The previous year (2010) ended with a dull thud. Prostate cancer sat down at my table and dealt itself a hand. We're still playing that hand. I got dealt some good cards and this game ain't over yet.
During the past year, I did a whole bunch of things I didn't think I could do. I rebuilt the entire front end of a wrecked car, painted it and recharged it's air conditioner. I rebuilt my old truck's transmission using self training videos. I even designed a real budget. I had never done any of these things before.
At my age - all the tears I shed are tears of joy. I have a wife that puts up with me and I have 4 kids that turned out just fine - in spite of me.
Come to think of it ----------- never mind - I forgot what I was going to say.
Friday, December 30, 2011
Monday, November 21, 2011
To Do Lists
I think it's time somebody exposed the lovers of To Do lists. Nobody ever intends to do anything on such a list. They should be called "To Avoid" lists.
In moments of boredom, I take out my notepad. Across the top - I write To Do List. I want to have some order in my life and I know those who are orderly use these lists. By then, I've forgotten what it was I want to remember to do. So I think of things that should be on the list while I'm trying to remember why I started a list in the first place.
I wind up with a list of To Do's like "go get the mail" and "buy light bulbs". The list gets long and I still haven't thought of the To Do - I really needed To Do. After an hour or so - I realize I could have done all those To Do's in less time than it took to write them down. I go get the mail every day at the same time anyway. As for light bulbs - I'm already being reminded every time I try to turn on a lamp with a burned out bulb.
I realize I don't even need a list. They take too much time and I usually forget where I put my list anyway.
All this talk of "Do" and "light bulbs" lights an imaginary bulb above my head. I need to pick up a six pack of Mountain Dew.
I would have forgotten it if not for my To Do list.
In moments of boredom, I take out my notepad. Across the top - I write To Do List. I want to have some order in my life and I know those who are orderly use these lists. By then, I've forgotten what it was I want to remember to do. So I think of things that should be on the list while I'm trying to remember why I started a list in the first place.
I wind up with a list of To Do's like "go get the mail" and "buy light bulbs". The list gets long and I still haven't thought of the To Do - I really needed To Do. After an hour or so - I realize I could have done all those To Do's in less time than it took to write them down. I go get the mail every day at the same time anyway. As for light bulbs - I'm already being reminded every time I try to turn on a lamp with a burned out bulb.
I realize I don't even need a list. They take too much time and I usually forget where I put my list anyway.
All this talk of "Do" and "light bulbs" lights an imaginary bulb above my head. I need to pick up a six pack of Mountain Dew.
I would have forgotten it if not for my To Do list.
Sunday, November 6, 2011
About Hogs
I spent a lot of time on my uncle's farm about five miles outta town. Out on South Hogan Creek. There I learned a lot about hogs.
Life on the farm started really early. Like 5 AM early. Breakfast was always eggs and biscuits and gravy. Aunt Lillian's biscuits weighed about a pound apiece. Her gravy was lumpy and her eggs were - like raw. She liked them that way and wasted no time getting the family into the barn for milking and feeding chores.
A "slop bucket" sat next to the old wood burning kitchen stove. All kitchen waste was tossed into it. Stuff went into that bucket the dogs wouldn't eat. Even the used dishwater was poured in. The results were the most putrid mixture you could imagine.
The hogs loved it. They gulped it down. They got fat and sloppy. They loved slop of any kind. They lived in mud and stink and filth. They would eat anything. I recall an old farmer who lived a few miles down the creek had a heart attack and died while slopping the hogs. They found him partially eaten by the hogs. Hogs are also gluttons. They'll even eat each other if they get the chance. I can't think of anything good about hogs. Only skunks smells worst than hogs, but only if you upset them.
On second thought, I do love bacon, pork sausage, pork chops, pork ribs and numerous other "porky pig parts". If it weren't for bacon grease - I wouldn't go near pizza.
Life on the farm started really early. Like 5 AM early. Breakfast was always eggs and biscuits and gravy. Aunt Lillian's biscuits weighed about a pound apiece. Her gravy was lumpy and her eggs were - like raw. She liked them that way and wasted no time getting the family into the barn for milking and feeding chores.
A "slop bucket" sat next to the old wood burning kitchen stove. All kitchen waste was tossed into it. Stuff went into that bucket the dogs wouldn't eat. Even the used dishwater was poured in. The results were the most putrid mixture you could imagine.
The hogs loved it. They gulped it down. They got fat and sloppy. They loved slop of any kind. They lived in mud and stink and filth. They would eat anything. I recall an old farmer who lived a few miles down the creek had a heart attack and died while slopping the hogs. They found him partially eaten by the hogs. Hogs are also gluttons. They'll even eat each other if they get the chance. I can't think of anything good about hogs. Only skunks smells worst than hogs, but only if you upset them.
On second thought, I do love bacon, pork sausage, pork chops, pork ribs and numerous other "porky pig parts". If it weren't for bacon grease - I wouldn't go near pizza.
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