Well, it’s Christmas Day 2019. The tree is shining brightly and adorned with ornaments collected throughout the years. Many are handmade and each one holds a special memory for me and my wife. The TV is playing old Christmas shows one after another. I'm sitting in front of it with my feet up in my chair enjoying a hot cup of coffee. My wife is in her chair occupied with her phone waiting to see pictures of the grand kids and their presents. We’ve enjoyed a very quiet and peaceful Christmas morning.
Our kids are grown with families of their own, and they all live far away. I miss the tromp of little feet coming down the hall to get us out of bed so that they could open presents. I miss the sleepy eyes that brightened up when they saw their gift. I miss the rumpled hair, the scrambling around the tree, the squeals of delight, and all the commotion. Most of all, I miss them sitting in my lap showing off their present and the thank you with a hug attached. Those Christmas days were the best. For us they are gone now. I completely understand, but, I don’t like it.
Ahhh...the smell of giblet gravy simmering on the stove makes me sure that dressing is in the stove. There’s always ham, sweet potato casserole, peas, butter beans, corn, mac&cheese, rolls to go with the chicken dressing, and sweet tea or soda pop to drink...and then Mamaw’s chocolate pie, or lemon pie, or pecan pie, or various cakes...Mmmmm...wait, none of this is happening this year. For the first time in my life, there’ll be no family gathering and meal on Christmas Day. My mother is no longer able to host a big meal even when we all bring good dishes. I miss the meal and fellowship of my kin. I just don’t like it.
With age comes the realization that our children no longer need us in the same way they once did. I know that they still love us, but our position has moved from in the midst to the outside looking in.
We are now more peripheral and that’s difficult...especially for my wife. How many times a day do I hear her say “I wish they’d call me!”. I suppose every loving parent must accept this..and yes, we have the electronic solutions—FaceTime, Skype, Messenger, messages and all that. It’s just not the same. I don’t like it.
Now, having read to this point, one might think that I don't like Christmas! Not so at all, I love celebrating the birth of my Savior and all that goes with it. I still have visions of sugarplums, I adore the Christmas music, and, I am very grateful for all the Lord has allowed me. I look forward to many more. I know they will be different than what I long for, but, time has a way of changing things quite a lot. My life is now made up of more yesterdays than tomorrows!..quite a sobering thought! Getting old is not for sissies for sure! I don't like it!
May you all have a very blessed and merry Christmas with family and friends. Now, I Do like that!
Showing posts with label entertaining reading. Show all posts
Showing posts with label entertaining reading. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 25, 2019
Wednesday, September 26, 2018
Puff's Story
About two and a half years back, a female stray cat began to hang around the house. It was obvious that it had never been petted much. After supper every night we began to talk to it and give it table scraps. After a few days, it would finally tolerate a hand rubbing its back, and I was able to ascertain its gender without doubt. We decided that we did not need a female cat having kittens all the time, and her life was spared when my grand daughter came to visit us and was able to pet the cat. Every few minutes of the day she would go outside to see about the cat. She and her grandmother settled on naming the cat KeeKee. KeeKee was a young cat, and I know she had been put out because she was female. We talked about having her fixed and were just about to do it when guess what?...you got it!...kittens on the way!
The days pass, and we know the time is near for kittens to be born. My wife has a big heart for animals, and she was hoping KeeKee would have her kittens in a safe place where they could easily be found...didn't work...one day the pregnant cat disappeared. A couple of days later my wife heard a cat crying insistently at the back door. She opened the door and there stood KeeKee as we say in the south, "justa squalin!". It was obvious that she was no longer pregnant, but, where were her kittens?
Time passed and my wife went to the door again and heard a kitten cry inside the storage room. She located the kitten and placed her in a box inside the storage room and went back inside. After a little while she opened the back door and saw KeKe running across with deck with kitten number two in her mouth. The cat marched up and laid it down on the deck then took off again...in a little while she brought another...then another.. for a total of four, two males and two females.
KeKe was a good mother, and we enjoyed watching the kittens play and grow to "adoption age." They were pretty kittens and for once social media paid off. The two males and one female were taken by friends and family. By this time my wife had decided to keep the biggest, long haired black and white kitten. She named her "Puffy", "Puff" for short. We had already neutered KeeKee, and as soon as Puff was old enough, we had her "fixed" as well.
Puff grew and became larger than her mother. When Puff came home from the vet, KeeKee would have nothing to do with her. They would hiss and slap at one another until finally all out cat fights began to take place. Puff was the larger cat and soon chased her mother away. Most of the time we have had only Puff but KeKe would return occasionally. Puff has always been an "outside" cat, but she had access to the inside of the house during the day. On Wednesday night of last week we put her out for the night. The next morning I got up early and went to play golf. Usually, Puff would be waiting at the door and come bolting in when it was opened, but, this day she was not there. I thought nothing of it for there had been other days when she would be missing then show up a little later in the morning. I loaded my cart then drove to the golf course. I had played 4 or 5 holes when my phone rang...My wife said, "I hate to bother you while you're playing golf, but, can you come home and help me find Puff? I hear her meowing in the woods in front of the house, and she won't come out. She's crying, and I can't find her!". I'm thinking I don't want to leave my golf game so I try to reassure her that Puff is all right. She doesn't buy it and insists that the cat is hurt or trapped and desperately needs help. A rain shower was approaching the golf course so, I loaded my cart and went home to see about Puff!
When I got home, I found my wife standing out in the front yard calling Puff. I took my time, unloaded my cart, and walked down the hill to see what I could do to locate the cat. We both began to call and Puff answered "meow!". It sounded like the cat was somewhere near us up a little draw in the side of the hill that once was used as a "wet weather spring". The area around the spring is covered with brambles, bushes, and trees of various ages and heights. The old spring emanated from the base of a huge sweet gum tree that has two trunks rising from the same root system. The trees are probably at least 80' high. The thickest part is along the edge where the smaller bushes and brambles were growing. "Puff is in there somewhere..She's hurt or hung, and we have to find her! Listen to her crying!" said my frightened wife.
We spent hours looking for Puff. We would call, and she would answer. I knew that cats usually escape danger by climbing, so I spent a considerable amount of time looking up those two giant sweet gums. I could not see her in the trees and it certainly sounded like she was underground close to us. We came to the conclusion that the cat had somehow crawled into a hole in the ground somewhere and was stuck. I searched and searched the banks of the spring hole and finally found a slick looking hole which led me to think, *Well, she might have went in after a squirrel or rabbit or something and got lost in a maze of tunnels where she couldn't figure out how to get back out*. It sounded like the cat was in the bank just to the right of the base of those two sweet gums. I got my shovel and began to dig into the bank where we thought her cries were coming from. I must have dug a dozen or so holes finding nothing that looked remotely like a tunnel. I decided that Puff's only chance was for her to figure out how to get out on her own..I had done all I could do.
The sad and forlorn look on a woman's face can stir a man to try stuff even when he knows it's pointless. So it was with me, and after sitting through the heat of the day, Thursday evening I got my shovel once again and dug more holes hoping to get lucky. Late that evening my neighbors came to help us look. Now the search party consisted of two grown men and two women. We call, Puff answers "meow". All four of us think she's here or there, but, no cat to be found. Finally dark arrives and things get quiet and still. Another neighbor came to help with a flashlight. He shines his light up and down the trees and finally sees Puff's glowing eyes about 75 feet up the tree. Jubilation is the best way to describe how my wife felt...the rest of us were relieved as well, although I was a tad aggravated that I had spent nearly all day digging holes and fighting through briers and brambles! Knowing the cat was in the tree and assuring my wife that she would come down, we went to bed that night thinking Puff would be at the door Friday morning.
We got up Friday morning earlier than usual expecting to see Puff dash in when we opened the door. Still no Puff! Her meows told us she was still up the tree. Intermittently all day long and into the night we called and she wouldn't budge. She would prance out to the end of the limb she was on, meow at us, look around a bit, then go back to her perch. Once during the day she actually came down one limb lower than she had been, but went back up. I'm thinking the cat can and will come down..eventually. My wife feared the worst, that the cat couldn't figure out how to back down and would stay in the tree till she passed out and fell. All this time, my wife had been on social media with her friends and neighbors and by now, the whole community was worried about Puff. Finally late Friday night we gave up and hoped for better results on Saturday.
My wife's fear was that the cat was in great need of water. She had been in the tree three nights and two days without any food or water and the days were mid 90's and very humid. Again we got up early and opened the door on Saturday morning...still no Puff. Nothing had changed, Puff was exactly where she had been the day before! We began to call as sweetly as we could and amazingly, the cat began to come down! With much coaxing from the both of us, she would back down the trunk from one limb to the next. Each time she reached a lower limb, she would walk out on it and look around for what seemed the longest time before going back to the trunk and sitting a while. After a couple of hours calling her, she made it to the lowest limb on the sweet gum tree. It was a long limb and stretched all the way out to the edge of the thicket. Puff would walk out all the way to the end of the limb then back. Even though this was the lowest limb, it was a good 20' above ground and the cat absolutely would not get back on the trunk and back down. Finally she made a move...she climbed back up to her original spot! Now my wife is in a tizzy. She was afraid the cat would die from lack of water, and she looked at me with a pitiful face. I'm at a loss as to what I could do. She wants me to spray the water hose up in the tree...I know it won't reach, not even close. I had worked a ladder up the tree as high as I could. It reached to a point under the lowest limb but not high enough to reach the cat. Even up the ladder, the hose wouldn't reach.
What could we do to get Puff some food and water? Well, country boy ingenuity set in. I got my open faced reel and tied a good size weight on the line. I made my first cast at the limb that Puff was sitting on and missed. The weight hung on a twig, and I broke the line trying to pull it out. A second try ended the same way. The third cast hit my mark. The weight pulled the line all the way to the ground underneath the tree. I tied a nylon line with a large pound test to the fishing line and pulled it over the limb and out to the point in the yard where I had made the cast. We tied a picnic basket to the twine underneath the tree then hoisted it up the tree with some food and water in it. We hoped the cat would actually get into the basket, and we could then lower her. I pulled the basket all the way up to the limb where Puff was perched. She walked out to the basket, looked into it, retreated, came back, looked again, then stuck her head down and drank some water. That silly cat then went back to her perch and stretched out for a nap! I throw up my hands and proclaim, "Well, I'm done! That cat will come down when she passes out I bet!". Again we are out of thoughts as to how to get Puff out of the sweet gum tree.
My daughters who live hours away from us were texting and calling my wife constantly wanting to know about Puff. They suggested calling the fire department, the phone company, the power company, or someone who owns a bucket truck. We live in the country...the fire department is volunteer and has no ladder truck, the utility companies just cannot do such things, and as far as I know, no one has a bucket truck. Besides, heavy equipment would ruin my yard! Finally my oldest daughter told her mother that something just had to be done, so, she searched the internet until she found a person who would try to rescue the cat. He lived about 85 miles from us, but, said he would drive as far as three hours to attempt a rescue. She called him and gave him her mother's number. Early Sunday morning, he called and said he could be here by 10:30. The whole community and all of the Facebook connections are relieved. Finally, Puff is going to be rescued!...we hope!
I teach Sunday School so I went to Sunday school while my wife waited for the rescuer. My friends and neighbors in my class were well aware of the "Puff" crisis, and they wholeheartedly supported my decision to shorten the lesson so that I could be home in time to meet the cat rescuer. About 10:45 he called and said that he had inadvertently placed the wrong address in his GPS but would arrive in about 15 minutes. Mr. Bob arrived around 11 and after papers were signed protecting us if he got hurt as well as protection for him in case the cat got hurt, we walked down to the sweet gum tree. He told me that he had made several hundred cat rescues, two or three dog rescues, and one drone rescue. His last rescue was about the same height as this one, so, the height didn't bother him.
After surveying the situation, Mr Bob decided that the line I had already worked over the limb was a bit too far out for the limb to safely hold his weight, so, another had to be secured closer to the trunk. He got his trusty Big Shot out of the truck. It was a giant sling shot. He tied a bean bag to a sturdy line and shot it up into the tree over the limb just above Puff's perch. It took three tries, but on the third, the bag hit its mark and pulled the line over the limb. Now Mr. Bob tied a heavy rope to the line and pulled it over the limb, then secured it to a nearby tree. The line had been shot from the yard over the undergrowth, so the rope had to be worked through the brush so that it hung vertically. We pulled as much as we could, then Mr. Bob said his body weight would do the rest. He donned his climbing gear and hooked to the rope. As expected, his body weight pulled the rope through the brush until it was a straight up climb. Now he started to climb the rope.
When he got to the lowest limb he paused to rest. All the while we are talking and pleading with Puff, still trying to coax her down a bit. Again he starts up and climbs to a point just under Puff's perch. She just sat there looking at him. He spent several minutes talking to her and even offered her a cat treat (this guy had everything imaginable). Finally he moved within reach and just as Puff had decided to move up higher, he grabbed her and put her in a cloth sack. After repelling down the rope, he handed the sack to me and told me to take her inside the house to let her out. Inside the house, I opened the bag and let her out. She seemed distressed and disoriented for a bit, but, soon settled down and took a little food and water. Puff was out of the tree finally and safe inside the house.
Word spread quickly over our little community and many people showed their relief by text message, phone calls, and Facebook posts. Many have said that this was the most exciting thing to happen in our community in years! Puff was a celebrity! Mr. Bob would take no pay for his magnificent work. He simply asked for a small donation to his humane society chapter. After collecting a nice contribution, Mr. Bob headed home. and we go inside with Puff...just look at where she decided to settle down!
After all the trouble we went through, now she gets in the basket! *rollin eyes*
The days pass, and we know the time is near for kittens to be born. My wife has a big heart for animals, and she was hoping KeeKee would have her kittens in a safe place where they could easily be found...didn't work...one day the pregnant cat disappeared. A couple of days later my wife heard a cat crying insistently at the back door. She opened the door and there stood KeeKee as we say in the south, "justa squalin!". It was obvious that she was no longer pregnant, but, where were her kittens?
Time passed and my wife went to the door again and heard a kitten cry inside the storage room. She located the kitten and placed her in a box inside the storage room and went back inside. After a little while she opened the back door and saw KeKe running across with deck with kitten number two in her mouth. The cat marched up and laid it down on the deck then took off again...in a little while she brought another...then another.. for a total of four, two males and two females.
KeKe was a good mother, and we enjoyed watching the kittens play and grow to "adoption age." They were pretty kittens and for once social media paid off. The two males and one female were taken by friends and family. By this time my wife had decided to keep the biggest, long haired black and white kitten. She named her "Puffy", "Puff" for short. We had already neutered KeeKee, and as soon as Puff was old enough, we had her "fixed" as well.
When I got home, I found my wife standing out in the front yard calling Puff. I took my time, unloaded my cart, and walked down the hill to see what I could do to locate the cat. We both began to call and Puff answered "meow!". It sounded like the cat was somewhere near us up a little draw in the side of the hill that once was used as a "wet weather spring". The area around the spring is covered with brambles, bushes, and trees of various ages and heights. The old spring emanated from the base of a huge sweet gum tree that has two trunks rising from the same root system. The trees are probably at least 80' high. The thickest part is along the edge where the smaller bushes and brambles were growing. "Puff is in there somewhere..She's hurt or hung, and we have to find her! Listen to her crying!" said my frightened wife.
We spent hours looking for Puff. We would call, and she would answer. I knew that cats usually escape danger by climbing, so I spent a considerable amount of time looking up those two giant sweet gums. I could not see her in the trees and it certainly sounded like she was underground close to us. We came to the conclusion that the cat had somehow crawled into a hole in the ground somewhere and was stuck. I searched and searched the banks of the spring hole and finally found a slick looking hole which led me to think, *Well, she might have went in after a squirrel or rabbit or something and got lost in a maze of tunnels where she couldn't figure out how to get back out*. It sounded like the cat was in the bank just to the right of the base of those two sweet gums. I got my shovel and began to dig into the bank where we thought her cries were coming from. I must have dug a dozen or so holes finding nothing that looked remotely like a tunnel. I decided that Puff's only chance was for her to figure out how to get out on her own..I had done all I could do.
The sad and forlorn look on a woman's face can stir a man to try stuff even when he knows it's pointless. So it was with me, and after sitting through the heat of the day, Thursday evening I got my shovel once again and dug more holes hoping to get lucky. Late that evening my neighbors came to help us look. Now the search party consisted of two grown men and two women. We call, Puff answers "meow". All four of us think she's here or there, but, no cat to be found. Finally dark arrives and things get quiet and still. Another neighbor came to help with a flashlight. He shines his light up and down the trees and finally sees Puff's glowing eyes about 75 feet up the tree. Jubilation is the best way to describe how my wife felt...the rest of us were relieved as well, although I was a tad aggravated that I had spent nearly all day digging holes and fighting through briers and brambles! Knowing the cat was in the tree and assuring my wife that she would come down, we went to bed that night thinking Puff would be at the door Friday morning.
We got up Friday morning earlier than usual expecting to see Puff dash in when we opened the door. Still no Puff! Her meows told us she was still up the tree. Intermittently all day long and into the night we called and she wouldn't budge. She would prance out to the end of the limb she was on, meow at us, look around a bit, then go back to her perch. Once during the day she actually came down one limb lower than she had been, but went back up. I'm thinking the cat can and will come down..eventually. My wife feared the worst, that the cat couldn't figure out how to back down and would stay in the tree till she passed out and fell. All this time, my wife had been on social media with her friends and neighbors and by now, the whole community was worried about Puff. Finally late Friday night we gave up and hoped for better results on Saturday.
My wife's fear was that the cat was in great need of water. She had been in the tree three nights and two days without any food or water and the days were mid 90's and very humid. Again we got up early and opened the door on Saturday morning...still no Puff. Nothing had changed, Puff was exactly where she had been the day before! We began to call as sweetly as we could and amazingly, the cat began to come down! With much coaxing from the both of us, she would back down the trunk from one limb to the next. Each time she reached a lower limb, she would walk out on it and look around for what seemed the longest time before going back to the trunk and sitting a while. After a couple of hours calling her, she made it to the lowest limb on the sweet gum tree. It was a long limb and stretched all the way out to the edge of the thicket. Puff would walk out all the way to the end of the limb then back. Even though this was the lowest limb, it was a good 20' above ground and the cat absolutely would not get back on the trunk and back down. Finally she made a move...she climbed back up to her original spot! Now my wife is in a tizzy. She was afraid the cat would die from lack of water, and she looked at me with a pitiful face. I'm at a loss as to what I could do. She wants me to spray the water hose up in the tree...I know it won't reach, not even close. I had worked a ladder up the tree as high as I could. It reached to a point under the lowest limb but not high enough to reach the cat. Even up the ladder, the hose wouldn't reach.
What could we do to get Puff some food and water? Well, country boy ingenuity set in. I got my open faced reel and tied a good size weight on the line. I made my first cast at the limb that Puff was sitting on and missed. The weight hung on a twig, and I broke the line trying to pull it out. A second try ended the same way. The third cast hit my mark. The weight pulled the line all the way to the ground underneath the tree. I tied a nylon line with a large pound test to the fishing line and pulled it over the limb and out to the point in the yard where I had made the cast. We tied a picnic basket to the twine underneath the tree then hoisted it up the tree with some food and water in it. We hoped the cat would actually get into the basket, and we could then lower her. I pulled the basket all the way up to the limb where Puff was perched. She walked out to the basket, looked into it, retreated, came back, looked again, then stuck her head down and drank some water. That silly cat then went back to her perch and stretched out for a nap! I throw up my hands and proclaim, "Well, I'm done! That cat will come down when she passes out I bet!". Again we are out of thoughts as to how to get Puff out of the sweet gum tree.
My daughters who live hours away from us were texting and calling my wife constantly wanting to know about Puff. They suggested calling the fire department, the phone company, the power company, or someone who owns a bucket truck. We live in the country...the fire department is volunteer and has no ladder truck, the utility companies just cannot do such things, and as far as I know, no one has a bucket truck. Besides, heavy equipment would ruin my yard! Finally my oldest daughter told her mother that something just had to be done, so, she searched the internet until she found a person who would try to rescue the cat. He lived about 85 miles from us, but, said he would drive as far as three hours to attempt a rescue. She called him and gave him her mother's number. Early Sunday morning, he called and said he could be here by 10:30. The whole community and all of the Facebook connections are relieved. Finally, Puff is going to be rescued!...we hope!
I teach Sunday School so I went to Sunday school while my wife waited for the rescuer. My friends and neighbors in my class were well aware of the "Puff" crisis, and they wholeheartedly supported my decision to shorten the lesson so that I could be home in time to meet the cat rescuer. About 10:45 he called and said that he had inadvertently placed the wrong address in his GPS but would arrive in about 15 minutes. Mr. Bob arrived around 11 and after papers were signed protecting us if he got hurt as well as protection for him in case the cat got hurt, we walked down to the sweet gum tree. He told me that he had made several hundred cat rescues, two or three dog rescues, and one drone rescue. His last rescue was about the same height as this one, so, the height didn't bother him.
After surveying the situation, Mr Bob decided that the line I had already worked over the limb was a bit too far out for the limb to safely hold his weight, so, another had to be secured closer to the trunk. He got his trusty Big Shot out of the truck. It was a giant sling shot. He tied a bean bag to a sturdy line and shot it up into the tree over the limb just above Puff's perch. It took three tries, but on the third, the bag hit its mark and pulled the line over the limb. Now Mr. Bob tied a heavy rope to the line and pulled it over the limb, then secured it to a nearby tree. The line had been shot from the yard over the undergrowth, so the rope had to be worked through the brush so that it hung vertically. We pulled as much as we could, then Mr. Bob said his body weight would do the rest. He donned his climbing gear and hooked to the rope. As expected, his body weight pulled the rope through the brush until it was a straight up climb. Now he started to climb the rope.
When he got to the lowest limb he paused to rest. All the while we are talking and pleading with Puff, still trying to coax her down a bit. Again he starts up and climbs to a point just under Puff's perch. She just sat there looking at him. He spent several minutes talking to her and even offered her a cat treat (this guy had everything imaginable). Finally he moved within reach and just as Puff had decided to move up higher, he grabbed her and put her in a cloth sack. After repelling down the rope, he handed the sack to me and told me to take her inside the house to let her out. Inside the house, I opened the bag and let her out. She seemed distressed and disoriented for a bit, but, soon settled down and took a little food and water. Puff was out of the tree finally and safe inside the house.
Word spread quickly over our little community and many people showed their relief by text message, phone calls, and Facebook posts. Many have said that this was the most exciting thing to happen in our community in years! Puff was a celebrity! Mr. Bob would take no pay for his magnificent work. He simply asked for a small donation to his humane society chapter. After collecting a nice contribution, Mr. Bob headed home. and we go inside with Puff...just look at where she decided to settle down!
After all the trouble we went through, now she gets in the basket! *rollin eyes*
Thursday, January 4, 2018
Scary Moments
I realize that with age health issues may arise. I just expected that I would be the first to go down with something...not my wife! We both had colonoscopies at the recommended ages. Mine was clear but she had polyps. We were informed by the doctor that there are two types of polyps. The normal polyp grows outward from the colon wall and is generally benign. He removed them easily with the endoscope. He called these "tree" polyps. The other polyp grows laterally within the wall of the colon and because of this, he called it a "flat" polyp. These are more difficult to detect and remove than the others. My precious wife had one flat polyp and a couple of tree polyps. The first time, the flat polyp was small enough that he was able to remove it somehow with the scope. I was told to have another scope when my insurance allowed, but, because of the flat polyp, my wife needed to be checked in a couple of years.
Time passes quickly and my wife goes in for her second colonoscopy. This time the doctor finds more tree polyps and wants to see her again in a year. I remember my wife saying, "I must be growing a forest in my colon!". We are concerned , but, the doctor assures us that all is well and she just needs to be checked within the next year. Ok...it is what it is.
The third colonoscopy revealed that she had two almost nothing tree polyps and another flat one. While waking up from the anesthesia, she overhears one of the nurses say "She'll need to see a surgeon." This scares my wife to death even though she's still not completely coherent from the anesthesia. While she's waking up, the doctor comes and informs me that she has one "unusually large" flat polyp that has grown so deep in the wall of her colon that he could not remove it with his instrument safely, so he marked it with blue dye and a gold marker. He assured me that it didn't look cancerous but he biopsied it just in case. At this point we get a medical term for her condition..."tubular adenoma". "I want to see her in two weeks." he said. Two weeks pass..two weeks!...and her doctor knew the day of her colonoscopy what we would be up against. Why he did not inform us that day is beyond me...makes a body wonder if he simply didn't think it urgent enough or knowing we were at his mercy, maybe he wanted a little more money before he turned us over to the next guy! Surely it was the former...still? *scratchin my head*.
Again at this visit, the news almost blows my wife away. The doctor tells her that he must refer her to a surgeon for a colon resection operation. This is startling news as she has no symptoms whatsoever! He explains to her that the polyp has grown deep into her colon wall and removing it by surgery is the only way. He then told her that the biopsy showed the polyp benign at the moment but it was precancerous and had to be dealt with. Six inches to a foot of colon would have to be removed. I suppose he saw the shocked, frightened and then despondent look on her face, then he told her, "Don't worry...Don't worry! You have plenty of colon. You won't even miss it!". If he thought this would calm her down he was badly mistaken! Now I'm scared too!
Another couple of weeks before we see the surgeon gives us time to research the operation. We find that most are done with a scope and hospital stay is from 3 to 7 days. This is a MAJOR surgery. A section of the colon is removed with instruments that reach through small incisions rather than a single large incision. Because of this, recuperation time is much shorter...supposedly. We proceed to the surgeon's office for the initial visit and he begins to explain the operation. He says he plans to start with the scope, but, it might be necessary to open her up. It would depend on what he found when he got in. An x-ray had been sent to his office showing the location of the polyp in her transverse colon, but he had not looked at it yet, so, his explanation as to what he would do was not explicit at all. He told us that if the adenoma was left of her center line, he would take a 6 to 8 inch section out. If the adenoma was right of her center line, he would take her entire colon from the spot down to her appendix, then stretch the two sections together attaching the small duct at the head of the small intestine to the large intestine. The only other option was to plug out the spot, but, this would risk having to go back in with a much more invasive procedure should the polyp show cancer. Well?...what can you do? We set the date for her surgery on December 28 with the assurance of the surgeon that he would do whatever was necessary to make sure all areas that could be cancerous are removed. He tells us not to worry, he has done thousands of these operations, he is confident that he can fix her completely with no leaks. His confidence that all will go well gives us some peace of mind. He tells us that 3 to 4 days in the hospital after surgery is the normal because it takes a while for the colon to "wake up" after such trauma. Still, you can't help but worry.
During the time till surgery date, my gritty wife develops the "Well...the thing has to come out, so, let's get it over with!" attitude and I assure you that many prayers were offered by each of us and our immediate family. As the word got out to her friends and the community, she began to hear from some of them that they had undergone the same surgery. This eased her mind greatly that everything would be alright...mine too. Our church family gave us great support and encouragement and their prayers were truly felt. Now it's just count the days till the 28th. One bottle of magnesium citrate and a light dose of laxative is all the prep required on the 27th and she's good to go.
The day of the surgery arrived and we were to be at the hospital at 6AM. We park in the parking garage and walk down to admissions pulling and carrying luggage enough for a 3 or 4 day stay. We spend the next 20 minutes or so standing in line waiting to be admitted. A wristband is applied and we're off to the same day surgery center of the hospital. The nurse at the desk takes her papers and whisks us off to a room where we are told to wait till the surgeon and operating room is ready. She gets her hospital robe on and climbs up in the bed. Shortly a nurse comes in and after several questions about previous surgeries and medicine allergies etc, my wife is given a saline drip for hydration purposes. We are told that it shouldn't be long, so, the wait begins. Next comes the anesthesiologist who explains how she would be put under. He was impressive with his plan and we were satisfied that he knew his business. About 45 minutes later and after we had dragged her drip line and bag to the bathroom about a dozen times, *whew*, she is given two valium tablets. I know now that it won't be too long before they take her back. Within ten minutes she is really...I mean REALLY relaxed. She thinks that she can't open her eyes, so she jabbers with her eyes closed. She tells everyone that speaks that she loves them..even total strangers! My two daughters who were there with us told her afterward, "Mama, We've seen you on drugs now!".
Soon she is wheeled back to the operating room and I am told to wait by the phone to be updated as needed. About 30 minutes pass and at 10:35AM, the nurse calls and tells me they are about to start. She also tells me to expect an hour to hour and a half operation. I spend the next 20 minutes or so notifying friends and family via text message that the operation has begun. An hour passes and no word yet. I'm a little worried, but there's still a half hour to play with. Another 30 minutes pass and still no word...now I'm getting scared. "Something must be wrong!...What if they can't stop a leak?...What if he has to take the entire colon and build a colostomy? (He had assured us that no ostomy would be needed unless something went wrong)...What if she died!" are things that run through a semi-panicked mind. Finally within the next few minutes I get the call that they are finishing up and it went well. I am relieved of course but still wonder why it took so long. After several minutes the doctor comes in and tells me that he removed about 6 inches of the transverse colon. He said that it took longer because in the time since the last colonoscopy, the blue dye and marker had been lost, so he had to use the x-ray and pinpoint the lesion by measurement. Once the position was located, he found it difficult to reach due to scar tissue from previous hysterectomy and tubal ligation surgeries. He said he had to move a "lot of stuff around" to get to it and finally could not get the section out with his instruments. He explained that he had to expand the primary incision just slightly so that he could get his fingers inside her enough that he could get the section out. Once that was done, he said the rest was a "piece of cake" and that the polyp did not look cancerous to him or his associates at all. I asked if he had removed lymph nodes also. He said there might be two or three along the section removed, but he deemed it unnecessary to remove any others as he was confident that there was no cancer. The section would be sent to pathology for testing to make sure and we should hear from them in a few days. Great news!
A few minutes later a nurse tells me to gather my bags and report to room 336 in the hospital and wait about an hour for her to come out of recovery. I tell all our folks who are waiting in the lobby and proceed to the room. Finally after two solid hours they bring her up to the room. She is still under the effects of the anesthesia and pain medicines, so, she still loves everybody! I'm so glad the operation is over that I just about can't stand it! She shows us the incisions and I count 4 staples just under her breast bone, 16 holding together the larger incision from just above her navel to a couple inches below and small taped puncture wounds on either side of the center line of her abdomen. She says nothing hurts and she thinks this won't be as bad as the hysterectomy. The first afternoon and night were good. She slept from the medicines she had been given. I tried to sleep on a cot provided but wound up just sitting in a very uncomfortable chair thinking what in the world would I do if I had lost her.
The next day she began to hurt...not so much a continuous pain, but sharp pain when she tried to move. Moving from one side to the other hurt her, the process of sitting up on the side of the bed hurt her etc. A morphine pain pump had been supplied for her to use as needed but she determined that she would not because she was afraid it would make her gag and heave. That would really hurt. She bore the pain till the end of that day. Finally her nurse asked her about pain and she explained that she feared the morphine. The nurse said "We can give you Norco ( hydrocodein) tablets for the pain. This was great because she had used them before through the years with no side effects. Also her mouth was dry as a desert because of the nausea patch that had been applied on surgery day. The nurse removed it and promised to bring some kind of lemon flavored swab to help the dryness. Things like this are available to surgery patients, but, the average person(like us) wouldn't know to ask! Not long after the pain pills, she sleeps all night. I am exhausted by now and the body reaches a point where it has to rest, so, even on the most uncomfortable cot in the world, I slept most all night too. During the rest of our stay, short naps were all we could do.
Her doctor checked on her promptly at 8AM each day and told us everything looked good. All she needed to do to go home was have a bowel movement. Finally on the 4th day, New Years eve, we are allowed to come home. Yesterday we heard that the pathology was clear and no cancer was present. The cells tested precancerous as they had before. We still have a follow up visit to attend, but she's now on the mend. Perhaps this story will help prepare someone who is about to undergo a colon resection surgery. There will be some scary moments, but, the choice of not seeing a gastro specialist for a colonoscopy and winding up with colon cancer is much scarier! Get your colon checked..it saved my wife from the horrible experience of cancer treatment. It can save your life!
Praise the Lord who watches over us all!
Time passes quickly and my wife goes in for her second colonoscopy. This time the doctor finds more tree polyps and wants to see her again in a year. I remember my wife saying, "I must be growing a forest in my colon!". We are concerned , but, the doctor assures us that all is well and she just needs to be checked within the next year. Ok...it is what it is.
The third colonoscopy revealed that she had two almost nothing tree polyps and another flat one. While waking up from the anesthesia, she overhears one of the nurses say "She'll need to see a surgeon." This scares my wife to death even though she's still not completely coherent from the anesthesia. While she's waking up, the doctor comes and informs me that she has one "unusually large" flat polyp that has grown so deep in the wall of her colon that he could not remove it with his instrument safely, so he marked it with blue dye and a gold marker. He assured me that it didn't look cancerous but he biopsied it just in case. At this point we get a medical term for her condition..."tubular adenoma". "I want to see her in two weeks." he said. Two weeks pass..two weeks!...and her doctor knew the day of her colonoscopy what we would be up against. Why he did not inform us that day is beyond me...makes a body wonder if he simply didn't think it urgent enough or knowing we were at his mercy, maybe he wanted a little more money before he turned us over to the next guy! Surely it was the former...still? *scratchin my head*.
Again at this visit, the news almost blows my wife away. The doctor tells her that he must refer her to a surgeon for a colon resection operation. This is startling news as she has no symptoms whatsoever! He explains to her that the polyp has grown deep into her colon wall and removing it by surgery is the only way. He then told her that the biopsy showed the polyp benign at the moment but it was precancerous and had to be dealt with. Six inches to a foot of colon would have to be removed. I suppose he saw the shocked, frightened and then despondent look on her face, then he told her, "Don't worry...Don't worry! You have plenty of colon. You won't even miss it!". If he thought this would calm her down he was badly mistaken! Now I'm scared too!
Another couple of weeks before we see the surgeon gives us time to research the operation. We find that most are done with a scope and hospital stay is from 3 to 7 days. This is a MAJOR surgery. A section of the colon is removed with instruments that reach through small incisions rather than a single large incision. Because of this, recuperation time is much shorter...supposedly. We proceed to the surgeon's office for the initial visit and he begins to explain the operation. He says he plans to start with the scope, but, it might be necessary to open her up. It would depend on what he found when he got in. An x-ray had been sent to his office showing the location of the polyp in her transverse colon, but he had not looked at it yet, so, his explanation as to what he would do was not explicit at all. He told us that if the adenoma was left of her center line, he would take a 6 to 8 inch section out. If the adenoma was right of her center line, he would take her entire colon from the spot down to her appendix, then stretch the two sections together attaching the small duct at the head of the small intestine to the large intestine. The only other option was to plug out the spot, but, this would risk having to go back in with a much more invasive procedure should the polyp show cancer. Well?...what can you do? We set the date for her surgery on December 28 with the assurance of the surgeon that he would do whatever was necessary to make sure all areas that could be cancerous are removed. He tells us not to worry, he has done thousands of these operations, he is confident that he can fix her completely with no leaks. His confidence that all will go well gives us some peace of mind. He tells us that 3 to 4 days in the hospital after surgery is the normal because it takes a while for the colon to "wake up" after such trauma. Still, you can't help but worry.
During the time till surgery date, my gritty wife develops the "Well...the thing has to come out, so, let's get it over with!" attitude and I assure you that many prayers were offered by each of us and our immediate family. As the word got out to her friends and the community, she began to hear from some of them that they had undergone the same surgery. This eased her mind greatly that everything would be alright...mine too. Our church family gave us great support and encouragement and their prayers were truly felt. Now it's just count the days till the 28th. One bottle of magnesium citrate and a light dose of laxative is all the prep required on the 27th and she's good to go.
The day of the surgery arrived and we were to be at the hospital at 6AM. We park in the parking garage and walk down to admissions pulling and carrying luggage enough for a 3 or 4 day stay. We spend the next 20 minutes or so standing in line waiting to be admitted. A wristband is applied and we're off to the same day surgery center of the hospital. The nurse at the desk takes her papers and whisks us off to a room where we are told to wait till the surgeon and operating room is ready. She gets her hospital robe on and climbs up in the bed. Shortly a nurse comes in and after several questions about previous surgeries and medicine allergies etc, my wife is given a saline drip for hydration purposes. We are told that it shouldn't be long, so, the wait begins. Next comes the anesthesiologist who explains how she would be put under. He was impressive with his plan and we were satisfied that he knew his business. About 45 minutes later and after we had dragged her drip line and bag to the bathroom about a dozen times, *whew*, she is given two valium tablets. I know now that it won't be too long before they take her back. Within ten minutes she is really...I mean REALLY relaxed. She thinks that she can't open her eyes, so she jabbers with her eyes closed. She tells everyone that speaks that she loves them..even total strangers! My two daughters who were there with us told her afterward, "Mama, We've seen you on drugs now!".
Soon she is wheeled back to the operating room and I am told to wait by the phone to be updated as needed. About 30 minutes pass and at 10:35AM, the nurse calls and tells me they are about to start. She also tells me to expect an hour to hour and a half operation. I spend the next 20 minutes or so notifying friends and family via text message that the operation has begun. An hour passes and no word yet. I'm a little worried, but there's still a half hour to play with. Another 30 minutes pass and still no word...now I'm getting scared. "Something must be wrong!...What if they can't stop a leak?...What if he has to take the entire colon and build a colostomy? (He had assured us that no ostomy would be needed unless something went wrong)...What if she died!" are things that run through a semi-panicked mind. Finally within the next few minutes I get the call that they are finishing up and it went well. I am relieved of course but still wonder why it took so long. After several minutes the doctor comes in and tells me that he removed about 6 inches of the transverse colon. He said that it took longer because in the time since the last colonoscopy, the blue dye and marker had been lost, so he had to use the x-ray and pinpoint the lesion by measurement. Once the position was located, he found it difficult to reach due to scar tissue from previous hysterectomy and tubal ligation surgeries. He said he had to move a "lot of stuff around" to get to it and finally could not get the section out with his instruments. He explained that he had to expand the primary incision just slightly so that he could get his fingers inside her enough that he could get the section out. Once that was done, he said the rest was a "piece of cake" and that the polyp did not look cancerous to him or his associates at all. I asked if he had removed lymph nodes also. He said there might be two or three along the section removed, but he deemed it unnecessary to remove any others as he was confident that there was no cancer. The section would be sent to pathology for testing to make sure and we should hear from them in a few days. Great news!
A few minutes later a nurse tells me to gather my bags and report to room 336 in the hospital and wait about an hour for her to come out of recovery. I tell all our folks who are waiting in the lobby and proceed to the room. Finally after two solid hours they bring her up to the room. She is still under the effects of the anesthesia and pain medicines, so, she still loves everybody! I'm so glad the operation is over that I just about can't stand it! She shows us the incisions and I count 4 staples just under her breast bone, 16 holding together the larger incision from just above her navel to a couple inches below and small taped puncture wounds on either side of the center line of her abdomen. She says nothing hurts and she thinks this won't be as bad as the hysterectomy. The first afternoon and night were good. She slept from the medicines she had been given. I tried to sleep on a cot provided but wound up just sitting in a very uncomfortable chair thinking what in the world would I do if I had lost her.
The next day she began to hurt...not so much a continuous pain, but sharp pain when she tried to move. Moving from one side to the other hurt her, the process of sitting up on the side of the bed hurt her etc. A morphine pain pump had been supplied for her to use as needed but she determined that she would not because she was afraid it would make her gag and heave. That would really hurt. She bore the pain till the end of that day. Finally her nurse asked her about pain and she explained that she feared the morphine. The nurse said "We can give you Norco ( hydrocodein) tablets for the pain. This was great because she had used them before through the years with no side effects. Also her mouth was dry as a desert because of the nausea patch that had been applied on surgery day. The nurse removed it and promised to bring some kind of lemon flavored swab to help the dryness. Things like this are available to surgery patients, but, the average person(like us) wouldn't know to ask! Not long after the pain pills, she sleeps all night. I am exhausted by now and the body reaches a point where it has to rest, so, even on the most uncomfortable cot in the world, I slept most all night too. During the rest of our stay, short naps were all we could do.
Her doctor checked on her promptly at 8AM each day and told us everything looked good. All she needed to do to go home was have a bowel movement. Finally on the 4th day, New Years eve, we are allowed to come home. Yesterday we heard that the pathology was clear and no cancer was present. The cells tested precancerous as they had before. We still have a follow up visit to attend, but she's now on the mend. Perhaps this story will help prepare someone who is about to undergo a colon resection surgery. There will be some scary moments, but, the choice of not seeing a gastro specialist for a colonoscopy and winding up with colon cancer is much scarier! Get your colon checked..it saved my wife from the horrible experience of cancer treatment. It can save your life!
Praise the Lord who watches over us all!
Friday, December 8, 2017
Goodness gracious! It might snow!!
People of the Deep South take on extreme heat and humidity with an air of indifference. After all, it is supposed to be hot and humid here. I suppose it is the stuff of legend in that the southern climate is given by many as the reason southerners talk and move slowly. Maybe, but, I tend to think it's just our nature to roll with the punch.
I mean, we get tornado warning and we'll go outside to see if we can see the tornado! We get a hurricane warning down on the coast and most just move out of its way. No big deal for them other than possible destruction of property and inconvenience. Those who choose to stay in the path know the risk to life and limb, but, it is their choice.
One would think that living through these events in the way that we do would prepare us for anything Mother Nature might do to us.....not so! Today we received word from the national weather service....." The national weather service has issued a winter storm watch/warning for the following counties......". Whoa! Goodness gracious! It might snow tonight! The situation is dire!
Here's what it sounds like in homes across the Deep South. "I hope we don't lose power! We got plenty bread and milk? Go out yonder and check how much propane we got! Reckon they'll have school tomorrow? We might oughta leave the heater on low tonight, don't want no pipes to freeze! Catch up some water case we get out! The cars and trucks got plenty gas? Go get that old raggedy blanket out of the closet and put it in the car port so them dogs/cats can lay on it and stay warm. Remember that time it stayed on the ground for nearly two weeks? 'At was bout 1963 wad'nt it? Hey! You cranked that generator lately? What we gonna eat?...I reckon we can make a big ol pot of soup and eat that. I don't mind a good snow but I don't want no freezin rain! Maybe it'll be enough to build a snowman and make some snow ice cream! I hope it snows a foot!"
Yep! You want to get a southerner giddy with excitement, just mention the "s" word. The tv weather men and women always wait till the last minute to predict snow...they know the phone, email, and texting will explode...especially if the event doesn't happen as predicted which happens more than not!
And then the next morning....."Wow! Look at all the snow! It's still fallin! Boy it's really comin down! It's sho is pretty ain't it? Wonder how long it'll be here? Put ye on a bunch of clothes and a big ol coat fore ye go out....you put them freezer bags over ye socks fore ye put ye shoes on? Ye don't need to git ye feet wet..ye'll get sick shore as the world! Ah-ite! Get out there and build ye a snowman, just don't stay out too long...don't need no frost bit toes or nothin! Man! It's comin a blizzard out there! Better find them candles...might lose power!"
Most consider a little snow and temperatures around freezing no big deal, but, for the people around here who seldom see even a flurry, a snow covered ground is a spectacular event!
God bless us all during this Christmas season and thanks to Him for the beautiful snow! Goodness gracious! It's snowin in Dixie!
I mean, we get tornado warning and we'll go outside to see if we can see the tornado! We get a hurricane warning down on the coast and most just move out of its way. No big deal for them other than possible destruction of property and inconvenience. Those who choose to stay in the path know the risk to life and limb, but, it is their choice.
One would think that living through these events in the way that we do would prepare us for anything Mother Nature might do to us.....not so! Today we received word from the national weather service....." The national weather service has issued a winter storm watch/warning for the following counties......". Whoa! Goodness gracious! It might snow tonight! The situation is dire!
Here's what it sounds like in homes across the Deep South. "I hope we don't lose power! We got plenty bread and milk? Go out yonder and check how much propane we got! Reckon they'll have school tomorrow? We might oughta leave the heater on low tonight, don't want no pipes to freeze! Catch up some water case we get out! The cars and trucks got plenty gas? Go get that old raggedy blanket out of the closet and put it in the car port so them dogs/cats can lay on it and stay warm. Remember that time it stayed on the ground for nearly two weeks? 'At was bout 1963 wad'nt it? Hey! You cranked that generator lately? What we gonna eat?...I reckon we can make a big ol pot of soup and eat that. I don't mind a good snow but I don't want no freezin rain! Maybe it'll be enough to build a snowman and make some snow ice cream! I hope it snows a foot!"
Yep! You want to get a southerner giddy with excitement, just mention the "s" word. The tv weather men and women always wait till the last minute to predict snow...they know the phone, email, and texting will explode...especially if the event doesn't happen as predicted which happens more than not!
And then the next morning....."Wow! Look at all the snow! It's still fallin! Boy it's really comin down! It's sho is pretty ain't it? Wonder how long it'll be here? Put ye on a bunch of clothes and a big ol coat fore ye go out....you put them freezer bags over ye socks fore ye put ye shoes on? Ye don't need to git ye feet wet..ye'll get sick shore as the world! Ah-ite! Get out there and build ye a snowman, just don't stay out too long...don't need no frost bit toes or nothin! Man! It's comin a blizzard out there! Better find them candles...might lose power!"
Most consider a little snow and temperatures around freezing no big deal, but, for the people around here who seldom see even a flurry, a snow covered ground is a spectacular event!
God bless us all during this Christmas season and thanks to Him for the beautiful snow! Goodness gracious! It's snowin in Dixie!
Friday, August 4, 2017
The "eyes" have it!
My wife and I have reached the age where much of our casual conversations with friends concerns the latest procedure or surgery we've been through! "Did they put you to sleep?", "Did it leave a scar?", "When are you getting the other one done?", or " Is it hurting you?" are some of the conversation starters for us these days.
Our latest adventure was cataract surgery. My sweet wife (bless her heart) had been told she had cataracts a couple years ago. At that time the optometrist assured her that they were small and need not be addressed. On her last visit, he said "Gracious! Those things have really grown! You'll need to have them seen about!". With her vision seeming fairly normal to her, and knowing that Medicare will cover cataract surgery, she asked if she could wait until she reached Medicare age. He told her "Sure...you can wait, but you're already illegal to drive in one eye, the other is not far behind and they're only gonna get worse!" This convinced her, so, here we go...he set her up to see a specialist in cataract removal surgery.
The first visit to Dr. M's office involved meeting and greeting and a quick "see for my self" type eye exam. He said "Yep! You have some fine cataracts there!", then he moves over to his computer. My wife has a gift. She can talk to people and make them think that they are the best thing since sliced bread! She noticed how fast Dr. M was typing and, being a former business teacher, she said "My! You are fast! We need to give you a timed writing!" He grinned and said "My parents made me take typing in high school...hated it then, but now, I'm glad they did!". Well, this opened the door to a variety of conversation topics and I guarantee that by the end of the visit, she had him feeling really good about himself!
The next visit was scheduled about a week later. We arrived at his office and the waiting room was packed. Worried that we might be in for a long wait, my wife asked the receptionist "What's going on today?...almost standing room only!" We were told that a V.A. doc visited Dr. M's clinic once a month and this was the day. Relieved that most of the people there were to see him, not Dr. M, we sat down and waited. This time it was a quick "Hello, how ye doin?" from the doc, then a technician took her and measured the lens in each eye. Not too many years back, the only option was to remove the cataracts restoring the vision a person had before. Now they remove both cataracts and natural lenses and insert an artificial lens. This amazing technology not only eliminates the cataracts, it also improves vision to the point that glasses are no longer needed except maybe to read. With measurements complete, we were given a surgery date a couple of weeks later and then instructed to go and register at the surgery center used by Dr. M. With all this done, it was time to go home and wait.
Waiting on a surgery date is certainly more stressful than waiting on a vacation. You think a vacation date will never get here, but, a surgery date gets here much quicker than you want. Anxiety nags at you more and more each day even though you know 99% of people have no problems with cataract surgery. So it was with my wife. Bravely, she got into the car on the morning of the surgery and we set out for the surgery center. She was scheduled for 10AM, but when 11 rolled by, we were both about ready to say "Forget it!". Finally about 11:15 they called her back. I'm thinking about an hour and then we'll be on our way...not the case of course! Three hours slowly drag by and I have just about sat a hole in my chair. I am now a little worried that something is wrong, but, I've heard nothing and I reason that they would tell me if something was up! I sat there nearly another hour and finally a nurse sticks her head out calling for my wife's family. I gather up her purse (which I had been complimented on several times during the waiting period by total strangers) and followed the nurse to the back. There she was sitting up in a recliner, still groggy from anesthesia, and still hooked up to monitors of all sorts. I greeted her awake and rubbed her back and shoulders a little, then asked to see her eye. She opened it. I could not tell that anything had been done to it. She told me that her eye did not hurt and that she could see very well. About 5 minutes later I am told to go get the car and bring it to the patient departure area to pick her up. I'm out and back quickly and we're on our way home.
The next day we head back to Dr. M's office for a follow up examination. Her eye now has 20-20 vision! Again she thanks and praises the doc on his amazing skill. He told her that he had done over 40,000 cataract surgeries. Her first eye is now fixed and healing nicely. Now for the second eye.
Having watched the actual surgery on her first eye from a video provided by Dr. M, my wife prepared herself for the second eye. Even though she knew what to expect, it still weighed on her mind that someone was going to poke around in her eye again! The anesthesia had made her sick at her stomach the first time, so, IV Zofran was administered during the second surgery to alleviate the sick stomach. It did its job well. The second eye took about the same time as the first. The cataract on the second eye was much more involved and thicker than on the first. After watching the video this time, we both wondered how she could have seen at all from that eye! It's amazing how much different it is to her now.
The follow up on the next day verified what we had expected...she is now 20-20 in both eyes! Praise the Lord my wife can see clearly again! Now and for the next couple of weeks we are to administer drops in her eyes to make sure they heal properly and have no infection. Hopefully we are done with "procedures" for a while, but, for now, she has another great conversation experience that she can share with all her buddies. I guarantee she will!
Our latest adventure was cataract surgery. My sweet wife (bless her heart) had been told she had cataracts a couple years ago. At that time the optometrist assured her that they were small and need not be addressed. On her last visit, he said "Gracious! Those things have really grown! You'll need to have them seen about!". With her vision seeming fairly normal to her, and knowing that Medicare will cover cataract surgery, she asked if she could wait until she reached Medicare age. He told her "Sure...you can wait, but you're already illegal to drive in one eye, the other is not far behind and they're only gonna get worse!" This convinced her, so, here we go...he set her up to see a specialist in cataract removal surgery.
The first visit to Dr. M's office involved meeting and greeting and a quick "see for my self" type eye exam. He said "Yep! You have some fine cataracts there!", then he moves over to his computer. My wife has a gift. She can talk to people and make them think that they are the best thing since sliced bread! She noticed how fast Dr. M was typing and, being a former business teacher, she said "My! You are fast! We need to give you a timed writing!" He grinned and said "My parents made me take typing in high school...hated it then, but now, I'm glad they did!". Well, this opened the door to a variety of conversation topics and I guarantee that by the end of the visit, she had him feeling really good about himself!
The next visit was scheduled about a week later. We arrived at his office and the waiting room was packed. Worried that we might be in for a long wait, my wife asked the receptionist "What's going on today?...almost standing room only!" We were told that a V.A. doc visited Dr. M's clinic once a month and this was the day. Relieved that most of the people there were to see him, not Dr. M, we sat down and waited. This time it was a quick "Hello, how ye doin?" from the doc, then a technician took her and measured the lens in each eye. Not too many years back, the only option was to remove the cataracts restoring the vision a person had before. Now they remove both cataracts and natural lenses and insert an artificial lens. This amazing technology not only eliminates the cataracts, it also improves vision to the point that glasses are no longer needed except maybe to read. With measurements complete, we were given a surgery date a couple of weeks later and then instructed to go and register at the surgery center used by Dr. M. With all this done, it was time to go home and wait.
Waiting on a surgery date is certainly more stressful than waiting on a vacation. You think a vacation date will never get here, but, a surgery date gets here much quicker than you want. Anxiety nags at you more and more each day even though you know 99% of people have no problems with cataract surgery. So it was with my wife. Bravely, she got into the car on the morning of the surgery and we set out for the surgery center. She was scheduled for 10AM, but when 11 rolled by, we were both about ready to say "Forget it!". Finally about 11:15 they called her back. I'm thinking about an hour and then we'll be on our way...not the case of course! Three hours slowly drag by and I have just about sat a hole in my chair. I am now a little worried that something is wrong, but, I've heard nothing and I reason that they would tell me if something was up! I sat there nearly another hour and finally a nurse sticks her head out calling for my wife's family. I gather up her purse (which I had been complimented on several times during the waiting period by total strangers) and followed the nurse to the back. There she was sitting up in a recliner, still groggy from anesthesia, and still hooked up to monitors of all sorts. I greeted her awake and rubbed her back and shoulders a little, then asked to see her eye. She opened it. I could not tell that anything had been done to it. She told me that her eye did not hurt and that she could see very well. About 5 minutes later I am told to go get the car and bring it to the patient departure area to pick her up. I'm out and back quickly and we're on our way home.
The next day we head back to Dr. M's office for a follow up examination. Her eye now has 20-20 vision! Again she thanks and praises the doc on his amazing skill. He told her that he had done over 40,000 cataract surgeries. Her first eye is now fixed and healing nicely. Now for the second eye.
Having watched the actual surgery on her first eye from a video provided by Dr. M, my wife prepared herself for the second eye. Even though she knew what to expect, it still weighed on her mind that someone was going to poke around in her eye again! The anesthesia had made her sick at her stomach the first time, so, IV Zofran was administered during the second surgery to alleviate the sick stomach. It did its job well. The second eye took about the same time as the first. The cataract on the second eye was much more involved and thicker than on the first. After watching the video this time, we both wondered how she could have seen at all from that eye! It's amazing how much different it is to her now.
The follow up on the next day verified what we had expected...she is now 20-20 in both eyes! Praise the Lord my wife can see clearly again! Now and for the next couple of weeks we are to administer drops in her eyes to make sure they heal properly and have no infection. Hopefully we are done with "procedures" for a while, but, for now, she has another great conversation experience that she can share with all her buddies. I guarantee she will!
Wednesday, February 15, 2017
Explaining God.....sort of!
A professor asked one of his students, "You are a Christian, aren't you son?". The student replied, "Yes Sir." Professor: So, you believe in God? Student: Absolutely, Sir. Professor: Is God good? Student: Sure! Professor: Is God all powerful? Student: Yes. Professor: Well, my brother died of cancer even though he prayed to God to heal him. Most of us would try to help others who are ill, but God didn't. How is this God good then? Hmm? Student: Silence Professor: You can't answer can you? Let's start again, young fella, is God good? Student: Yes. Professor: Is satan good? Student: No. Professor: Where does satan come from? Student: From--God. Professor: That's right. Now tell me son, is there evil in this world? Student: Yes. Professor: Evil is everywhere isn't it? And God created everything, correct? Student: Yes. Professor: So, who created evil? Student: again silent. Professor: Is there sickness? Immorality? Hatred? Ugliness? All these things exist in the world don't they? Student: Yes Sir. Professor: So, who created them? Student: No answer. Professor: Science says that you have 5 senses that you use to identify and observe the world around you. Tell me son, have you ever seen God? Student: No Sir. Professor: Tell us if you have ever heard, felt, tasted, or smelt your God? Have you ever had any sensory perception of God for that matter? Student: No Sir, I'm afraid I haven't. Professor: Yet you still believe in Him? Student: Yes! Professor: According to Empirical, Testable, Demonstrable Protocol, science says your God doesn't exist. What do you say to that? Student: Nothing, I only have my faith. Professor: Yes! Faith, and that is the problem science has. Student: Professor, is there such a thing as heat? Professor: Yes. Student: And, is there such a thing as cold? Professor: Yes. Student: No, Sir! There isn't! (class becomes silent) Student: Sir, you can have lots of heat, even more heat, white heat, a little heat, or no heat. But, we don't have anything called cold. We can hit 458 degrees below zero which is no heat, but we can't go any lower than that. There is no such thing as cold. Cold is only a word we use to describe the absence of heat. We cannot measure cold. Heat is energy. Cold is not the opposite of heat, just the absence of it. (Pin drop silence in the room) Student continues: What about darkness, Professor? Is there such a thing as darkness? Professor: Yes, what is night if there isn't darkness? Student: You're wrong again Sir! Darkness is the absence of something. You can have low light, normal light, bright light, or even flashing light. But, if you have no light constantly, you have nothing and it's called darkness. In reality, darkness isn't! If it were, you could make it darker couldn't you? Professor: So what is your point? Student: Sir, my point is that your philosophical premise is flawed! Professor: Flawed? Can you explain? Student: Sir, you are working on the premise of duality. You argue there is life and then there is death, a good God and a bad God. You view the concept of God as something finite, something we can measure. Sir, science can't even explain a thought! It uses electricity and magnetism, but has never seen, much less fully understood either one. To view death as the opposite of life is to be ignorant of the fact that death cannot exist as a substantive thing. Death is not the opposite of life, just the absence of it. Tell me Sir, do you teach evolution? Professor: Yes. Student: Have you ever seen evolution with your own eyes? Professor shakes his head with a smile beginning to realize where the argument was headed. Student continues: Since no one has ever observed the process of evolution at work and cannot even prove that this process is an ongoing endeavor, are you not teaching your opinion Sir? Are you not a scientist but a preacher? The classroom explodes in an uproar. Student continues: Is there anyone in the class who has ever seen the Professor's brain? (much laughter) Is there anyone who has heard, felt, tasted or smelt it? No one? So, according o the established rules of Empirical, Stable, Demonstrable Protocol, science says that you have no brain Sir! With all due respect Sir, how do we then trust your lectures? The room is again deftly silent. The Professor stares at the student, his face unfathomable. After a long pause, Professor: I guess you'll have to take them on faith, son. Student: That is it Sir--Exactly! The link between man and God is faith. that is all that keeps things alive and moving.
The argument above took place in a time quite different than today. Even so, the points made by both the Professor and the Student are still common to arguments today regarding the existence of God. As Christians, we know that we cannot "argue" a person into heaven, but, we can defend our own faith just as the student did in the argument above. More and more scientists are coming to the realization of a "Grand Design". Evolution and Big Bang theories just don't seem to "measure" up in a scientific view, as science is in the business of measurement!
My hope is that someone somewhere might read this and better understand his relationship with God. Faith is the key and, by the way, the Student in the narrative above was____Albert Einstein! Have a blessed day!
The argument above took place in a time quite different than today. Even so, the points made by both the Professor and the Student are still common to arguments today regarding the existence of God. As Christians, we know that we cannot "argue" a person into heaven, but, we can defend our own faith just as the student did in the argument above. More and more scientists are coming to the realization of a "Grand Design". Evolution and Big Bang theories just don't seem to "measure" up in a scientific view, as science is in the business of measurement!
My hope is that someone somewhere might read this and better understand his relationship with God. Faith is the key and, by the way, the Student in the narrative above was____Albert Einstein! Have a blessed day!
Saturday, November 5, 2016
Wax Lips and Candy Cigarettes
At the tender age of five I attended my first Halloween carnival at the little country school. Weeks earlier, my first grade teacher, Mrs Harmon, explained to us that my class would be competing against the second, third, and fourth grade classes to see which class could raise the most money for the school. Each class was to select a boy and a girl to represent them in a pageant on carnival night for the titles of "Prince" and "Princess". Representatives of the class that raised the most money were to be crowned. For junior high the titles were "Duke" and "Duchess" and for high school "King" and "Queen".
In those days you could buy two bottles of chocolate (or white) milk for a nickel. The milk came in small glass bottles with a paper tab-like lid..I still remember how good they were. This would be about the only spending money most of us had and that wasn't every day! Many times I shared a bottle with a buddy or they with me, but, during the Halloween season our milk money was spent on things like wax lips and candy cigarettes. Our teachers would order boxes of novelty candies for us to buy and sell before, during, and after school. At a penny each, we thought we were really getting a bargain. Made of red wax, the lips would be worn by each kid for a while, then chewed like gum until all sweetness was gone. How cool did we look with a candy cigarette sticking out of our mouths...just like dad! As the days passed by leading up to the carnival, we hawked all sorts of penny candies, home made brownies and rice crispy treats, grab bags, and of course, raffle tickets on some super-wonderful prize that would be drawn for and given away that night. It was very exciting for us to compete with the other grades and we were so proud of the amount of money that we had worked so hard to raise. Would it be enough for our class to win?
Finally the night of the carnival arrived. The little school that housed grades one through twelve would be jam packed with a mass of humanity. Everyone in our school community would be there along with many visitors from surrounding schools and the small towns. In every room, desks and tables would be moved and stacked in one corner in order to make room for the class's booth. Doors and windows were decorated and the rooms were transformed into haunted houses or game rooms. Prizes and confections had been provided and collected during the week prior to the carnival and word always got out as to which class had the best prizes to give away. In the latter years, a dunking booth would be set up on the school yard. This was always a big draw as all the kids wanted the pleasure of dunking their principal, their teacher, or their coach. Yep!...this ol coach put in his time!
After taking their children around to see what each class was doing with their rooms, the adults would drift to the school's auditorium to sit and visit with each other or to participate in the PTA cake walk held on the stage. Mr. Dale would always command the only microphone and he would give the name of the lady who baked the cake while holding it up for all to see. After the allotted time, cakes that had not been won in the cake walk would be simply auctioned off. Mr Dale could make one of those cakes sound so scrumptious that people just had to buy it whether they wanted it or not!
Once the allotted time was up, the rooms were closed and all money was counted. While this took place, all the raffle items were drawn for in the auditorium. Sometimes a local country band would perform a few songs to fill in time or the people would simply sit and wait. There was no hurry. People enjoyed each other's company.
Once the money was counted, the candidates for Prince and Princess took the stage. It was not uncommon for the "Princess" of the couple to be head and shoulders taller than her "Prince", but, it didn't matter for they were dressed with the finest little suits and dresses of the day reminiscent of the band performance in "The Music Man". Parents were so proud of their prince or princess. The height problem could easily be solved during the picture taking session with a box for the shorter Prince to stand upon.
I don't remember my class winning until we were seniors in high school (seniors always had an advantage it seems). Other classes ahead or behind us had superior numbers and therefore had more avenues to raise money (that's my story and I'm stickin to it!). The amounts of money raised for the school varied from year to year until the last carnival before the school was consolidated. Somewhere around $12,000 was raised at the final carnival as I recall. This was a tremendous amount for a small rural school with an enrollment around 250 students grades 1-12.
I attended the carnivals as a student and helped put them on as a teacher over a period of about 40 years. It was a grand time each year. Romances budded or wilted, pecking orders were established or changed, old friendships were renewed, children wore themselves out, and a great sense of pride filled the hearts of everyone involved. Ahhh....the memories of good times together!
In those days you could buy two bottles of chocolate (or white) milk for a nickel. The milk came in small glass bottles with a paper tab-like lid..I still remember how good they were. This would be about the only spending money most of us had and that wasn't every day! Many times I shared a bottle with a buddy or they with me, but, during the Halloween season our milk money was spent on things like wax lips and candy cigarettes. Our teachers would order boxes of novelty candies for us to buy and sell before, during, and after school. At a penny each, we thought we were really getting a bargain. Made of red wax, the lips would be worn by each kid for a while, then chewed like gum until all sweetness was gone. How cool did we look with a candy cigarette sticking out of our mouths...just like dad! As the days passed by leading up to the carnival, we hawked all sorts of penny candies, home made brownies and rice crispy treats, grab bags, and of course, raffle tickets on some super-wonderful prize that would be drawn for and given away that night. It was very exciting for us to compete with the other grades and we were so proud of the amount of money that we had worked so hard to raise. Would it be enough for our class to win?
Finally the night of the carnival arrived. The little school that housed grades one through twelve would be jam packed with a mass of humanity. Everyone in our school community would be there along with many visitors from surrounding schools and the small towns. In every room, desks and tables would be moved and stacked in one corner in order to make room for the class's booth. Doors and windows were decorated and the rooms were transformed into haunted houses or game rooms. Prizes and confections had been provided and collected during the week prior to the carnival and word always got out as to which class had the best prizes to give away. In the latter years, a dunking booth would be set up on the school yard. This was always a big draw as all the kids wanted the pleasure of dunking their principal, their teacher, or their coach. Yep!...this ol coach put in his time!
After taking their children around to see what each class was doing with their rooms, the adults would drift to the school's auditorium to sit and visit with each other or to participate in the PTA cake walk held on the stage. Mr. Dale would always command the only microphone and he would give the name of the lady who baked the cake while holding it up for all to see. After the allotted time, cakes that had not been won in the cake walk would be simply auctioned off. Mr Dale could make one of those cakes sound so scrumptious that people just had to buy it whether they wanted it or not!
Once the allotted time was up, the rooms were closed and all money was counted. While this took place, all the raffle items were drawn for in the auditorium. Sometimes a local country band would perform a few songs to fill in time or the people would simply sit and wait. There was no hurry. People enjoyed each other's company.
Once the money was counted, the candidates for Prince and Princess took the stage. It was not uncommon for the "Princess" of the couple to be head and shoulders taller than her "Prince", but, it didn't matter for they were dressed with the finest little suits and dresses of the day reminiscent of the band performance in "The Music Man". Parents were so proud of their prince or princess. The height problem could easily be solved during the picture taking session with a box for the shorter Prince to stand upon.
I don't remember my class winning until we were seniors in high school (seniors always had an advantage it seems). Other classes ahead or behind us had superior numbers and therefore had more avenues to raise money (that's my story and I'm stickin to it!). The amounts of money raised for the school varied from year to year until the last carnival before the school was consolidated. Somewhere around $12,000 was raised at the final carnival as I recall. This was a tremendous amount for a small rural school with an enrollment around 250 students grades 1-12.
I attended the carnivals as a student and helped put them on as a teacher over a period of about 40 years. It was a grand time each year. Romances budded or wilted, pecking orders were established or changed, old friendships were renewed, children wore themselves out, and a great sense of pride filled the hearts of everyone involved. Ahhh....the memories of good times together!
Monday, July 11, 2016
America?... Where are you?
I grew up in America, the United States. I still live in the place where we roamed the woods and fields freely, never worried about locking doors, learned Christian values and lived by them, and went to sleep each night feeling safe and secure. We made slingshots, bow and arrows, and learned to shoot and respect guns at an early age. We went to school and started each day with the pledge of allegiance and a short Christian devotional that ended with prayer. Teachers commanded and received respect from students just as parents did. There was no uproar when a student was disciplined, parents expected the school to make their children behave. We didn't have to worry about so called "gays" or " transgenders". If there were any, they kept it secret for they knew that if it got out, somebody would beat the tar out of them, not to injure them badly, just to "straighten " them out.
I lived through the turbulent times of the 1960's. America staggered a bit with all the civil unrest at the time, but, came out unified once again under the boundaries of common sense and decency. Then we were plunged into the Vietnam war by a presidential administration that could not give clear cut reason for it. Mistrust in our government and leadership began to appear. People began to dodge the draft by leaving the country or going to jail. Our brave soldiers fought the war without the full backing of the country. Many died and many were wounded taking a piece of land from the Viet Cong, only to walk off and leave it. People never understood this war, yet, men and women across the nation observed the draft and served valiantly out of love and respect for America. Still, most Americans believed and trusted that our president and lawmakers were working to make our country better and stronger.
Through the next fifty or so years we dealt with Presidential scandals, Middle East wars, and terror attacks. All the while, liberalists have slowly become "super" liberal, to the point that an entire generation of people now think that they are "entitled" to an affluent lifestyle without having to work a day in their lives. The ideals of the "American way" that were instilled in me mean nothing to the present generation of people. Many of our leaders are so liberal that they want to give the whole country away it seems.
America? Where are you? It seems that every day we wake up in a new country. The president gets away with ridiculous executive orders, liberal judges rule against the will of the people, and law enforcement gets crucified every time they do their duty. The idea that a person can lawfully enter a bathroom based on what they "feel" is their gender on a given day is beyond ludicrous! The idea that we should not restrict immigration from Islamic countries is downright foolish. The toleration of a presidential candidate who has been under FBI investigation is mind boggling.
America? Where are you? The "Black Lives Matter" protests are being sensationalized by the media to the point where individuals are purposefully getting arrested so that a buddy can film it and submit it to a tv network. Reporters go on and on about police brutality or misuse of deadly force directed toward persons of color and barely mention that the person injured or killed has a criminal record or is threatening the life of the officer. Do black lives matter?.....well....Duh! All human life matters to anyone with a shred of decency. It is almost a sure bet that a man who works for his living and lives a sober, law abiding life will never have a bad experience with an officer of the law.
I suppose I'm disgusted, disgruntled, or dis-something with the way America is changing. I hoped the country would be an even better place for my kids and grandkids than it was for me....doesn't look that good right now. America? Where are you?
I lived through the turbulent times of the 1960's. America staggered a bit with all the civil unrest at the time, but, came out unified once again under the boundaries of common sense and decency. Then we were plunged into the Vietnam war by a presidential administration that could not give clear cut reason for it. Mistrust in our government and leadership began to appear. People began to dodge the draft by leaving the country or going to jail. Our brave soldiers fought the war without the full backing of the country. Many died and many were wounded taking a piece of land from the Viet Cong, only to walk off and leave it. People never understood this war, yet, men and women across the nation observed the draft and served valiantly out of love and respect for America. Still, most Americans believed and trusted that our president and lawmakers were working to make our country better and stronger.
Through the next fifty or so years we dealt with Presidential scandals, Middle East wars, and terror attacks. All the while, liberalists have slowly become "super" liberal, to the point that an entire generation of people now think that they are "entitled" to an affluent lifestyle without having to work a day in their lives. The ideals of the "American way" that were instilled in me mean nothing to the present generation of people. Many of our leaders are so liberal that they want to give the whole country away it seems.
America? Where are you? It seems that every day we wake up in a new country. The president gets away with ridiculous executive orders, liberal judges rule against the will of the people, and law enforcement gets crucified every time they do their duty. The idea that a person can lawfully enter a bathroom based on what they "feel" is their gender on a given day is beyond ludicrous! The idea that we should not restrict immigration from Islamic countries is downright foolish. The toleration of a presidential candidate who has been under FBI investigation is mind boggling.
America? Where are you? The "Black Lives Matter" protests are being sensationalized by the media to the point where individuals are purposefully getting arrested so that a buddy can film it and submit it to a tv network. Reporters go on and on about police brutality or misuse of deadly force directed toward persons of color and barely mention that the person injured or killed has a criminal record or is threatening the life of the officer. Do black lives matter?.....well....Duh! All human life matters to anyone with a shred of decency. It is almost a sure bet that a man who works for his living and lives a sober, law abiding life will never have a bad experience with an officer of the law.
I suppose I'm disgusted, disgruntled, or dis-something with the way America is changing. I hoped the country would be an even better place for my kids and grandkids than it was for me....doesn't look that good right now. America? Where are you?
Sunday, March 20, 2016
Keepin up with the Grands
Getting old is not for sissies! Your body does not cooperate with your mind in the way it did when you were younger! I still try to do things as I did when I was a young man and feel just fine during the act. It's the after effects that tell me "Yep! You're old!".
Well, even so, there are some perks with age and one of the best is grand children. We have seven grand children at the moment. Two of them live close to us and we see them regularly. The others live hours away and we miss seeing them all the time!
It's funny....when the grands come around, we go into the entertaining mode immediately. We've bought new toys, fresh chalk, crayons, coloring books, play dough, and brought out old stuff that "Nana" saved from our own kids' childhood. Once here, the playing starts and is non-stop until they either leave or reach bed time. I guess that because we know we won't have much time with them, we think we have to make it count!...so, we do! It's exhausting but worth every minute. We wallow around on the floor with them, well, one of us at the time...we learned that one of was needed to help the other get up off the floor! We sing to them and tell them stories, trying to make as many memories as possible in the short time they are with us. Nana, bless her heart, tries her best to get a "good" picture, but, one or more have their eyes shut, or, are looking at something other than the camera...they just don't get it!
Two of my grand sons are teenagers and are in a different world all together. They just sort of grunt a "Hey Papaw" then settle into their world of silence. Iphones with unlimited text plans have almost taken open verbal conversation out of their lives! Even our own daughters and son spend a lot of visit time looking at their phones....thinking about a "no phone" zone at my house!
One of our former pastors talked about his grandchildren at times. He said "The little angels would arrive early in the morning and the little devils left at dark!" We knew he was joking and he, like us, wanted to have his grand children with him as much as possible.
We are about to pack up and go to one of my daughter's house to keep our 2 and 3 year old grand daughters for a couple of days. Pray for us...they are a busy pair and get into everything! Still, we look forward to it with great anticipation. We'll play with them, sing songs, rock them, feed them, and love them to death. Nana will once again try for that illusive "good" picture, and we'll make memories as we spend our time keeping up with the grands!
Well, even so, there are some perks with age and one of the best is grand children. We have seven grand children at the moment. Two of them live close to us and we see them regularly. The others live hours away and we miss seeing them all the time!
It's funny....when the grands come around, we go into the entertaining mode immediately. We've bought new toys, fresh chalk, crayons, coloring books, play dough, and brought out old stuff that "Nana" saved from our own kids' childhood. Once here, the playing starts and is non-stop until they either leave or reach bed time. I guess that because we know we won't have much time with them, we think we have to make it count!...so, we do! It's exhausting but worth every minute. We wallow around on the floor with them, well, one of us at the time...we learned that one of was needed to help the other get up off the floor! We sing to them and tell them stories, trying to make as many memories as possible in the short time they are with us. Nana, bless her heart, tries her best to get a "good" picture, but, one or more have their eyes shut, or, are looking at something other than the camera...they just don't get it!
Two of my grand sons are teenagers and are in a different world all together. They just sort of grunt a "Hey Papaw" then settle into their world of silence. Iphones with unlimited text plans have almost taken open verbal conversation out of their lives! Even our own daughters and son spend a lot of visit time looking at their phones....thinking about a "no phone" zone at my house!
One of our former pastors talked about his grandchildren at times. He said "The little angels would arrive early in the morning and the little devils left at dark!" We knew he was joking and he, like us, wanted to have his grand children with him as much as possible.
We are about to pack up and go to one of my daughter's house to keep our 2 and 3 year old grand daughters for a couple of days. Pray for us...they are a busy pair and get into everything! Still, we look forward to it with great anticipation. We'll play with them, sing songs, rock them, feed them, and love them to death. Nana will once again try for that illusive "good" picture, and we'll make memories as we spend our time keeping up with the grands!
Wednesday, January 20, 2016
Wait on it....Wait!
Have you ever thought about how much time you've spent in your life waiting on something? Most people, including myself, are not good at waiting. We live in a culture that expects instant gratification in all aspects of our lives. When we have to wait on something, we often whine and complain, even lose our tempers, our good sense, and our tongues sometimes!
I don't know anyone who enjoys waiting in a line. We don't like waiting on food at burger joints. We don't like waiting on stoplights (my Pastor says they are instruments of the devil). We don't like waiting on the good things in life such as the fish to start biting or for a good supper to get cooked! Now it's gotten to the point where we snarl and fuss when we click the computer mouse and the page doesn't instantly pull up!
"Have a seat in the waiting room and the doctor will see you in a few minutes."...oh boy!...waiting rooms! All major institutions in our society have designated areas for us to wait....waiting rooms or waiting areas. I don't like waiting rooms one bit! They are usually always nearly full, you have to sit down next to a total stranger, you don't know what sort of germ you might catch from those people, you may have to make conversation with them, and you wonder how long you will have to wait. Once I took my Dad to the eye doctor. My Mom went along as well and we got to the office a few minutes early. After signing in, we moved into the crowded waiting room to sit and wait. Mom and Dad were able to sit next to one another but I had to sit across the room. The nurses were leading people out and taking people back in their usual busy manner. Most of those coming out had dilated eyes from whatever procedure they had undergone, and, because they were nearly blind, the nurses would patiently lead them to the waiting room to deliver them to their family members. One fellow came out on his own and sat down next to a lady who he thought was his wife. He said, "Honey they dilated my eyes and I can't hardly see nothin!". The lady looked at him and smiled as she said, "I believe it cause, I ain't yo wife!....Honey!". I cracked up! His actual wife was there in a flash, gathering him up and both apologizing to the lady. Someone ought to write a book.."Tales of the Waiting Room"...might be a best seller!
Psalm 27:14 Wait on the Lord, be of good courage and He shall strengthen your heart; wait I say, on the Lord!
Why is it so hard for us to wait? Christians ought to be good at it for from the moment of conversion we begin to wait upon the return of Jesus. We wait on God all the time for His instruction, His direction, or His intervention in our lives. God can change our circumstances. The problem with us is that God's timing is usually different from ours and we must wait in our present circumstance when we want to move forward.
Even so, it is always wise to wait on God. We live in the "right now" society. Instant gratification defines it, but, we must hone our waiting skills. God gives clear direction to us but seldom quickly. We must wait till He
gives it. Wait on the Lord.
Psalm 32:8 "I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go; I will guide you with my eye".
God uses our waiting time to prepare us for His purpose. Good parents do not give their children everything the ask for. Besides spoiling them, sometimes we know that the timing isn't right. Give them sugary treats or soft drinks just before bed time?...don't think so...the "timing" isn't right! How much more does God know this for us His children? Waiting also strengthens our faith. We cannot have too much of it for it provides us with hope when all else fails. Faith will sustain in whatever circumstance we find ourselves.
Finally, waiting allows us time to sift through our motives. Time allows a good thought process to play in our minds..."Why do I want this?"..."Do I need this?"..."Will I use this enough to justify the expense?"..."Will this benefit my family or just myself?"..."Will this cause a financial burden?"...etc. If we allow God to sift through our motives, the truth will come out, good or bad, and, we can better make a decision. If you need to make a life changing decision, wait a little, think through it carefully and let God direct you.
As I have gotten older, I find that waiting is not as bad for me as it used to be. I can tolerate it much better at my age now than I could when I was younger. A good word and friendly smile seem to expedite the waiting process. Still I must wait till Jesus returns or until God calls me home, we all do, so, let's just call it an "art" and wait on the Lord! He will sustain us.
I don't know anyone who enjoys waiting in a line. We don't like waiting on food at burger joints. We don't like waiting on stoplights (my Pastor says they are instruments of the devil). We don't like waiting on the good things in life such as the fish to start biting or for a good supper to get cooked! Now it's gotten to the point where we snarl and fuss when we click the computer mouse and the page doesn't instantly pull up!
"Have a seat in the waiting room and the doctor will see you in a few minutes."...oh boy!...waiting rooms! All major institutions in our society have designated areas for us to wait....waiting rooms or waiting areas. I don't like waiting rooms one bit! They are usually always nearly full, you have to sit down next to a total stranger, you don't know what sort of germ you might catch from those people, you may have to make conversation with them, and you wonder how long you will have to wait. Once I took my Dad to the eye doctor. My Mom went along as well and we got to the office a few minutes early. After signing in, we moved into the crowded waiting room to sit and wait. Mom and Dad were able to sit next to one another but I had to sit across the room. The nurses were leading people out and taking people back in their usual busy manner. Most of those coming out had dilated eyes from whatever procedure they had undergone, and, because they were nearly blind, the nurses would patiently lead them to the waiting room to deliver them to their family members. One fellow came out on his own and sat down next to a lady who he thought was his wife. He said, "Honey they dilated my eyes and I can't hardly see nothin!". The lady looked at him and smiled as she said, "I believe it cause, I ain't yo wife!....Honey!". I cracked up! His actual wife was there in a flash, gathering him up and both apologizing to the lady. Someone ought to write a book.."Tales of the Waiting Room"...might be a best seller!
Psalm 27:14 Wait on the Lord, be of good courage and He shall strengthen your heart; wait I say, on the Lord!
Why is it so hard for us to wait? Christians ought to be good at it for from the moment of conversion we begin to wait upon the return of Jesus. We wait on God all the time for His instruction, His direction, or His intervention in our lives. God can change our circumstances. The problem with us is that God's timing is usually different from ours and we must wait in our present circumstance when we want to move forward.
Even so, it is always wise to wait on God. We live in the "right now" society. Instant gratification defines it, but, we must hone our waiting skills. God gives clear direction to us but seldom quickly. We must wait till He
gives it. Wait on the Lord.
Psalm 32:8 "I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go; I will guide you with my eye".
God uses our waiting time to prepare us for His purpose. Good parents do not give their children everything the ask for. Besides spoiling them, sometimes we know that the timing isn't right. Give them sugary treats or soft drinks just before bed time?...don't think so...the "timing" isn't right! How much more does God know this for us His children? Waiting also strengthens our faith. We cannot have too much of it for it provides us with hope when all else fails. Faith will sustain in whatever circumstance we find ourselves.
Finally, waiting allows us time to sift through our motives. Time allows a good thought process to play in our minds..."Why do I want this?"..."Do I need this?"..."Will I use this enough to justify the expense?"..."Will this benefit my family or just myself?"..."Will this cause a financial burden?"...etc. If we allow God to sift through our motives, the truth will come out, good or bad, and, we can better make a decision. If you need to make a life changing decision, wait a little, think through it carefully and let God direct you.
As I have gotten older, I find that waiting is not as bad for me as it used to be. I can tolerate it much better at my age now than I could when I was younger. A good word and friendly smile seem to expedite the waiting process. Still I must wait till Jesus returns or until God calls me home, we all do, so, let's just call it an "art" and wait on the Lord! He will sustain us.
Tuesday, November 3, 2015
The Handshake
I suppose everyone has a particular "claim to fame" event in their lives. For me, one of those memorable events took place while playing baseball in college. I attended a small college in west Alabama on a work/ study program. Scholarships for baseball players were very limited back then, so, many of my teammates were also included in this (almost a scholarship, but not quite) work/study program.
We were very good athletes. Most of us attended small rural high schools from across the country and were simply unnoticed by the larger universities. We could flat play some baseball as could most of the smaller schools throughout the south. Each year our schedule included a few games against a few larger universities. I'm sure we were considered as easy wins for them, but, we could hang with them and often come out on top. This particular season we were scheduled to play a doubleheader in Tuscaloosa against the University of Alabama.
The day arrived and early that Saturday morning, we boarded the old rickety bus and made the two hour drive to Tuscaloosa. To a bunch of old country boys who had never been anywhere much, it seemed like a huge metropolis. There were gigantic buildings everywhere and students moving from place to place like ants on an ant hill. The bleachers were already nearly full and the Alabama players were on the field loosening up for the game. Somebody said "We don't need to pick no fight today...we outnumbered bad!". He was right, there must have been 80 or more of them dressed out that day.
The Crimson Tide couldn't roll us that day. We took both games of the doubleheader and I had a good day both in the field and at the plate. The one good thing about playing a large university was that win or lose, you were going to get fed. After the games we were led to the athletic dorm's cafeteria. Now, this was no ordinary cafeteria. They fed their athletes here and they fed them well! There were big steaks, chicken, ham, potatoes, all sorts of vegetables and any non-alcoholic beverage known to man. The desserts were cakes, pies, and ice cream...everything geared toward building bodies bigger and stronger. We loaded our trays and sat down at a few tables to eat when someone said "looky yonder!". As soon as I looked up and saw this man in coach's attire and wearing a houndstooth hat, I knew it was the Bear himself. That's right...Coach Paul "Bear" Bryant was right in front of us!
As he took off his hat, someone stopped him a moment for a brief word, then he came straightway to our tables and congratulated us for playing so well. He then moved around the tables shaking our hands and asking if the food was good etc.. When he got to me, he took my hand and said, "You had a good day today didn't ye?". I said "Yes sir. Thank you sir.". I thought then and still think today, this was a good man. I mean, here's one of the best football coaches that ever lived, yet he wasn't full of himself or unreachable to us. He had watched us play and simply admired our effort and ability.
I will never forget that handshake. His hand seemed huge. My hand is by no means small and it seemed that his enveloped mine completely. I am sure that Coach Bryant quickly forgot us, but you can bet that we never forgot how he treated us. So there you have it, one of my "claims to fame". I shook hands with the great Bear Bryant. I won't be forgetting that!
We were very good athletes. Most of us attended small rural high schools from across the country and were simply unnoticed by the larger universities. We could flat play some baseball as could most of the smaller schools throughout the south. Each year our schedule included a few games against a few larger universities. I'm sure we were considered as easy wins for them, but, we could hang with them and often come out on top. This particular season we were scheduled to play a doubleheader in Tuscaloosa against the University of Alabama.
The day arrived and early that Saturday morning, we boarded the old rickety bus and made the two hour drive to Tuscaloosa. To a bunch of old country boys who had never been anywhere much, it seemed like a huge metropolis. There were gigantic buildings everywhere and students moving from place to place like ants on an ant hill. The bleachers were already nearly full and the Alabama players were on the field loosening up for the game. Somebody said "We don't need to pick no fight today...we outnumbered bad!". He was right, there must have been 80 or more of them dressed out that day.
The Crimson Tide couldn't roll us that day. We took both games of the doubleheader and I had a good day both in the field and at the plate. The one good thing about playing a large university was that win or lose, you were going to get fed. After the games we were led to the athletic dorm's cafeteria. Now, this was no ordinary cafeteria. They fed their athletes here and they fed them well! There were big steaks, chicken, ham, potatoes, all sorts of vegetables and any non-alcoholic beverage known to man. The desserts were cakes, pies, and ice cream...everything geared toward building bodies bigger and stronger. We loaded our trays and sat down at a few tables to eat when someone said "looky yonder!". As soon as I looked up and saw this man in coach's attire and wearing a houndstooth hat, I knew it was the Bear himself. That's right...Coach Paul "Bear" Bryant was right in front of us!
As he took off his hat, someone stopped him a moment for a brief word, then he came straightway to our tables and congratulated us for playing so well. He then moved around the tables shaking our hands and asking if the food was good etc.. When he got to me, he took my hand and said, "You had a good day today didn't ye?". I said "Yes sir. Thank you sir.". I thought then and still think today, this was a good man. I mean, here's one of the best football coaches that ever lived, yet he wasn't full of himself or unreachable to us. He had watched us play and simply admired our effort and ability.
I will never forget that handshake. His hand seemed huge. My hand is by no means small and it seemed that his enveloped mine completely. I am sure that Coach Bryant quickly forgot us, but you can bet that we never forgot how he treated us. So there you have it, one of my "claims to fame". I shook hands with the great Bear Bryant. I won't be forgetting that!
Tuesday, May 26, 2015
"Settin" out hooks
As teenage boys in the rural south of the 1960's, our pastimes were sports, hunting, fishing, and of course girls! A few of us had an old worn out car or truck, but most had no girlfriend, or if we did, it meant only one date a week...maybe twice if she'd let you come sit with her on Sunday afternoon between church services. Shoot, we couldn't afford more than that anyway..movies were $1.50 a head, burgers for both would nearly be a 5-spot, and if you used the family car, you were expected to replace all the 25 cent per gallon gas that was used, so, there was always some of my friends ready to go with me to set out hooks.
Spring break was a prime time for "settin" the hooks. We had a whole week to fish. I would "make up" 25-30 lines. I'd take a spool of strong nylon twine and cut pieces about 6 feet long. I'd tie a granny knot on one end and then a slip knot on the same end forming a loop. On the other end I'd tie a large hook and then crimp a large piece of lead about 4 inches above the hook.
Once the lines were ready, it was time to gather some bait. A catfish is a bottom feeder and will eat most anything. Preferably the bait needed to be sturdy enough to withstand the constant pecking from the panfish in the creek. Earthworms and catalpa worms are better used after dark because of this and you can bet the hook will be clean the next morning. My favorite baits were crawfish and " puppy dawgs". "Puppy dawgs" are spotted salamanders indigenous to our area. They are found in the woods under old rotting logs and large tree limbs. It took some effort to find enough of them to bait the hooks for several nights, but it was fun finding them and well worth the effort.
Now with hooks and bait, I'd head over to the creek. Poles could usually be cut along the creek banks unless the hooks were to be set down one of the many cow pastures that existed in those days. Small hardwood saplings were good because they were sturdy and you could usually leave a small fork on the top end which made fastening the line easier. Cane poles were also good, but, required a little more care to fasten the lines so that they wouldn't slip off the end.
To set the pole I would try to select a spot on the bank that would be easy to reach in the dark, then I would stick the butt end of the pole in the bank, pushing down on the pole so that when the ground raised it back a little, the hook would be suspended slightly off the bottom. Depth of the creek didn't matter. If the hole took all the line, so be it, or if the creek was shallow in a spot, just wrap the line around the end of the pole till it reached the desired depth.
Along about dark, we'd all gather up and head to the creek. Most brought a light, a quilt or sleeping bag to sit on, and something to eat and drink. The first thing to do was clean off a spot and build a small fire. Wieners or smoked sausage links roasted over an open fire were some of the best tasting things in the world! Sometimes we'd make a stew, sometimes we'd just snack on cookies or cakes, whatever we could round up to bring. It was all good and we all shared what we had. We joked about each other's performance in the last ballgame, our parents and friends, and our lives in general. We carried on serious conversations about the Vietnam war and especially the draft. We talked of our dreams and ambitions, all the while making jokes and wisecracks. You learn a lot about your friends sitting around a camp fire where nothing inhibits your thoughts and words. Secrets were unveiled and lifelong friendships were formed.
After we ate, when it had become good dark, we'd run the lines. Generally on the first night we'd catch a lot oh mud cat and eel. They are good eating but the prize catch was channel cat, the big boys of the creek. You could tell by the way the pole acted whether you had a good fish or a small one. If the pole was bouncing or just slapping the water...mud cat or eel. If the pole was being pulled under or pulled down and hung up, you knew you had a good fish...channel cat or maybe a blue, flat head, or spotted cat. We'd take turns at each hook, giving everyone a chance to catch something. We'd run the lines four or five times between dark and about midnight, then we'd gather up our stuff, take care to kill the fire, and then walk out, usually with a good mess of fish. Sometimes we caught nothing at all! It didn't matter, we were young and strong, full of hope and ambition, and on the verge of being completely on our own.
If you can read between the lines, setting the hooks was a viable reason for us to get out from under our parents for a while. Jimmy, Bobby, Festus, Lip, Chub, Joe, Chunk, Wesley, Bob and Rocky (brothers), and Moose are some of the guys whose company I enjoyed on these fishing trips. Some were drafted and went to Vietnam. Joe gave his life there. Others chose the military as a career, some made accountants, some farmers, some business men, and a couple made school teachers. Those of us who are left are older now. We don't see each other as often, but, we'll always remember the good times we had "settin" out those hooks!
Spring break was a prime time for "settin" the hooks. We had a whole week to fish. I would "make up" 25-30 lines. I'd take a spool of strong nylon twine and cut pieces about 6 feet long. I'd tie a granny knot on one end and then a slip knot on the same end forming a loop. On the other end I'd tie a large hook and then crimp a large piece of lead about 4 inches above the hook.
Once the lines were ready, it was time to gather some bait. A catfish is a bottom feeder and will eat most anything. Preferably the bait needed to be sturdy enough to withstand the constant pecking from the panfish in the creek. Earthworms and catalpa worms are better used after dark because of this and you can bet the hook will be clean the next morning. My favorite baits were crawfish and " puppy dawgs". "Puppy dawgs" are spotted salamanders indigenous to our area. They are found in the woods under old rotting logs and large tree limbs. It took some effort to find enough of them to bait the hooks for several nights, but it was fun finding them and well worth the effort.
Now with hooks and bait, I'd head over to the creek. Poles could usually be cut along the creek banks unless the hooks were to be set down one of the many cow pastures that existed in those days. Small hardwood saplings were good because they were sturdy and you could usually leave a small fork on the top end which made fastening the line easier. Cane poles were also good, but, required a little more care to fasten the lines so that they wouldn't slip off the end.
To set the pole I would try to select a spot on the bank that would be easy to reach in the dark, then I would stick the butt end of the pole in the bank, pushing down on the pole so that when the ground raised it back a little, the hook would be suspended slightly off the bottom. Depth of the creek didn't matter. If the hole took all the line, so be it, or if the creek was shallow in a spot, just wrap the line around the end of the pole till it reached the desired depth.
Along about dark, we'd all gather up and head to the creek. Most brought a light, a quilt or sleeping bag to sit on, and something to eat and drink. The first thing to do was clean off a spot and build a small fire. Wieners or smoked sausage links roasted over an open fire were some of the best tasting things in the world! Sometimes we'd make a stew, sometimes we'd just snack on cookies or cakes, whatever we could round up to bring. It was all good and we all shared what we had. We joked about each other's performance in the last ballgame, our parents and friends, and our lives in general. We carried on serious conversations about the Vietnam war and especially the draft. We talked of our dreams and ambitions, all the while making jokes and wisecracks. You learn a lot about your friends sitting around a camp fire where nothing inhibits your thoughts and words. Secrets were unveiled and lifelong friendships were formed.
After we ate, when it had become good dark, we'd run the lines. Generally on the first night we'd catch a lot oh mud cat and eel. They are good eating but the prize catch was channel cat, the big boys of the creek. You could tell by the way the pole acted whether you had a good fish or a small one. If the pole was bouncing or just slapping the water...mud cat or eel. If the pole was being pulled under or pulled down and hung up, you knew you had a good fish...channel cat or maybe a blue, flat head, or spotted cat. We'd take turns at each hook, giving everyone a chance to catch something. We'd run the lines four or five times between dark and about midnight, then we'd gather up our stuff, take care to kill the fire, and then walk out, usually with a good mess of fish. Sometimes we caught nothing at all! It didn't matter, we were young and strong, full of hope and ambition, and on the verge of being completely on our own.
If you can read between the lines, setting the hooks was a viable reason for us to get out from under our parents for a while. Jimmy, Bobby, Festus, Lip, Chub, Joe, Chunk, Wesley, Bob and Rocky (brothers), and Moose are some of the guys whose company I enjoyed on these fishing trips. Some were drafted and went to Vietnam. Joe gave his life there. Others chose the military as a career, some made accountants, some farmers, some business men, and a couple made school teachers. Those of us who are left are older now. We don't see each other as often, but, we'll always remember the good times we had "settin" out those hooks!
Thursday, March 5, 2015
She's a'comin down!
Stoically she stands in our rural community. Beulah church was established in 1850, and, the original building was constructed prior to the Civil War somewhere around 1855. Some modifications and modernizations have taken place over the years, but, the original foundation blocks and timbers are still in place under the old sanctuary.
Many of us who still live here grew up in the church. As a child, the building was a wood frame structure with an auditorium filled with old wooden pews. Connected to the back were two stories of Sunday school rooms. There was no air conditioning. In the heat of the summer, two giant fans located on the front walls of the church pulled air through the structure. Gas heaters kept us warm in the winter. It didn't matter. People came to hear the Word preached by men of God who were willing and able to be heard over the noise of the fans and in the still of the winter.
There was no baptistry in the church. Baptisms were held in local ponds and creeks, or, in a bigger church located in an area town. There was something special about these events, and they are ingrained in our memories forever.
Every summer the church hosted a Vacation Bible School. In my youth, there were only two structures on the campus-- the church building and the parsonage. Between the two buildings there were some oak trees, some of which were close enough together that someone had nailed boards to them, making rudimentary tables. These became "refreshment" tables during Bible School, loaded with kool-aid and cookies for the children who attended. During these sessions, we learned Bible verses and stories, we crafted things out of popsicle sticks and pipe cleaners that made us so proud, we learned the pledges of allegiance to the U.S. flag, the Christian flag, and the Bible, we learned the four notes on the piano that signified standing or sitting (I still hear them in my mind!), and we learned that the fabric of our lives is the Christian love that binds us all together. I am ever thankful for the Christian example given to me by the men and women of my community who guided us and loved us during these Bible School sessions. I will never forget them.
The church has hosted countless weddings, revival services, and fellowship meals through her history. Many of us that still attend were married at the old altar. Strains of "Revive Us Again" ring in my mind every time I hear the word "revival". Country cooking is the rule at all fellowship meals and I guarantee that the ladies ( and men) of the church can flat out cook! Great food and fellowship abounds every time.
March 8, 2015 is the date of the last services held in the old building. Then, as the old country boy says--"She's a'comin down"! The membership has voted to tear the old building down and rebuild on the same site. A modern structure that will be larger and more energy efficient will replace the old building. Although we are sad to see the old church torn down, we are also anxious to see it reborn in the form of a structure that should last for generations to come. The building that houses Beulah church will look much different, but the church--brothers and sisters in Christ, remain strong and dedicated to follow His will.
Many of us who still live here grew up in the church. As a child, the building was a wood frame structure with an auditorium filled with old wooden pews. Connected to the back were two stories of Sunday school rooms. There was no air conditioning. In the heat of the summer, two giant fans located on the front walls of the church pulled air through the structure. Gas heaters kept us warm in the winter. It didn't matter. People came to hear the Word preached by men of God who were willing and able to be heard over the noise of the fans and in the still of the winter.
There was no baptistry in the church. Baptisms were held in local ponds and creeks, or, in a bigger church located in an area town. There was something special about these events, and they are ingrained in our memories forever.
Every summer the church hosted a Vacation Bible School. In my youth, there were only two structures on the campus-- the church building and the parsonage. Between the two buildings there were some oak trees, some of which were close enough together that someone had nailed boards to them, making rudimentary tables. These became "refreshment" tables during Bible School, loaded with kool-aid and cookies for the children who attended. During these sessions, we learned Bible verses and stories, we crafted things out of popsicle sticks and pipe cleaners that made us so proud, we learned the pledges of allegiance to the U.S. flag, the Christian flag, and the Bible, we learned the four notes on the piano that signified standing or sitting (I still hear them in my mind!), and we learned that the fabric of our lives is the Christian love that binds us all together. I am ever thankful for the Christian example given to me by the men and women of my community who guided us and loved us during these Bible School sessions. I will never forget them.
The church has hosted countless weddings, revival services, and fellowship meals through her history. Many of us that still attend were married at the old altar. Strains of "Revive Us Again" ring in my mind every time I hear the word "revival". Country cooking is the rule at all fellowship meals and I guarantee that the ladies ( and men) of the church can flat out cook! Great food and fellowship abounds every time.
March 8, 2015 is the date of the last services held in the old building. Then, as the old country boy says--"She's a'comin down"! The membership has voted to tear the old building down and rebuild on the same site. A modern structure that will be larger and more energy efficient will replace the old building. Although we are sad to see the old church torn down, we are also anxious to see it reborn in the form of a structure that should last for generations to come. The building that houses Beulah church will look much different, but the church--brothers and sisters in Christ, remain strong and dedicated to follow His will.
Wednesday, December 31, 2014
Did You Hear?
It's come and gone again! Christmas for us is a lot different than it used to be. Our titles have changed from "Mama" and "Daddy" to "Nana" and "Papaw" and we are reconciled to the fact that we are no longer the integral part of our children's lives that we once were. They still call on us occasionally for this or that, we still see them once in a while, they still like Nana's cooking and always take the left overs home with them, and we know they still love us even though they really don't have time to be with us much.
I must admit that being a grandparent has a few perks. You can pick up grand kids most any time, keep them till they wear you out, then take them home to their parents! If some are far away, travel opportunities abound! They often confide in you things that they might not want to share with others..the list goes on.
I do not begrudge my children's status as joy bringers to my grandchildren. It is their rightful place just as it was ours with them, but one never forgets the wide-eyed excitement in the eyes of his children, the fun of picking their brains to determine what they wanted Santa to bring, the family dinners at various relatives' houses, the hustle and bustle of the holiday season, and just the general noise a big family makes when all are in the same house. We miss all of this terribly.
There is a saying that "What goes around comes around!". As it was when we first married, we had a quiet Christmas eve, not silent mind you, just quiet compared to years past when the house was filled with the sounds made by small children in anticipation of the big event on Christmas morning. Mama and Daddy (now Nana and Papaw) were just as excited for the pleasure of seeing the focus of their love, their children, happy, healthy, and thriving because of their effort to provide for them...the wonder of it all given by God Himself!!
Yes, it is now a quiet holiday season for us, but it will never be silent. The love of family resounds throughout the heavens and earth whether we are gathered together or separated far apart. We love our family...hear it loud and clear!
Happy New Year from the Old Coach's bunch....well...'bout half of 'em anyway!
I must admit that being a grandparent has a few perks. You can pick up grand kids most any time, keep them till they wear you out, then take them home to their parents! If some are far away, travel opportunities abound! They often confide in you things that they might not want to share with others..the list goes on.
I do not begrudge my children's status as joy bringers to my grandchildren. It is their rightful place just as it was ours with them, but one never forgets the wide-eyed excitement in the eyes of his children, the fun of picking their brains to determine what they wanted Santa to bring, the family dinners at various relatives' houses, the hustle and bustle of the holiday season, and just the general noise a big family makes when all are in the same house. We miss all of this terribly.
There is a saying that "What goes around comes around!". As it was when we first married, we had a quiet Christmas eve, not silent mind you, just quiet compared to years past when the house was filled with the sounds made by small children in anticipation of the big event on Christmas morning. Mama and Daddy (now Nana and Papaw) were just as excited for the pleasure of seeing the focus of their love, their children, happy, healthy, and thriving because of their effort to provide for them...the wonder of it all given by God Himself!!
Yes, it is now a quiet holiday season for us, but it will never be silent. The love of family resounds throughout the heavens and earth whether we are gathered together or separated far apart. We love our family...hear it loud and clear!
Happy New Year from the Old Coach's bunch....well...'bout half of 'em anyway!
Wednesday, December 24, 2014
The One that Haunts Me
Two very good high school teams had made it to the South State Championship game that year. We were fortunate to be one of them. That particular group of young men were exceptional in that along with being talented, they were also very coachable. We were downright undersized by today's standards, but every one of those kids had worked very hard in the weight room and had made themselves strong. I remember in one playoff game, we were taunted during warmups by the opposing team as being a " junior high" team because they were so much bigger than we were. Well..they WERE bigger, but, they found out that they weren't stronger! We whipped them that night on their own field...made them cry! This was the team we had that year, not overly talented in any area particularly, but, solid in all areas....enough so that we believed we could be state champions.
The team we faced that night was no different...we were outsized again, and this team had some very talented players. As a coaching staff, we had decided early on that we would not be out coached, and the plan we had for this game was the absolute best we could do. The guys executed it very well and with little time left in the game we were leading 7-0, but facing a punting situation. The ball was punted and rolled dead deep in our opponents territory.
Sometimes in spite of having the correct defense, an athlete can simply out maneuver the defenders and this happened late in this game. Somehow one of their athletes got loose and ran the ball through our defenders from around his own 20 yard line to inside our own 10 yard line. With time running out and a couple of plays later, they scored to make the score 7-6.
There may have been a few seconds left on the clock or maybe time had run out, either way, the extra point would be the play of the game, and, it is the one play that haunts me to this day. I don't know if the opposing coach knew how exhausted both teams were or if he had no confidence in his kicker, or what else went through his mind, but, he elected for a 2-point conversion. Once they lined up for the play we called time out to set our defense. From my vantage point on top of the press box, I relayed the formation and suggested that it would probably be a running play. Our defensive coach adjusted his 5-3 allinement, moving the linebackers up close and having the linemen close every gap inside.The plan was to make the ball carrier bounce to the outside where we had the advantage with speed and quickness. When the play was set, they lined up in a pro I formation with a slot to the left. They snapped the ball and ran a fullback lead toward right tackle....exactly what we expected. Our linemen did their job closing the guard and tackle gaps and our end took on and stuffed the fullback forcing the tailback to bounce outside. Our outside linebacker had read the flow perfectly and was able to square the ball carrier up...looked like game over! I don't know if what happened next was planned or just an act of desperation, but, the ball carrier while in the process of being driven back and tackled was able to twist so that his back was to the tackler allowing him to hoist the ball over his head and toward the end zone. There was a mad scramble of course and one of their linemen came up with the ball. The officials did not call the illegal forward pass nor incomplete forward pass, nor lineman down field....they let the play stand! I was flabbergasted as was everyone in the stadium who had eyes to see.
That one no-call cost us not only the South State championship, but probably the State Championship as well because the team that got by us dominated the north team the following week. We protested the call as much as we could, even sending film to the state association for review, but, to no avail.
A lot of things happened during my career as a player and coach, both good and not so good, but this is the one play that makes me feel disgusted every time I think of it. Those kids deserved to win, they played their hearts out!
The team we faced that night was no different...we were outsized again, and this team had some very talented players. As a coaching staff, we had decided early on that we would not be out coached, and the plan we had for this game was the absolute best we could do. The guys executed it very well and with little time left in the game we were leading 7-0, but facing a punting situation. The ball was punted and rolled dead deep in our opponents territory.
Sometimes in spite of having the correct defense, an athlete can simply out maneuver the defenders and this happened late in this game. Somehow one of their athletes got loose and ran the ball through our defenders from around his own 20 yard line to inside our own 10 yard line. With time running out and a couple of plays later, they scored to make the score 7-6.
There may have been a few seconds left on the clock or maybe time had run out, either way, the extra point would be the play of the game, and, it is the one play that haunts me to this day. I don't know if the opposing coach knew how exhausted both teams were or if he had no confidence in his kicker, or what else went through his mind, but, he elected for a 2-point conversion. Once they lined up for the play we called time out to set our defense. From my vantage point on top of the press box, I relayed the formation and suggested that it would probably be a running play. Our defensive coach adjusted his 5-3 allinement, moving the linebackers up close and having the linemen close every gap inside.The plan was to make the ball carrier bounce to the outside where we had the advantage with speed and quickness. When the play was set, they lined up in a pro I formation with a slot to the left. They snapped the ball and ran a fullback lead toward right tackle....exactly what we expected. Our linemen did their job closing the guard and tackle gaps and our end took on and stuffed the fullback forcing the tailback to bounce outside. Our outside linebacker had read the flow perfectly and was able to square the ball carrier up...looked like game over! I don't know if what happened next was planned or just an act of desperation, but, the ball carrier while in the process of being driven back and tackled was able to twist so that his back was to the tackler allowing him to hoist the ball over his head and toward the end zone. There was a mad scramble of course and one of their linemen came up with the ball. The officials did not call the illegal forward pass nor incomplete forward pass, nor lineman down field....they let the play stand! I was flabbergasted as was everyone in the stadium who had eyes to see.
That one no-call cost us not only the South State championship, but probably the State Championship as well because the team that got by us dominated the north team the following week. We protested the call as much as we could, even sending film to the state association for review, but, to no avail.
A lot of things happened during my career as a player and coach, both good and not so good, but this is the one play that makes me feel disgusted every time I think of it. Those kids deserved to win, they played their hearts out!
Tuesday, November 11, 2014
Thanksgiving ....my way of thinking!
It's the season to be thankful and I certainly am. This great country, family and friends, good health, and the good food are primary reasons to be thankful for most people, but along with these, I present the following things for which I am very thankful.
1) I am thankful that I live out in the sticks. I can often see deer or turkey out back of my house along with a group of resident squirrels that enjoy the hickory nut trees on the edge of the woods. In the springtime the smell of honeysuckle permeates the air with a fragrance like no other, and in the heat of the summer I enjoy working a garden and sitting on the porch late in the evening with my wife ( mostly listening to her account of the day). Hunting or fishing provides for much entertainment year round, so, I'll take the country living anytime.
2) At my age I am thankful that I still have teeth!...well most of them anyway. I have lost two or three over the years, each damaged playing football in my youth which contributed to their demise. Yesterday I chomped down on a bite of hamburger steak with a bone shaving in it and broke another of my enameled jewels...looks like it will have to go as well. I hate it, but, at least so far it doesn't hurt and I still have plenty left!
3) I am thankful for expressions of the south. Southerners say things to each other that only they can understand. Here are a few examples:
"Bless ye heart!".....an expression of sympathy, love, consideration, exclamation at circumstance
"Happy as": a) a pig in the sunshine, b) a duck in the water, c) a baby "knawin" on his first chicken
bone ( and many more).....blissfulness
"Like a mule staring at a new gate"....confusion, caution, hesitation
"A long row to hoe".... A difficult task...time consuming task..etc.
" treated like a red headed step child"... being ignored or put aside
"crazy like a fox"....presenting oneself dumber than he really is
" he's got rabbits in that briar patch"..... He needs a hair cut
" hotter than a $2 pistol.....reference to a pretty woman; reference to a sports team on a winning
streak or an individual player performing at a high level
"even a blind hog will find an acorn once in a while"....encouragement to persevere
"Old as Methusala".... Description of an elderly person
There are many, many more!
4) I am thankful for SEC football. This season has provided some great games and I really believe it's
the best conference in America. Certainly the conference winner and possibly a couple more
should play for the national championship this year...trouble is, by the end of the season all the
SEC teams are so beat up from playing each other, it might be difficult to beat a healthy Florida
State or Oregon team who has played a much lighter schedule!
5) I am thankful for the smells of the holidays and the sound of children playing. The aromas of the different foods cooking and the anticipation of the mouthwatering goodness along with the squeals of laughter coming from children having a good time provide a sense of contentment like none other!
6) I am thankful that I still sleep through the night. I seldom have to get up during the night and I wake up feeling rested and ready to meet the day.
7) I am thankful for new underwear...silly I guess, but true nonetheless! It didn't use to matter much as I was younger but now it's a wonderful feeling to put on a new pair of underwear that fits like it's supposed to fit...feels mighty good!
8) I am thankful for gas logs...a wonderful invention! I know how hard it is to heat a big house with firewood in open fireplaces or inserted wood heaters, and I know how expensive it is to run central heat. With one turn of a knob, I have instant heat, something you can back up to, the unit is thermostatically controlled, and the propane is affordable....a marvelous thing!
9) I am thankful for veterans. These men and women deserve the utmost admiration. My Dad and Uncles along with many others in our area served in World War II and Korea, many my age went to Vietnam, I have a son in law who has been to Afghanistan twice. Their valiant and heroic service has allowed me to live a most blessed life and I am very thankful for what they have done for me. God bless every one of them.
10) I am thankful for love...the love of God who sent His own Son to offer us eternal life, the love of Jesus who offered Himself a living sacrifice for us all, the love of the Holy Spirit who remains within us today to guide us through life, the love of my wife and children and their families...my legacy if you will...that comforts and sustains me, and the love of my Christian brothers and sisters who support and encourage me.
These are just ten things that I am thankful for. Some may seem odd to the reader, and I suppose they are, but, to a man like me, based on my life and experiences, they are truly reasons to be thankful. Happy Thanksgiving to everyone!
1) I am thankful that I live out in the sticks. I can often see deer or turkey out back of my house along with a group of resident squirrels that enjoy the hickory nut trees on the edge of the woods. In the springtime the smell of honeysuckle permeates the air with a fragrance like no other, and in the heat of the summer I enjoy working a garden and sitting on the porch late in the evening with my wife ( mostly listening to her account of the day). Hunting or fishing provides for much entertainment year round, so, I'll take the country living anytime.
2) At my age I am thankful that I still have teeth!...well most of them anyway. I have lost two or three over the years, each damaged playing football in my youth which contributed to their demise. Yesterday I chomped down on a bite of hamburger steak with a bone shaving in it and broke another of my enameled jewels...looks like it will have to go as well. I hate it, but, at least so far it doesn't hurt and I still have plenty left!
3) I am thankful for expressions of the south. Southerners say things to each other that only they can understand. Here are a few examples:
"Bless ye heart!".....an expression of sympathy, love, consideration, exclamation at circumstance
"Happy as": a) a pig in the sunshine, b) a duck in the water, c) a baby "knawin" on his first chicken
bone ( and many more).....blissfulness
"Like a mule staring at a new gate"....confusion, caution, hesitation
"A long row to hoe".... A difficult task...time consuming task..etc.
" treated like a red headed step child"... being ignored or put aside
"crazy like a fox"....presenting oneself dumber than he really is
" he's got rabbits in that briar patch"..... He needs a hair cut
" hotter than a $2 pistol.....reference to a pretty woman; reference to a sports team on a winning
streak or an individual player performing at a high level
"even a blind hog will find an acorn once in a while"....encouragement to persevere
"Old as Methusala".... Description of an elderly person
There are many, many more!
4) I am thankful for SEC football. This season has provided some great games and I really believe it's
the best conference in America. Certainly the conference winner and possibly a couple more
should play for the national championship this year...trouble is, by the end of the season all the
SEC teams are so beat up from playing each other, it might be difficult to beat a healthy Florida
State or Oregon team who has played a much lighter schedule!
5) I am thankful for the smells of the holidays and the sound of children playing. The aromas of the different foods cooking and the anticipation of the mouthwatering goodness along with the squeals of laughter coming from children having a good time provide a sense of contentment like none other!
6) I am thankful that I still sleep through the night. I seldom have to get up during the night and I wake up feeling rested and ready to meet the day.
7) I am thankful for new underwear...silly I guess, but true nonetheless! It didn't use to matter much as I was younger but now it's a wonderful feeling to put on a new pair of underwear that fits like it's supposed to fit...feels mighty good!
8) I am thankful for gas logs...a wonderful invention! I know how hard it is to heat a big house with firewood in open fireplaces or inserted wood heaters, and I know how expensive it is to run central heat. With one turn of a knob, I have instant heat, something you can back up to, the unit is thermostatically controlled, and the propane is affordable....a marvelous thing!
9) I am thankful for veterans. These men and women deserve the utmost admiration. My Dad and Uncles along with many others in our area served in World War II and Korea, many my age went to Vietnam, I have a son in law who has been to Afghanistan twice. Their valiant and heroic service has allowed me to live a most blessed life and I am very thankful for what they have done for me. God bless every one of them.
10) I am thankful for love...the love of God who sent His own Son to offer us eternal life, the love of Jesus who offered Himself a living sacrifice for us all, the love of the Holy Spirit who remains within us today to guide us through life, the love of my wife and children and their families...my legacy if you will...that comforts and sustains me, and the love of my Christian brothers and sisters who support and encourage me.
These are just ten things that I am thankful for. Some may seem odd to the reader, and I suppose they are, but, to a man like me, based on my life and experiences, they are truly reasons to be thankful. Happy Thanksgiving to everyone!
Wednesday, November 5, 2014
A typical day...Busy, busy, busy!
I am astonished at how much there is to do with my time now that I have retired. I honestly don't know how I got it all done while I was working.....guess I just let a lot of stuff go.(no reference to "Frozen" intended!)
Knowing that I have decent remodeling skills, my wife gently demanded that I rework her kitchen cabinets again. Of course I agreed and after a trip or two to the local building materials store for paints and new cabinet hardware, I was ready to begin. By today's standards, we have a small kitchen, but, that thing is full of cabinets that were hand made when I built my house back in the 70's. There are 24 doors and 9 drawers as well as the facings all coated with a dark wood stain. Over the past two weeks, I have removed, sanded, stain blocked, painted (2 coats), and replaced it all, and I must say...it looks pretty good!
Yesterday, Thinking I was about through and deserving a restful, fiddle around day, I had just settled into my chair when I hear, "We need to replace the contact paper on the shelves...I'm gonna run up to the dollar store and get some...be back in a little." I'm thinking this won't be too bad, just peel and stick..right?
The old paper comes right out, my wife uses it to cut the new paper then peels back about a foot of the slick paper. It's to be my job to hold one end while she " works" the sticky end into place...trouble is, the lower shelf is 4" off the floor! Hands and knees and backsides are the only way to go, so, down we go!
If you've never seen two 60+ year old people flopping around on the floor, well, just wait...you'll probably be there someday. We managed to get the shelf covered and then we looked at each other both thinking the same thing...how in the world are we going to get up? We both unfurl our legs and attempt to rise but we are both tall people and the space in the kitchen floor is tight, so, we knock each other around a little and then I say "time out...one at the time, me first!" I manage to get my knees under me and raise myself up, then I grab her hands and pull her up....flexibility is a fleeting thing for sure!
Today, I was putting the finishing touches on the cabinet doors when my cell phone rings. It is a fellow trustee of our church calling. A new commode was needed in the parsonage and he had it in his truck and he just wondered if I could maybe come down there and put it in. So here I go down to the church already sore as the devil from the previous day shelf paper extravaganza. Truthfully, putting in a new pot is a one-man job and I was the one man. My friend is a great organizer and facilitator, but, not much on actually doing the work...but...I knew this a forehand so, I begin to take out the old pot. Invariably, the nuts on the commode bolts will not come off easily, and I wind up on my knees with my head stuck down under the pot for nearly an hour before they finally come off. I then put the new commode together and set it up quickly ...no leaks!
While all this is taking place, my wife calls from her cousin's house and says " She's bought a new couch and she's giving me her old one and it's just what I've always wanted... Come get it!" I tell her what I'm doing and that I'll be on as soon as I can. I'm thinking " What's wrong with the couch we have? I wonder how heavy it is. What will we do with the one we have? How am I going to move it by myself?". Anyway, I go get the couch, load it in my truck, haul it home, back it up to the front porch steps, wrestle it out onto the porch then through the front door...whew!
Tonight as I write this post, I know tomorrow brings my annual wellness checkup at the doctor's office and probably a stint in Walmart. After that, who knows? In any case, I am very grateful that I am blessed with good health at my age and as happy as a pig in the sunshine to stay... " Busy, busy, busy!
Knowing that I have decent remodeling skills, my wife gently demanded that I rework her kitchen cabinets again. Of course I agreed and after a trip or two to the local building materials store for paints and new cabinet hardware, I was ready to begin. By today's standards, we have a small kitchen, but, that thing is full of cabinets that were hand made when I built my house back in the 70's. There are 24 doors and 9 drawers as well as the facings all coated with a dark wood stain. Over the past two weeks, I have removed, sanded, stain blocked, painted (2 coats), and replaced it all, and I must say...it looks pretty good!
Yesterday, Thinking I was about through and deserving a restful, fiddle around day, I had just settled into my chair when I hear, "We need to replace the contact paper on the shelves...I'm gonna run up to the dollar store and get some...be back in a little." I'm thinking this won't be too bad, just peel and stick..right?
The old paper comes right out, my wife uses it to cut the new paper then peels back about a foot of the slick paper. It's to be my job to hold one end while she " works" the sticky end into place...trouble is, the lower shelf is 4" off the floor! Hands and knees and backsides are the only way to go, so, down we go!
If you've never seen two 60+ year old people flopping around on the floor, well, just wait...you'll probably be there someday. We managed to get the shelf covered and then we looked at each other both thinking the same thing...how in the world are we going to get up? We both unfurl our legs and attempt to rise but we are both tall people and the space in the kitchen floor is tight, so, we knock each other around a little and then I say "time out...one at the time, me first!" I manage to get my knees under me and raise myself up, then I grab her hands and pull her up....flexibility is a fleeting thing for sure!
Today, I was putting the finishing touches on the cabinet doors when my cell phone rings. It is a fellow trustee of our church calling. A new commode was needed in the parsonage and he had it in his truck and he just wondered if I could maybe come down there and put it in. So here I go down to the church already sore as the devil from the previous day shelf paper extravaganza. Truthfully, putting in a new pot is a one-man job and I was the one man. My friend is a great organizer and facilitator, but, not much on actually doing the work...but...I knew this a forehand so, I begin to take out the old pot. Invariably, the nuts on the commode bolts will not come off easily, and I wind up on my knees with my head stuck down under the pot for nearly an hour before they finally come off. I then put the new commode together and set it up quickly ...no leaks!
While all this is taking place, my wife calls from her cousin's house and says " She's bought a new couch and she's giving me her old one and it's just what I've always wanted... Come get it!" I tell her what I'm doing and that I'll be on as soon as I can. I'm thinking " What's wrong with the couch we have? I wonder how heavy it is. What will we do with the one we have? How am I going to move it by myself?". Anyway, I go get the couch, load it in my truck, haul it home, back it up to the front porch steps, wrestle it out onto the porch then through the front door...whew!
Tonight as I write this post, I know tomorrow brings my annual wellness checkup at the doctor's office and probably a stint in Walmart. After that, who knows? In any case, I am very grateful that I am blessed with good health at my age and as happy as a pig in the sunshine to stay... " Busy, busy, busy!
Monday, September 29, 2014
"Aww, it don't matter."
"What do you want for supper?" she asked. "Aww..it don't matter." I said. Dang! All I meant was that I loved her and..I appreciated the fact that she was willing to cook for me and...I was trying to let her know that I would eat anything she wanted to fix and..she didn't have to go to a lot of trouble. It didn't go over with her that way...."Just tell me what you want and I'll fix it!", she exclaims and so, I start making suggestions.
I must admit that first thoughts in response to the question were steak and potatoes, or fish and hush puppies, with pies or cakes and ice cream and such...but..in reality I know better. I like plain food........ham sandwiches....butter beans, peas, cornbread, biscuits, potatoes, greens, or anything out of the freezer..and she can make any of it taste really good.
I have found that "It don't matter" is not a good response for other questions as well. "Do you like this outfit or this one?" Best not answer "It don't matter."... even though you mean " you look good in either one.", she reads that answer as you don't like me in either. "Do you want to go out or stay at home?" ....to her "It don't matter." automatically means stay at home. You get the idea.
Communication in any relationship is very important and sometimes it requires reading between the lines. Most men like me are not well schooled in this ability. We make our remarks without thinking about feelings. This often gets us into trouble!
I guess it's just a gender thing mostly. When menfolk say "it don't matter", it usually doesn't and they are giving the lady the choice. Women read it differently apparently. Make the choice ladies! We're just happy as a baby gnawing on his first chicken bone that you put up with us, so...what do I want for supper?........"Aww....it don't matter!".
I must admit that first thoughts in response to the question were steak and potatoes, or fish and hush puppies, with pies or cakes and ice cream and such...but..in reality I know better. I like plain food........ham sandwiches....butter beans, peas, cornbread, biscuits, potatoes, greens, or anything out of the freezer..and she can make any of it taste really good.
I have found that "It don't matter" is not a good response for other questions as well. "Do you like this outfit or this one?" Best not answer "It don't matter."... even though you mean " you look good in either one.", she reads that answer as you don't like me in either. "Do you want to go out or stay at home?" ....to her "It don't matter." automatically means stay at home. You get the idea.
Communication in any relationship is very important and sometimes it requires reading between the lines. Most men like me are not well schooled in this ability. We make our remarks without thinking about feelings. This often gets us into trouble!
I guess it's just a gender thing mostly. When menfolk say "it don't matter", it usually doesn't and they are giving the lady the choice. Women read it differently apparently. Make the choice ladies! We're just happy as a baby gnawing on his first chicken bone that you put up with us, so...what do I want for supper?........"Aww....it don't matter!".
Tuesday, September 16, 2014
C'mon Mikey! Let's play ball!
My brother and I are not quite two years apart. My youngest brother was born during my twelfth year on this earth. Both are fine, upstanding, Christian men and I'm proud to have them as brothers.
For those first twelve years, it was " me and Mikey" (Mike-ee), and you would'nt see one of us without the other. Being the older, very early on I was ordered to "look after" Mikey. To me, that meant I could order him around some, make decisions for the both of us, and get him to ask our parents for permission to do something.
Early on we both took an interest in sports through Little League baseball, but it played out fairly quickly that I had the much greater interest. I loved sports, especially baseball, and I wanted very badly to be good at the game. I would start early in the morning begging Mikey to play ball with me out in the yard. I think he knew what he was doing when he would say "Naa...I don't want to". I'd use every ounce of reasoning ability an eight or nine year old boy could muster. Bribery was out of the question for neither of us had anything much to call our on, so, I'd beg and beg, pester and plead until finally...he'd say "Ah-ite, but I get to bat first!".
Finally, the game was on. I always had to set up the bases and hunt up the bat, ball and gloves. A two man baseball game was a bit difficult to play. Out of necessity, we used imaginary runners, boundaries in the field for singles, doubles, triples, and home runs. If the player in the field could get to a bag before the batter could get to first, he could force out an imaginary runner, etc..
The game would begin with me in the field and Mikey at bat. I would run myself to death nearly, trying to get him out so that I could bat. At last, the third out!....then I'd look up and see Mikey cackle out loud, throw the bat down and run for the house as hard as he could! That would do it for me every time! I would light in after him with brotherly thoughts of murder on my mind and when I did catch him, I'd fist him on the shoulder, get him down and hold him, threaten him to an inch of his life, or, all of the above! I'd not have much to do with him for a day or two, but much like Charlie Brown trying to kick the football knowing that Lucy is going to pull it away, I would soon start begging him again.
You might think I never got to bat...well, I did bat sometimes, and on the times he'd quit and run, after I reckoned with him, I'd go get my stick bat and bat rocks...hey!...if you want something bad, you'll figure out something!
I'll never forget those times, and, all in all, it helped me to become a player good enough to pay most of my way through college and enable me to have a successful coaching career, so, Mikey did me a great favor every time we played, even the times he'd quit and run!.... Thanks Mikey!
For those first twelve years, it was " me and Mikey" (Mike-ee), and you would'nt see one of us without the other. Being the older, very early on I was ordered to "look after" Mikey. To me, that meant I could order him around some, make decisions for the both of us, and get him to ask our parents for permission to do something.
Early on we both took an interest in sports through Little League baseball, but it played out fairly quickly that I had the much greater interest. I loved sports, especially baseball, and I wanted very badly to be good at the game. I would start early in the morning begging Mikey to play ball with me out in the yard. I think he knew what he was doing when he would say "Naa...I don't want to". I'd use every ounce of reasoning ability an eight or nine year old boy could muster. Bribery was out of the question for neither of us had anything much to call our on, so, I'd beg and beg, pester and plead until finally...he'd say "Ah-ite, but I get to bat first!".
Finally, the game was on. I always had to set up the bases and hunt up the bat, ball and gloves. A two man baseball game was a bit difficult to play. Out of necessity, we used imaginary runners, boundaries in the field for singles, doubles, triples, and home runs. If the player in the field could get to a bag before the batter could get to first, he could force out an imaginary runner, etc..
The game would begin with me in the field and Mikey at bat. I would run myself to death nearly, trying to get him out so that I could bat. At last, the third out!....then I'd look up and see Mikey cackle out loud, throw the bat down and run for the house as hard as he could! That would do it for me every time! I would light in after him with brotherly thoughts of murder on my mind and when I did catch him, I'd fist him on the shoulder, get him down and hold him, threaten him to an inch of his life, or, all of the above! I'd not have much to do with him for a day or two, but much like Charlie Brown trying to kick the football knowing that Lucy is going to pull it away, I would soon start begging him again.
You might think I never got to bat...well, I did bat sometimes, and on the times he'd quit and run, after I reckoned with him, I'd go get my stick bat and bat rocks...hey!...if you want something bad, you'll figure out something!
I'll never forget those times, and, all in all, it helped me to become a player good enough to pay most of my way through college and enable me to have a successful coaching career, so, Mikey did me a great favor every time we played, even the times he'd quit and run!.... Thanks Mikey!
Thursday, August 28, 2014
Teach Your Children
My wife and I have been watching the TV series Once Upon a Time by Netflix DVD rental. I really like watching TV this way as there are no commercials. I'm spoiled. The show is full of fairy tale characters and it is interesting how the writers have intertwined the characters of the different fairy tales to make a progressing story line on the series.
So far, we've seen Snow White, Prince Charming, the dwarfs, and the evil Queen, Jiminy Cricket, Pinochio, Rumplestiltskin, Captain Hook, Peter Pan, Belle, Frankenstein, Ariel, Mr. Shmee, Robin Hood, Tinkerbell, and now the Wicked Witch and flying monkeys from Oz.
We are now at the point where we try to guess who the next character introduced into the show will be. In the current season, the Wicked Witch is the meanie. My wife keeps asking, "Why don't they just throw some water on her and melt her?". I say, " Maybe they want to bring Dorothy in to do it.". Sure enough, Dorothy shows up, dashes water on the Wicked Witch and melts her down! (Doesn't put an end to her though, guess she plays the evil too good).
I don't think today's kids know nursery rhymes and fairy tales very well. Whatever they do know comes from an iPad or computer and that's sad to me. They have heard of some of the characters, but, they don't know the stories very well, so, I'm afraid that eventually, this method of parent to children interaction will be lost, along with part of the way parents communicate to their children that they want them to grow up to be "good" rather than "evil". The TV programs and computer games that they watch and play make the difference between good and evil a bit of a gray area. I mean, from what I've seen, the hero/ heroine contributes about as much to the violence and mayhem as the villain!
I realize that the world changes with every generation, but, that change is controlled to a great extent by the people living in that time, and if the difference between good and evil is a gray area, what will life be like? Teach your kids the difference! Take them to church, talk to them, let them know you want them to be good people, tell them fairy tales and nursery rhymes...be a parent! They will love it and you will too!
So far, we've seen Snow White, Prince Charming, the dwarfs, and the evil Queen, Jiminy Cricket, Pinochio, Rumplestiltskin, Captain Hook, Peter Pan, Belle, Frankenstein, Ariel, Mr. Shmee, Robin Hood, Tinkerbell, and now the Wicked Witch and flying monkeys from Oz.
We are now at the point where we try to guess who the next character introduced into the show will be. In the current season, the Wicked Witch is the meanie. My wife keeps asking, "Why don't they just throw some water on her and melt her?". I say, " Maybe they want to bring Dorothy in to do it.". Sure enough, Dorothy shows up, dashes water on the Wicked Witch and melts her down! (Doesn't put an end to her though, guess she plays the evil too good).
I don't think today's kids know nursery rhymes and fairy tales very well. Whatever they do know comes from an iPad or computer and that's sad to me. They have heard of some of the characters, but, they don't know the stories very well, so, I'm afraid that eventually, this method of parent to children interaction will be lost, along with part of the way parents communicate to their children that they want them to grow up to be "good" rather than "evil". The TV programs and computer games that they watch and play make the difference between good and evil a bit of a gray area. I mean, from what I've seen, the hero/ heroine contributes about as much to the violence and mayhem as the villain!
I realize that the world changes with every generation, but, that change is controlled to a great extent by the people living in that time, and if the difference between good and evil is a gray area, what will life be like? Teach your kids the difference! Take them to church, talk to them, let them know you want them to be good people, tell them fairy tales and nursery rhymes...be a parent! They will love it and you will too!
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