Things to be Proud of...

I retired from an organization that had "Proud Ones" as part of the seal that the organization used. It was on the patches of the uniforms as well as both doors of the company vehicles. Those of us that worked for the service had to put up with a lot of ribbing from others in the same business because of it. I soon come to realize that that slogan affected everything I did while I was at work. I tried as hard as possible to maintain a level of professionalism and to do the best job I could. That saying even followed me home and I tried to always live up to being able to say I'm proud of the things I have done.

Today I'm proud of a lot of things. The one I'm going to talk about a little today is my grandson, Brandon. This young man has grown into a man in the last year. He graduated from high school, much to a lot of surprise from a few folks, a couple of years ago and has since grown a little. He lives on his own and he takes care of his debts like no other 20 year old I know. He has stayed close to his parents, his Mom, my daughter, has come to depend on him for just about everything. He gets along well with both of his sisters, has a girlfriend and he has a job. He knew he was not that interested in college when he graduated, yet now two years later and having had a taste of responsibility he is ready to go back to school.

I have watched this young man, grow from bumbling school boy to responsible adult and the one word I have other than love for him is that I'm PROUD of him. He will do almost anything he sets himself up to do. This week he is in Florida, a first time fly away vacation on his own. He is fishing near Fort Lauderdale with a high school friend and has spent the week sending me pictures of the fish he has been catching. Like the ones above. As a matter of fact he has sent me several pictures of the fish. He has caught both fresh and salt water species, he texted me at 6:30 this morning to tell me he was on his way to sword fish, and he has no qualms about rubbing it in that he is catching fish and I'm not. He takes after me, he is paying me back for all the photo's I have sent him this year. Pay back is a bear......

It would not surprise me if he does not decide to stay in Florida. He likes the warm weather, he would have a job on a fishing boat with advancement to his own boat a real possibility and he loves to fish. I'm not sure how I feel about him living that far away. I know I would support him in his efforts, I also know I will be in Florida a lot.

Of course I am proud of all of my children and grandchildren. One of the things My Judy and I had to get used too was not being the center of our grand kids world. Oh we were when they were under 1o years old. Once they got out into the world of school and other friends we took a back seat and it was a lot of fun to do other things. Going to G-mas house was not top on the list of things to do. Now that they are getting to be older, they are in the process of coming back. Brandon comes as often as work will allow, Tara has been down once this summerby herself, as has Erika and Joey. Sophie would live down here if it was not for school and if her mom would move with her. The big difference is they are more equal to us than when we had to constantly watch out for bloody knees. They listen and they talk, they have interesting things to say and they are a true joy to spend time with.

I have always told people that the only reason we go through the pain of raising children is so we can have grand children. I really know this to be one of the truths of the universe. Be patient parents your time will come, grandchildren allow you to get even with every thing your child has done to you. Yes you can wind your grand children up and then send them home. You can buy them gifts at Christmas time, ones that require a lot of "slot a into hole b" or made in China and has to be assembled with a three inch allen wrench. You never have to say NO, and its always a party and Grandmas house. Then if your really lucky, they grow up like Brandon, Tara, Erika, Joey and Sophie and they come back to be your friend and and a person your proud of.

Thanks...

I feel this is a good time to let everyone know how much I appreciate your book orders and the response I have received about the story line of the book. I've said it before and I really mean it it is great to know that readers like the book as well as want to read the second book in the series which has a working title of "Missouri Sunrise". In this book young Joe grows into one of the first Missouri Mule Traders and encounters several adventures as he does. Most of the characters in the first book are in the second, along with a host of new ones that should keep your interest. The book is finished except for the editing. My Judy is doing that for me and I've heard her laugh as well as caught her with tears in her eyes more than once. So please be patient and the second installment will be along soon.
One of the questions I've been asked is about bears in Missouri. The questions I have been asked varied from Where there bears in Missouri back then to are there bears in Missouri today. Are they Grizzly bears, brown bears or black bears. Where do they live, what do the eat, do they sleep all winter? The answers to these questions in some cases are pretty obvious. The television news carries every bear story they can get, bears have been sited all over Southwest Missouri. Not only in southwest Missouri, they have been sited as far east as Eureka, Mo. and as far south as Kennet Missouri in the south east corner of the state. Most of them are black bears, they are basically night creatures, however daytime sitings are not uncommon. One recent call to the Stone County Sheriff's office came in just in the evening time. A lady near Crane, Missouri called to say there was a bear in her driveway. After a few more minutes she decided that it really was a great thing and that she really did not want the Sheriff's Office to make an issue. After all its not everyone that has their own bear in the driveway.
My Judy wants to see a live bear so bad she dreams about it in her sleep.This past spring it was rumored that there was one being seen on Hwy 13 just south of DD, she became a moving traffic hazard for several weeks trying to get a glimpse of the creature. MY biggest worry about bears in our neighborhood is that I will see one when she is not with me and I will not be able to tell anyone because she would feel cheated. On a fishing trip into Canada one year I had to take her to a local dump just to see one. She is that committed to seeing one in the wild here in Missouri. So, if anyone has a bear story to share post me a comment. If not, get a copy of my book Missouri Beginnings and read about my spirit bear.

Cooperation....New Adventures

My Judy and I will celebrate 23 years of marriage in a few weeks, We have been through a lot together, some of it good and some of it not so good, however through it all we have gotten closer and stronger. Back about 24 years ago while we were dating we agreed to try new experiences together. So, I agreed to do something with her I had never done before, like go to a live musical presentation of Evita, and she agreed to do something with me, that she had never done before like, float the river and fish.
I went to Evita first.....It was a great presentation of the story of Argentina's First Lady during the second world war. I enjoyed some of it, and when I was caught not enjoying it a gentle nudge was all it took to stop the snoring. We had a great evening out, and I was exposed to some class that prior to that evening I had never endured. The next week was my turn, I arranged a 6 mile float on the upper Meramec River in Crawford county near the town of Leasberg. I decided that it would be a much nicer float if we rented a paddle jon type boat. This flat bottomed craft is tapered at both ends to make it easier to paddle and steer. I made it better by attaching a trolling motor to the stern and that way my darling new girlfriend could just sit in the front of the boat, catch some rays, relax and look beautiful. We arrived at the outfitter at the appointed time. Loaded our fishing gear and coolers into the back of a pickup truck that was new when Harry Truman took office, sat on the seat filled with old burlap bags so the springs would not pinch so hard and had to hold or feet up because the gravel road was visible through the spot where the floor should have been. We got to the put in point, wrestled the paddle jon from its rack, I mounted the trolling motor to the boat, carried the battery and made sure all was in working order. I placed the cooler and tackle in the boat and placed the cushion for my fair maiden in the bow. With a slight nudge from our friendly truck driver we were off, The day was one of those rare summer days when the temperature was not too hot and there was no humidity. The river was running with plenty of water and the fishing report was excellent.
The dust had not settled from our outfitter leaving us when the small brown water snake swam towards the front of the boat. It was at that precise moment I learned the first thing,it became apparent that my Venus was deathly afraid of the possibility there might be a snake in the immediate 25 mile radius, much less right in front of the boat. It was at this same moment in time that I witnessed sure terror for the first time. I know what it looks like. Furthermore it is very easy to recognise. Its a full grown woman running full speed toward you in a 12 foot paddle jon. I immediately reacted to this situation, my suburb training in handling emergencies came into play. I assessed the situation, took in all of the information and deduced that A: If said attractive lady continued to run un-check through the paddle jon that there was a very good possibility that I would end up in the water. B: The snake was in the water. ( I myself are not terribly fond of the critters) C:Stop the woman! So I did the only thing that made sense to me by yelling at the very top pf my voice, so I could be heard over the screeching noise that sounded something like S....N...A....K....E! SIT DOWN!!!
It was at this time that I learned the second thing about my future bride, she did not like to be yelled at for any reason.
Dear readers, it usually takes 7-8 hours to properly float and fish this 6 mile stretch of the river. I'd done it numerous times so I knew. On that day we almost beat the outfitter back to the parking lot. That day the trolling motor never came off high and the only sound heard from the time of my unfortunate thought process, was the splashing of the water and its accompanying noise as we walked the paddle jon through riffles in the river.
She has never floated with me again........

H-Bird one to H-Bird Leader.....

Judy and I are lucky enough to have a deck on the back of our place. On the deck we have several hanging baskets of flowers and one hummingbird feeder. For those of you that remember a few days ago I bloged about a fight between the red wasp and the hummingbird. That battle is repeated every so often and I stay out of it as long as the "dog fight" leaves me alone. Last evening Judy and I were enjoying the end of a great Schooner Creek day and watched while a group of hummingbirds tried to feed at the feeder. Notice that I said tried. It seems that the males of the species are bullies. Yes, they are the worlds smallest bullies. weighing in at about two ounces these fierce creatures guard the feeder with all of the force and aggression of a mama grizzly. They sit out in the trees until an unsuspecting intruder tries to get a taste then from out of the sun like a WWII Japanese Zero they attack. The sound of clacking beaks as well as bumping bodies fill the air with squeaks, twitters and chirps as the male drives off the other bird only to return to the protection of the trees to await another intruder. Look closely at the lower right side of the feeder in the photo above and you will see the little Corsair.(WWII American fighter) last night we watched the "dog-fight" until they retired at dark.

Just before good an dark we seen a male red fox in all of its red glory run across the back yard. its really nice living on Schooner Creek.

This morning I got up poured myself a cup of coffee and went out to watch the sun come up. I was sitting there when I heard the hum of an approaching hummingbird, he flew to the feeder hung there with out sitting on it and then flew away. I checked the feeder and realized that there was no food left in it. Last night after dark when we came in it was 1/2 full. Then I seen the little foot prints, we had a visitor from Ricky Raccoon last night. That little creature drank almost a pint of sugared water. I hope his sugar high keeps him awake all day long!

aerial combat with out the smoke!

Here he sits, like a king over his domain. This male Hummingbird gards the feeder like the United States Air Force guards our shores. When another hummingbird comes near the feeder he leaves his post like a "Branch to Feeder Missle" flying into the unsuspecting encroachers with force enough to knock them sideways and the bump of thier bodies sounds like a sumo wrestler throwing an opponet to the matt.

Hey Guess what....ITS Friday!

I know some of you out there in Blog land just knew I was going to forget that it was Friday again this week. HA! I did not forget, I remembered all on my own. Its been a busy week here on Schooner Creek. We've had some heavy rain, almost 3 inches, some lightning and a little thunder. Today its absolutely perfect. Temperatures in the low eighty's, humidity is low and there is a nice breeze out of the north. The weather guys have announced with some certainty that there will be no rain. I've been busy doing some foot work for book signings and the way it looks now is there will be one here near Branson and another over in Houston. I'm negotiating for a small space in Branson Mills where my books will be displayed. The first response I've gotten about the book has been more than favorable. My Captain read it, his granddaughter read it and now his wife is reading it. Captain says its one of the better books he has ever read and his granddaughter wants me to release the second one now! All that have let me know, have had a positive response. That makes me feel good. Its nice to know that somebody besides my Judy likes it. It also makes the reviews a little better than ....Mikes Dad says its the best book he has ever read, or Mikes Mom says it will be a great movie, Mikes cousin says it could not be put down, made me want to read it all at one time." Captain did complain that he feel asleep reading it, his wife left him there in his chair, he woke up with a stiff neck and was late to work. I've place my second order for more books. Those of you that have ordered one, I should have them back out to you by the end of the week, for those of you that have yet to order one you'd better get your check to me, they are going pretty fast.
If your going camping this weekend you've got a great trip ahead of you. If your staying home it would be a great weekend for grilling outside, spending some time in theyard, playing with the kids and leaving work.....at work.
I haven't heard much on the fishing report. According to the paper last week crappie were biting near Kimberling City, they were hitting minnows, down about 15-18 feet in the tree tops. You could not prove it by me. Lake level is at 916 +/-, surface temperature is at 82 degrees. The water has some stain to it due to recent heavy rains.

Old time things and by gone years

Things that are considered antiques are things my parents used every day. I know what its like to sit on a milk pail that was used to store milk. I can churn butter in a paddle churn. I've picked up chips from my Dads axe as he split wood for the wood burning stove in my Grandma A's kitchen. I have ridden in a wagon pulled by a team of horses driven by my Grandfather A and every chance I get I look at and read about any old tool that was used around a farm in the late 1800's and up to the common use of a tractor in the 1940's. On the old farm, there was horse drawn mowing machines and hay rakes.

There was even a plow that you sat on instead of walked behind as well as a scoop shovel used for scooping out water holes or making a pond. There was most likely over a thousand ways a boy of 8 or 10 could get himself hurt by just being on the old farm. That's why my Grandpa A and my Dad always had something for me to do besides investigate the farm machinery. One of those things was; I was taught to make a Leprechaun's pipe. Now we all know what a Leprechaun is, they are the 'little people" that live in the twilight of the evening, or mist of the early dawn. They keep an eye out for those of us with a wee bit of the Irish in us and they occasionally preform acts of mischief such as moving that tool your using, or letting the air out of a tire as the car sits in your driveway. We have all heard the story about the pot of gold at the end of a rainbow these wee people are there to protect. My guess is every time we see a rainbow that pot of gold thought goes through our mind.

Any way, Leprechaun's have to make their pipes. So they use what they can. Acorns, for the bowls and reeds for the stems. My Grandpa A, who was a bent stem pipe smoker, taught me how to make a Leprechaun's pipe. First you have to find just the right acorn. One that is not all dried out, broken or gnawed on by a squirrel. It has to have a cap. The best kind of Acorn is a white oak acorn, they are usually bigger than one from a post oak. However a post oak acorn will do in a pinch. Once you've got the perfect acorn then you have to find a reed. Now reeds did not grow on trees in Texas County so, Grandpa said it would be alright if we used a small twig. Twigs did grow on trees and they were everywhere.

Once shown I was determined to learn to do it, and the trick is not splitting the acorn as you got it ready, or make the hole to big to hold the stick. I had hours of sitting under the big shade tree in my Grandparents front yard, my tongue held firmly between my teeth as I concentrated on getting the job done just as I was shown. My eight year old hands did not work as well as MY Gram pa's, there was still a "short" between them and my brain. I went through a whole bunch of acorns before I finally accomplished getting all the meat out of the shell without tearing up the shell. Then a whole lot more learning to bore the hole just right to fit the twig I found. Finally I accomplished it and I was one happy little boy. I ran to my Grandpa, my pipe clenched firmly in my teeth with a smile from ear to ear, Grandpa smiled, and declared, Nancy ( my Grandma), there is a Leprechaun in the living room!

Take the top off the acorn by gently pushing it up. Under that cap is the soft center of the nut. Use your knife blade to gently remove the nut meat from the shell. Sometimes a wooden tooth pick helps pick it out. Try not to enlarge the hole any bigger that the round center of the nut. Keep in mind that you do not eat the nut meat of an acorn. Its bitter and will give you one heck of a belly ache.

Take your knife, and gently twist the point against the side of the acorn until you have a hole. Make sure to insure that the hole is not bigger than the twig.

The finished product, The Leprechaun's pipe. Simply put the small stick in the hole you gently bore through the side of the acorn.

I'm in no way trying to promote smoking. In my day as a kid growing up smoking was not considered that big a deal, in some circles it was a right of passage from boy to man. Stupid as that may have been.

Today's cows

My hours have changed at work and I'm driving by the cow pasture before daylight now. Today, on my way home, I got a chance to see them in full daylight. It was about 5:20pm when I drove past and it was not the first heard of cows I'd noticed. Every herd, whether it had two cows or twenty cows were laying down. They seemed to be enjoying themselves just watching the traffic go by and chewing on their cuds. Now most of us know what a cud is. Its food that a cow brings up from its stomach to re-chew. Its part of their digesting process. Gross it may be, its just part of the process that goes into making a cow a cow.
Cows laying down is no big deal. Most of them will graze, also known as eat grass, during the day and then they will go to water. If they are being fed by the farmer, then everyday about feeding time they will go to where the farmer is feeding them, stand around waiting until he gets there. Some of them will be impatient and moo, others will just stand and swish flies. Cows are creatures of habit. I find myself wanting to know all I can about these leather bound US Grade A delights.
Years ago on cattle drives from south Texas, Cowboys knew that they had to get them gathered, keep them together long enough to get to know one another, then drive them hard for a day or two to get the idea that they were going some where else in their heads. Then it was just a matter of pointing them in the right direction, usually behind an old cow that like to see new country, until they were driven right into the stockyard at trails end. Just after the Civil War there were thousands of unbranded cattle called mavericks, running loose in the mesquite of south Texas. They were wild, huge animals, sometimes weighing twice what a horse did and had horns that span over six feet. These were the Texas Longhorn's . These cows had evolved into creatures that needed little water as well as feed. They could survive eating cactus, mesquite beans and small trees. Most were mean, had little desire to be herded into large groups and had no respect for man or horse. They learned to fear the rope and found that it was easier to go along than have a foot tied up off the ground and made to walk several miles that way. It was not uncommon for a Cowboy to loose a horse when a horn was forced through its side or worse yet, a cowboy go down by being gored. As I drive by my herd I try to imagine what it would have been like forcing 25000 of these beasts 800 to 1200 miles across country I've never seen to the railroads in Missouri and Kansas. I cannot help but wonder if I have what it took to be one of the men that accomplished this task so that thousands of people in the East could have beef at the local butcher shop. I've read accounts of men starving while on a cattle drive instead of eating one of their own cows. By today's standards that seems crazy, 150 years ago, it was money, much needed Yankee money so that families could survive.
Today, my herd of butter colored hornless cows were a little of everything, some were laying down, some were standing, one was standing in a pond belly deep. In other words they were just cows.

its Sunday, What happened to Friday?

I was well on my way to work this morning when I realized that I had missed saying anything about last Friday. I really hate it when I get interested in following something and ....WHAT...where did it go. So I will try to back up two days and talk a little about Friday.....
Lets see it was nice, and it was hot and I......heck what is the use I'm lucky if I remember what I had for dinner last night much less what happened two days ago.
So lets talk about Sunday. It was nice and it was hot and....I had to work, got off on time, had a great dinner, took Judy for an ice cream, took a short drive by the lake and noticed that there was very little activity out on the water. Just about then I noticed tears in my Judy's eyes and I immediately wondered if I had mindlessly said the wrong thing, or forgot an important event in our 22 years that happened on August 16th, the tears were running down her cheeks when I finally got the nerve to ask, "Honey, what is wrong?" The answer was a surprise, almost to much of one because the relief of me not being responsible for the water works was so great that I had to immediately stifle a giggle of belly injuring proportions. " The kids are returning to school, this is a terrible week, it always has been, I hate going back to school time." My loving wife went on to tell how she hated seeing the grand kids return to school because she knew that our chances of seeing them anymore this summer were really reduced. I thought that it meant that we would not have to contend with so many jet skies, or idiots low on gas and full of beer coming into the cove to get gas at the marina.
According to Judy it has always been a sad time cause when our kids were growing up she always missed them so bad when they got on the bus. Me I was thinking that I was relieved when they got on the bus, that meant I had time to clean the boat, fix my tangled fishing gear and get the tackle box ready for the fall bite. Judy said she would mope around looking from room to room wishing they were home so she could play with them. Me I knew I would wander from room to room looking for my plastic worms, missing tools and everything else small boys can procure from my car, workshop and boat. She said she would cry cause she missed them so bad, I'll admit I cried a little too when I discovered that they had used my $25.00 spool of spider wire line to cut up into strings for pony bead bracelets and necklaces, or when that package of one of a kind, catch a lot of bass, worms was left on the window sill and they had melted together. Or the tool kit with all of metric sockets missing turned up in the back yard, I found them as the mower spit them into the neighbors yard. Lets not forget the hammer with the mud caked around it and rusted, the saw with the bent blade and my personal favorite, the blade that was bent on the pocket knife I had carried as a kid. Yes tears rolled down my cheeks as I thought of these things and about that time the big yellow bus went past us going the other way....Sorry Judy, the Lord designed back to school time in order to preserve the human race.

Back to the norm.....

Today I'll get back to writing about things that are important instead of life on the stage. I'll have to admit that getting up in front of all those folks was so far out of my comfort zone that it will take a week or more for me to feel like myself. Its good to be uncomfortable once in a while. It keeps us from become to absorbed with ourselves.

A few days ago I mentioned that my Dad had been waging a one man war against the raccoons of Putnam County. The masked bandits had continued to make havoc in his corn patch. If you will remember I explained about the impulse fence, and what happens when something touches it. ZAP! On my recent trip I learned that my brother, Kevin, had become an expert in talking my nephew, Matt, into making sure the fence was still working. Dad explained that Kevin would begin by just asking Matt to touch it, then he would go on to say things like, " Matt, Grandpa wants to know if the fence works on the other side of the corn patch, why don't you go and touch it to make sure." or " Matt, them coons is getting into the patch on the road side, can you check and make sure the fence is on?" Matt would eventually grit his teeth and touch the wire. ZAP!, Dad says you could hear Kevin laugh all over the farm. Matt would just shake his head and say,
"I'm sure glad I can entertain him."
While visiting them last week I got the chance to see his one man war. Along about dark the first night I was there I seen him sneak out of the house carrying a small Styrofoam dish. In the dish was a small serving of dry gourmet dog food, my sister-in-law, Patty, feeds her boxers. He climbed on the four wheeler, and slowly putt-putted off towards the corn patch. That was the night that I caught the big bass and several others. The next morning my father comes into the kitchen and announces that it was time to check the trap. Now, one must understand that my Dad has had some issues with skin cancer on his face and my mother makes him wear a hat when he is outside working in the garden or mowing grass. So he has a Cami cowboy hat. He bought this hat down in Florida at a flea market. Now the other thing you need to know is, Dad just does not like to wear long pants. He lives in Florida all winter, wears shorts everyday. He does not come back to Missouri until its warm enough to wear shorts and he goes back to Florida about the time that long pants are a good idea in northern Missouri. The last thing is that since he always works in the garden after he checks his coon trap, he is wearing his garden boots. Now if it was 1957 these boots would be called boon dockers. The only thing they are missing is the two white round spots on the bottom of the soles. These garden boots are worn with no socks, because he has been fussed at by Mom for ruining his socks when the dirt from the garden gets in over the top and he walks it into the fabric to the point they will not come clean. Finally, the instrument he uses to send the trapped coons to the large cornfield in the sky is a .22 caliber pistol which he carries in a holster. he climbs onto the trusty four wheeler much like Matt Dillion climbed up on his horse Buck, then with a flip of a switch and a mighty Putt-putt-putt he is off to the corn patch. Mom then stands by the door and waits, after a few minutes the crack of a discharged .22 or the lack of it, determines the "He got another one" or "No coon last night" Another day on the farm has begun.

Outside of the box....

Today I'm going to change direction. Last night Judy and I were asked to accompany close friends, Bob and Deb, to dinner in Branson. We attended the Golden Corral Theater, which is inside the Golden Corral Restaurant on Shepard of the Hills Parkway in Branson. The entertainer there is Allen Edwards. Mr. Edwards has been singing in Branson for 16 years. Judy and I have seen quite a few of the Branson shows and Mr Edwards was one of the very best. He sings songs from Nate King Cole, Eddie Arnold, George Straight and Jim Reeves. He does them with style. His voice is smooth and easy to listen to. Just before the show started, while Buddy Bob was away from the table, I was approached and asked to participate in the show. Normally, I would have declined. However, for what ever reason that entered my mind, I heard myself say sure, I'll do it. When the lady walked away I got up from my chair, and looked around for myself. After all I never volunteer, nor do I like being on stage for any reason where I'm not in control. Buddy Bob was unaware of what was going to happen......

Midway through the show two waitresses wearing police hats came and escorted me away. Buddy Bob was shocked to see me go, I guess he just never seen me as someone that would go willingly with waitresses wearing police hats. I was soon returned wearing "stripes" and introduced to the 200 plus people attending the show. Mr. Edwards is a retired police officer from Texas, he had a ball at my expense. He introduced me and asked what I did for a living. I told him and he asked me if I liked the outfit. We had a few laughs and I ad libbed the straight man for him and finally boogied like a 16 year old to Jail House Rock. before being allowed to return the suit. It was a great time and I was way outside my comfort zone, Buddy Bob was amazed and my wife Judy called me a natural. I had a good time. It felt good.

Another story from the past.....

My Dad taught me how to hunt. His methods of firearms safety would not be accepted in some circles today, however they were effective. To this day I cannot pick up a firearm without first determining the safe direction to point it, and then pointing it that way. I never assume a firearm is unloaded. I also have no qualms about telling it's owner if I don't have any idea what kind of weapon it is. His values and rules were ingrained in me over forty years ago.

One of my favorite things was squirrel hunting. The best time for us to go was in the early fall, usually just as the trees were turning. We would be up before dawn, Granny would fix us a breakfast of eggs, bacon, fried taters, biscuits and gravy. We would get in the car and drive a short distance to the old farm, and very quietly ease out of the car, get our guns from the trunk, load them, check for safe, and work our way into the woods. By this time the sky would be light enough to see shapes so not walking into trees was easy, seeing spider webs was not. There is nothing like walking face first into a full spider web to make one spit and think bad thoughts about spiders.
Dad had his favorite place to sit. In was in a small grove of hickory trees with a few old oaks spattered in. He would sit me down on against a big tree and having been there before I knew where I could shoot. Dad would then walk on down the little draw to his tree, he sat on the opposite side of his tree so there was two tree trunks between us. When thinking about it today I wonder if that was for my safety or his? Then we waited. If you are quiet enough in the woods, as the sun comes up you can hear all kinds of things. It usually gets coldest just before the sun comes up, birds that roam the night like owls may sound off a time or two before they go to sleep for the day, and day time birds like crows begin to fly and caw to each other as they look for breakfast. Cattle can be heard for miles on one of these mornings, as well as every rooster in the county. All of the little forest critters come to life with in seconds of it being light enough to see. Sometimes you might hear a turkey cluck, even a gobble once in a while. The sound of a doe bleating, or a buck snorting all at the same time like some musical arrangement is exciting. The smell of fall leaves and the feeling of the crisp air all add to the experience. It seems that as it gets lighter the squirrels begin to move. They like to eat hickory nuts and acorns. I very seldom took very long to have a couple in the game pouch which meant fried squirrel fir dinner . Once the sun came up good, Dad would come back and we would spend the next few hours walking as quietly as possible looking into the trees looking for the little patch of gray fur , or the flip of a red squirrel tail. It was during this time that Dad would teach me the difference between a post oak and a white oak. I would also be instructed on just what the best use of the tree was. White oaks are known for their flooring as well as making stave's for barrels. That was easy for a 12 year old to remember, barrels were used for aging whiskey. I didn't know much about what whiskey was then, I just knew cowboys drank it on TV.

As I blogged earlier, the old farm belongs to another family now, Someone "clear cut" the trees so now its just pasture. None of the old trees were I sat are there. I shot my first squirrel there, my first frogs, quail, as well as my first deer. My wife explained to me, things have to change to make the memories better. I can only agree.

Got it on a farm pond....

I'm back. Yes friends and neighbors I have returned safe and sound and will try in the next few lines to pass on some of the really nice things about farm living. The first thing is that most farms have at least one pond. Ponds are nice, they provide drinking water for horses, cattle and every other creature that drinks water from other than a tap. They provide a source of moisture for plants, they are a food source for ducks, muskrats and cranes. AND they have fish. In the case of my brother's farm pond, big fish! The one at the left was almost full grown, at over 5 lbs. I caught over twenty fish, on anything that I tied on in two evenings of fishing. It was good for the soul as well as my ego. I fish mostly on Tablerock lake, I catch lots of fish there, but not like the old farm pond fishing,

Growing up and running the farms of Texas County in the summer I learned to fish on farm ponds. My brother Barry, a country companion named Leroy and I would become the absolute terrors of every farm pond we had permission to fish. From the time we were told we were going to "Grandma's" Barry and I would plan, discuss strategy and map out how we would sneak up on each pond. One of the finer points of farm pond fishing, learned from the old pond fisherman Leroy, was you could not just walk up to a pond, you had to sneak. We would approach a pond in the same manner a police SWAT team would take down a suspect. Slowly on hands and knees, peeking over the dam until all of the water was mentally cataloged. Then slowly, with baited hook, stand until you could cast. Then quick as a flash, line tossed over the waters with the slightest splash as the bobber sat down on the surface. Then WAM, the bobber goes down, the hook is set and the fight is on.

Miles would be walked dragging tackle boxes and sometimes the biggest stringer of bluegill and "line-side bass" you ever saw. At days end the fish would be cleaned, scaled, and the heads and tails would be removed. The fish would be dropped into the frying pan. My Grandma Holder would cook anything her grandsons carried home from squirrels to frogs to small perch. She was great. Granny made no complaints and we all ate with satisfied smiles of grandeur.

I use a lot of things other than " little green grasshoppers" for bait today. On my recent trip I caught fish on poppers, buzz-baits, plastic worms and spinner-baits. With every cast a memory of a by-gone catch on one of the many small ponds we fished as a kid would surface. It has been said you can never go back, poppy-cock, you might not get younger, but with farm pond fishing you always get a do over.

its a good day...

Yeap, that's what I said to myself this morning. It's a good day. I am trying to adapt to the mindset that any day that you can wake up, see the green side of things, is going to be a good day. Its up to me to keep it that way or let in circle as it goes down the toilet. Today is going to be a good day.

I'm off this morning to visit my parents in north central Missouri. They live on a farm 20 or so miles north of Kirksville, Mo. in the summer time. My Dad, in his mid-70's still gets out every morning and does a full day's work of gardening, mowing grass, tending to chickens as well as anything my Mom wants him to do. His biggest challenge this time of year is keeping the raccoons out of the corn patch. He has spent a lot of time trying to accomplish this goal. He has the corn patch surrounded by a high tech electric fence. Its not the normal "trickle fence" that a lot of us are familiar with, its an impulse fence. In other words it hangs on its posts all day long with no juice in it, then if something touches it, a charge of atomic proportions surges through the wire to the poor unsuspecting creature. It is not fatal, it simply zaps you with a jolt. Its hilarious unless its you being zapped, then its just slightly amusing until the numbness wears off. My Dad also has regressed to the time and true method of trapping them, raccoons are plentiful, they are a lot like rabbits in that sense. There is a dangerous overpopulation of the critters on the farm. Local Conservation folks say its because they have no natural predators. They will strip a row of corn every night, they kill every little chicken they can catch. House cats and small dogs are not safe and with over crowding rabies becomes an issue. So yes, when they are trapped they are....sent to the big corn field in the sky. The problem in doing this is the buggers are smart. They learned how to by pass the fence and the traps are effective in moments of lapsed memory on the raccoons part. So my Dad is ever vigilant and thinking of new ways to protect his corn.
Look out coons, reinforcements are on the way.

My Judy cannot go with me and I'm not real happy about that. She has insisted that I go and explained to me that she is very OK with me being gone. She kissed me goodbye this morning saying she would miss me. it is good to be missed. I'm still at home writing this and I miss her.

So, anyway, I will be absent for a couple of days. When I get back I hope to have a few stories to share and some pictures to post. Did I tell you that the farm has two ponds with very large bass.......

Now that my hands have quit cramping...

48 hours after the carnage of putting together the patio furniture my hands have quit cramping. I can stand the touch of my trousers on my knees and although I have yet to forgive the Chinese, I no longer curse them under my breath. I'm on to other projects. First I would like to thank the folks that have let me know they have received their book as well as how much they are enjoying it. My Department Head informed me this morning that he was late for work due to staying up reading the book. He explained that he fell asleep in the chair and woke up still in his chair, in the wee hours of the morning with a stiff neck. Again thanks to all of you, you words of encouragement mean a lot.

Today was a short day for me, as most of you that read this blog know I work a 4 day, 40 hour week. Most of the time Wednesdays are my Fridays. My wife, who I think felt just a little guilt, took me to the Gateway Cafe in Spokane, Mo. for dinner. This little country restaurant is right on Highway 13/160 in Spokane, Mo. It is one of those restaurants where you can still get fried chicken, that's what I had and it is more than good. To top off a really great meal my Judy had a piece of coconut creme pie that she scarfed with so much as a "you want a bite sweetie" comment. ( So much for guilt) Folks it is a highly recommended stop if your hungry on your way to the lake.

After a really fine meal we took a drive, Judy and I like to do that, we took in the views and vistas along Hwy 176 west from Hwy13 then drove through downtown Crane, Mo. Again, something worth doing, once. Fisherman be advised, if your quilter wife wants to see if there are any quilt shops in Crane its OK, there are none. After a few trips around the block to be sure a shop was not overlooked we headed south. Once we got back in Reeds Spring, Mo a stop at the 'Home of the Twist" ice cream shop was in order. It was good ice cream, not as good as Twist and Shake in Houston, but pretty good just the same.

A side trip down Hwy Y just out of Reeds Spring off Hwy 76 west took us to Hideaway Marina. The Original Marina on Tablerock lake, established in 1956. Then back to the house.
It was a great afternoon, I recommend every "old" married couple take one once in a while.

Chinese evens or May the Oriential bird of Paradise..

My loving wife has been saving all summer to get some patio furniture. She has scrimped, saved, done with out until it hurt. Yesterday she had enough to pull the trigger and buy the set. She called me at work, caught me in the middle of one of the busiest days of the week and ask me if it would be OK to buy the set. In my very simple and uneducated mind she told me that all of it was reduced in price for summer clearance and that it would really look great on the deck. Being busy and always in a mood to let my wife have everything she asks for, ( I learned that its not a good idea to tell an Irish Cherokee, no.) I said "go, ahead honey I know you really have been working on that and if you don't get it now it may sell out and you will miss your chance."
I was rewarded with an " I love you ". It nice to have someone say "I love you " when your up to your ears in alligators. I had the nagging thought for just an instant, How is she going to get ALL THAT furniture home in that Durango. The thought was small and before it hatched into a full blown question, the phone rang and I was off solving another world crisis. I worked two hours overtime yesterday, my excuse for not adding any life changing / altering information to this blog. Anyway on with the story, I was driving home, listening to some Brad Paisley singing about fishing when that little thought about the furniture getting home resurfaced into a full blown question, followed by an immediate I'll bet I have to put it together. I did what anyone would do in my position with a cell phone and called her. She answered just after she had used all of that help and a two ton crane to get that box, (see photo below), into the back of her Durango. I immediately zoned in on her labored breathing and like a hawk swooping in on a sparrow, I stated " I have to put that together." Being very agile, she recovered her breath and said, "Oh... just a little, I'll help you, should take more that a few minutes. Maybe we can go fishing when its done." Man I knew it was going to be bad.

It was worse than bad, I snuck up on the Durango, very stealthily opened the back hatch, there in front of me was a shipping label written in something other than English. Thinking I had an out, as I glanced towards my fishing rods, she said " Don't let that bother you, I have a friend that speaks Spanish if we need to call her." I was had. Stick a fork in me cause I'm done.

I had to open the crate inside the car and unload the box, one piece at a time. One of the first things I seen was the little tool pictured to the right. It was an 'Allen" style tool about three inches long and 1/8 th of an inch in diameter. It has five sides. It took me less than 30 seconds to realize that somewhere in China ans you read this blog is a group of Chinese workers laughing over cold adult Chinese beverages, making fun of the dumb Americans putting together the furniture with that little hand tool. They are more than likely saying adult adjectives of a nature not suitable for mixed company and small children as they hold their hands in imitations cramped positions. They are getting down on their knees, then their bottoms with their knees trying to hold the imaginary pieces together so they can get the very small screws started with a tool that fits the top of the screw... almost.

Being of sound mind, for to upset the little lady is not in the realm of the real world, I fussed, muttered, worked the cramps from my hands and rubbed the sore knees until the finished product was completed. See the bottom photo.

It was worth it, my wife is happy, the furniture looks great and I earned enough "atta-boy" points to cover my next two aw-shucks.

Well...

Now just so I'm making myself really clear, all of the furniture you see in the next photo down was in this box. Judy had the help of three men, four woman and a small child to get it in the car. ( Not really just a couple of co-workers) My darling wife expect me, an old man with issues to just pull it out of the Durango and carry it into the house. If you look real close you can see the handles of our trash cart sticking out on the left side of the box. This cart is three feet wide. Four feet long and three feet deep. It would have rolled into the box. Now according to the box there were two chairs, a love seat and a glass topped coffee table inside.

Chinese evens.....

This is the finished project. two chairs a love seat and the glass table were in that box. It looks really good and it sits really nice. Its some really comfortable furniture. I did not teach my wife any new words during the time we put it together. I did have several unkind thoughts about the Chinese that put the parts together and if we ever meet in the here after I believe I will have to be well armed with lots of ammunition. I did curse not only the generation that put these parts into that big ole box, I went on to include the past generations as well as all future generations.

I need your thoughts

I recently discovered that posting a comment here about something I've written about is not the easiest thing one can do. I think I have corrected the issue. Just click the comment button below, then select profile anonymous, you will then have to copy the "anti-spammer" word and your comment will be posted. Feed back is important because its the only way I know if what I have to say is making anyone think. Its also the way I can get ideas for more blog's. You'd think that a "published author" like myself , ( golly -gee its still hard to believe) would have plenty to say and to write about, I don't.

Right now the fish are not biting. It will be 6 more weeks or so before they start again for the fall bite. The best bite this time of year is just before daylight. I work at that time of day right now so other than my days off, I don't get out much. Judy likes to get out and with her work being so demanding right now she is worn out by the time she home. So what I'm asking is if you want to know something about the Tablerock Lake area, or an event in Branson, if you need information on where to stay, or what to do while you are here just ask via the comments section below.

Thanks to all of you that visit my site, I really appreciate your stopping by.

Did you know

While I was out and about yesterday marketing my book I had the pleasure of discussing the history of the Great State of Missouri a little with other folks as interested as I am. Missouri is a very diversified state. Our discussion started with the Lewis and Clark Expedition. I was surprised to learn that a lot of folks are under the impression that when those two took off the find the ocean that Missouri was a wilderness. Unoccupied by white men and uncharted. Poppy-cock. The French had lived along the Missouri River and the Spanish before them. Explorers like the Daniel Boone Family had established settlements such as Defiance in St. Charles County and Boonsville in central Missouri. one of the Boone's settled on a place just north of Springfield, Mo. Lewis and Clark didn't run into much wilderness until they got up north a little and ran into the Mandan Indians. A tribe that had members with red hair and blue eyes. Missouri was a pi vital state during the Civil War. one of the largest battles was fought at Wilson's Creek, however there were still almost 200 battles fought inside the sate boundaries. Missouri was a Border State, however most feelings were strongly southern in thinking. The major cites such as St. Louis, Rolla and Springfield were of course Union held. There was a prison for women in St. Louis and Rolla whose husbands, brothers and beaus were fighting or reportedly fighting for the south. It was a time of extremes. Missouri had a lot of positive things going for it as well, it was the starting point for the short lived Pony Express, the Missouri Mule, was bred here and that animal became famous on the Santa Fee Trail. The Santa Fee Trail began here, up near a town called Franklin on the Missouri River. The first cattle drives from Texas ended at Sedalia. The first Bridge, Eads Bridge was completed across the Mississippi River in the 1870's. Outlaws such as Jesse and Frank James called Missouri home. In southwest Missouri a group of vigilantes, known as the Baldknobbers were feared. World War Two ended on the deck of the Battleship Missouri in Tokoyo Harbor. My book, Missouri Beginnings, begins and the next two books will further tell the story of the Holder's. as they settle in the Ozarks. The history I tell about through the story really happened as well as some of the characters like Kit Carson really lived here, where I say they did. Pick up a copy from Amazon or through Barnes and Noble and begin the journey with the Holders.