I would invite anyone who is still checking out this blog to link up to my new blog at www.mckaychronicles.wordpress.com. Same odd sense of humor, new and better format.
Thank you for your support.
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Friday, February 15, 2008
An Ode to The Octopus
(sung to the tune of "These Are a Few of My Favorite Things" from The Sound of Music)
Thomas the Tank fun and making the dog hurt
Skittles and icing and Trix-flavored yogurt
Building with blocks
and not wearing socks
These are a few of my favorite things
Going outside when the snowfall is sticking
Baseballs and footballs and golfballs and kicking
Wrestling Sis
Tractors like this
These are a few of my favorite things
When it's nap time
though I can't rhyme
When my diaper stinks
I just think of a few of my favorite things
and then I don't smellllllllll, so baaaaaaaad
And now, this important word from our sponsors
Feeling blue? Weather got you down? Toughen up, Nancy boy! This is Indiana, by golly, home to Milan basketball, the Tippecanoe River, and sandhill cranes. All you whiners can pack up and move to Florida or some other God-forsaken place where it's beautiful. It will be warm in three or four months, and then you'll be complaining about humidity and tornadoes. You can't have it both ways, alright? Our advice is this: take two or three Tylenol PMs, curl up in front of the fireplace, and throw back a belt of Welch's grape juice--the good stuff, like we use for communion. You'll feel better shortly.
This message brought to you by everywhere south of Indiana
Today's agenda
7:00 Wake up
7:45 Take kids to school
9:00 Take Black Bart to Jeff's Tire & Alignment to have the RR tire fixed and a front-end alignment
10:15 Go to county highway garage to complain about our road--easily, the worst gravel road of all time
10:30 Get hair cut by a talented woman barber who is accompanied by a bunch of giggling, cackling female-types
12:00 Chinese for lunch
1:00 Check in at the office and pick up my computer for the weekend
1:06 Go home--enough work for today already (it's been a busy week--truly)
7:00 Take the Natural to his first middle school dance (he'd rather be shot out of a cannon without a net, but as a student council member he has to go)
Whew, what a day! Hopefully bedtime will come soon thereafter. Drew has a big wrestling invitational at Rensselaer tomorrow. He's 3-1 now after winning by pin again last night at North White. He got beat by a kid from Rensselaer who must have been Harry Potter's little brother...looked just like him. I predict the Natural will smoke that kid tomorrow. He came in for the takedown but forgot to sink his hips, and the kid grabbed him somehow. He escaped once and reversed the hold, but he was too high and the little creep got the best of him. I love wrestling--the whole meet is like the last two minutes of a tie basketball game.
Anybody besides me ever notice that really potent farts not only smell bad, they taste bad too?
Thomas the Tank fun and making the dog hurt
Skittles and icing and Trix-flavored yogurt
Building with blocks
and not wearing socks
These are a few of my favorite things
Going outside when the snowfall is sticking
Baseballs and footballs and golfballs and kicking
Wrestling Sis
Tractors like this
These are a few of my favorite things
When it's nap time
though I can't rhyme
When my diaper stinks
I just think of a few of my favorite things
and then I don't smellllllllll, so baaaaaaaad
And now, this important word from our sponsors
Feeling blue? Weather got you down? Toughen up, Nancy boy! This is Indiana, by golly, home to Milan basketball, the Tippecanoe River, and sandhill cranes. All you whiners can pack up and move to Florida or some other God-forsaken place where it's beautiful. It will be warm in three or four months, and then you'll be complaining about humidity and tornadoes. You can't have it both ways, alright? Our advice is this: take two or three Tylenol PMs, curl up in front of the fireplace, and throw back a belt of Welch's grape juice--the good stuff, like we use for communion. You'll feel better shortly.
This message brought to you by everywhere south of Indiana
Today's agenda
7:00 Wake up
7:45 Take kids to school
9:00 Take Black Bart to Jeff's Tire & Alignment to have the RR tire fixed and a front-end alignment
10:15 Go to county highway garage to complain about our road--easily, the worst gravel road of all time
10:30 Get hair cut by a talented woman barber who is accompanied by a bunch of giggling, cackling female-types
12:00 Chinese for lunch
1:00 Check in at the office and pick up my computer for the weekend
1:06 Go home--enough work for today already (it's been a busy week--truly)
7:00 Take the Natural to his first middle school dance (he'd rather be shot out of a cannon without a net, but as a student council member he has to go)
Whew, what a day! Hopefully bedtime will come soon thereafter. Drew has a big wrestling invitational at Rensselaer tomorrow. He's 3-1 now after winning by pin again last night at North White. He got beat by a kid from Rensselaer who must have been Harry Potter's little brother...looked just like him. I predict the Natural will smoke that kid tomorrow. He came in for the takedown but forgot to sink his hips, and the kid grabbed him somehow. He escaped once and reversed the hold, but he was too high and the little creep got the best of him. I love wrestling--the whole meet is like the last two minutes of a tie basketball game.
Anybody besides me ever notice that really potent farts not only smell bad, they taste bad too?
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Tough decision when there's no choices
The interesting thing about sitting down at the computer to write blogs is that one never knows where it may wind up. Often I am thinking one thing, preparing to go a particular direction, but instead gray matter intervenes and we wind up going elsewhere. In backpacking (much like being an amateur photographer, I am also an amateur outdoorsman) that is called bushwhacking--kind of a fancy term, don't you think? When writing, on the other hand, that's often known as wasting everyone's time. So I will make every effort to keep to the marked trail.
Today's topic, boys and girls, is the upcoming presidential election. Be careful, won't you!? Only fools talk religion and politics! Well, then, I declare myself a fool twice over. Now, just right up front, I must declare myself as a die-hard conservative Republican. I'm dang near a Whig. My belief in government is easily stated--leave me alone, take as little of my money as possible, whack the bad guys, carry a big enough stick that the the creeps stay on their side of the pond, and keep your hands out of those places where they don't belong. For the first time since I've been of voting age, I'm looking at the distinct possibility of not voting for president this go round. Frankly, I'd rather take a cattle prod to the gibblies than pull the arm for either Billary or Osbama. Billary is in favor of national health care, which seems like a pleasant concept on its surface. Stick your head under the water, though, and you come to realize the undertow could sweep you out to sea and drown you. The Canadians are paying $100 billion for national health care, which violates rule #2, and you pretty much just have to hope your needed work will get done unless you have blood spurting. Elective surgeries are seldom elected. The Leaf says No. As far as Osbama, he seems pleasant enough, other than the fact that he was raised in a Muslim school and he's done absolutely nothing that would warrant Presidential consideration. Tonight I listened to about 5 minutes of the Sean Hannity radio program, and as part of his schtick he had gone out and asked Democrat voters to name one thing Osbama has ever accomplished. The vast majority said, "I can't think of any, I just like him." Those who had an answer came up with this distinguished list of accomplishments: he's black, he gives good speeches, and he's a Senator. Hmmm...that doesn't exactly inspire confidence that he can lead this country. I'd say he's fully qualified to be the mayor of something.
So that leaves me to vote for a Republican. Now, just a few weeks ago I was pretty fired up about Mike Huckabee. I mean, here's a guy who truly loves the Lord, bases his every decision on that faith, and is the strongest proponent of a fair tax. The primaries aren't going well for Mike, however, and I expect him to drop out pretty quick rather than continue to throw money out the jump door. Grandpa Ron will probably stay in the race because he's just crazy enough to keep going until someone makes him crawl back under whatever rock used to be his home. He's cute--here is a guy with a passionate following (all three percent of them) who had absolutely no chance of ever getting elected. But he keeps standing up there getting ignored, bellowing out his barbaric yalp. He's like the special needs student who stays up on stage and keeps singing even though the entire class exited stage right, and he keeps right on going until someone mercifully takes him by the hand and drags him away. And so that leaves us with John McCain as likely our only choice. I've been talking about politics, and here comes the part about religion--see, truly a double fool! As a discerning Christian, it is evident to me that John McCain does not believe in God. If you'd like me to cite the evidence I could go down that rabbit trail, but being that I'm the one doing the typing, I'll not do that just now. People keep citing McCain as a war hero, and I am uncomfortable with that tag in his case. He had the misfortune of being shot down early in the Vietnam War, and he had the incredible intestinal fortitude to stay alive as a POW for seven years. Even with that resume, I do not place the hero tag lightly. Just recently I read the book Sole Survivor, written by Marcus Luttrell. Luttrell is a Navy Seal, and he was part of a four-man team who was dropped in the middle of Nowhere, Afghanistan, to keep an eye on one of Osama bin Laden's henchmen. I would highly recommend this book--it gives a great explanation of why Luttrell does not believe we can win this war, and he is a soldier very loyal to the country and the President. His theory has a lot to do with the soldier who was just convicted of murder earlier this week--the guy was a sniper in an exposed position. A friggin' goatherder walked up on him, and the guy was faced with an immediate decision--make the proper military decision and eliminate the unarmed threat and therefore face almost certain criminal charges, or allow him to leave knowing full well he will send the bad guys your way virtually immediately. You can't win a war--because lots of people die in wars, particularly when the enemy looks and dresses exactly like the innocent--if you're afraid to kill people because they might not have an AK-47 or an IED under that robe...or maybe they do, and instead of appearing before a military tribunal, you get to go home in a rubber bodybag. Anyway, back to Luttrell. His team was attacked by an enemy force of over 140 men, heavily armed and well trained, and Luttrell was the only one to make it out alive. And even that was only after a week of incredible hardship and danger. The hero part comes in here--Seal Team 4 was commanded by Lt. Michael Murphy. After being seriously wounded three or four times, being blown down cliff faces three times, and fighting until he was almost completely out of ammunition, Lt. Murphy walked out to a fully exposed spot because he knew that only a cell phone call back to the base would give any of his team a chance to survive. He sat on a rock in the middle of a clearing and completed his call, and while out there he was shot again in the head, severe enough that part of his skull was misplaced and his head took on a misshapen appearance. Even that did not kill him, and he managed to scramble back to his team to continue the fight. Eventually, though, his body did succumb to its injuries, and he gave his life for his country, as did two more men on the team. Luttrell survived largely due to the phone call that Murphy made. Michael Murphy was posthumously awarded the Medal of Honor. Folks, that is a hero. I just don't think McCain's accomplishment as a survivor, heinous though it was in the Hanoi Hilton, is in that same vein.
To vote or not to vote. If I vote for someone, I have the right to complain. If I don't, I can blame everyone. What to do, what to do...
Today's topic, boys and girls, is the upcoming presidential election. Be careful, won't you!? Only fools talk religion and politics! Well, then, I declare myself a fool twice over. Now, just right up front, I must declare myself as a die-hard conservative Republican. I'm dang near a Whig. My belief in government is easily stated--leave me alone, take as little of my money as possible, whack the bad guys, carry a big enough stick that the the creeps stay on their side of the pond, and keep your hands out of those places where they don't belong. For the first time since I've been of voting age, I'm looking at the distinct possibility of not voting for president this go round. Frankly, I'd rather take a cattle prod to the gibblies than pull the arm for either Billary or Osbama. Billary is in favor of national health care, which seems like a pleasant concept on its surface. Stick your head under the water, though, and you come to realize the undertow could sweep you out to sea and drown you. The Canadians are paying $100 billion for national health care, which violates rule #2, and you pretty much just have to hope your needed work will get done unless you have blood spurting. Elective surgeries are seldom elected. The Leaf says No. As far as Osbama, he seems pleasant enough, other than the fact that he was raised in a Muslim school and he's done absolutely nothing that would warrant Presidential consideration. Tonight I listened to about 5 minutes of the Sean Hannity radio program, and as part of his schtick he had gone out and asked Democrat voters to name one thing Osbama has ever accomplished. The vast majority said, "I can't think of any, I just like him." Those who had an answer came up with this distinguished list of accomplishments: he's black, he gives good speeches, and he's a Senator. Hmmm...that doesn't exactly inspire confidence that he can lead this country. I'd say he's fully qualified to be the mayor of something.
So that leaves me to vote for a Republican. Now, just a few weeks ago I was pretty fired up about Mike Huckabee. I mean, here's a guy who truly loves the Lord, bases his every decision on that faith, and is the strongest proponent of a fair tax. The primaries aren't going well for Mike, however, and I expect him to drop out pretty quick rather than continue to throw money out the jump door. Grandpa Ron will probably stay in the race because he's just crazy enough to keep going until someone makes him crawl back under whatever rock used to be his home. He's cute--here is a guy with a passionate following (all three percent of them) who had absolutely no chance of ever getting elected. But he keeps standing up there getting ignored, bellowing out his barbaric yalp. He's like the special needs student who stays up on stage and keeps singing even though the entire class exited stage right, and he keeps right on going until someone mercifully takes him by the hand and drags him away. And so that leaves us with John McCain as likely our only choice. I've been talking about politics, and here comes the part about religion--see, truly a double fool! As a discerning Christian, it is evident to me that John McCain does not believe in God. If you'd like me to cite the evidence I could go down that rabbit trail, but being that I'm the one doing the typing, I'll not do that just now. People keep citing McCain as a war hero, and I am uncomfortable with that tag in his case. He had the misfortune of being shot down early in the Vietnam War, and he had the incredible intestinal fortitude to stay alive as a POW for seven years. Even with that resume, I do not place the hero tag lightly. Just recently I read the book Sole Survivor, written by Marcus Luttrell. Luttrell is a Navy Seal, and he was part of a four-man team who was dropped in the middle of Nowhere, Afghanistan, to keep an eye on one of Osama bin Laden's henchmen. I would highly recommend this book--it gives a great explanation of why Luttrell does not believe we can win this war, and he is a soldier very loyal to the country and the President. His theory has a lot to do with the soldier who was just convicted of murder earlier this week--the guy was a sniper in an exposed position. A friggin' goatherder walked up on him, and the guy was faced with an immediate decision--make the proper military decision and eliminate the unarmed threat and therefore face almost certain criminal charges, or allow him to leave knowing full well he will send the bad guys your way virtually immediately. You can't win a war--because lots of people die in wars, particularly when the enemy looks and dresses exactly like the innocent--if you're afraid to kill people because they might not have an AK-47 or an IED under that robe...or maybe they do, and instead of appearing before a military tribunal, you get to go home in a rubber bodybag. Anyway, back to Luttrell. His team was attacked by an enemy force of over 140 men, heavily armed and well trained, and Luttrell was the only one to make it out alive. And even that was only after a week of incredible hardship and danger. The hero part comes in here--Seal Team 4 was commanded by Lt. Michael Murphy. After being seriously wounded three or four times, being blown down cliff faces three times, and fighting until he was almost completely out of ammunition, Lt. Murphy walked out to a fully exposed spot because he knew that only a cell phone call back to the base would give any of his team a chance to survive. He sat on a rock in the middle of a clearing and completed his call, and while out there he was shot again in the head, severe enough that part of his skull was misplaced and his head took on a misshapen appearance. Even that did not kill him, and he managed to scramble back to his team to continue the fight. Eventually, though, his body did succumb to its injuries, and he gave his life for his country, as did two more men on the team. Luttrell survived largely due to the phone call that Murphy made. Michael Murphy was posthumously awarded the Medal of Honor. Folks, that is a hero. I just don't think McCain's accomplishment as a survivor, heinous though it was in the Hanoi Hilton, is in that same vein.
To vote or not to vote. If I vote for someone, I have the right to complain. If I don't, I can blame everyone. What to do, what to do...
Sunday, February 10, 2008
I fancy myself an amateur photographer, which is to say I have a camera and don't get paid for my pictures. This picture is from about two weeks ago when we got 4-5" of snow, looking southeast from the back deck of our house. I thought the snow was beautiful sitting on the railing, and I like the symmetry of the spindles. As long as it took me to put the durn thing together, I'm glad I was able to get at least one picture out of it. That, and I hope it keeps children, dogs, and rodents from falling the 10' off our deck to the tundra below.
Brenna had her very first birthday party yesterday, and it was a wild time, let me tell you. I don't know how most people celebrate birthdays, but around here it's like a pack of feral dogs have been let loose to storm the palace. In asking Brenna to recount her favorite activity with her three little friends, she said, "Playing dollhouse." That may not sound exciting to you (or me), but to an almost-six-year-old with new Troy and Gabriella dolls, it was fast times. They had craft time, played games, did a combination slide/limbo with the ballet bar, and ate cake. Six candles on the cake, and how many times do you suppose it took her to blow them out? One? No sir. Two? Uh uh. Three? Not even. It took her four times to blow out six candles. That's either poor aim or a lack of wind. Must be time for her to hit the stepicizer. In the end, a good time was had by all, and the will shortly be back in order. Birthday party #1 is in the book for the Peanut.
We skipped church this morning. Most of us are going to Sunday School here in a few minutes, but didn't make it to the Lord's House for church (at Bethel, we have the main service at 9:15 and follow it up with SS). The Octopus had a fever yesterday, Irksome has been fighting a respitory/sinus thing all week, the Natural was wiped out from too many days in a row of getting up early/working hard at practice and needed to recharge his batteries, and Hot Wife is in charge of rehabbing the Octopus. The Peanut and Pumpkin Spice were ready to roll, but neither of them is allowed to drive yet. I just heard Black Bart say from his driveway spot, "God forbid." The only reason we're going to SS today is because I have a meeting during the SS hour with the school committee. God has put it on my heart to start a school in our church (I'll go more into this on another occasion), and we're meeting today to continue with a compilation of our thoughts and research. In spite of missing church today, I know that God still loves me, and He likes me too. I am convinced that people who say, "I believe in God, but I don't think that I have to go to church to be a Christian," are all wet. The Bible says not to forsake gathering together, and I believe we need other people to keep us accountable. Even so, I hope that missing today doesn't renew my former status as a heathen.
I'm looking a bit Jeremiah Johnson this morning, so I better go scrape some hair off my face. Power to the puffins.
Thursday, February 7, 2008
No contest, really
Tonight the boy had his first ever wrestling meet. As it happened, and wasn't it lucky for me, the Dub (aka West Central) was grapplin' against the Valley (aka Kankakee Valley). Now, I could go on and on here, but for the sake of expediency, the picture to the left there is the nice man getting ready to tap out on behalf of the student-athlete from the Valley. This proved to be a recurring theme for the contest. Final tally: the Dub 126, the Valley 48. Boys and girls, that's a butt-kickin'. KV managed eight wins, all by pin, but the Dub won 20 matches by pin and another two by points. 22-8...that's a win in everything but golf. Before I can get too many good pictures of wrestling I'll have to buy a bigger zoom for the cam and figure out how to speed up the shutter. Wrestlers move even faster than basketballers. Drew was really nervous going into the meet, as it was his first time wearing a Speedo in front of a big crowd (a singlet is a little longer than a Speedo, but no less revealing; tough to cover up your bits and pieces, but fortunately for Drew he runs about 3% body fat), but we're all pretty thrilled with the results. I gotta tell ya, it made the Old Man pretty proud when the nice man tapped out the bad guys twice, both times pretty quick-like. The second kid was a little stronger and actually had the Drewster on the mat for a few seconds--literally; he was there for about two seconds, then Drew scored two on a reversal--which made Hot Wife a little anxious. For those of you from the Valley (and I know you're out there), it always feels a bit like David vs. Goliath when the Dub comes up against a school that's about four times as big, and I prefer to root for David. The grappling group from the Dub looks pretty strong this year. There are five or six kids I can think of who I would guess will wind up with a really good record. I can say this authoritatively because I've been a wrestling dad for almost two hours. 2 and 0...far to go.
The picture to the left shows a bit of the personality of Brookie. I hope you can tell from the picture--you may have to click on it and blow it up a bit--that she has glasses now. Yet another thing she was lucky enough to inherit from Pop. She went from being a 10-year-old cutie to looking about four years older overnight. She went for an interesting pair of glasses (Vera Bradley, who apparently is multitalented--lady's bags and glasses), and they definitely fit her personality. Alex actually cleaned her room a few weeks ago to the point that we could make sure she still had carpet and it was still purple, so out of sheer gratitude we allowed her to have two friends over for a bit of play. Her favorite thing to do (and Brenna too) is to dress up, and that they did, pom pom wigs and all. Alex, her two friends, and Brenna each found one of my old jerseys and sallied themselves up considerable. Her friends are identical twins, so putting themselves in costumes didn't help me any with the identification process. I guessed twice and was wrong both times. Call me a simpleton, but I found the girls pretty entertaining.I read a few of the old blog entries last night, and it left me itching for another trip to the land of moose and lobster. I wonder how much crop insurance I'll have to sell to buy my own tiny island just off the coast of Maine...probably a lot. By the way, it occurred to me to say itching for another trip to the land of moose and crabs, but I didn't think anybody would get it...
If they ever decide the dollar has devalued too much be useful, I hope we switch to using Junior Mints for currency.
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
I'm only one, but...
I can't speak for anyone else, but I, for one, am certainly enjoying the weather. That is to say, I'm enjoying it right now. About two hours ago, when it was raining, I didn't like that. But I do like the snow. It seems to me that February 6 is a wonderful day for snow, maybe a good nor'easter; heck, I could even go for a little bit of freezing rain once in a while. But flooding...? No, thanks very much, I shall pass on that little bit of fun.
For all those of you out there who prefer to believe the Bible is a fairy tale, and that the parts about the 7 years of tribulation are a bunch of hooey, does all the weird weather make you squirm just a little bit? The rivers around here haven't peaked yet, but predictions are that they will peak two feet above where they were three weeks ago. That would make this our third 100-year flood since 2003! I'm not so great at math--I was originally accepted at Purdue as an engineering major, but changed my major before school even started after seeing the four-year plan of math and science--but even so, I am certain that February 2008 minus January 2008 minus July 2003 does not equal 100 years, and certainly not 300 years as it should. Back to the Purdue thing for just a second; I didn't like the four-year math/science route, so instead I opted for the 6-1/2 year business/construction/education route. Probably not such a great choice, particularly now that I'm in the crop insurance business!
This is a gratuitous picture that has nothing to do with anything, but I thought I'd throw it in there for my own edification. This is a shot of Grandma Martha and Makayla when we all met at the Holidome in Indy back in early August. Even as I write this, it's hard to believe that it's been over two months since Martha died. You know, before she got sick, I knew virtually nothing about Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis. I did not know anyone who had the disease. The only thing I knew about it was that it was more commonly known as Lou Gehrig's disease, and it was ultimately fatal. Now, we've lost Martha, we have heard of five or six other people in Pulaski county with ALS, and I know of another man who was just diagnosed with the disease yesterday, also in Pulaski county. That's a little bizarre. It certainly makes you think it might have some environmental influences or causes. Anyway, not to put a macabre spin on this little posting, but it popped into my head, and since I'm doing the typing, it made it to the Internet for perpituity.
I wonder if green spiders spin stronger webs than black spiders. Green M&Ms have always been my favorite for the same reason they've always been your's. To me the brown ones look too much like rabbit turds. A guy brought some dark chocolate peanut M&Ms to the office today, and I thought, "These are the perfect food." We all know that peanuts provide excellent protein and fiber, and I just read in Reader's Digest that dark chocolate lowers blood pressure and cholesterol. I thought about eating the entire bag, but that seemed somewhat selfish.
Ever wish you could work with clay? Just take a big sloppy hunk of wet clay out of a burlap bag, plop it down on a turntable, stick your hands in there, spin the doohickie with your feet, and begin modeling to your little heart's content...me too. I bet God had a great time when he was creating the world. Kind of like the ultimate modeling clay.
Stuff and nonsense--that's me.
For all those of you out there who prefer to believe the Bible is a fairy tale, and that the parts about the 7 years of tribulation are a bunch of hooey, does all the weird weather make you squirm just a little bit? The rivers around here haven't peaked yet, but predictions are that they will peak two feet above where they were three weeks ago. That would make this our third 100-year flood since 2003! I'm not so great at math--I was originally accepted at Purdue as an engineering major, but changed my major before school even started after seeing the four-year plan of math and science--but even so, I am certain that February 2008 minus January 2008 minus July 2003 does not equal 100 years, and certainly not 300 years as it should. Back to the Purdue thing for just a second; I didn't like the four-year math/science route, so instead I opted for the 6-1/2 year business/construction/education route. Probably not such a great choice, particularly now that I'm in the crop insurance business!
This is a gratuitous picture that has nothing to do with anything, but I thought I'd throw it in there for my own edification. This is a shot of Grandma Martha and Makayla when we all met at the Holidome in Indy back in early August. Even as I write this, it's hard to believe that it's been over two months since Martha died. You know, before she got sick, I knew virtually nothing about Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis. I did not know anyone who had the disease. The only thing I knew about it was that it was more commonly known as Lou Gehrig's disease, and it was ultimately fatal. Now, we've lost Martha, we have heard of five or six other people in Pulaski county with ALS, and I know of another man who was just diagnosed with the disease yesterday, also in Pulaski county. That's a little bizarre. It certainly makes you think it might have some environmental influences or causes. Anyway, not to put a macabre spin on this little posting, but it popped into my head, and since I'm doing the typing, it made it to the Internet for perpituity.
I wonder if green spiders spin stronger webs than black spiders. Green M&Ms have always been my favorite for the same reason they've always been your's. To me the brown ones look too much like rabbit turds. A guy brought some dark chocolate peanut M&Ms to the office today, and I thought, "These are the perfect food." We all know that peanuts provide excellent protein and fiber, and I just read in Reader's Digest that dark chocolate lowers blood pressure and cholesterol. I thought about eating the entire bag, but that seemed somewhat selfish.
Ever wish you could work with clay? Just take a big sloppy hunk of wet clay out of a burlap bag, plop it down on a turntable, stick your hands in there, spin the doohickie with your feet, and begin modeling to your little heart's content...me too. I bet God had a great time when he was creating the world. Kind of like the ultimate modeling clay.
Stuff and nonsense--that's me.
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Time for the old man to brag a little
They say not to pat your own back, because you might break your arm in the process. So I won't. Except to say that I must have some darn fine genes. Pay attention...that's genes, not jeans, for you folks who aren't so good with the vocabulary.
Drew's basketball team is 1-8, which obviously isn't so good. Of course, that is one more win that I ever managed as a head football coach, much to my consternation. For you jeans people, that means I didn't much care for it. Now, 1-8 stinketh, but this much is true: Drew is the man. He scored 14 in a losing effort to Pioneer on Tuesday night. They got beat by 3, and Pioneer is I think undefeated, and I know they won the Midwest Conference tournament. He scored 16 when they got beat by Winamac on Monday night. They have one game left (next Monday at home against South Newton for those of you keeping score), and to this point he is averaging probably 10-12 per game, and there's no question he's the best player on the team. Being that their record is what it is that might not be saying much, but he is routinely guarded by the other team's best player, and WC's coach is finally having Drew defend their best guard. Let it be known that I did beat him in a game of one-on-one last night while wearing cowboy boots. He's twelve now, and the old man can still take him. Woo-hoo!
Maybe I can treat this thing as more of a journal, spend 15-20 minutes putting something up, and post pictures only on occasion. The pictures are really a pain with blogspot.
Brenna's PE class at the Dub shifted into swimming mode today...God help us. If Brenna had fun swimming 27 days in a row, she still would throw a fit about swimming that 28th day. She's really hard to reason with--it's a lot like reasoning with a newel post. She invariably has her way of thinking, but it's bankrupt. Brenna is a perfect example of why 5-year-olds aren't allowed to run for President. Kinda like why we must not, must not elect that Hillary.
I've taken up residence at Jim Dobson Ford in Winamac. In the past three weeks, I believe I've made five or six trips there for various reasons. Oil change in Black Bart, service bulletin work in Black Bart (two trips), air won't get warm in Blue Van (two trips)... at least they have popcorn and ESPN. Come to think of it, maybe I do enjoy going there. I've got Steve on a hunt for a silver, half-ton, 4-wheel drive, crew cab, 40-20-40 front seat, Ford truck. If any of you have one of those in your front yard you'd like to sell me, let me know.
Y'all come back now, hear?
Drew's basketball team is 1-8, which obviously isn't so good. Of course, that is one more win that I ever managed as a head football coach, much to my consternation. For you jeans people, that means I didn't much care for it. Now, 1-8 stinketh, but this much is true: Drew is the man. He scored 14 in a losing effort to Pioneer on Tuesday night. They got beat by 3, and Pioneer is I think undefeated, and I know they won the Midwest Conference tournament. He scored 16 when they got beat by Winamac on Monday night. They have one game left (next Monday at home against South Newton for those of you keeping score), and to this point he is averaging probably 10-12 per game, and there's no question he's the best player on the team. Being that their record is what it is that might not be saying much, but he is routinely guarded by the other team's best player, and WC's coach is finally having Drew defend their best guard. Let it be known that I did beat him in a game of one-on-one last night while wearing cowboy boots. He's twelve now, and the old man can still take him. Woo-hoo!
Maybe I can treat this thing as more of a journal, spend 15-20 minutes putting something up, and post pictures only on occasion. The pictures are really a pain with blogspot.
Brenna's PE class at the Dub shifted into swimming mode today...God help us. If Brenna had fun swimming 27 days in a row, she still would throw a fit about swimming that 28th day. She's really hard to reason with--it's a lot like reasoning with a newel post. She invariably has her way of thinking, but it's bankrupt. Brenna is a perfect example of why 5-year-olds aren't allowed to run for President. Kinda like why we must not, must not elect that Hillary.
I've taken up residence at Jim Dobson Ford in Winamac. In the past three weeks, I believe I've made five or six trips there for various reasons. Oil change in Black Bart, service bulletin work in Black Bart (two trips), air won't get warm in Blue Van (two trips)... at least they have popcorn and ESPN. Come to think of it, maybe I do enjoy going there. I've got Steve on a hunt for a silver, half-ton, 4-wheel drive, crew cab, 40-20-40 front seat, Ford truck. If any of you have one of those in your front yard you'd like to sell me, let me know.
Y'all come back now, hear?
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