Here comes a new year

Gads, 2010 staring us in the face.  Like it was only yesterday we clocked in for the next century. 

We've been invited to a party this evening.  The host said it was a Crisco party and that we should bring 6 large tins of shortening.  While I don't really know what type of party this is going to be I'm guessing that we're doing some deep frying tonight.  I'd love some fried chicken or fried weenies.  Hopefully one or both are on the Crisco party menu.

I have not made any New Year's resolutions for I've run out of things to do.  They've all been done.  Maybe I'll come up with a couple after tonight's party.

The visit yesterday to the Dodge dealer brought good news:  No sign of any mice or any damage.  That's not to say we're mice free.  I'll have them check again in a couple of weeks.  The dealer only charged for a half hours work which was definitely worth it in terms of peace of mind.

Bob the Marina Guy has his new teeth.  He shows everyone his teeth.  Bob's hoping that he can evoke a line from Goldilocks and the Three Bears when someone of the opposite sex says, "Bob, what nice teeth you have."  He plans coming back with, "All the better to eat you with, my dear."  That would be a typical line from moat any Bob I know.

We'll have the steak dinner I promised once Marina Bob feels comfortable eating out.  This should be in a couple of weeks.  Hopefully Bob will let me take photos of our dinner out which I'll post here.

Be safe tonight.

An Early Morning Letter

We subscribe to three newspapers:  The Cowtown News, The Wall Street Journal and the San Francisco Chronicle.   Each are delivered in the morning long before anyone on this street is up and at 'em.

Having been a paper boy I know well the rigors of the business.  Today's carriers drive a car.  At age ten I rode my bike to deliver the papers - all 100 of them.  It's mostly a thankless job.  People bitch more at how and when their paper is delivered than they do at appreciating their carriers.

Come time to pay for each subscription I make it a habit of including a tip for the carrier.  Like how much can this job pay?  Not a lot.  How much money for fuel for their car is paid for out of their pocket?  A lot.  Bearing those things in mind I know that it's the right thing to tip the carrier generously.

Several weeks before Christmas the carrier who delivers the WSJ and the Chronicle included a Christmas card with the morning papers.  The card included her address.  Normally I would have seen this as solicitation for a return card from her customers and some money for Christmas - - - and not liked that.  But this carrier is different.  Each holiday she includes a little candy treat or a card for her customers.  Nothing is asked in return.   I've also received thank you cards from her for the tip I include with the bi-monthly subscription money.  Neat lady.  You don't find carriers like this.

So we made out a Christmas card addressed to our carrier and included a nice little amount as a gift.  After all, it 'tis the season.

This morning tucked in with the morning papers was an envelope addressed to us and from the carrier.  Inside was a letter that had been word processed and printed:

"Gabriel and Nathaniel (last name omitted) would like to thank you for the money, gift cards and goods that we got for Christmas from my paper people.  Because it gave them a good Christmas.  I know the times are hard and in my family we are feeling it a lot, too.  Your help gave the boys their Christmas.  The boys send all their love to all who cared this  year.  The boys like you to know that Gabriel is 6 years old and in first grade.  And Nathaniel is 3 years olf and goes to Head Start.  I'm thankful too for all the gifts and help because we would not have had a Christmas this year.  Thank you." and signed by our carrier.  

Nothing like welling up and shedding a few tears in the wee hours of the morning.  God bless people who are appreciative of a hand up and not a hand out.  Ya just gotta love them.

As we look at the coming New Year I thought that including this letter would help each of you to frame your resolutions.

Be thankful for what you have and help others who have little or nothing.

SHIT!  What next?!!

So I'm driving home this morning after running errands.  Nice drive.  Sirius satellite radio tuned to their jazz channel.  Cool stuff being played.  I'm in my chee . . .

Out of the corner of my eye I see something move on the hood of the truck's hood.  A mouse sticks its head out of the hood just next to the wipers.  What a cutie, I thought.

Second thought:  Oh, crap.  I know what that means.  A friend just went through the hassle of having mice set up housekeeping in her Lexus.  Major damage in the thousands.

Tomorrow I have an appointment with the Dodge dealer to find the next of mice and determine how much damage has been done to the truck.

I just finished putting the Last Supper thoughtfully in and around the garage. Can't have freaking mice procreate by the dozens under my roof.  Eat up, little critters!  EAT UP!

It wouldn't be life if things like this didn't happen.  Think of how boring every day living would be.

HOLD THE PHONE!

There's nothing wrong.  Nothing has happened.  Sorry for confusion but thankful for your responses.

Yesterday's post was music from American Beauty and end of film Kevin Spacey lines.  That should ring a bell for all those who have seen this film.

I guess I should not take anything for granted.

Ya think?

....I guess I could be pretty pissed off about what happened to me.
But it's hard to stay mad when there's so much beauty in the world.

Sometimes I feel like I am seeing it all at once and my heart fills up like a balloon that's about to burst, and then I remember to relax and stop trying to hold on to it, and then it flows through me like rain and I can't feel any thing but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid little life. You have no idea what I am talking about I am sure, but don't worry you will someday.''

No Place Like Home for the Holidays

We're home for the holidays as are a lot of people.   There's nothing like being home.  Today, ham and eggs breakfast.  Lunch will be left over clam chowder from Christmas Eve.  Dinner is pot roast with roasted vegetables.

The latter is definitely not traditional but certainly an all American meal.  Why pot roast?  Tired of ham.  Tired of turkey.  Tired of prime rib.  So, why not pot roast with vegetables, mashed potatoes, gravy preceded by Caesar salad?  I bought a lean cut of beef - bottom round that has close to no fat.  Apart from the eating beef part there really can be a more "good for you" cut of meat.  There will be eggnog drinks.  Desert (chocolate cake and pumpkin pie).

Apart from the celebration of the birth of Christ, the exchange of gifts, and the gathering of relatives, don't you think a large part of the Christmas celebration is food and drink?  Would the holiday be the same without the traditional array of good things to eat? 

Wifey wants to go sailing around noon of which I am hesitant.  The lake is low.  Very low - like at least 30 to 40 feet less than what it was the end of September.  Parks Service personnel intentionally drain a full lake in time for the influx of winter rain water runoff.  The marina personnel are off for the holiday.  If Sparkle Plenty runs aground and it could - - - as there are lots of places to do that even in the middle of the lake, there's no one to pull the boat off of the sandbar.  Yeah, I could pull an Humphrey Bogart African Queen thing (you do remember that film, don't you?).  Bob standing on the sandbar, rope in hand and over the shoulder which is attached to the bow of the boat.  Heave ho!  Moving 3 tons of boat by rope in hand would not be an easy task to accomplish.

I'd love to be on the lake today.  Temps will be well over 60, a slight wind just enough to fill the sails and NO ONE ELSE on the lake!  Yup.  There's likely to be no one else boating today.

Anyway, sailing Christmas Day is something to consider and may not happen all in the name of good common sense.....something every skipper should have.

The photo is of course Gracie adorned with her fake, smile for the camera look.  That's the best she could pull off.

Merry Christmas!

Are You Doing "It" For Christmas?

I hope you brought your spurs.......

'Twas the night before Christmas

'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house - not a creature was stirring WHAT WAS THAT?  A MOUSE?!!

Wifey and I are tucked into bed with visions of 100 dollar bills dancing in our heads.  Then, thud, thud.  It was the sound of something scampering across a wooden threshold just outside the master bedroom.  It's 11:30 p.m. and I'm awake all thanks to whatever it was that kept jumping around outside.

I open the slider to the patio and catch a glimpse of a little brown and black furry creature scurrying around the corner of the house.  Hmmmm.  Rat or mouse?  Too big for a mouse.  Could it be a rat?

We live in an area where wild land are on two sides of the property.  Deer (a mom and her two twins passed by yesterday), Coyote, Possums, Skunks, Bob cats, and bear along with an assortment of birds frequent this area.  To the rear of our property sits a ranch that's home to chickens and horses.  That alone tells me that rats and/or mice might migrate from there to here.

I tell myself to live and let live.  It's the Christmas spirit.  Why not feed the little rascals a holiday meal.  Yeah, why not?

A trip to the local hardware store yields a rodent meal fit for a rat or mouse.  You could also call it the Last Supper for right on the carton of "food" in bold letters is written:  FAST KILL!

I put out the Last Supper for my furry friends and know it's the right thing to do.  Rodents carry disease.  With our dogs, Gracie and her friends who frequent our home it's a matter of applying that ounce of prevention that is worth a pound of cure. 

First night:  Four sets of bait set out.  Come morning:  None left.

Second night:  Four sets of bait set out:  Come morning:  One left.

Third night:  Four sets of bait set out:  Come morning:  Four left.

Sorry little guys.  It had to be done for It 'twas the night before Christmas and all through the house not a creature was stirring not even a mouse........

A CHRISTMAS POEM

Roses are red.

Violets are bluish.

If it wasn't for Christmas,

We'd all be Jewish.

Dude - get over it!

Ring.  Ring.  Ring.  It was the telephone.  Someone was calling at 11:30 p.m. on a Friday night.  After checking the Caller ID to see who it was I cradled the phone and went back to bed.  No one I knew.  Maybe is was the wrong number. 

Having been in the educational business I'm accustomed to prank telephone calls and other deeds of mischief.  Caller ID has cut the prank calls down to zilch.  All I have to do is call the prankster back, preferably when mom or dad answers the phone.  My call back usually results in that prankster never calling back again.

A couple of weeks ago the house was hit with close to a dozen paint balls.  Only house in the neighborhood that was paint balled.  Pranksters?  Random act of kindness? Ha.  No big deal.  Washed off the paint.  The house was none less for the wear. I figured being paint balled was all due to who I was and didn't give it another thought. 

Ring.  Ring.  Ring.  It was the telephone.  The clock said 12:30 a.m. Sunday morning, the night after the 11:30 p.m. call.  I checked the called ID  same person calling.  Hmmmm.  Let it ring. 

I decided not to call the mysterious middle of the night caller.  Let it be, I thought.  Calling back sometimes aggravates the situation.  If the caller thinks that no one cares about their middle of the night telephone call or that no one heard the phone ring then maybe they'll give up.  Maybe.  At least that was my thinking.

Ring.  Ring.  Ring.  The phone rings Tuesday morning at 10:30.  Call ID says it's the same caller who called Friday night and early Sunday morning.  Enough is enough, I thought . . . and reached to answer the phone.  Too late.  They had already hung up.

I wait a half hour then call the number on our Caller ID - the number of the mysterious caller.

Her:  Hello?

Me:  Your telephone is calling my telephone at all hours of the day and night.  Is this a mistake or do you have something to tell me?

Her:  Just a minute.

The phone is handed over to another female.

Her:  Hello?

I repeat what I said to the first caller.

Her:  Ohhhh, your phone number is one digit off of my girl friend Rosie's phone number.  I get them mixed up.  Sorry, it won't happen again.

Me:  I hope so.  You called at 11:30 one night and 12:30 the next.   You need to get your fingers together and dial the right number. 

Her:  I said that I was sorry.  Dude, get over it.

Me:  You get over it and stop calling.

Click.

Dude get over it?  I just love the current generation.  They are so respectful.

I Gotta Be Me

Wifey:  What are you doing?

Me:  What do you think what I'm doing?

Wifey:  Sounding like a chicken.

Me:  Well, yeah.  It's that time of year.  I always do Christmas Carols sounding like a chicken.  Gotta be me, don't ya know?  Wanna hear Silent Night?   Or, how about I'm Getting Nothing For Christmas? 

Wifey:  My mother warned me about you.

Me:  What she didn't warn you about is all of the money I'd bring into the family to put with your money to make a million plus bucks.  Wanna get naked and roll in all of our money?  It's the season to go green.

Wifey:  Light the candles.  Fire up the Jacuzzi.  Bring on the wads of cash.  You're on for a green throw down.

They'll figure it out

In my leisure it's not unusual for me to take command of the kitchen (like any good captain would) and whip up something new for dinner.  Nine times out of ten it's a good thing. 

Have you noticed that cans of food in the super market are getting lighter?  Yup, one way to boost profits is to cut what's in the can so the manufacturer can produce more cans of whatever using the same amount of contents overall but less in each can and earn the same amount of money.  They're happy.  The consumer is once again screwed. 

If you cook a lot or even a little you know that recipes call for stuff in ounces or pounds.  Take for example Christmas Pasta, a favorite of mine for well over four years.  You can find it under Christmas Pasta on the FoodTV website.  Anyway, the recipe calls for 32 ounces of crushed tomatoes.  No such animal.  Crushed tomatoes have been downsized to 28 ounces.

When the manufacturers decided to reduce the amount in each can of tomatoes they knew well what recipes call for.  They're not calling for 28 ounces of tomatoes but for 32 ounces.  I guess in making this decision they thought that the consumer would figure out what to do.  They'll figure it out!

So I add the 28 ounce can of crushed tomatoes to my recipe and then add a 14 ounce can of chopped tomatoes.  I figured it out.  Actually, the addition of the chopped tomatoes make for a better sauce.

Today I'm cooking Knife and Fork Beef Stroganoff Burgers.  You can find this on the CBS TV web page under the Rachel Ray show.  It calls for 2 cups of beef stock.  Unless you use bullion cubes it's going to be hard to find 2 cups of beef stock on the shelves of your local market.  The cans have been downsized to 14.5 ounces.  Yup.  I come up with 29 ounces of beef stock via canned beef stock instead of the 32 called for in the recipe.

Am I splitting hairs here?  Probably.  But the thought remains that time and time again the consumer is hoodwinked and few know that they've been had.  It's the principle of the thing.  For the manufacturer it's not the principle but it's about business.

Today I'll make up the small difference in stock with a little water.  Should be no big deal.

I wrote here eons ago when Dreyers's ice cream cut the amount in their containers big time and sold them for the same amount of cash.  Like we wouldn't notice?  That means we run out of ice cream sooner all due to a reduced size of Dreyer's ice cream which equates into more sales for Dreyer's.  I should quit while I'm ahead in the name of clear arteries and lay off the ice cream.  Ya think?

Wifey says life is not so much how you take it but what you make of it.   She's right.  If you don't change up in life when it's called for you'll be driven crazy.  Nuts.  Whacko.  Loco. 

I just know that good Lord puts modern day challenges before us.  He does that to keep us thinking.  When this happens I just know what his thinking is:   They'll figure it out.

And we will, won't we.......

Some things I just don't understand

Yesterday in the Wall Street Journal it was reported that the annual cost to support one solder in Afghanistan is a million bucks.  The article went on to state that 250-350 thousand of that amount is in fuel costs.  

One soldier = a millions bucks.  I can't quite understand the rationale behind the thinking to increase the troops in Afghanistan when the stakes are so high ....in lives....in money.   And the results of our efforts there are likely to come up short.  For what?

My gawd, we could wipe out starvation the world around if the money used to fight this war was put to such a noble cause.  While we're on this subject and BTW:  Wifey and Bob just made a sizable contribution to the Lalmba Foundation to help fund their African medical and education endeavors. 

Okay, where was I.......America needs to get back to minding their own business and looking after its citizens.   We can't even stem the tide of illegals floating over our borders let alone win a war on the other side of the world.   Who are we trying to kid anyway?

Sitting here at the computer, composing this an old Beatles song runs through my head:  Get Back.  I'm think America needs to get back.  Get back!

"Get back, get back
Get back to where you once belonged
Get back, get back
Get back to where you once belonged
Get back, Jojo
Go home

Get back, get back
Back to where you once belonged
Get back, get back
Back to where you once belonged
Get back, Jo"

Sometimes it's a reach

I've always felt that if you're going to maintain a blog that it's important to write in it.  Why keep the damn thing open if you don't do that regularly?  Often times though it's a reach to write anything of substance.   Hmm, what to write, what to write  . . . goes through my mind at all hours of the day and night.  Is this place an obsession of mine?  After posting 1,200 pieces of Lord knows what, you could say just that.  Bob is obsessed.

I could write about Wifey's visit yesterday to the church Gracie and her family attends.   Grace's family were chosen to light an Advent candle and recite several Scriptures.  This is a different church, one that professes that one must accept Jesus as their Lord and Savior as being the only ticket into Paradise.   The Devil is denounced at every opportune moment - he's everywhere they say.  During choral singing hands are waved in the air which adds a different touch to our church going experience.   The church also teaches that women must serve their men . . . no bitching . . . just do what it takes to serve your man.  Need I say more about the foundation of this church?

Wifey and I have attended religious service since we were both in diapers.  To state that we must openly accept Jesus as our Lord and Savior before we are allowed into Heaven makes us stand there with our mouths open and muttering "Huh?"  Doesn't that sentiment go with the territory of being spiritual/religious?  I mean if you go to church or of a God fearing, Jesus loving nature that pretty says it.  YOU BELIEVE! 

Different stokes for different folks.

That's the sum total of what's in Bob's bank of things to write about.  Hopefully it will be replenished come Tuesday.

It's Monday.   Happy work week, people.

Cowtown 12 Days Of Christmas

Where I Want to Be

Gracie's other grandmother's memorial service is at 2 today. I'm thinking anywhere but there. I so very much hate things like that.

So, during the services in my head I'll be sailing somewhere warm. Drink in hand. Chicken wings frying down in the cabin. Wheel in the other. This song playing on Sparkle Plenty's sound system.

Where I want to be.......

Not the Land of Milk and Honey

What do you think of when you heard that American is the land of milk and honey?  I think horseshit, that's what I think.  Back in the day you could rest assured that America was prosperous enough to earn that moniker but no more.   Unemployment rate in double digits.   Scads of home foreclosures.   Children living in squalor and suffering from malnutrition.   Need I go on?  This is not the America we used to know.

But you could think of the new America in different terms.   Change milk and honey to fat and sodium.  Plenty of that stuff going around.  Check any food container label or the nutritional analysis of the fast good that you choke down two or three times a week.  Loaded with salt.   Loaded with fat.    Or America could be referred to as being the land of Pork and Corruption.   But milk and honey we are not.  What's happened to us?

During the time of Milk and Honey movies used to be worth seeing.  They even had a message for the audience or a moral.  Gone.   I'm thinking that films made today reflect our culture, our society, who we are as Americans.   That's a pretty sad state if films are used as the stick to measure who we are.

Then there's music.   Music today focuses on and play to the idiots of our culture.   Most musicians can carry a tune unless there's a bunch of F bombs in the lyrics.   Lowbrow shit.  Nobody is writing music that's going to endure the test of time - like was written during the Milk and Honey period.  

Then I read today about a criminal on trial in Florida for Lord knows what.   So that the jury doesn't get the wrong idea on who this guy is the court has hired a makeup artist to cover up some of the tattoos on him - like the Swastika on his neck for one.   If I were the judge I'd want the jury to know everything about the scumbag and not protect him.   Geeze.  Points out that who you are is defined not only by the company that you keep but also on the tatt's you put on your body.  The makeup artist is your tax dollars at work and what a waste that is.

Enough of counting my blessings.  Have an LOL on Bob while you're at it.

Brrrrrrrr

Cold is not the word.  Freezing!  It's been under 20 every morning this week. For some under 20 is a heat wave.  For those living in sunny California under 20 is colder than a tiches wit!  It's close to the winter equinox what the hell do I expect?  Now all we need is rain to fill the lakes and make the farmers happy.  At this time of year our neck of the woods should have well over 10 inches of rain.  We've only gotten 4 inches.  What I hate about that it is likely we'll get 40 days and 40 nights of it - - - non-stop.  It's nice to have a little rain now with sunshine inbetween.   Looks like that is not happening this year.

With the cold weather we've had the wood stove brightly burning every day with a little supplemental heat from the forced air system.  Wifey heads off to the gym each morning by 5:30 and I head to the wood pile to gather enough to kindle a burn in the stove.   Nice routine unless you love lard assing in bed all morning . . . which we do not.  Gotta make hay while the sun shines.

Gerald, our window washer, is coming out to wash all of them inside and out.   That's one chore I absolutely hate.  Bob does not do windows.   Everything else but not the windows.  Gerald does a great job so why mess with something if it's not broken.  A while back Gerald thought he could make a living by playing Internet poker  .  .  .you know, the games that are available on line that are based "off shore".   He lost his ass (predictable)  and is back doing what he knows and what Gerald does best . . . .he does windows.  

Yesterday I wrote about Marina Bob and his soon to be installed set of false teeth.  What I didn't mention is that Bob is a recovering meth addict who lost his chompers due to the use of that terrible drug.  New teeth for Bob is like a success story for him.   Off the shit.  Gainfully and happily employed.  Well liked by those who frequent the marina.   That hole in Bob's smile is gonna be fixed real soon.  There will be photos here of our steak dinner.

The picture posted here is of the holiday cheer that's anchored on the front lawn.   What else would I have on the lawn other than Santa skippering his boat? 

Frozen nuts?

WHOO HOO!  WELCOME TO POST NUMBER 1,200!!!

Yes, frozen nuts.  Yesterday I made the 10 minute drive to the lake to check on Sparkle Plenty.  When I arrived it was clear as a bell and 38 degrees just outside of the truck.  A long walk down the dock and to the end of the marina 38 degrees it was not.  Ice covered a large portion of the boat's forward deck.  A stiff wind was blowing from the south west which probably created a wind chill of 32 or less.

It didn't take long and Bob done did froze his nuts off.  Cold fingers (damn gloves with holes in the fingers are worthless in that kind of weather).   Cold nose and everything else.

I did what was needed.  Opened up the cabin to check the dehumidifier.  Looked for cabin leaks.  Took a leak.  :)  Fired up the engine.  Usually starts with a couple of cranks.  She wasn't going to give it up that easy in that weather  After about a half dozen attempts the little engine came to life albeit rocky.   I kept it running for about 10 minutes  . . . . just enough time to warm it up and give the batteries a charge. 

Bob, the marina manager just had to talk.  Here I am freezing my nuts off and Bob walks all the way down the dock to my boat and wants to talk.  Bob tells me that he is having the remainder of his upper front teeth removed on December 22nd in preparation for false teeth.  Bob lamented that it was going to take $500 to be "put under".  That's a must, he said.  Just can't handle being awake when someone is using tools in his mouth.  That's an interesting picture  . . tools in mouth.  Hmm......crow bar anyone?

Bob thought that insurance would cover half of the 500 but wasn't sure about the other half.  Making minimum wage doesn't leave a lot left for things like anesthesia.  I slapped Bob on the back, told him that everything would be covered and that I was proud of him to be taking care of business.

Me:  When it's all said and done and you're feeling up to it, I'll be buying you a steak dinner to celebrate.

Bob:   You'd do that for me?

Me:  You bet.

Bob shakes my hand and gives me a big hug.  It was truly a Bob moment.  

What Bob doesn't know - at least not yet -  that I'll be covering anything his insurance doesn't to make certain that he goes ahead with this procedure.  And why not?  It's the season to give until it hurts.  Don't you know?

Hello?  HELLO?!  Is Anybody Up There?

While sitting early Friday in the dermatologist's parking lot waiting for my 7:10 a.m. appointment, I snapped this.  A marvelous sunrise as this often catches me off guard.  So overwhelming.  So thought provoking.

We're taught or at least I was that up there . . . way up there, is heaven.  It's where all the good people go.  Naturally when I look up to marvel the heavens I think about Mom, Dad, Grandma Nellie, Wifey's mom and dad and wonder if they're up there watching down on who's left to mind the home fires.  I did that Friday.  I thought - - - Hello?  Anyone home up there?  Can you see me?  What are you thinking?

Do you do that?  Do you think anyone is home?

While I sat and enjoyed the sunrise onn Friday I remembered the words of my father-in-law when I suggested to him at age 67 to get a comprehensive health check.  After pondering my suggestion for what seemed to be forever he put on that shit ass eating grin of his and responded with, "And then what?"

Me;  And then what?  Then what would be that if there was an issue you'd be taken care of.  You've often said that you'd live to be more than 80, probably 90.  Getting a physical is one way to do that.

Father-in-law:  And then what?

Six months later he died of a heart attack on the steps of South Lake Tahoe's Little Harvey's Casino and Inn.

And then what . . . came into focus.   He had always done life on his terms.  He died living his terms and being in complete control of all that was around him.  He didn't want what came with the results of a physical exam that called for a heart by-pass or something like that and lose control.   Plain and simple.  Father-in-law was never a good patient for any physician.  Why would he want to start at age 67?  And he didn't.

Spending half a day a week ago in the hospital brought "And then what?" to mind.   The place is like a little shop of horrors.  You know what I mean.  I blew the whistle that something seemed wrong "And then what?" earned me a visit to the hospital.  The old boy knew just that - - - and before answering the question of "And then what" deeply thought about what life saving steps would mean to him.   A little shop of horrors.    Was it worth it?  If something went wrong during surgery, "And then what?"

I guess it comes down to weighing going through an ordeal in the name of living longer or just taking the "fuck it" way out and let the chips fall where they may.  Either way the question will remain the same for both scenarios:  And then what?

You often hear people mention that they want to die doing something they enjoy.  Like the mountain climber who ventures onto a shaky ledge when he should have taken the longer way around it - - - only to have it collapse pitching him into a 2,000 foot head long dive onto the valley floor.   At a ripe old age why not go out doing what you love to do instead of being tortured in the little shop of horrors.

Me?  I'll go out doing what I love.   Struck by lightning while sailing in an electrical storm.  I've been known to do things like that.   If nothing else I will be fully charged . . . ready for the big journey into the unknown.

Random Rambling

Written last week but published Monday, 12/07:

#1  While working on Sparkle Plenty yesterday:  Man approaches and obvious he wants to talk.

Him: Nice boat.

Me: Yeah, it's a real tub, isn't it.  Are you camping or do you have a boat in one of the slips?

Him: I'm living out of my van.  Just here for the night.  Headed for Eureka to find a cheap place to camp.  Been doing this for about three years now.  Heat soup on a little stove in the van.  Try to stay warm at night. Living on Social Security.  They were taking 100 bucks out of my check for health care.  I'd rather have the money.  Major health problem comes up I'll solve it with Mr. Smith and Weston.

As I walked back to the parking lot I noticed one of the boats with a lot of animal crap in it.  Bob, the marina manager tells me an otter has taken up residence and has a habit of shitting where he sleeps.   Here's hoping Mr. Otter doesn't move down the dock to Sparkle Plenty.  


#2  On Tiger Woods:  What's the big deal?  Adultery happens all the time.  That shit is in our genetic makeup.   We act like Tiger's little fling or flings is something new all judging by the press it is getting.   Boys are going to be boys and girls are going to be girls.  Doesn't make it right but nonetheless adultery will always be a fact of life.  Get over it and let's get on with something that matters like global warming, the senseless killing of our troops, and watching out for China to start the next major world conflict.


#3  This year we're forwarding a major donation to an African village in support of their school.  It feels right. 


#4  I'm loving the new contract lens prescription.  It's nice to put all that's in front of me in focus.


#5  College football:   It would have been nice for Oregon State to knock down Oregon last week.  It was just not meant to be.   Saturday Nebraska (my home boys) goes against Texas for the Big 12 Championship.  Go Huskers!


#6  Visiting with the dermatologist this morning and hoping the facial treatment is coming to an end.  Visited the hospital yesterday for more tests and everyone remembered who I was for what I think is my horribly red and crusty forehead  Hard to forget a face like that!  Hopefully the end for this process is near.  It will be nice to be able to appear in public without a hat covering that mess up.


#7  If this is the season to be jolly why am I feeling less than that?  Try listening to a song on You Tube called the Most Wonderful Time of the Year (Andy Williams) and then let me know if it moves you towards holiday spirit.

#8  Turn signals on cars.  If no one uses them why put them in new cars?

#9  The kicker within this post happened Friday:

Me: I've been experiencing tingling sensations on the left side of my face.  This landed me in the E.R. as Wifey et. al.  thought is was a stroke.  Everyone thought Bob was about ready to buy the farm. 

Dermatologist:  Oh, that's a side effect of the topical ointment you're applying to your face.

Me:  I called your office last week and asked if that was the case.  I was told that the ointment wasn't a factor.

Dermatologist:  Well, it is.  What you're feeling is the drainage down your neck and a tingling sensation all due to the wounds on your forehead.

I guess I should have smacked the dude.   He did have it coming or at least his office assistant did.

So I went through hell in the ER, tests, stuck with needles for nothing.....If this isn't a good example of "life" I don't know what is.  I am relieved but I'm also pissed that what I went through could have been prevented.

Someone once said that it's better to be pissed off than pissed on.  Well hell, I am pissed and I'm all wet with piss, too.  I got the two-for one special.   Hahaha on Bob!

The ultra sound test on the carotid arteries?    Blockage in each artery from the base of the neck to the head are rated on a scale of 1-7 - seven being major duty blocks.  Both arteries were completely clear and not even a ONE on this scale.   This was the best news of the week.

I'm out of stuff to ramble about.

Is it Wednesday?

 It has to be.  Supermarket ads in this morning's paper fairly well spell out that indeed it is Wednesday and for those working stiff it marks mid-week.  Time is flying and to where I have no clue.

Yesterday's visit to the hospital for ultra sound on each of the two carotid arteries was all good.

Me: Looking good?

Nurse:  I'm not a physician trained to read these outcomes but in my humble opinion it's all good.

One more test - - - full brain MRI.  I'll ask for a discount on this one since Bob presently operates with half a brain or better yet, a bird brain.  Surely there's consideration for one of both of those. 

If all looks well on the MRI results there's still the question of why the tingling sensation continues on the left side of my face.  What it is?  I wonder.......

Enough of this Thanksgiving dinner table talk.....doesn't that happen to you?  Aunt Mable or Uncle Popsy - -  don't relatives of age always discuss what ails them during the once a year family gathering?  Don't want to be labeled as one of those.  You've heard enough of what ails Bob to last for quite some time. 

That aside life is good.  In fact life could not be better.  I planned it this way.  I did.  What I wanted in life I started planning for at an early age - - - at about 9 or 10.  In varying stages what was planned was definitely attained.  Not rocket science.  Not magic.  Just plain old looking ahead, plain old common sense, plain old hard work, reaching for the brass ring and holding on to it.

As I look where I am in mid-week and what's planned for today there's a big smile on my face knowing how sweet life is. 

Nothing is as easy as it looks

That would be Murphy's Law #14.  It isn't.  Nothing is as easy as it looks.   Take that neighbor of yours.  You think they've got it made.  Everything on the outside is picture perfect.  Money.  Good looks. Expensive home and cars. Well paying jobs.  Model marriage.  Storybook kids.  Their shit doesn't stink.    It all looks good and easy.

Once you get to know people like that it's an easy statement to make when it's said, "It ain't no bed of roses."  Everyone is human and with that comes the human condition.  Nothing is easy.  If anything can go wrong it will.  Shit happens to all of us.  No exception to that rule.  But you knew all this, didn't you.

What you didn't know is what's in the pictures posted here.  Take the first one:  It's the lake and the ramp from the parking lot down into the marina where Sparkle Plenty is moored.  The ramp during the summer months was straight across onto the docks.  Straight.  No incline.  That's how much water has been dumped from the lake since the first of October.  There are a ton of small islands popping up around the lake that makes navigation a serious deal for Bob.  You see Sparkle Plenty has a wing, leaded keel.  Couple thousand pounds of lead.  The draft on her is about 5 feet from waterline to the bottom of the keel.  Hit a partially submerged island and you've got a problem removing the boat from whence she was wedged.  Nothing is as easy as it looks.  So I sail carefully.

There remains about 40 feet of water under the boat in its berth.  I like that.

Slightly out of focus here (posted the wrong photo leaving the in focus one on the desktop by error) is Grace decorating our tree this past Saturday.   Next time I'll post the better of the two.   You thought posting pictures on Blogger was easy but oh, no!  Nothing is as easy as it looks.  I like things just right - perfect.  This post is not exactly right and it bothers me.  Nonetheless here it is.

Yesterday's appointment with the family physician went well.

First words:

Dr:   "Judging by your forehead I see you've been seeing Doc Kraffert."

I had to laugh.  Apparently more than a few people have fallen victim to Kraffert's skin treatment approach.

We talk for a while and go over what's happened over the past week.  Wifey sits attentively listening and contributing when asked.

Dr:  "Well, if we were backpacking in the high Sierra and you began to exhibit these symptoms I'd tell you to take a couple of aspirins and cowboy up.  But since we're not and in the interest of being certain that what you're experiencing is not just a matter of banging your head while sailing (which I did royally last week) let's go through with the tests at the hospital and see what the results are.  I doubt that there will be anything other than a picture of fine health.

There is an outside chance that you are having mini-strokes or that you have shingles or possibly Bell's Palsy.  Time and the tests will tell.  You do need to get your blood pressure under control (I always have high blood pressure during any visit to any physician).  Buy a monitoring device and keep track of your b.p. daily."


So, it seems all good.  But one can never be sure.  One of Murphy's Laws states, "If anything can go wrong it can and it will." 

Ultra sound test on the carotid arteries today.   MRI sometime this week.  Hopefully shit doesn't happen.