there was the time a few years later that I dreamed I needed to go check the heifers I had penned that might be calving. I couldn't find the keys to the pickup in my pocket. The Warden woke me at the backdoor; clad in boots, hat and underwear; searching in my non-existent pockets for the keys.

Then night before last I dreamed I was eating supper and watching AFV on TV when my glass of tea tipped to fall over the edge of the table. With my lightening fast reflexes I reached to grab the glass and was awaken with a very audible "ooof!"

As I blinked my eyes trying to get my bearings, I saw the Warden sitting up in bed. "What was that for?" she demanded.

"What was what for?" I asked still trying to figure out where I was.

"Hitting me in the ribs like that!" she replied.

"I reached out to grab a glass that was falling off the table" I explained.

"What glass! What table!" She was a little irritated to say the least.

"In my dream" I continued with my explanation.

"Yeah. Right!" She didn't seem to accept my answer.

"Com'on. You can't blame someone for a dream can you?" I replied to her disbelieving attitude. With that I rolled over and tried to catch up on my unfinished night's sleep.

Well now the blog should stop here ... but it doesn't. Last night, my wonderful nights sleep was interrupted when I was slammed in the face by a book. Before I could realize I was under attack, I was accosted again. I throwed up my hand and barely deflected a third blow.

"Hey! What's going on?" I asked in a not to low voice.

"I dreamed there was a spider on your pillow and I was trying to get it!" she explained. And before I even questioned her motive she continued, "You can't blame someone for their dreams can you?" And with that she set the book down on the night table and turned off the light.

My question is .... why was the light on if she was asleep?

Dennis

Working calves

2008-05-04T09:04:00.013-05:00

In times past, several people have encouraged me to write about some of the "characters" I meet on a daily basis. A week or so ago as I went to coffee on a Saturday morning there were pickups and trailers setting outside with horses loaded. It was evident that some one was going to work calves. So I ask if I might come along to take a few pictures. (I sure didn't want to help!!)

The crew that was gathering there at morning coffee were 3 area ranchers and sons and I thought that maybe I could get the perfect father/son picture. The pictures I got were "OK" but the brims of hats and bills on caps prevented the perfect ones. But I would like to share a few of these with you in this blog.

These first pictures are of JD (whose cattle they were working) and his oldest son. JD's ranch is just on the south side of Cambridge and is picturesque in it's setting. His son Russ is the perfect example of my definition of cowboy in a former blog. Russ chose engineering as a profession and works for a firm in Wichita but is here often working cattle with his dad and other area ranchers. Russ grew up hanging on the side of a DewEze hay monster as his dad hauled hay all along the Grouse Creek valley. This was well before the time that child restraints were mandatory in a moving vehicle. I am sure than in today's world, JD would be arrested for child endangerment. But anyone who knows Russ, knows he grew up right.

The next pictures are of Neil and his son Jared. Neil was a young man, perhaps no older than Jared now, when I first came to Cambridge. At that time his primary ranching duties were as a working cowboy for a cattleman just north of town. Clay J said of him "he's a good hand", which is a title not easily bestowed upon the young. But through hard work and desire for the profession, Neil has earned his own right as an area rancher. Jared follows close in his father's example. Jared is one of the first names mentioned anytime there is something ready to happen from gathering cattle to building fence. And this is not because he's Neil's son, it's because Jared is a "good hand".

The next pictures are of Mark and his son Wyatt. Mark, like myself, is a transplant to this area. Not long after arriving he married a local girl. Now many of the older area women at the time said "she could've done better" but time, Mark's hard working ethic and sense of humor has won them over. Wyatt, like his dad, showed the willingness to work where ever needed and was given some time to learn in several areas from "tail-gunner" to chute operator.

Now one thing about being the youngest on the crew, you've got to be ready for advice, whether from grandpa

or jokingly from a fellow cowboy.

And advice from an elder and valued friend should always be a welcomed influence, whether your talking about the cattle industry....

or just advice about dating "girls".

And last but not least, I caught this picture of Mark standing as if he is some gunslinger ready to draw down on an hombre on some dusty street of the old west. But seeing as how he isn't wearing a pistol, but rather carrying a donut .... we had to title it .. "the fastest donut eater in the west".

Dennis

Foot and Mouth disease

2008-04-29T05:07:00.001-05:00

Foot and mouth disease is a very deadly malady in the livestock industry. It was eradicated many years ago in the US and Canada through quarantine and destruction of diseased herds. It recently has become a national security concern again because of terrorist threats due to the viruses explosive onset. Also due to the mobility of cattle in today's markets, it could bring widespread economic losses to our meat supply in a matter of days if the virus was introduced virtually anywhere in the US, Canada or Mexico.

However that is not what this blog is about .... this blog is about the salesman's malady of opening mouth and inserting foot! Let me explain:

A few days ago I happen to run into a rancher fixing fence along a dirt road down in the Osage. Now I have been trying for this man's business for several years and seen an opportunity here to continue building my relationship with him. Now I had some knowledge of personal facts, one was that he was very proud of his daughter studying in college to be a doctor, so when a very young woman came walking along the fence to where we were talking, I extended my hand in introduction.

"You must be the daughter, Shelly" I said, proud of myself for remembering her name and hoping to impress the rancher. "How's college life?"

"That's my wife, Sarah." was the rather curt correction from the rancher.

OK here was a missed fact, the rancher was divorced and remarried. (And to a much younger woman.) Needless to say I didn't gain any points on that call.

Another similar episode happened when I made a call on a rather young couple with two young children. As the young rancher and I discussed mineral needs for the summer program, his wife joined us carrying coffee. She was clad in tight low riding wranglers and a tight cotton knit shirt covering a protruding midsection.

Not wanting to "overlook" the obvious I stated, "Congratulations! Steve never told me. When are you due?"

"I'm not pregnant." was the icy riposte.

When cattle are diagnosised with foot and mouth disease they are immediately destroyed and the carcasses buried. It's fairly similar with a salesman.

Dennis

Cowboy or Cattleman

2008-04-25T09:20:00.002-05:00

"I'm a cowboy, Pappy!" stated Andrew after returning from feeding the cows, sporting his western style hat.

"A cowboy or a cattleman?" I asked.

"What's the difference?" asked a confused grandson.

Well now at 6 years old, maybe that difference is somewhat a moot point. But for someone like myself (who has spent a lifetime in animal agriculture and in "fly over country") there is a difference. So I set out to explain, "A cowboy is a chosen lifestyle, a cattleman is a profession.

"Cowboys" I went on to explain, "may or may not be in animal agriculture as a profession. They may drive trucks; drill for oil; dig ditches; CEO's of major companies; or may even be president of the United States. Cowboys have as their heroes people like John Wayne, Hoss Cartwright or maybe Will Rogers; men known for standing on the right no matter the consequences and are known for shooting from the hip with extraordinary accuracy. They remove their hats and stand when the flag passes by in review. They'll take off their hats and bow their head when a prayer is said. Their closest kin is a redneck and they're proud of it.

"A cattleman on the other hand is a profession and he is probably a cowboy at heart. He can guess the weight of a steer in an auction ring within 10 lbs before the scale can settle. If he comes up one short on his cow tally, he can look over the group and tell you which one is missing, how many calves she has had and probably what bull she was bred to this year. He goes out in a blizzard to see that the cows are fed, cuts ice holes to see she is watered and works long hours in the heat of summer to keep fences fixed and hay baled. He's not a member of PETA and finds disgusting anyone who believes he would mistreat the animals under his care.

"Huh?" responded Andrew.

Someday he'll understand.

Dennis

PS: To those who wrote emails and left comments recently during my "block" with concerns, suggestions and words of encouragement ... thank you.

Ranching worries

2008-04-23T05:45:00.001-05:00

The facts I am about to tell you are true. Only the names have been changed to protect the innocent ..... that is assuming that at least one of those at the liars table each morning is innocent, which is doubtful.

With inputs such as fertilizer, fuel, feed and mineral prices reaching all time highs, talk around the liars table at morning coffee has been rather disheartening. Economic losses from cattle are expected to equal or surpass that of the mid 70's when losses were upwards of $200 per head coming out of the feedyards. Losses from the feedyards now are in the $3-400 area, which if you take into account the value of the dollar, is quite similar.

Now for those of you who are historically challenged (or too young to remember) let me reiterate some facts; a long costly war was coming to a close; an election year was approaching; an economic slowdown/recession was the headlines of each paper; fuel had reached an all time high; climatologist of the day were warning of an approaching ice age; Democrats controlled the House and Senate and a Republican was in the White House. (am I having déjà vu?) And the ranchers I now drink coffee with each morning were 20-25 years old and owned nothing.

We now slip from the past to the present: "I should have done something other than cattle ranching!" Clyde said to start the morning session, "I should have been a chicken rancher."

With that statement Chester gave a snort, "You'd made a great chicken rancher! Now why would you want to raise chickens?"

"Well," Clyde began as he defended his statement, "you only feed them until they weigh 4 or 5 pounds instead of 12-1400. So it seems to me you couldn't loose more'n 50 cents a head." That brought a round of nods around the table showing agreement with Clyde's math.

"Nothing preventing you from starting now is there?" asked Chester.

"You know," replied Clyde, "I hadn't thought about that, but there's an idea. Want to pardner with me?"

"Are you serous?" a surprised Chester retorted.

"Now think about it," continued Clyde. "We could get us a few hundred chickens and get them good an fat. Then go on one of those TV info-mercials as a way of selling out our steers."

Chester is now staring at Clyde with a wrinkled brow thinking his rancher buddy has his hat on a little tight. "We could do like that ole boy that's always selling stuff on TV. The 'Wait, that's not all' guy. Put a picture of a steer on there. Tell about all the cuts of beef he'll produce. Price him and then say 'Wait! That's not all. Buy now and get a free chicken!'"

Who knows .... might actually work

Dennis

Writers Block

2008-04-19T08:49:00.001-05:00

It's been a while since I had a post. To those of you who wrote concerned with my well being, I thank you for your concern. To those of you who thought maybe aliens had abducted me, nope, I'm still here. And to those of you who think I AM an alien, the jury is still out on that one. I'm just experiencing a bad case of "writers block". I can't seem to come up with anything to write about, idea to expound on and even the Warden has been being nice to me for a change.

I have considered topics with such titles as "Spring Fever or Spring Fervor", "The Political Abyss", "Coffee Shop Blues", "Truth and Consequences", "Buy a Beef; Get a Free Chicken" to mention a few. However, after selecting the title and rewriting the first paragraph a dozen or so times, I'd just give up. The words just wouldn't roll.

Now this is concerning to me because I'm a salesman by trade and any salesman at a loss of words and ideas soon get's hungry! I have to have an idea to take to a producer based on what I know is important to him; pique his interest with particulars, information or details; and then convince him my products will adequately satisfy his situation.

Actually the same thing has to happen when writing a blog if the reader is to finish reading the story and come back. There in lies the problem: I don't know what's important to the readers of this blog. Therefore I use the "shotgun" approach hoping that one shot will hit the bull's eye occasionally. (And there is no greater example of the shotgun approach than this blog!)

I have written a wide variety of stories; some truthful, some emotional, some with embellished facts and some total fabrications. I have written concerning politics, work experiences, friends, family and marriage. I have written at times to try to rouse sentiment and thought; to generate comedy and delight; and at times to create a testimonial with absurdity or wittiness.

Now comes the reason for this blog (as in the sales cycle, you ask for the order). I am asking for your help; please leave me a comment at the bottom of this blog so that I might write things that are more fitting to your desires.

Dennis

Finally, a diet you can stick to!

2008-03-02T05:52:00.002-06:00

Since 1997, my employment has required little or no physical exertion. I spend my days behind a windshield or on the phone or perhaps at some sort of meeting all of which require little exercise. This and the normal aging process has left me defeated in the battle of the bulge.

The Warden has in recent years begin to struggle with me against this wearisome and natural malady. All too often the question arises, "does this dress make me look fat?" Every married man has or will hear that at least once in his married life. The truthful answer would be, "no, your fat makes you look fat". But, I firmly suggest that all men use the 1/2 truth and stop at "no".

We have tried to "count calories" together. This should be called the "starvation diet". Trying to live a normal life on 1300 calories is an impossibility. It might work if you were chained in a dungeon somewhere. But try to sit down with any rancher at his kitchen table to discuss business and his wife will offer a cup of coffee AND ___?___. You can fill in the blank here with multiple possibilities; slice of pie, cookies, home made cinnamon rolls or her grandmothers famous recipe for "I don't know what it's called but it's good". (One of those things and you need a calculator to count the calories) Anyway we tried, became discouraged trying to stay on it and lost little or no weight.

We have tried the "low fat" diet. Now this might as well be called the "cardboard diet" cause that's what everything taste like when you don't butter it or put gravy on it! Now this of course leaves out such things as; chicken fried steak ala carte, bacon/cheese burgers or the "hot hamburger" which is famous at cowboy restaurants (an open faced hamburger covered over with french fries and white cream gravy). These my friend are staples of life! Anyway we tried, became discouraged trying to stay on it and lost little or no weight.

Then there was the "you can eat it if it's green" diet. If you're not careful on this diet you'll grow long ears and hop around cause there is nothing that fits except for rabbit food. Now I do like salads .... if there's enough Thousand Island dressing on it! It finally got so bad that the green mold on two week old bread was beginning to look good. Anyway we tried, became discouraged trying to stay on it and lost little or no weight.

But I think I am fixing to start a new diet ..... it's the "rocky road ice-cream and Snickers bar" diet. I figure the Warden will join me and just like the other diets, we won't loose any weight .... but we dang sure won't be discouraged trying to stay on it!!

Dennis

I've figured it out.

2008-02-24T05:59:00.000-06:00

Reading or listening to the news today is always a downer. We're always one day away from a disaster of some sort. The economy is fixing to tank, global warming, protesters on the march burning buildings or some political figure is being brought up on fraud charges (OK some things never change!). But anyway, you get the drift.

Remember the headlines of years ago? Man Walks On Moon. Man Gets Heart Transplant. New records being set everyday, amazing discoveries in science or some marvelous advance in medicine. We were constantly achieving new heights, discovering new things, coming up with new ideas.

Well I think I know why everything is dismal these days!

The invention of Mr. Coffee!

Now maybe you are having a little problem figuring out the connection .. but think about it! We now "drip" our coffee rather than "perk it"! I even went to www.dictionary.com to check out my hypothesis and here is my finding:

drip: an unattractive, boring, or colorless person

perk: to act, or carry oneself, in a jaunty manner

I'm telling ya ...... we need to revolt and dig out those old percolators and our problems would be over!

Dennis

Protesting the Protesters

2008-02-18T21:18:00.003-06:00

A few days back, The Drudge Report had an article (click here) stating in part:

"Hey-hey, ho-ho, the Marines in Berkeley have got to go. That's the message from the Berkeley City Council, which voted 6-3 Tuesday night to tell the U.S. Marines that its Shattuck Avenue recruiting station "is not welcome in the city, and if recruiters choose to stay, they do so as uninvited and unwelcome intruders."

Well that sort of ruffled a few feathers among the coffee drinkers at the Stockman Cafe who heard about it. Now admittedly here in "fly over" country we don't have access to the national news cameras but we do have the ability to write a letter. So it was unanimously agreed that we send a letter to the Berkeley City Council. That letter is as follows:

By Proclamation and Decree,

We, the undersigned; being citizens of these United States of America, being citizens of the State of Kansas, being coffee drinkers of the Stockman’s Café, do announce and declare that the Berkley CA City Council members and the entire membership of Code Pink Organization shall be unwelcome as clientele at the Stockman’s Café and shall not park in the front of said café.

Furthermore. We, the undersigned; being citizens of these United States of America, being citizens of the State of Kansas, being coffee drinkers of the Stockman’s Café do offer and extended a welcome and thankful hand to any member of the United States Armed Services whether of current duty, honorably discharged, or of retired status.

Signed this 16th day of February, 2008 and sealed with this coffee stain.

All who came in that morning signed with pride and the letter will be sent via US Mail. We're not really expecting a phone call anytime soon with an apology or begging to be "reinstated" but it does feel good just signing and sending!

Dennis

Coffee shop talk

2008-01-23T03:42:00.001-06:00

Several times a week I stop in at the Stockman's Cafe for coffee. Several area ranchers, cowboys and local loafers meet there every morning before sun-up to discuss local events, politics, livestock markets, feed and fertilizer prices, the agriculture economy in general and wives. And if it's one of those days when some area rancher is shipping cattle or processing calves, you best be there early or you don't get a chair.

Now when it comes to the presidential political race, the Stockman Cafe's caucus hasn't determined a winner yet. The only general agreement is that Hillary Clinton will not receive an endorsement. As far as the other runners, it's really a crap shot .... using real crap.

In recent weeks, with agriculture input prices reaching all time record highs and cattle prices slipping, the talk is not "if the cattle will loose money" but rather worry over how much they will loose. Although farmers and ranchers are generally optimistic individuals the near term outlook is weighing heavily on the minds of those with hundreds of thousands of dollars invested as well as years of hard work.

But even with the turmoil in the markets the atmosphere is jovial and always light hearted. The other morning for instance, I was a little late and was being chided for having to fix the Warden's breakfast before coming to coffee.

One grizzled old rancher said, "around my house it's the wife who fixes breakfast. I make sure she does every morning before I leave out." We all sipped our coffee and admired his authoritative stance.

Then a local loafer asked, "What was for breakfast this morning?"

"Cheerios" was the response. "But sometimes she fixes Special K." Then he added "And she said if I wanted a hot breakfast, she could stick it in the microwave."

So for a few moments anyway, the worries of the livestock industry gave way to grins and laughter.

Dennis

Tender Moments

2008-01-06T08:28:00.001-06:00

Feeling somewhat dejected with no morning emails I went to wake the Warden this morning, knowing she could lift me from my doldrums. As I walked to the bedroom I turned on the radio thinking also some good music would help with the low dismal feelings I was having.

I gently touched her shoulder as is my practice to wake her each morning. She rolled over and looked up at me. As she blinked the sleep away from her eyes she said, "That song reminds me of you."

Well I hadn't even been listening, so I turned my attention to the radio. They were playing a song I was unfamiliar with, "You are my dream." A smile crossed my face as a certain amount of exuberance swept the dismal feelings from my mind.

My mind swept back though our years together; the dating, the college years, the raising of kids, the struggles to pay bills, the hard times, the good times. I thought back over the last few weeks with the gathering of family and friends. I thought of the laughter and joking; the hugs; the butterfly kisses of the grand kids.

My heart now joyous. I reached down and took her hand. "That song really makes you think of me?" I asked to clarify my now joyous disposition, "I'm really your dream?"

"Without a doubt" she exclaimed as she rolled to her side. "You're my worst nightmare. Now let me sleep a little longer!"

Dennis

aka known as Charlie Brown

T'was the night before ......

2007-12-24T05:40:00.001-06:00

T'was the night before Christmas,

or maybe it twasn't,

For it's bearing on this story,

matter it doesn't!

For each family reunion,

the gathering of the hoard,

There's just one thing,

that gets my gourd!

The Warden cleans the house

inside and out,

Until everything is spotless

there is no doubt!

"Why?" I ask

"You know it won't last!"

"Don't you remember,

what happened in the past?"

"Quite your complaining

and grab a broom"

"When your done there,

there's one more room!"

And if that isn't enough,

we must feed the brood.

To feed that bunch,

takes a ton of food!

A side of beef,

an acre of potatoes.

And don't forget,

a bushel of tomatoes!

Two days of cooking,

the Warden finally sighs,

But keeps watching me,

with wary eyes.

"Get your finger out of there,

that's for tomorrow!"

So I hang my head,

and walk away in sorrow.

The day finally comes,

with all it's clatter,

The saying of grace,

and passing the platter.

Glasses turn over,

spilling to the floor.

Even mashed potatoes

are found stuck to the door.

Dinner now over,

nothing left to devour,

Plates licked clean

not even enough to sour!

Then like a tornado,

a storm that looms,

The devastation now spreads

to the other rooms.

Bristle blocks, toy trucks,

dolls and so much more,

These are found strewn

all over the floor.

Naps are attempted,

but never attained.

It would be simpler,

to keep an atomic blast contained.

The aroma from the kitchen,

the Wardens cornbread and stew,

Now replaced by the smell

of diapers and hinny wipes too.

The day finally ends,

the mayhem completed.

We stand at the backdoor,

hugs, kisses and I love you's repeated.

I extend my hand

and give a last wave,

Wondering in my mind

if the house we can save.

The Warden gives a wink,

and I can read her mind,

For she and I

are of a similar kind.

Here I must brag,

I must be bold,

We wouldn't trade that day,

for all the world's gold.

Dennis

My Last Blog and Testament

2007-12-11T04:42:00.000-06:00

Well folks I just thought I had a cold, that is till I read The Drudge Report this morning! It quoted a Washington Post article entitled ....

"Virus Starts Like a Cold But Can Turn Into a Killer"

Now naturally I had to read THAT one ... seeing as how my well being might be in jeopardy!

There they quoted an expert in infectious diseases, a David N. Gilbert (now it doesn't mention him being a doctor .... but I assume he is ... or possibly a local quack ... but none the less). He had noticed an unusual number of patients, "including young, vigorous adults" were coming down with pneumonia.

The article went on to quote Gilbert ..."What was so striking was to see patients who were otherwise healthy be just devastated," Gilbert said. Within a day or two of developing a cough and high fever, some were so sick they would arrive at the emergency room gasping for air. My symptoms exactly! (well except for the emergency room) When I woke the Warden this morning to tell her I was sick .... she said, "take a couple aspirin and wake me in the morning". She has a terrible bedside manner.

As I read more of the article it stated, "1,035 Americans in four states have been infected so far this year by the virus". That number has increased to 1,036 because there is no doubt in MY mind that I got it!

Then the article quoted a CDC disease investigator and said, "What people need to understand is that there is a virus out there that can make you very, very sick," Su said. (No S*** Sherlock!) "If you have a bad cold and your symptoms keep getting worse, go see your doctor. (This man is an utter genius!) This is nothing to be necessarily alarmed about." (Then why the article?)

The article even quoted a survivor. "At first I thought it was just the flu," Spencer said. "But then it was the worst feeling I ever had. I felt so miserable. I really felt like I was dying." Yep, that's my symptoms! And he spent 8 weeks in the hospital with it. I better call Fred and ask for the day off!

The article concluded, "Are we going to have another huge outbreak, or will it disappear?" Gilbert said. "We just don't know." Well I'm sure glad he cleared that up for me!

So if in the next few days you read of my demise, you can tell the Warden she should have been more sympathetic to me because I had the "adenovirus".

Dennis

Energy Dependent

2007-12-01T13:06:00.001-06:00

This morning I got up at my usual 3 AM. I knew it was going to be a good day. I walked to the kitchen and started my coffee perking (or dripping or what ever they do these days), then walked to the man lair. I started my computer and listened to the hum of the hard drive as Windows Vista began to load.

I could hear the rain dripping off the roof as the first winter storm of the season blew outside. "HA HA" I think to myself, no outside work today! A whole day in the man lair! The perfect Saturday!

Poof! The lights went out! It was so dark it was like being in a cave! I sat for maybe a minute before the lights came back on. It's this way every year ... the first storm will always find all the weak links in the rural electrical grid.

I knew that I would need to restart the coffee and reset the clocks, so I set about that task; microwave, stove, TV, video tape player and finally the coffee maker (I didn't realize that we had so many clocks!)

I walked back to the man lair and hit the power button on the computer. Whir. Blink blink.

Poof! Out they went again! So I sat patiently for maybe 5 minutes .. nothing. Well I finally decided to go find a flashlight. Now finding a flashlight in the dark is like looking for your glasses when you need them to see anyway!

I groped all around the man lair and could find nothing. Working my way to the door (and stubbing my toe a few times) I proceeded to find the kitchen. There on the cabinet I was able to find one without first slicing my hand open on a sharp object.

Now I had light! I shined the light on the coffee pot to see if there had been enough time for at least ONE cup. No such luck. So now what was I going to do to pass the time while I waited patiently for the electricity to come back on? No computer. No TV. I couldn't even read a book by this flash light. (Coal oil lanterns would have put out MUCH more light!)

I located my PDA. Since it ran on batteries, I decided to catch up on my notes from work the past week. After finishing that (and still no electricity) I played the few games that are installed there till finally the batteries ran down. I looked at my watch 5:05.

With no electricity for nearly 2 hours .... which of course means no heat ... it's beginning to get a little chilly. OK I think to myself, the Stockman's cafe is on another utility company so they should have heat AND coffee by now. I locate my wranglers and head into the garage. I hit the button to raise the garage door.

Sheesh, I think to myself ... but being the resourceful fellow that I am, I remember the pickup was left parked outside. So I head out the front door. Since the Warden is still sleeping I lock the front door behind me. I reach into my pocket for the keys when it hits me ... they are hanging on the key rings by the door into the garage.

With the front door locked, I walk around the house to the back door, rain dripping off the brim of my hat. Walking through the house I retrieve the pickup keys then return through the rain to the pickup. I drive the 5 miles to the Stockman's cafe and see the welcome lights of the coffee shop.

Not many are there at this time of the morning, but as I walk in, Mr. Holt starts pouring me a big hot cup of coffee. Just as he sits the cup down in front of me ... POOF the lights go out!

So much for a perfect Saturday!

Dennis

Reflective mood

2007-11-22T06:04:00.001-06:00

Sometimes a guy has to sit and reflect on life; what's really important; things or events that have shaped his/her status in life; dreams of things to come. And here at Thanksgiving, those things are more apt to come to mind ..... even though they should continually be there. This was unexpectedly emphasized to me the other night by the Warden.

We went out for supper and were doing the normal man/wife chat, you know the drill: what bills are we going to be able to pay; taxes are due; work problems; somebody died; what needs fixing around the house; the noise the car is making; etc etc. Then I noticed an older couple across the restaurant from us.

"Sug," I said, (I always say Sug when I want her to hold on to my every word) "Look at that older couple over there" nodding my head to the side so as not to stare. "That'll be us in another 10 or 15 years."

I looked at the Warden thoughtfully and said, "They are probably reflecting on the years they have had or making plans for their remaining years."

"Just think of the changes they have seen in their lives. The dreams that have come to fruition. The plans that became unattainable or unimportant." I continued with my reflection, "they've probably seen a world of change since they started out; social changes, political changes, technological changes."

"When their kids were born, they probably didn't worry as much about stuff as people have to now" I resumed after a short pause. "They've probably watched their kids grow up and leave the nest to start their own families. They probably don't have a real worry anymore."

I ended my observation with a firm tone. "They're probably just enjoying their station in life now, going over how things have come together for them and all their blessings. They've got it made! Not a worry in the world!"

"Dear," the Warden said as she took another bite of her supper, "you best clean your glasses and take another look. That wall across the restaurant is a mirror and you are looking at us."

nuff said

Dennis

A rare opportunity

2007-11-17T07:17:00.000-06:00

Well as many of you know, the Warden and I undertook some remodeling this past few months. What started out as a very simple suggestion ended up as a major undertaking. But with the end at least in sight .. the finished product does enhance the needs of our growing family, especially during a family gathering. We plan to put it to use this next week when kids, family and friends all gather around the turkey and dressing. At last report, there is suppose to be 22 here for dinner! (sure hope the Warden has enough turkey!)

But one of the major improvements in the reconstruction phase, was the addition of the "Man Lair". (that's lair not liar!) As you well know, I lost my "office" in the expansion phase of the living-room and was destined to a corner nook there. However I stood my ground (ok, so I begged, pleaded and groveled .. but it still worked) and took over the Warden's craft room.

Once inside the steel reinforced door, (which requires voice recognition, retina scans and finger prints to open) the room is filled with study books of all kinds, scanners, 2 printers and 3 computers all hooked together on a wireless network with an open end to the world wide web via a cable modem. (click here for a rare opportunity to view inside) My new Toshiba laptop (with Home Vista) has an additional 22 inch widescreen monitor (where I can now blow-up things enough for me to actually read!) This bunker has been well designed to help promote digital creativity (as well as a hideout when the Warden has something for me to do!)

Dennis

I had a thought

2007-09-02T05:43:00.000-05:00

This all started back in April and sounded simple at the time. The Warden was standing in the south door of my spacious computer room, looking at the north wall which adjoined the living room. "I had a thought."she said, then asked "Can we move that wall in by 4 feet? And close that north door? It would add greatly to the size of the living room for family gatherings."

I quickly surveyed the room with a wary eye. "Well we would have to move your desk and computer out, but it would work." I responded, beginning to plan for a smaller, yet ALL MINE, private retreat. "But I don't know how much that would cost" I added as my frugality took over my dreams of my own personal "man lair".

"I'll find a carpenter to come look at it and give us an estimate" she said as she left the room.

I said "OK." An open ended agreement is never a good idea.

One evening that week she said the carpenter had been by to give her a bid, "The bid was so cheap, that I had a thought." She continued "I asked him if he could also find time to put down some laminate flooring in the kitchen and dining area while he is here."

The bid wasn't bad for the two projects, so I said "OK." This is where I should have retained a lawyer and written up a contract.

A few days later over supper, the Warden said, "I had a thought. We could remove that fireplace and have the carpenter fix the wall at the same time."

Again I answered, "OK." (reference here back to the lawyer contract statement)

I will shorten the story by a few pages and forget more details to the project planning. The end result is that we have removed an unused fireplace, taken out the carpet in the dining area, taken out a bar, added cabinets for a pantry on the west wall, inserted 12 feet of new cabinets on the east wall, added a floating kitchen island, a new dishwasher, a trash compactor, new kitchen counter tops and wall to wall walnut laminate flooring with a 30 year warranty against scratches!

Wait you might ask, what happened to your computer room wall?

There are now NO WALLS in my ex-computer room, making the living room very spacious. Spacious enough for a new couch, two new recliners, one new straight back chair, a corner (triangle shaped) desk, two hanging lamps for reading and a 42" HD flat panel LCD TV (which I was able to negotiate in.)

But wait! (as they say on those TV commercials) That's not all! We are presently waiting on an electrician to come add a new circuit to the master bath and bedroom. There we have removed one of the two entrance doors to the bedroom and are adding a new vanity and cabinets to the master bath.

Oh! And I almost forgot! The roofers will be here in October to put on the new roofing with those 30 year gray Heritage shingles!

You might be wondering by now where my computer space ended up. I will soon be sharing the Warden's "craft" room! Sitting there on my computer amid the crochet thread, scrap-booking material and potted plant fertilizer.

I really must sign off now and start looking for the name of a good lawyer, the Warden just walked by and said, "I had a thought...."

Dennis

August is just not my month

2007-08-15T21:28:00.000-05:00

Last year in August was my first time in a hospital gown. (August 2006) Today I donned one again. And it even started last year on a follow-up call for my surgery ... supposedly as an office call to remove some "skin lesions" (what us Rednecks call moles). To make a long story short, what was suppose to be just a long office call to remove them, ended up as two office calls and a surgical hospital gown!

This time I was set though, I started taking names so I could haunt the nurses if I didn't survive the surgery!

The first nurse I met was Heather. Nice looking young lady and I ask how long she had been a nurse here. "Actually I work in another area of the hospital, I'm just down on this wing as a student." she replied as she handed me the famous bottomless, one size fits all, hospital gown.

"What's this for?" I said, holding up the gown. "The skin lesions are here on my head!" I added pointing to each of them, wanting to make sure THEY KNEW which lumps of skin they were to remove.

"You have to be prepped for any procedure in the OR. Now put it on" she demanded.

"So you are just learning the ropes on the surgical wing?" I said, hoping to befriend this nurse with small talk.

"I am in "Vein Therapy" she relied, "I'll be putting in your IV when I get back." With that, she headed out the door.

BIG RED FLAG! Nurse ... Student ... Needle ... Vein ... Me ... IV ... MINE!

"Oh" I gasped as my heart rate went from 65 to 115 beats per minute.

Heather returned with Susan in tow dragging the tripod with it's needles, hanging bag and tubes. Heather walked to my right side and Susan to the left.

"I assume you are her instructor?" I asked Susan and received a nod of the head.

"And I assume you graduated top in your class?" I inquired needing more reassurance for the coming experiment, receiving another not-quite-so-convincing nod.

"Where did you go to class?" I questioned, still needing more reassurance.

"KSWCF" was her answer.

"I never heard of that. Where is it?"

"Kansas State Women's Correctional Facility at Hutchinson" she said with a slight smile. "Nurse shortage. You can get a job anywhere these days."

I started to run but she grabbed my left arm and Heather my right and started poking. After several attempts and no blood (at least in the needle) we changed hands! Several more attempts there, same results! So we moved up the arm and finally hit pay-dirt but by this time I have little blood soaked cotton balls and tape covering my hands.

"Heather," I sobbed, "I'm sure not giving you an A plus."

But with mission accomplished, they "high five" each other and head out of the room.

Soon the door opens and the familiar "ladies in green" show up to take me down the hall. The head one starts telling me of the sedation procedure and surgical procedure that will be involved. She assures me that the doctor does an excellent job but then they both snickered.

"How long will I be out?" I ask.

"Well this is a fairly mild sedative. You really won't be very out of it. But you won't remember much when you come out of it" was her reply.

"So what you're telling me is that I'll still be in pain .... I just won't remember it?"

"Yeah. Pretty much."

Well I can't recall much after that, it's all a little fuzzy. But I do remember walking out to the car with Heather. As we walked through the lobby, there was a guy giving my stitch covered, Frankenstein looking head a serious look. Heather, seeing his concerned look, just pointed at me and said "Lobotomy."

Next August I am avoiding the hospital for a vacation spot somewhere!

Dennis

PS the facts here might be slightly skewed since the sedation did play havoc with my already diminishing memory

The amazing brain

2007-07-15T08:16:00.001-05:00

Yesterday, on the return trip from Columbia, MO, I marveled at functionality of the brain. While passing a line of trucks at 70 mph on I-70, the one I was beside decided to merge into my lane. The brain had to receive the information through the eyes, process the data, decide on the best approach to prevent an accident and carry out the resolution.

Literally thousands of bodily functions were logically taking place due to this stimulus. In a few milliseconds, I steered to the left just to the edge of the pavement, checked the rearview mirror for secondary threats, brake and hit the horn. My brain was also processing the grass median for objects to avoid if I had to go into it. My heart rate increased along with my respiration and both my hands gripped the steering wheel. I noticed at the same time the Warden's hands reaching for the dashboard as she braced for impact, the flushed face and the gasp of fear. All people have a logical path to avoid dangerous situations.

This might be called the "fear and flight" scenario. Processes born out of experience, training and the need for natural preservation. Next came the "anger and fight" scenario when the threat was over but it was short lived due to the fact I couldn't get my hands around that truck drivers neck, so I settled for a few chosen words.

Much later and almost home we waited beside a flagman on a two lane highway as a utility truck setup a new telephone pole beside the road. The Warden and I watched as the various specialty and bucket trucks put men dangerously close to the live lines. My brain was processing the immediate danger to the linemen who were working right beside high voltage electrical lines.

Then the Warden, who was watching as intently as I, said, "Scholar bowl."

My brain went into an immediate reboot sequence. "Huh?"

"Watching that made me remember that I had some scholar bowl stuff to finish before school starts" she said matter-of-factly.

My brain was still trying to reboot. "How did that remind you of scholar bowl?" I asked, hoping for some starting reference in my reboot process.

"The telephone pole made me think of phone. Phone made me think of megaphone. Megaphone -cheerleader. Cheerleader-school. School-scholar bowl!" She answered as if everyone could follow the logical path.

I sat gripping the steering wheel, staring at the flagman who was frantically waving me to move on, my foot pushing on the brake and my brain somewhere between overload and shutdown.

I guess all brains don't work quite the same out side the danger zone.

Dennis

A house full of kids

2007-07-08T06:02:00.001-05:00

Yesterday I made a flying roundtrip to Columbia, MO to pick up Ruth and my newest granddaughter Tess (who are going to spend a weeklong vacation with us). Upon our return, we found the rest of the clan waiting, a welcome home and a house full of kids. So I beg of you at this time (as Paul did the Corinthian church), let me "do a little bragging". As I wrote in an earlier brag blog, let me tell you about my favorite grandkid.

The oldest and boldest.

Andrew and Faith (both 5 going on 25), being the oldest siblings of their respective clans, have most of the answers to the worlds problems. They of course can make these decisions based on their extensive life experiences. Their only need of the adult world is for the adult to reach something on the top shelf or to drive since they don't have their license yet..

Double trouble.

Aaron and Luke, (both 2) are constantly looking for something to get into. The family can be sitting and visiting when the question arises, "Where's Luke?" This is immediately followed by, "Where's Aaron?" (those two questions are interchangeable in order). Then there is an immediate flurry of activity, very similar to the flush of a covey of quail, as everyone scatters to find where the two are and what they are up to.

Weesome threesome.

Adah, Micah and Tess (10 months to 2 months) are of course still in the limelight with snuggles, coos and dirty diapers. In each case, personalities are beginning to emerge. I theorize them this way; Adah, wide-eyed and observant as if to say "Mama, did you see what they did?" Micah, smiling and always looking around to see where the others are, "It's OK mom, I survived the last time!" And Tess who lives the furthest from the group, quiet with wondering eyes, "Mom, are you sure I am kin to them?"

My oldest grandson Jacob (17) was unavailable, so he gets to escape this blogging!

Dennis (and proud Pappy)

PS click on the images and they will appear larger. Use the "back" button to return to the blog.

Update ....

2007-06-30T07:43:00.001-05:00

Well I must update my previous early morning blog-post since going to the Stockman's Cafe for some coffee. Skip (who records daily rainfall for the local weather forecasters in Wichita) said that the "official" for Cambridge KS this past week would be over 12 inches ... over 23 inches for the month of June ..... and over 43 inches for April, May and June. I reckon it's making up for last year.

Dennis

And the weather forecast is .......

2007-06-30T05:22:00.001-05:00

RAIN AGAIN ....... 80% on Saturday and 50% on Sunday

Well one thing about Kansas, we have great averages. Last summer was one of the hottest and driest on record .... so far this summer, one of the wettest and coolest. But take a governmental style statistical average .... we're perfect!

Yesterday, in my "feedsales" adventures, I had to pick and choose which road I took because of high water. Not only the country gravel roads but also some major KS and US highways. Low lying areas looked like lakes. Those farmers with good bottomland for crops were wishing they had upland this year.

One rancher I was talking to, had tried to swath some hay in a low area a couple days back. The rains came and the "babbling brook" became a "raging river" which consequentially took his windrows of hay with it. The once straight windrows of fluffy hay were now hanging from fences and the not so low branches of trees that lined the creek. I really didn't know what to say with such a crop loss but in the optimistic view of any rancher/farmer he replied. "I am just hanging my hay out to dry!"

Now our average rainfall in this area is 33-35 inches a year. That's not quite 3 inches per month. And this year ..... just in June and not counting April and May ... (as recorded by the USGS in Elk Falls KS) we have received over 16 inches .... 10 of which came the last 7 days. (click here if you don't believe me)

But the spirit of the KS rancher/farmer remains undaunted. As one rancher put it, "I would much rather put in water gaps than haul water!"

However, for any who maybe reading this, if you know of a good supply of gopher wood give me a call just in case it KEEPS raining.

Dennis

PS How long is a cubit?

Cordless or clueless?

2007-06-23T05:41:00.001-05:00

This last car the Warden and I purchased has keyless entry. Now I think this is a marvelous invention! Not only does it lock and unlock your car but also beeps the horn so you can find your car in a Wal-Mart parking lot!! I think this technology should be added to such things as cordless phones and TV remotes!

Around the KSCowboy household there are 4 cordless phones and a TV remote (we are a technologically affluent household). However this technology may also cause the break-up of a 35 year old marriage!!! Let me explain. Here is how a "typical" day happens:

6:45 AM I head out the door as the Warden sips her coffee in her easy chair. I hand her the TV remote so she can watch the news as she relaxes.

7:00 She decides to empty the dish washer and as she is putting up the dishes, the phone rings. The Warden answers the cordless kitchen phone and talks with her Peoria daughter as she puts the dishes in the cabinet. Her conversation ends and she leaves the phone in the cabinet with the coffee cups. Finished with the dishes, she returns to her easy chair for a last cup of coffee and the last segments of Fox and Friends.

7:15 the cordless phone beside her chair rings. The Warden grabs the remote, punches the off button and proceeds with the conversation. Its her oldest daughter who wants her to go to town with her. The Warden says she can be at her house by 8 AM and heads to the bathroom. She lays the TV remote in the linen closet as she grabs a towel still making plans with her daughter on the cordless phone. Plans all made, she lays the cordless phone on the back of the commode as she steps into the shower.

7:30 the cordless phone again rings as the Warden dries her hair. Quickly she grabs the cordless phone by the bed and discusses the days plan with her middle daughter, all the while primping in the mirror. The days plans all discussed, the Warden lays the phone down in the dresser drawer as she grabs a pair of socks.

7:45 I call just as the Warden is walking through the living room. She quickly picks up the cordless phone by my easy chair as she heads through the house. I tell her I will be home around 4:30 because of a canceled meeting. She tells me she is meeting Becky at 8 and that she is running behind. She will be home around 5 and will call to tell me what to take out for supper. She lays the cordless phone on the dryer as she heads out the back door.

4:15 PM I enter the house, glad to be home and ready to relax in my easy chair and watch Home Improvement which starts at 4:30. I look for the remote by her chair. A little miffed, I search under her chair, between the cushions, in the trash can by her chair, in the cushions of the couch, under the couch and all around the remainder of the living room.

4:45 Steaming by now, I decide I'll just forget TV. I walk into the office and the phone rings. I walk to my easy chair to grab the phone. Nothing. I cross the room to get the one by her chair. Nothing. By now the phone has rang four times and I make a mad dash for the bedroom phone. Nothing. The phone now stops ringing and I figure the voice mail will pick up any needed message. I return to the office, prop up my feet on the desk and see if I have any email to read.

5:00 the phone again starts ringing and I head into the bedroom rechecking each phone-less cradle, scanning dresser tops, into the living room scanning every available surface big enough to lay a phone on and finally run for the kitchen to get the last phone. Nothing. Red-faced, I return to my office.

5:15 the Warden enters the office and with hands on hips says, "I've been trying to call, why didn't you answer the phone? Now supper will be late!" ........ and it's down hill from there.

Dennis

My favorite grandkid

2007-06-09T06:50:00.001-05:00

As many of you know, my family is very rapidly expanding. I now have 8 grandkids (7 under the age of 5 1/2) 4 boys and 4 girls. Now that's bragging rights in ANYONE'S eyes and I keep pictures on my PDA so that I can brag to anyone that feels they can challenge my rights as the most blessed man alive.

The other day I ran into a "granddad" with his grandson riding shotgun in his feed pickup. I of course had to brag on my newest arrivals. He too had several but then went to bragging that this one was his favorite because he was someday going to take over the family ranch. Then he asked me a very odd question, "Which one is your favorite?"

Well now I had to stop and think about that for a few seconds. Then starting with grandson number one I proceeded through my digital photo album to granddaughter number 8 explaining why each was my favorite. My reasons include such descriptive adjectives as smiles, cuddling, orneriness, twinkling eyes, maturity, personality, curiosity and the list goes on.

"Yeah" he said, "but one will win your heart."

As I drove away, I was sadden to think of "limited love". That love could be metered out or that a heart only had so much love and once it was "used up" there was no more.

Later that day I ran into another "granddad". Anytime you get two granddads together, there is always something to talk about, so we exchanged our mutual brags. I then shared with him the story from my former meeting.

He too shook his head in disbelief and said, "I'm sure glad I have a heart like the jar of flour and jug of oil that the widow of Zarephath had. But then you have to believe in the Lord for it to work."
(1 Kings 17:14-16)

As I left that grandpa I had a much better feeling for the day and knew that, even though I am the most blessed man in the world, there are some that are close seconds.

Dennis

35 years today

2007-05-20T05:20:00.001-05:00

Last week in my excursions around the country, I was talking to a young cowboy who mentioned he and his wife were going to celebrate their second anniversary this coming Sunday. When I mentioned that Sunday was also my anniversary, he asked what the secret was to a long marriage. Well I didn't have an answer for him right off, so I gave him the address to this blog and said check it Sunday night. So this post is primarily for him. The rest of you who read this must understand it is similar to a "Dear Abby" column and a specific question.

First of all there must be agreements between you. The Warden and I came to agreement long ago that whoever left first had to take the kids. (I mean what good is the single life if you are toting around three kids? You're still broke!) So that worked for about the first 25 years and then we made a second agreement that whoever left first had to take the house mortgage and that's been working for the last ten.

Secondly you have to learn to say those three little words. "I was wrong" or "You were right". These two phrases are interchangeable and should be used often. Best results are received if you use the two phrases together, "I was wrong and you were right!" However, never under any circumstances should you get the pronouns mixed up and say "you were wrong and I was right!" The resulting mayhem is much worse than global warming .... actually might have some bearing on global warming because things are gonna get pretty hot!

Thirdly you have to learn to treat the wife as an equal. You do this by learning to cook, clean house and do the dishes. Now my expertise is breakfast but I have learned a few extras by watching Rachael Ray on the cooking channel and I got a few good cleaning tips from Hints to Heloise.

Also having a pet name for your spouse helps show affection and endearment. As you have noticed I affectionately call my wife "the Warden".

Last and not least, don't let the spark go out.
Remember why you married her and think of it often.

May 20, 1972

Dennis

Mother's Day

2007-05-12T18:42:00.001-05:00

At the Stockman's Cafe this past winter a discussion arose that stuck in my mind. It was during a particularly cold time when calving season and bitter cold collided. The discussion was about cows that are either "good mothers" or "bad mothers". This of course played a tremendous role on the survival of the new born calf in the very bitter conditions. Some cows will find a good sheltered draw out of the wind, have her calf with temperatures well below zero and save the calf. She'll nuzzle, lick and moo at him until he gets up and nurses. Some cows won't.

That got me thinking (which might scare some of you) about nature and mothers. I once seen a hen take on a coyote to protect her chicks while the other hens scattered; watched as some cats brought food back to the kittens while other cats stood at the bowl and meowed to be fed; seen some sows build "nest" when they were getting ready to farrow while others laid in the mud to stay cool. Some just have a natural "mothering" ability.

Now I know women don't like to be compared to hens or cats (and especially not cows and sows), but it's true, there are good mothers and bad mothers in the human race too. All one needs to do is sit at a mall somewhere and watch for a few minutes, you'll see the difference quickly. I was fortunate enough to be blessed with a good mom.

Mom taught me to laugh. I can still see her start snickering when she would see or hear something funny. And if the "funny" kept going she would break out in a full blown "ha ha". Then she'd get red-faced and embarrassed and go to fanning her self.

Mom taught me to squirrel hunt. We'd walk the woods after the leaves were off the trees and she'd point them out for me. Then she'd tell me how to sight him and would give all sorts of encouragement especially if I missed.

Mom wasn't afraid of spanking us kids either. As a matter of fact she gave me my last spanking when I was in junior high. I still remember it quite well, don't remember exactly what I done, but do remember I KNEW I had it coming!! A few times I remember Mom sending me to bed without any supper. Then a couple hours later my older brother would show up with a piece of cake or a couple of cookies (Mom would never bring it herself because that would have been going against the punishment!)

Mom taught me hospitality. Never was she inhospitable to anyone. No matter who us kids or Dad would come dragging home, she'd make them feel like family. And if they left hungry, it was their own fault cause she could cook. Whether it was a picnic at Bolin Bridge or a family dinner with all the trimin's there was always room for one more.

Mom also taught me to sing. She had a wonderful alto voice and us kids grew up on four part southern gospel music. Some of her favorite hymns were written by Albert E Brumley who was sort of a shirt-tail relation. His songs included I'll Fly Away, Did You Ever Go Sailing, If We Never Meet Again and many more. There are a few songs I have trouble singing today because it opens the floodgates of memories.

Mom has gone home now, but the lessons she taught us will forever live within each of us kids and all that she met. I truly was a blessed man to have a mother with natural "mothering" ability.

Dennis

Addendum: Not only was I blessed with a great mother, but I was blessed with a wife who also had that natural mothering ability. And her daughters are following closely in her footsteps.

Memories

2007-04-29T05:36:00.001-05:00

Last weekend the Warden and I went for a quick visit to Dad's house and thoroughly enjoyed the slower pace. And I enjoyed some trips down memory lane with a visit to "the farm" where I grew up (although the house no longer stands) and a stop at Bolin Bridge where many a hot afternoon was spent.

The urban expansion in that area of the country however is phenomenal and does detract from the visual remembrances. Old homesteads, with barns and chicken houses have been replaced with two story condominiums and cow pastures divided into multiple lots with 1/4 to 1/2 million dollar homes. The traffic on the old two lane highway to the farm now rivals that of many metropolises but without the added security of traffic lights and multiple lanes. That is until you turn off onto the rough dirt road the last leg of the trip to the farm. The major change there is the street sign which now names the road. What use to be "route 2" is now Fruitwood Drive. I consider myself most fortunate to have grown up there before the urban sprawl.

Back then there was time to "cool off" in the cold water down at Bolin Bridge. The water was clear and the bridge made a good diving platform and some one usually tied a rope up in a tree so you could swing out and do "cannon balls". There was always a few old inner tubes to float around in and see who could flip the other out of theirs. On occasion we would take a watermelon or two, juicy and red, for an afternoon snack and let the juice drip down on your belly as you ate it right off the rind. And then after you were all sticky and drawing flies, you'd head back to the swimming hole to wash off the excess.

It seems to me there was always a passel of people there at any given time and if anybody drove by they'd stop and visit for a few minutes. If you were eating, they'd stop and have a bite. If we done chores early and went in the late afternoon, we'd have a weenie roast and maybe some soda pop's floating in a washtub with a chunk of ice to keep them cool (my favorite was a NeHi grape ... I wonder if they still even make those). To top off the evening we'd have toasted marshmallows. I'm living proof that high doses of salt and sugar won't kill a kid!

Then after the sun would go down and the mosquitoes begin to bite real good, some of the older kids would begin to tell "ghost stories" that would scare the dickens out of us younger kids. I reckon today that would be against some rule or would cause some sort of psychosis or something, but we survived it.

Every time I drive by a "water park" these days, I think of Bolin Bridge, Blue Hole, Whitebluff, Adriens and all the other swimming holes we had. I watch the kids playing and wonder if they will be able, when they get older, to look back in fondness as I do.

Dennis

Chicken Little and Foxy Loxy

2007-04-15T06:59:00.000-05:00

Do you remember the story of Chicken Little? (A refresher here for those who may have forgotten how the story goes) ... Chicken Little is eating lunch one day under a big oak tree. During her lunch an acorn falls off the tree and hits her on the head. She is convinced that the sky is falling and runs to tell her friends. Most begin to believe her because she does have a bump on her head .. pure evidence that she has been hit from above. There's Henny Penny, Ducky Lucky, Turkey Lurkey and many others who are wailing as much as she, about the sky falling.

Then along comes Foxy Loxy! Now here's a character that uses the situation to gain control over the group and get his next lunch. (OK, now in today's political correct world, I'm sure they have left out that last part ... might scare the kids!) But anyway ..... the moral of the story is that Chicken Little whips the general population into a frenzy .... causing mass hysteria .... about something that isn't happening (or even if it WAS happening, they couldn't do anything about it!) But as the hysteria builds ...... the populace is then controlled by some one who claims (for his own benefit) he has the answers.

Now I ain't the crispiest cracker in the barrel, but it sure looks to me like that's what's happening these days with Global Warming and the speech "humans are causing it". Now I'm not just saying this because we have had one of the coldest winters on record .... or record snowfall the 14th day of April .... look at the total evidence ... don't be Chicken Little!

And as far as Foxy Loxy .... well there are plenty so-called experts making millions off this travesty!

As a matter of fact, the other morning at the coffee shop, Bud said he was going to start selling carbon offsets. He said he had a quarter section he as going to plant trees on to sell to those who felt guilty about their lifestyles and wanted to purchase carbon offsets and be carbon neutral. Then he added "and if it stays this cold, I'll use the trees to sell firewood ... it's a win win for me!"

Dennis

The Father's role

2007-03-24T07:10:00.000-05:00

It's been a while since I posted a new blog, partially because I've been very busy the last six weeks and partially because I just haven't had an idea to write about. So to those of you who wrote to the Warden thinking I was dead, no I am not (even though the Warden says I do smell that way).

At the writing of this, I am sitting on the couch at my baby daughters house waiting on coffee to perk (or what ever coffee's do these days). The Warden and I decided to make a fast visit to see her before she "dominoes" with her first, sometime in later May. And while visiting her, there is a chance that we may receive a call from her next older sister that she has dominoed in our absence with her third. For those of you who may have lost count, that will make 7 grandkids under the age of 5 1/2.

Now I don't guess that qualifies me for a Nobel Peace prize or Academy Award of some kind, but it does make me an expert in birthing preparation stories! And that is the part that has amazed me over the past 5 years. Birthing has changed, the preparation for it and the father's role.

When the Warden and I first got in the "family way" the Doctor said something like this: "You're pregnant", "When contractions are 3 minutes apart, come to the hospital", "The baby comes out here." The fathers duty was to sit in the waiting room, smoke cigars and high five those who were present when the nurse announced the arrival. This was the "natural way" back in the 70's.

Back then the fatherly pre-birth bonding was limited to laying your hand on the distended stomach and feeling the baby move. Now they listen to the heartbeat, watch the baby move around on the sonogram screen and carry sonogram pictures of the "soon-to-be" in their wallets.

The new fathers are now expected to help get their wives in shape for birthing. They wear tee-shirts with "coach" written across the chest, help in breathing techniques and tell their wives when it is time to switch stretching exercises. (I bought my son-in-law a whistle to blow but the daughter said if he did blow it she'd make him eat it. She's a lot like her mother!)

During last night's exercise routine, my daughter told us what muscles each stretching position worked on. Now that's a little TMI to explain in your father's presence! Fathers do NOT need to know about "Keagles".

There is one thing though that I have noticed that has gone unchanged over the years. The new father's pride. They still walk around with chest puffed out, buttons almost popping and act as though they planned the whole thing. I hope that never changes.

There's one question though that I am too embarrassed to ask. With all the changes to the father's role, do they still make babies the same way?

Dennis

Chaos

2007-02-20T18:56:00.001-06:00

Sometimes things happen that bring into memory something from the past. This past weekend I was reminded of a lesson on chaos from a college class years ago. The professor of that class made the statement, "chaos is essential to the universe".

He defined chaos as "a property of some non-linear dynamic systems which exhibit sensitive dependence on initial conditions. This means that there are initial states which evolve within some finite time to states whose separation in one or more dimensions of state space depends, in an average sense, exponentially on their initial separation. Such systems may still be completely deterministic in that any future state of the system depends only on the initial conditions and the equations describing the change of the system with time. It may, however, require arbitrarily high precision to actually calculate a future state to within some finite precision."

Well the redneck version of that is ... chaos is the power that forces an unpredictable outcome to a predictable set of circumstances.

He went on to use the equation of time (T) multiplied by speed (S) will equal distance (D) as proof that we have a predictable outcome. (T x S = D) But if you figure in the blowout of a tire (which would be chaos) then the distance was unpredictable. Further examples of volcanoes, tsunamis and hurricanes were also used as forces of chaos.

Hey the man was a genius!

He then went on to explain that even with chaos, events were somewhat predictable unless another chaotic event happened. (I'm getting lost by this time and probably you are too, but bear with me.) A tsunami's effect is fairly predictable if there is no other chaotic event such as a hurricane, volcano or other event happening at the same time.

You are probably asking "how does that figure into this blog?"

Well let's start with the equation pappy (P) times grandkids (GK) equals a chest swollen with pride (SC). This is as you can see a very predictable outcome. (P x GK = SC)

HOWEVER if you enter in the chaos of "screaming at the top of your lungs" and "running throughout the house at breakneck speed" then the outcome equals pappy blowing his stack! (Very similar here to a volcano erupting to relieve pressure within the earths crust.)

Now back to last weekend, after the Warden's birthday dinner, we had adjourned to the daughters house for cake and ice cream. The grandkids were indeed totally experiencing the moment with shrills of joy, over turned chairs, running top speed throughout the house and pappy was on the brink of erupting. Then in a flash, in the utter chaos, one of the little toots begin scratching and clawing his way into my lap. He looked up with those big eyes, smiling widely and said, "How ya doing Pappy?"

Yes, I have to agree .... chaos is essential to the universe.

Dennis

Pappy the Troll

2007-01-25T04:56:00.001-06:00

The whole family was recently in Texas to attend the funeral of my father-in-law. It was nice to get the whole family together even though it was for a sad occasion. My family all roomed in the Ranch House motel where we have spent nights before on numerous more pleasant occasions such as Christmas and anniversaries with grandma and grandpa.

The two oldest daughters and their families always get adjoining rooms so the kids have a bigger running space than just one room. This is both good and bad since it seems the little tykes can get a bigger head of steam built up with the greater distance to run.

The morning of the funeral, the daughters ask us to come "baby sit" the grands while all three of them practiced the songs they were to sing for their granddad's funeral. That sounded easy enough so we went to their adjoining rooms while they searched out an empty, much quieter room to practice. They had assured me that the outside door in the other room was dead bolted and chained so the kids couldn't "sneak out". OK, no problem (I thought).

Well the noise level was just below sonic levels as the grands tried to burn off some energy. I still have a hard time understanding how 4 kids can make that much noise! The Warden and I looked at each other and silently worried if our family would be banned from ever attending any family functions again. But anyway after pappy had enough, I set them down on the end of the bed to tell them a story of "Pappy the Troll" who carried a big belt and hated noise!

They listened intently as I described the belt and how it was used on real noisy children. And went further to explain how quiet they should be at the family dinner and services in the afternoon. Well now I was right proud of myself and my story since I hadn't raised my voice and the kids had taken it all in!

As soon as I had finished, I winked at the Warden in a show of male intellectual superiority. I had headed off a potentially noisy afternoon.

The two oldest looked at each other and said how they had best stay away from Pappy. Then they bolted off the bed with the younger ones in close pursuit and headed into the adjoining room quickly shutting the adjoining room door......the one without the doorknob on my side! So here I set as the noise level increased in the other room......unable to open the door and with the outside door bolted and chained!

Each time I asked them to open the door, they hollered back that Pappy was a troll! The Warden now stood there with arms folded and that "know it all look" on her face. Finally the daughters returned and the kids opened the door for them as they promised the grands they would protect them from "Pappy the Troll".

Then all the daughters took their mothers know-it-all stance and Becky said, "Next time Dad, we'll just lock them in a room when we leave!"

Dennis

Fat Boys Don't Bounce

2007-01-16T04:46:00.000-06:00

One thing about frigid temperatures and icy roads, people stay close to home. That is except for dedicated feed salesman! We see a unique opportunity in catching ranchers close to the heating stove after chores are done and cattle fed. However it does bring about another set of difficulties, that being, keeping ones feet firmly on the ground! And yesterday was no exception as I slowly made my way from one hard to catch prospect to another.

I was counting my blessings as I approached the home of a very hard to catch prospect and seen that his feed pickup was in the shed. His twin rat terriers were as anxious as ever to bite at my ankles as I stepped from the car and began my "baby stepping" toward his back porch. Normally with good footing I can kick the little ankle-biters off but with the ice underfoot this was not an option. So I just dragged the little cusses along growling and holding on to my pant leg.

Very carefully holding on to the porch railing, I was able to rid myself of the two attached appendages. Slowly I made my way up the ice covered steps to the back door. I knocked loudly a couple times, eagerly awaiting his appearance so that I could get in out of the bone chilling wind. But to my great disappointment, no one was there.

I turned and slowly made my way back to the ice covered steps of the porch rubbing my hands together in an attempt to warm them. The two ankle biters were waiting patiently for me at the bottom step. Fearing they might cause me to loose my footing (and knowing that the owner wasn't home), I let go of a stern bellow that sent them scurrying around behind the house and eased on down the steps.

I headed back across the yard totally disappointed that I had again missed an opportunity with this prospect. So totally was I focused on planning my next call that I never realized the very slight slope in the yard two steps from my car door. In the next instance I was suspended in mid air resembling the position of a magician's assistant as he passes a hoop to show there is no wires attached.

I landed so prone that my heels, butt, back and head hit at exactly the same time with a very audible WOOF! This sound raised the attention of the ankle biters who rounded the corner of the house in a dead run. My next memory is trying to determine which was the most important crisis; getting air back into my collapsed lungs, freezing to death only inches from my car, or the ankle biters who had discovered that my ear lobes were now down on their level.

Well as you can see by my relating this story that I did in deed survive. But I am sure dreading going to the coffee shop this morning hobbling like a 100 year old man. And there is no doubt the Band-Aids on my ear lobes will attract some attention.

Dennis

Technically Challenged

2006-12-16T05:17:00.001-06:00

I try to get by the Stockman's Cafe at least one morning a week for coffee and to catch up on local news. (OK, local news at a cowboy cafe is called gossip at a hair salon .... but "local news" sounds better in a blog!)

The names in this story have been changed to protect the innocent!

The other morning as I arrived Bud was showing off his new razor thin flip top camera cell phone. Now watching those 50+ year old cowboys pass that phone around brought back memories of being a youngster and some kid bringing a new toy to school. Every one had to take a look and push some of the buttons. (Of course in this situation no one really knew what the buttons did!) Now Bud was trying to tell what all this new phone would do (which in reality he didn't know either) .... but as the Good Book says, the blind shall lead the blind!

It went something like this.

"All you have to do is open it like this and it's turned on and ready to talk," Bud said with nods of approval all around the table. "It's got speed dial, a camera, speaker phone and they said it even has voice commands. I keep it on speaker because I can hear it better."

"What does that voice commands mean?" Butch asked.

"Well I can just say the name and it dials," Bud proudly answered. "For instance I could say Sheryl and it ....." all of us then heard the multi-toned dialing sounds begin. There was a awed silence around the room as a stunned Bud looked at the phone. We all then heard the ring of a phone as Bud quickly closes the flap. "Dang!" Bud exclaims, "I didn't know it was that easy!"

"So the only way you can dial that thing is to say their name?" Butch asked in clarification.

"Oh no," Bud explained, "you can manually just put in the number or you can have them on speed dial."

"What's speed dial?" Butch asked. He always was the inquisitive type.

"Well Sheryl's speed dial number is 5, so you just hold down the 5" Bud said as he continued his demonstration. Instantly we heard the multi-toned dialing and the ringing of a phone. Bud closed the flap quickly, "Wow that thing is fast!"

"Well how does that camera work?" Butch continued his questioning.

Bud then proudly opened the phone again and took a picture of Butch, turned the phone to him and showed him the screen with his picture one it. "Then if I want to send that picture to someone I just say 'send to Sheryl' and poof off it goes!"

"Well I'll be a monkey's uncle!" Butch said in amazement.

With the features all presented, Bud reluctantly folded the flap and put it in his pocket, taking care to button the flap. Just then the Lone Ranger theme song started playing. Bud, being the center of attention again, extracted his phone.

"Hello?" proudly holding the phone out so he could demonstrate the speaker phone.

"Why did you send me Butch's picture?" asked a very sleepy sounding Sheryl.

"Well I was just showing the boy's here how the phone worked" Bud explained.

"You woke me up showing the boys your phone?" a much angrier Sheryl asked. "Well let me tell them what I am going to do with your phone. I'm gonna come down there and ...... " She then went on to explain to all in the room a very detailed anatomical description of where she was going to put that new cell phone. Then everyone in the cafe heard the loud click as she hung up.

The whole cafe was quiet for a minute looking at Bud. "She's a little touchy early of a morning since she took that night shift at the hospital" he explained still holding the phone out as if displaying it. A very worried look on his face.

Butch was the first to break the silence and offer advice for his worried friend, "On your way home tonight, you best stop by and get some flowers for Sheryl." Immediately we heard the multi-toned dialing sounds and the ringing of a phone.

Bud quickly closed the flap as everyone in the cafe decided that it was time to get to work. I haven't been back since that fateful morning, but I suspect Bud is walking a little more bowlegged.

Dennis

Shopping on line, Warden style

2006-12-10T04:06:00.001-06:00

I was listening to some business news the other day at how many billions of dollars are spent at Christmas time. An astronomical amount to say the least. He told stories of people standing in line for hours the day after Thanksgiving waiting on the store to open. He talked about crowded malls and retail stores and the mad rush to find the right present. It really got me in the Christmas spirit!

Then discussion turned to "on line shopping". It was reported that 50-60% of all Americans will purchase at least one item this Christmas season from an "on line store". And there aren't many major retailers who don't have an "on line store" anymore. To me this does make a lot of sense, sure beats the heck out of standing in the express lane at Wal-Mart!

Authors note: It has often been said that a person will spend 30% of his life in bed. I think an additional 25% of his life is spent standing in a check out line at Wal-Mart!

But let me describe "shopping on line" with the Warden. It goes something like this; I'm on my way to town to purchase something when the cell phone rings.

"I forgot we had to have those clothing gifts for the angel tree person tomorrow at church." the Warden says, "Will you pick them up while you are in town?"

"Dear," I always use sweet words if I am going to attempt to turn her down, "you know I'm not good at matching colors and stuff. And besides I don't know where all the things are!"

"Just call me when you get in Wal-Mart" comes her denial to my attempted evasion. Click!

As I walk in the door, instead of saying Merry Christmas to the Wal-Mart greeter, I'm dialing my phone.

"I'm here!" I say as she answers.

"Ok, turn right and go to the men and boy's department," she instructs. (She knows a Wal-Mart layout better than any of the Wal-Mart store designers.) "Now look for a shirt, large, neutral in color."

"What color is neutral?" I inquire. (My motive here is to nip this style of shopping in the bud while it is still in it's infancy.)

"Pick out two and then use your camera phone to send me a picture," she commands. Click! (I think she figured out my plan.)

So I do as I am told and then call her back.

"Take the one on the right. And then go to the slacks." The aforementioned scenario is repeated and the proper color is picked. The Warden then directs me around the store to the various other items she wants purchased.

Finally, I'm headed for the checkout line with all the desired items. "Ok, then we're done? I can head home now?"

"No!" she says, " I need you to stop by the grocery store and pick up a few items. Call me when you get there!" Click!

I'm not sure anymore that I am all for this "on line shopping" I think to myself as I inch forward in the checkout line. I think all it did was to replace the list!

Dennis

Cold Weather and the Warden

2006-12-01T06:52:00.001-06:00

Last week here in KS we set record high temperatures, sit on the front porch and griped because it was so hot. This week we set record low temperatures and hunted for our long handles. But I guess that .....on the average we've had perfect temperatures!

None-the-less, nothing ever breaks down until it is needed. Yesterday the Warden called on my cell and said something was wrong with the heater and she could barely heat the house past 60 degrees. Well now there wasn't much I could do from where I was at, so she called a heating and cooling guy out to fix it. He said there was some sort of switch burned out and he needed to get parts so it might be a day or two. So the Warden packed her bags and headed over to the daughters house to get warm.

Now this just kind of shows how "modern conveniences" affects us. Back home on the farm, the Warden was one tough lady! I've seen her bed sows in a blizzard! Carry bales of straw to the sow pens when the snow was near waist deep just to keep them warm at night.

Thaw out frozen automatic waters for the hogs to drink! She might take hours in the freezing wind working with hot water, torches or electric heaters just to get water flowing again for the pigs.

She would carry feed through snow drifts for the sows! She could carry two 25 lb buckets of feed at a time and sometimes had to make 5 or 6 trips just to get everything fed, but she didn't give up! She just hunkered down and went after it till the job was done!

She could castrate a farrowing of pigs in a matter of minutes. Cold weather or hot, she just got the job done. (Side note here: She was so good at castrating, I dang sure wouldn't go to sleep before she did if we ever had a fight!!)

She would cut and split wood for the wood stove when the temperatures were falling below zero! She could split a rick of wood in less than an hour, unless it was hedge. Let alone bringing in frozen clothes off the clothesline!

But when we moved to town and she found out about "central heat" and "clothes-driers", well it's just made her plenty soft in her "mature years". I reckon I should move her back to the country to help toughen her up again. What do you think? Leave me a comment below if you agree so I can show her.

Dennis

Giving thanks and count'n bless'ns

2006-11-25T05:36:00.000-06:00

This year the Warden hosted for the Thanksgiving feast and 18 family members were in attendance. Momma and Daddy Warden came from Texas to attend, accompanied by the Warden's younger brother and sister. Also at the last minute on Wednesday we got a call from Peoria, IL and baby Ruth (the youngest daughter, not the candy bar) said they were also going to get to attend. This of course was a welcomed surprise.

The Warden of course fretted and stewed all week wondering if she had everything she was going to need to feed everyone. She made daily trips to the store to pick up vegetables, fruits, cans of various foods, different seasonings and other items of recipes she just found and had to try. And she also called me daily to stop at some Country Mart or Dillions to pick up some other "forgotten ingredient". (Which did put me in the fight of my life for a couple boxes of cornbread dressing mix on Wednesday. If I hadn't outweighed that 80 year old woman, I might not have gotten those boxes wrenched out of her hand!)

But on Thursday around 9:30 everything started coming together as people arrived. Smells from the kitchen drew in samplers and tasters. Becky, Rachel and Ruth (with husbands, kids and dogs) arrived bearing more mashed potatoes, hams, cakes and casseroles. Those of us that were of the male gender sat on the newly finished front porch enjoying the beautiful weather and pretended to oversee the wild Indians playing in the yard. Finally dinner was announced and we crowded into the kitchen to surround the bar filled with various delicacies and fill our plates to overflowing.

Now here at the Warden/KSCowboy household there is a special tradition at Thanksgiving. Since it is "Thanks Giving" we all have to tell what we are thankful for. This is really a unique time. It makes everyone reflect on their own blessings but also, as you listen to others share theirs, realize some blessing that you might have taken for granted.

As we go around the room each person (of voting age) tells of blessings such as health, job changes, neighbors they have, children in good health, the country in which we live, opportunities that have happened to us, etc. It is a fun, inspirational and an enlightening time that draws this family a bit closer. I too add my blessings to the list.

Yet even as open as we are with feelings and emotions, there is always something that a person holds within the deep recesses of the heart. Whether fear of being deemed as "petty" or fear of "embarrassment" or something more trivial, we do not totally bare our soul. As I am giving my "blessing speech", looking at all the food before us, meeting the eyes of all my kids, healthy grandkids, in-laws and out-laws there is a blessing I don't mention. However in my heart I am SO THANKFUL we now have a house with three bathrooms!

Dennis

The Internet

2006-11-21T03:49:00.000-06:00

When I first began hearing about the internet I had trouble even understanding the concept of a network of computers tied together around the world. Not only that but what possible functions could it play in daily life.

Now I do my banking on line. I pay most of my bills through the internet. I check the weather. I read the news I want and skip the rest. I can shop at Wal-Mart without standing in the Express lane for three hours. Literally millions of companies large and small have web sites. I can go research articles about health and nutrition. I can check out "how to's" on most any subject known to man. I can buy plane tickets, plan vacations and set up reservations. I can check sports scores or stock prices. Research history or learn about astronomy. The list of things I can do is as endless as the internet itself.

As more and more companies begin to rely on the internet for commerce they are constantly researching ways to "keep you connected". I can carry my laptop and in many cities use it to connect to a WI-FI network and do the very same things while traveling as if I was sitting at home behind my desk.

The growth of the internet out-surpassed the TV. Television grew rapidly in the 40's and 50's. Hardly any homes in the industrial world was vacant of a TV by the early 60's. People marveled that the world was becoming smaller. We got to see the news within hours when dignitaries met for summit talks or a catastrophic event happened somewhere.

Now all over the world people with personal computers are getting connected and the world gets smaller. Some ordinary individual sitting on a computers can relay information in a matter of seconds about events like the tsunami, earthquakes, war in Iraq or other catastrophic events.

People get to know people from other countries through chat rooms, instant messengers or pen pal sites and friendships grow from these. No longer do we rely on what the dignitaries to tell us or the news men. Today we can find others and learn ourselves.

Then the thought hits me. Besides the millions of companies out there, there are literally billions of people like myself sitting and staring at these little lighted screens. Now you would think with all those billions of people out there hooked to the internet that I would have at least ONE email to read this morning!

Dennis

With age comes wisdom?

2006-11-19T06:10:00.001-06:00

As I approach yet another birthday, I remember when I was back in college and I called my grandmother on her birthday just to wish her a happy birthday. Now grandma was pretty quick-witted and always could fit in a one-liner. She told me that when she was a kid she only had birthdays every 4 or 5 years but that now she was having two or three a year. I laughed and still do when I think of her saying that. HOWEVER now I chuckle simply because I know exactly what she meant! Last month I had my 50th birthday and the month before that was my 45th!

I have always enjoyed reading history and learning what it was like "way back then". I thought it was so cool when we got cable and I had a history channel to watch. But now when I watch the history channel, it's more like a stroll down memory lane .... I have experienced a lot of it!

A couple years ago, I was substitute teaching a history class made up of seniors. I don't remember exactly what point I was trying to make, but I was trying to tie the point with a US conflict. Knowing they wouldn't remember the Viet-Nam war I used the statement "you remember how it was during the Gulf War, Desert Storm" and finished making my point. One young man in the back of the room raised his hand and said, "sir, our Dad's fought in the Gulf War. We were only 3 or 4 years old." Goodness! All of a sudden a rush came over me of just how OLD I was getting!

My paternal grand-dad died at the age of 94. He had been born before the 20th century even started. I marvel at the changes he seen. He started with horses and yet see automobile travel became common place. He could remember Oklahoma becoming a state. Can you for a minute imagine that? From his farm to Oklahoma would take 20 to 30 minutes today, yet as a teenager it would have been a "days ride" for my grand-dad to get there.

Think about it. Airplanes before there were "airports". Telephones with cranks and you needed a lot of money just to call someone in the next state. Radio and TV becoming common. He worried about his kids and polio. What did he think when he seen an X-ray for the first time. Electricity and "indoor plumbing". Men on the moon. The attack on Pearl Harbor and the atom bomb. The list goes on and on.

I do wonder (assuming I make it till I am 94) what my descendants will marvel most at about my historical existence. Heart or liver transplants? Cell phones? Internal combustion engine? Cancer treatments? The internet? Satellite communications? Space travel?

The ONE thing I do worry about in this changing world is the family unit. Will that be remembered 40 years from now?

Well, there is one thing great about growing older........it beats the alternative!

Dennis

1969 / 2006 comparison

2006-11-17T19:35:00.000-06:00

Good evening my friends. What you are about to read would be truly funny, if it were not so true. (Only the names have been changed to protect the innocent!)

Scenario: Jack pulls into school parking lot with rifle in gun rack.

1969 Â Vice Principal comes over, takes a look at JackÂs rifle, goes to his car and gets his to show Jack.

2006 Â School goes into lockdown, FBI called, Jack hauled off to jail and never sees his truck or gun again. Counselors called in for traumatized students and teachers.

++++++++++++++++++++++

Scenario: Johnny and Mark get into a fist fight after school.

1969 Â Crowd gathers. Mark wins. Johnny and Mark shake hands and end up best friends. Nobody goes to jail, nobody arrested, nobody expelled.

2006 Â Police called, SWAT team arrives, arrests Johnny and Mark. Charge them with assault, both expelled even though Johnny started it.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Scenario: Jeffrey wonÂt be still in class, disrupts other students.

1969 Â Jeffrey sent to office and given a good paddling by Principal. Sits still in class.

2006 Â Jeffrey given huge doses of Ritalin. Becomes a zombie. School gets extra money from state because Jeffrey has a disability.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Scenario: Billy breaks a window in his fatherÂs car and his Dad gives him a whipping.

1969 Â Billy is more careful next time, grows up normal, goes to college, and becomes a successful businessman.

2006 Â BillyÂs Dad is arrested for child abuse. Billy removed to foster care and joins a gang. BillyÂs sister is told by state psychologist that she remembers being abused herself and their Dad goes to prison. BillyÂs mom has affair with psychologist.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Scenario: Mark gets a headache and takes some headache medicine to school.

1969 Â Mark shares headache medicine with Principal out on the smoking dock.

2006 Â Police called, Mark expelled from school for drug violations. Car searched for drugs and weapons.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

Scenario: Mary turns up pregnant.

1969 Â 5 High School Boys leave town and enlist in the army. Mary does her senior year at a special school for expectant mothers.

2006 Â Middle School Counselor calls Planned Parenthood, who notifies the ACLU. Mary is driven to the next state over and gets an abortion without her parentÂs consent or knowledge. Mary given condoms and told to be more careful next time.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Scenario: Pedro fails high school English.

1969: Pedro goes to summer school, passes English, goes to college.

2006: PedroÂs cause is taken up by state democratic party. Newspaper articles appear nationally explaining that teaching English as a requirement for graduation is racist. ACLU files class action lawsuit against state school system and PedroÂs English teacher. English banned from core curriculum. Pedro given diploma anyway but ends up mowing lawns for a living because he canÂt speak English.

+++++++++++++++++++++

Scenario: Johnny takes apart leftover firecrackers from the 4th of July, puts them in a model airplane paint bottle, blows up a red ant bed.

1969 Â Ants die.

2006 Â BATF, Homeland Security, FBI called. Johnny charged with domestic terrorism, FBI investigates parents, siblings removed from home, computers confiscated, JohnnyÂs Dad goes on a terror watch list and is never allowed to fly again.

+++++++++++++++++++++

Scenario: Johnny falls while running during recess and scrapes his knee. He is found crying by his teacher, Mary. Mary, hugs him to comfort him.

1969 - In a short time Johnny feels better and goes on playing.

2006 - Mary is accused of being a sexual predator and loses her job. She faces 3 years in State Prison.

IsnÂt it time for us to gain control again of our kids, our schools and our lives? Stand-up and letÂs have freedom again. LetÂs get rid of political correctness. Put in jail those who abuse our system. Withstand those who would try to do away with our culture.
Dennis
*Author note; I can't take credit for the writing of this blog. It was copied from an email I recieved.

The Remote

2006-11-12T07:03:00.000-06:00

I think there is law somewhere that states that woman should not usurp her authority over the TV remote … or maybe that is in the Book of Proverbs. But anyway, if it ain’t it should be! Let me try to explain some basic facts.

First of all, women are built different than men. (OK I know it is a shock for those who, like the Warden, burned their bras back in the late 60’s but there are some differences.) For example, women’s fingers are pointed. Although I do not believe in evolution, I do think that a woman’s finger has evolved into more of a “point” after years of directing where furniture needs to be moved to, where a picture should be hung or where to plant the chrysanthemums!

Conversely, men’s fingers are more rounded. Probably this is due to hitting them with a hammer while hanging pictures or from digging in the dirt planting chrysanthemums. But none-the-less, this rounded digit is a much better design for pushing buttons, i.e. the remote.

 Authors note: The Warden who is reading over my shoulder as I write this, just mentioned that feature of rounded fingertips also is best suited for poking all her buttons the wrong way! But I guess that is another blog sometime.

Secondly, women do not understand the concept of “channel surfing”.

Major companies who spend millions of dollars on advertising realize that in mere seconds an image is burned into your mind about many their products, logos and services. These are flashed very quickly to influence your next buying decision.

However in certain instances, they leave the image on screen for several seconds maybe even the entire commercial. This is done for you to study the features of the product on a much more defined scale. Usually this is on the more expensive items that require a greater buying decision.

The same thing holds true for channel surfing. We have 60 channels to surf through (24 women’s channels, 5 sports channels, 10 movie channels, 4 major networks, 6 news channels, 6 music channels, 4 science channels and the weather channel). To surf these channels it should take less than five minutes, unless of course you run across a car chase scene, a golfer taking his swing, a shoot-out, a fight scene, a quarterback poised for a pass, a crack of a bat or a light tree blinking the start of a drag race. Any of these would of course slow down the surfing time.

Under no circumstances should it require more than a couple of seconds to move on if there is a song being sung on a movie channel! Or pray tell if you run across a scene of a lady pouring some batter into a cake pan why stop and watch her BAKE the silly thing! And watching some guy shingle his house? What good is that? You can fix the shingles on your own house if that is your interest.

Men join with me and let’s get a law passed. Write your congressman!
Dennis

Seeing Clearly Now

2006-10-25T04:25:00.000-05:00

This just hasn’t been my summer: hitting the hog in June; shingles in July; gallbladder surgery in August; and now this! You the reader are getting the final few words of my existence.

Last night I was feeling a little "punky" and fell asleep in my chair. The Warden woke me sometime later and said I needed to go to bed. (Does it ever make sense to wake someone up to go to bed?)

This morning I got up and started feeling around in the dark trying to find my glasses since the Warden is a little "touchy" if I turn on the lights at 3:30 AM! Well I finally found them and strolled into the kitchen to start the coffee.

Dang I couldn’t focus. I rubbed my eyes and even put in drops to get the "fuzz" out of them. When I opened the refrigerator the whole thing seemed to move and sway. I got rather queasy and thought I was about to upchuck. I even sit down on the floor till things stopped swaying quite so bad.

I hate having that dang flu. It comes on so suddenly! I haven’t had the stuff in years. It was all I could do to get the coffee made before I fell over!

Then I came to the computer to get my email. I was so dizzy I could barely make the mouse work.No way could I even focus the computer screen well enough to read the few emails I had. Finally I gave up and went into the living room and my easy chair to die. I sat there with my eyes closed and tried to take my mind off my swirling stomach.

I know this is to be my last day on planet earth. There is no way I am going to survive.It has taken three attempts to get back to my computer to record my final moments. But I have finally persevered. Here I sit, my head leaned back and trying in vain to focus on one spot on the ceiling, I must get my "Last Will and Testament" written before it's to late. Slowly adding one or two words to this, my final blog.

I can now hear the Warden stirring in her room. I sure hope that maybe she will have compassion on her dying husband.

Well she just stuck her head in the door of the computer room and said, "Why are you wearing my glasses? Here are yours!"

Well, turns out I am not sick after all.
Dang! Now I got to go to work!
click here
Dennis

Donuts

2006-10-21T06:35:00.000-05:00

I have decided that true Americans eat donuts.

I am writing this blog this morning from a motel in Dallas. Even on trips I cannot sleep late and the Warden "requested" that I find SOMETHING to do rather than turn on the lights or TV at 4AM. So I decided to go find a donut shop and get a cup of coffee. (One thing good about 4 AM in Dallas, there are fewer cars on the road!!) But anyway, as I drove by a strip mall a couple miles from the motel I noticed a donut shop with only one car parked outside.

Once inside I noticed that the glass cabinet was full of various glazed, maple covered, cake, plain or powdered pastries. It was hard to make a selection, but I persevered and selected a maple covered long john. I then poured a medium cup of hot coffee, bought a Dallas Morning News and went to a chair in the corner to enjoy my selections.

This being an election year, the paper was naturally full of articles concerning politically charged events throughout the city, state and nation. In many of those articles were "titles" attached to people’s names. Titles such as "Democratic leader", "Conservative spokesman", "African-American leader", "Hispanic representative" could be found in each article describing or categorizing an individual.

I continued to pretend I was reading the paper as a Caucasian man in a police uniform entered the store. A man of African decent sitting across from me spoke to him concerning some Vietnam War veteran’s benefits. As they discussed the topic, it became apparent that they were friends and very possibly shared some past experiences in the military.

The Caucasian man then walked to the counter and placed his order with the Asian man behind the counter. The Caucasian man ordered a dozen glazed donuts as the Asian owner chided him over his weight with a grin. The Caucasian policeman jokingly said that the Asian owner was going to get more parking tickets if he said any more about his weight.

The Caucasian policeman took his order and turned to leave, almost running into a Hispanic woman who had entered the store on her way to her job. Apologizing for his blunder the Caucasian policeman then asked the Hispanic nurse how she liked her new job at the Medical Center.

The Hispanic nurse then approached the Asian owner and placed her order for some jelly filled Danishes. As the Asian owner filled her order she asked how the new baby was doing. The Asian owner beamed with pride as he related the latest "new baby" story to her.

As you can see from the previous few paragraphs, titles such as these do not help the story. All were concerned of the others wellbeing. There was no need of "titles". What I seen was a mix of ethnicity all coming together as friends, neighbors and Americans without the need of a "Black Leader" or "Asian Spokesman" or "Hispanic Representative" or "Conservative Demagogue" or "Liberal Prolocutor".

Let’s just be Americans!
Dennis

Seriously Speaking

2006-10-08T06:48:00.000-05:00

Seldom do I write anything of a serious nature. However I am compelled to write this as we approach an election cycle. First I must define a few definitions.

Democracy: government by the people; especially : rule of the majority
democracy. (n.d.). Merriam-Webster's Dictionary of Law. Retrieved October 08, 2006, from Dictionary.com website: http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/democracy

Republic: a political system in which the supreme power lies in a body of citizens who can elect people to represent them
republic. (n.d.). WordNet® 2.0. Retrieved October 08, 2006, from Dictionary.com website: http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/republic

Think for a few minutes how our form of government protects all people. Each state has 2 Senators, each equal in power, yet population of different states varies greatly. This prevents "mob rule", which would be the downside of a PURE democracy.

Also with each state varying in population, there is a need for a representative based on the needs of a populace. Thus we elect representatives based on the populace of each state. This prevents a "few" people from controlling the "mass", which would be the downside of a PURE republic based totally on regions or states.

Thus we send representatives to Washington DC based on population and on regions to act as our voices in making laws, creating taxes and controlling our governing principles on a national level.

Our nation was founded on the theory that all people should be represented within the government. We are a republic with a democratically elected congress. The wisdom of such a form of government must have had some divine guidance. Otherwise a few of the larger cities could have "ruled" the USA. Or conversely a region with a small population could have dictated the populace of the whole.

Also consider our economic system which is generally described as capitalistic. Take a moment and read the definition of the three major economic systems/theories.

Capitalism: an economic system in which investment in and ownership of the means of production, distribution, and exchange of wealth is made and maintained chiefly by private individuals or corporations, esp. as contrasted to cooperatively or state-owned means of wealth.
capitalism. (n.d.). Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.0.1). Retrieved October 08, 2006, from Dictionary.com website: http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/capitalism

Socialism: Any of various theories or systems of social organization in which the means of producing and distributing goods is owned collectively or by a centralized government that often plans and controls the economy.
socialism. (n.d.). The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth Edition. Retrieved October 08, 2006, from Dictionary.com website: http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/socialism

Communism: a theory or system of social organization based on the holding of all property in common, actual ownership being ascribed to the community as a whole or to the state.
communism. (n.d.). Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.0.1). Retrieved October 08, 2006, from Dictionary.com website: http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/communism

I am capitalistic in nature. I do not believe that the "community" or government should own the marketplace or control the output of goods and services. This allows best for the general distribution of wealth. One merely has to look around at other nations to see this system is best. If one looks at Venezuela (Hugo Chavez) or North Korea (Kim Jong IL), it is easy to see that even though both countries claim to be "democratic", the leaders live in wealth while the masses suffer extreme poverty.

The American dream is allowed because of these two great facts: capitalism and our form of governing. Be sure and vote this coming election. Be sure and vote for the person who will best uphold these two basic American principles.
Dennis

Cell Phones

2006-09-09T16:36:00.000-05:00

Everybody has a cell phone these days! Everywhere you go you can "stay connected". Over lunch yesterday in a popular café in town, I’ll bet there was at least 10 cell phones that went off for different people. Driving down the road you see 50 percent of the drivers on their cell phones while they are driving.

Friday I pulled up to a customer’s house to discuss his winter feed needs. So happened that he was shipping cattle and several of his neighbors were there helping him. They were all still horse back but shaded up waiting on the trucks. I naturally took the opportunity to apply my trade to such a gathering of cattlemen. Then the theme song of "The Lone Ranger" started playing. Every cowboy there started checking his cell to see whose was going off.

I happen to carry two: one supplied by my company so Fred can find me if needed and one personal so the Warden can call me to bring something home.

Now since they show who is calling, I kind of figured out, that if Fred calls, I won’t answer right off or maybe I’ll even call him back at a later time. That way he thinks I’m busy selling feed. (Comes in real handy along about naptime in the afternoon.)

Today the Warden wanted me to go shopping with her. She had to go get groceries at Dillions and to Wal-Mart for the rest of the daily necessities. I offered to do Wal-Mart while she did groceries to save some time. That phone came in handy as I went down my list. I could call the Warden for "verification" purposes as to size or brand or just what the heck she had written down on the list when I couldn’t read her writing. I figure most other shoppers were doing the same thing because about half the people you seen were talking on their cells as they walked down the aisles.

But they can be a source of embarrassment too! Last week as I was filling the car with gas the "mother nature need" happened upon me. So I went to the throne room there in the convenience store, took my stall and settled into the "Thinker" stance. All of a sudden the guy in the next stall ask, "Where are you headed?"

Well now folks, I am the type of guy that can talk to teen or elderly, man or woman or a stranger on the street. Doesn’t bother me in the least to carry a conversation on with anyone. But this was rather an unexpected arrangement.

"Well I am headed to Cherryvale and then to Yates Center" I answered.

There was a brief moment of silence then he inquired, "what are you going to do there?"

Well I am thinking this guy is a little nosey or perhaps he is a spy sent out by Fred, but I answer, "I am going to see some prospects about booking their winter feed."

"When are you going to be back down this way?" he continued his probing of my business.

"It’ll be at least 4 or 5 hours to make the trip," I explained. "Just sort of depends on how many I find at home and how talkative they are."

"Can you be back here by 5?" he relentlessly asks.

"That would be kind of pushing it to be back by then." Now I know this guy has been sent out by Fred to get me moving faster.

Then he said, "I’ll have to call you back. There’s an idiot in the next stall that keeps answering my questions!" And I heard the familiar click of a pocket cell phone closing.

Folks, let me assure you, you will never receive a call from me if I am in the throne room!
Dennis

The Good Ole Days

2006-09-04T16:54:00.000-05:00

With the Warden off being grandma to Micah, I decided to attend the Atlanta Labor Day celebration. It’s always good for a parade, some homegrown fun and meeting some old friends. I sure wasn’t disappointed. At least for a while. Just like my grandsons, I watched the whole parade, hollered at friends when they drove by and held my fingers in my ears when they blew the sirens on the fire trucks.

Afterwards, I sort of strolled along seeing who all was around (besides I knew there was no way for me to keep up with the grandsons). Then, since I am now of the "minimum age", I strolled over to the "old timers" bench (which was in the shade) and decided to people watch.

Then along came Bill and sits down beside me. Now Bill has always been somewhat of drip of cold water but is all right most of the time. We, of course start rehashing "old times" when our own kids were running all over the place and comparing notes over the last couple years since we last seen each other. Soon the conversation begins to turn to statements starting with "member when?"

"Member when ole Skelly went with us coon hunting over on the creek?" he asked with a grin. Then added, "he dang sure could skinny up a tree!"

"Yeah, that night sure was a lot of fun" I added "and we got several coon as I remember."

"Yeah, that ole Buck dog of his was a pretty dang good hound. Never tapped a tree unless the coon was there" he continued.

"Where is ole Skelly now?" I questioned.

"Oh he died some 5 or so years ago" he explained. "Just keeled right over one day."

Well, now I was kind of shocked to hear that news since ole Skelly was just a couple years older than me! But then we both stopped talking for a minute or two, to kind of memorialize our demised friend.

"Member Jim? Same thing happened to him!" he added when the proper time of memorializing was over.

"Jim?" I asked emphatically. "I just seen him a couple years ago here at Atlanta! Looked healthy as a horse!"

"Well he was till he went to the doctor." He explained, "Doctor gave him a shot for something and he had a reaction. Didn’t make the night!"

I am shocked! Again we go silent for a few more minutes of memorialism.

"You heard about Bob didn’t ya? Member him?" he asked.

By now I am getting a little afraid to ask, but I do with a qualifier, "You mean Bob that used to work on the ranch up north of Leon?"

"Yeah, he had a car wreck about 4 month ago."

We again memorialize our friend. But this time when the proper time has past, I decide it’s time to leave.

"Bill, it’s sure been good talking to you." I lie as I walk away. I had all I wanted of this walking obituary! I wanted out of there before this guy killed off all my friends.
Dennis