The End of the Year

The end of anything, especially a year, is a good time for reflection, so here are some Random Thoughts.

It was a good year to remember the past...how I found my lovely wife, how my family grew, how it is still growing, how I miss distant friends and family, and how I really dislike cats most of the time. :)

It was a good year for watching Violet grow and seeing the Athens branch of the family move to a new home. I had my doubts when I first saw Old Haggard, but on reflection, it was a good move. My prayers for a wonderful future in the old house are constant for Jon, Missy, and Violet.

It was a good year for growing closer to all of my children. Events have led to closer relationships with Bob and his family, Sandy and her wonderful bunch of guys, Gretchen and her mystery guest, and, of course, Jon and his crew. Closer is good.

It was a good year to re-discover a new hobby. I really enjoy hanging out at the range. More closeness with my sons and son-in-law is a good byproduct. The guys at the range are good folks, too.

It was a good year to reinforce my suspicion of cats. Gizmo and Gracie are a constant source of puzzlement. Maybe I give cats too much credit for intelligence, but I cannot help but wonder what makes them tick.

It was a good year to see the extended family and a good chunk of America. My three weeks in the Jeep traveling to Ohio, Michigan, Montana, and Missouri were exceptional for the places, people, and friends I saw along the way. Thank you all for being part of my life.

It was a good year for almost everything I attempted. I am truly blessed.

It was a good year to reflect on the things I learned from my father. He would have been 88 today. Thanks, Dad, you made me the man I am. You're missed on a daily basis.

It was a good year to look forward to more time with family and friends.

I hope 2009 will be as good for you as 2008 was for me.

Home, Home on the Range

Warning: Gun Stuff follows.

The post-Christmas cleanup was just about over, and Bob had a new pistol that he really wanted to shoot, so I invited him to join Jon and myself for our Friday-during-the-lunch-hour session at the Firing Lane. In keeping with my theory that "if some is good, and more is better, then too much is just enough", I invited Slade to join us, too.

As with most things I try to organize, it got bigger than I expected. Bob invited Jerry, who had never shot his Glock, and Kevin, who also had a .40 that needed exercise.

I brought my .45 SW1911, .45 Colt Uberti Cattleman, the H&R Sportsman, and the Ciener .22 conversion for the 1911. Jon brought his Ruger 22/45, Bob his FNP-45, and Slade his PT1911 and a really nifty modified Ruger 22/45.

We took turns shooting everything in turn, and soon were about ankle deep in spent brass, shredded targets, and empty cartridge boxes. Between all the guns we probably put over 1,000 bullets into the sand at the end of the three lanes we had assigned.

The hit of the day had to be Slade's .22 Ruger. It had an aluminum upper and a (legal) suppressor on it. The loudest sound from the thing was the noise of the bolt clanking back and forth. Pretty cool.

To say that a good time was had by all might be a bit of an understatement.

Sunday, I was back. Sandy and Slade had given me a gift certificate to rent a "machine gun", so I gave Slade a call and arranged to meet him at 2:00 PM. On the way, I got a call saying Slade had been called to do something with the Sheriff's Office, and he would have to work. I went anyway, and shot up a couple of hundred rounds of .45 ACP. As I was leaving the semi-soundproofed part of the range, I saw Slade in the lobby. His work had gone quickly.

Not being one to turn my back on good fortune, we went to the counter and got checked out on the H&K MP-5, picked up a couple of Osama bin Ladin targets and 3 boxes of 9mm ammo. Back in the range area, we settled into my lane, and started loading the magazine. In the lane to my right, a young man was trying to teach his wife/girlfriend to shoot. We sort of interrupted his instruction when the MP-5 threw a stream of spent 9mm brass over the partition between lanes.

By the time Slade and I had finished with the 3 boxes of ammo, we were performing for about a dozen people. Nobody left the range with a frown on their face.

I think the next time, I'll rent the M-3 Grease Gun. :)

Christmas Is For Children...

...and there were a bunch of them at our house on Christmas Eve. The pictures are of the newest member of our extended family, the Christmas tree with about 50% of the loot on display, and "The Older Children".

Marilyn and "the world's oldest 12-year old" (that would be me) were host to Bob, Laura, Sara, Slade, Sandy, Tyler, Sam, Gretchen, Jon, Missy, and Violet. Marilyn did her usual great job of cooking ham, hash brown casserole, green beans, and an assortment of snacks and desserts that would put me in the hospital if I ate them on a regular basis.

There were gifts galore, and everyone had a great time spreading wrapping paper around the lower levels of the house. My wonderful wife gave me a couple of beautiful sports jackets, I gave her a pair of diamond and sapphire earrings, but the hit gift of the night must have been Violet's red car.

There must have been 50 miles put on the thing doing laps of the front hall, living room, dining room, and kitchen.

It was a good time, and I want to thank all of you for being my family.

To quote Peter Pan, "I won't grow up!" It would ruin Christmas, and I'm not ready for that.

Be well.

For Unto Us

Luke 2

The Birth of Jesus

1In those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world. 2(This was the first census that took place while Quirinius was governor of Syria.) 3And everyone went to his own town to register.
4So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David. 5He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child. 6While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, 7and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.

The Shepherds and the Angels

8And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. 9An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. 10But the angel said to them, "Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. 11Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ[a] the Lord. 12This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger."
13Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying,
14"Glory to God in the highest,
and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests."

15When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, "Let's go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about."

16So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger. 17When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, 18and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them. 19But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart. 20The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things they had heard and seen, which were just as they had been told.

NIV

**************************************************************************

God Bless Us, Every One. - Charles Dickens

**************************************************************************

In the rush to get all the presents wrapped, cookies baked, and hams cooked we often forget the real gift we celebrate at Christmas. I just want to remind every one who reads this that Christ was, is, and will always be the greatest gift ever given.

Wishing everyone a Merry, Christ filled, Christmas from The Road Less Traveled.

The Day The Cat Stood Still

It's been an interesting morning, so far. I awoke to a dream of being in a "magic fingers" bed. It was actually Wally chasing some critter in his fur at the foot of the bed. After a cup of coffee, I turned on the TV to one of the old movie channels, and was met by Jill St.John in pink stretch pants and red boots running from alligators with fins and horns glued to them. It was the 736th remake of "The Lost World".

While I was watching red-dyed oatmeal and dry ice (lava) consume a subterranean cave, I made the mistake of hanging my hand out of the recliner. Gracie attacked. One minute, I was watching a really bad movie, the next I was trying to pry 4 pounds of needle sharp claws off of my hand. The kitten plays rough.

Right now, on the TV, Michael Rennie and Gort are trying to convince the people of the world to just get along. More power to them.

Judging from the sounds coming from upstairs, "somebody" would appreciate it if I get off my butt and start getting ready for the hoard on Christmas Eve, so I'll let you all go for now.

Catu barada nikto.

Christmas Cake

Compliments of my friend Candace, who is currently freezing somewhere in rural Indiana.

Once again this holiday, I have had requests for my tequila Christmas cake so here goes:

1 cup sugar
1 tsp. baking powder
1 cup water
1 tsp. salt
1 cup brown sugar
Lemon juice
4 large eggs
Nuts
1 bottle tequila
2 cups dried fruit

Sample the tequila to check quality
Take a large bowl, check the tequila again to be sure it is of the highest quality.
Repeat.
Turn on the electric mixer. Beat one cup of butter in a large fluffy bowl. Add 1 teaspoon of sugar. Beat again.
At this point, it is best to make sure the tequila is sstill OK. Try another cup just in case.
Turn off the mixerer thingy.
Break 2 legs and add to the bowl and chuck iin the cup of dried fruit.
Pick the fruit up off the floor.
Mix on the turner.
If the fried druit getas stuck in the beaterers, just pry it loose with a drewscriver.
Sample the tequila to test for tonsisticity.
Next, sift 2 cups of salt, or something.
Check the tequila.
Now shift the lemon juice and strain your nuts.
Add one table.
Add a spoon of sugar, or somefink. Whatever you can find.
Greash the oven.
Turn the cake tin 360 degrees and try not to fall over.
Don't forget to beat off the turner
Finally, throw the bowl through the window.
Finish the tequila and wipe the counter with the cat.
Cherry Christmas

Oh Christmas Cat, Oh Christmas Cat...

I am convinced that God put me on this planet to provide toys for my wife's cats.

Gracie has discovered the Christmas tree. I'm sure that the living ornament will be depressed when we take the thing down.

Stay well.

Not Bad for a Thursday

Yesterday was a fairly good Thursday.

The weather, unlike most of the country, was warm, if mostly cloudy, and my work day was short. I left early because my youngest son was being honored at his place of work as Employee of the Year.

The hospital where he is a department manager has 4 categories where they make the EOTY award on an annual basis. Jon was nominated in 3 of the 4 categories. According to his boss, they wanted to give him at least 2 of the awards, but had to pick other people for those categories. I guess they didn't want to retire the trophy.

I always knew Jon was an over-achiever. Despite the fact that he makes me look like a slacker [ :-) ], I'm very proud of him.

Congratulations, Jon, you've earned every bit of it and your Mom and I could not be more pleased for you.

Keep up the good work.

Happy Birthday Mom

I hope it's a great one.

Love you much.

And Happy Birthday Pablo, too.

A Few Notes on Sunday

It was a good one. Lots of family, felines, food, and fun.

Marilyn got jerked around a little by her work. She was scheduled to go in at 0800, but got called while she was getting ready, and wound up on call. At 1100 the call came in, and she put on her blue scrubs and did the mad dash to the hospital. About 2 minutes after she left, the third call from the hospital arrived: "Never mind, we don't really need you." So she left work, and went shopping. :)

While all of this was going on, I was wandering around Wal-Mart looking for necessary stuff. I brought it all home, and decided to take a nap. Dreary Sunday afternoons are good for something, after all.

Nap over, it was time to get cleaned up a little and go to the Christmas Musical at Bob and Laura's church. Laura sang, Sara was an angel. Actually, Sara was a Lead Angel. This gave her wings, and a halo. The plebeian angels just had white robes with gauzy stuff flowing behind. Bob was a wise (too many opportunities here) man. He looks good in purple, white, and sequins. :)

Church music has changed since I was a kid. Back in the middle ages, we had pipe organs, pianos and trumpets and flutes on Easter Sunday. The choir sang Bach and Handel. It takes a bit of mental re-threading for me to get into a church with electric guitars and drums where I thought there was supposed to be an altar. The one thing that both of these churches have in common is genuine praise. I've sensed the Spirit in every place I've been where people gather to worship.

He was certainly present last night. The music was wonderful, the kids performed with an innocent enthusiasm that was a joy to behold, and the congregation shared their enthusiasm.

Marilyn and I sat with Laura's Mom, and were soon joined by Jon, Missy, and Violet. Vi spent the hour that they were there walking across laps to visit with M and myself. She was into the music, dancing and clapping with the best of them.

A high point, for me, of the service was the "Cardboard Testaments" where various members of the congregation had written what their life was like before coming to faith one one side of a square of cardboard, and how it had changed afterward on the other side. I was awed by some of these simple statements of faith and the evidence of the power of God to change people's lives. I was especially touched by Laura's. It made me glad she chose us for her in-laws.

It was a good time, and good for me to have been there.

Crimma Prents...

...Or Christmas Presents, if your name isn't Ozzy.

There have been numerous complaints over the years that Marilyn and I are hard to buy for. The gripe is something along the lines of: "If Dad (or Mom) needs something, he goes out and buys it, and anything that I might give him won't express how I really feel."

Well, I'll let you in on a little secret. I do buy what I think I need, and I know how you feel, and am awed by it.

It really does not matter to me what the gift is if it's given in a spirit of love. I can only recall one gift in 60 Christmases that I thought was done out of necessity ("I've got to give him something, so I'll give him this!") rather than out of desire to please. (Stop worrying, it didn't come from any of you. :) ) Any gift at all is sure to be well thought out by the giver and appreciated well beyond what it cost by the recipient.

So kids, when I say "It doesn't matter" when you ask what I want for Christmas, know that I'm not blowing you off. It really does not matter to me, because I know that you all love Mom and I, and we love you and are glad that you're all part of our lives.

It may be frustrating, but that's the way it is.

The Weekend

It was a good one.

Friday I met Marilyn, Missy, and Violet for a great lunch at Cracker Barrel in Athens. I was about 15 minutes early, so I just bummed around the store for a while. I've come to the conclusion that Cracker Barrel has two things that I can appreciate: all of the old stuff in the ceiling and walls, and the food. The store has little to hold my attention.

When the girls arrived, Vi was asleep. She slept on my shoulder until the food came, woke up happy, and proceeded to engage in her favorite activity...eating. For being only 14 months old, that girl can pack away some groceries. Still, she's right where she should be weight-wise, so I guess it's all good.

After lunch, I visited my favorite place, and blew up about 100 rounds of .45 ACP, 50 of .45 Colt, and a couple of hundred rounds of .22 LR. I'm improving. Most of the shots went where I wanted them to go.

Following the range, it was home to sit with Sara, the Queen of the Known Universe, until her parents got off work. We had a nice visit, and she worked on her "I will not forget my homework" sentences that her Dad had assigned following a bout of voluntary amnesia.

Saturday dawned, gray and cold, so I bummed around the garage for a while, and discovered 4 nearly completed knives that I had started on about 3 years ago and set aside. A little sanding, polishing, and a couple of coats of Tru-Oil later, they had a nifty, durable finish on the handles, and I have 4 more projects. Now I get to make sheaths.

Sunday was a good day, too. Marilyn had worked until 0-dark-thirty this morning, and slept in, so I took advantage of the peace and quiet and read for a while. When Marilyn put in an appearance, and we had spent plenty of time telling all the animals that we still loved them, we went out for a late lunch at the new IHOP here in town. From there, we went to Lowe's and picked up a new, improved, Christmas tree, a Rosemary wreath, and a partridge in a pear tree. On the way home, we hit the Publix, picked up some groceries, and got home in time to cook supper, which should be done in a few minutes.

I hope y'all had just as good of a weekend as I did. I got do do a lot of things I like to do, see a lot of people who make me really glad to be alive, and spend some time with my wife. What more could a man ask for?

Like I've said before, I'm blessed.

With Apolgies to Trisha Yearwood...Or How I Met My Wife

Trisha Yearwood's latest, Grammy nominated album is "Heaven, Heartache, and the Power of Love", a phrase that pretty well sums up the last 40 or so years of my life.

In the fall of 1967, I was attending a small junior college in a smaller town in the Midwest. One of the highlights of life in that town was the annual Fall Festival, a kind of County Fair/Oktoberfest held in September when the weather was still decent enough to be on the street without a parka after dark. Since there was a) little traffic, and b) no place to set up a midway, the main street of the town was blocked off and sprouted carnival rides, food vendors, craft displays, and a stage for the country music performers.

My roommate and I decided that, being Friday, and seeing that we were tired of watching mildew grow on the grout in the dormitory bathroom, we would see what was happening downtown (a 3 minute walk from the dorm). (I told you it was a small town). We wandered around for a while, and he met up with a girl he knew. Marilyn was with her, and was the most beautiful young woman I had ever seen. The fact that she found the skinny, bespectacled, nerd that I was (and probably still am) interesting was icing on the cake. I was immediately smitten. I still am, and always will be.

So, you see, Marilyn and I are probably the only people you will ever meet who can say that they ran into the love of their life in the middle of Main Street...on foot. :)

Somehow, 42 years have passed, filled with triumphs, tragedies, gains, losses, children and grandchildren. Every event has been a blessing that has caused us to grow, but the one constant has been Marilyn and our love for each other. I don't want to contemplate life without her. This Summer, we will celebrate our 40th anniversary, and I'm planning on at least 20 more.

Marilyn, I love you, and always will. You make life worth living.

Bob

Darned Global Warming!

As I sit here at the beginning of December, it is 32 F outside (should be in the mid 50s), and -459.67 F here in the house. I am cold...absolutely cold.

I don't know whether it is that I'm trying to get a cold, or if the 45 pounds I dropped under threat of great bodily harm has slowed my metabolism to the point where I can't generate enough heat to keep myself from freezing.

Regardless, I am a Global Warming Skeptic. I do not believe that carbon dioxide is a pollutant, or that the activities of man can have more than a local effect on the weather. (I'm thinking of a LOD campfire.) I do not believe that Oil is bad. I do not believe that we all have to drive dinky little cars and live like third world serfs to save the planet.

What I do believe is that if there is a climate problem, there will be a concerted effort to correct it without "help" from our "exalted leaders" in that swamp between Maryland and Virginia. I believe that the motivation of a free market will create opportunities to solve the problem at a profit, and the market will find a way to solve whatever is wrong. If there is a demand for something, some entrepreneur will find a way to supply it without some corrupt politicians telling him how to build his solution.

I believe that we can correct our errors. I have seen it. I grew up in Cleveland, Ohio when the Cuyahoga River was prone to catch fire. I remember having to be in the suburbs to tell that the sky was blue. I remember the landfill that is now Burke Lakefront Airport as a smoldering dump. I remember smokestacks belching black carbon where Cleveland Electric Illuminating generated electricity right next to that dump. I remember only carp in Lake Erie where walleye, bass, trout, and salmon now thrive.

All of that is gone, partly because people cared enough to do something about it. Unfortunately, the agency set up to make sure we no longer fouled the nest and the movement that spawned it, have become home to some of the most raving anti-capitalist whackos that the world has ever seen.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not anti-earth. I'm a conservationist at heart, and love the wild places in our country with a passion that is hard to describe. I feel closer to our Creator in the back country than anywhere else, and work with several organizations to preserve it. I am, also, pro-progress and pro-civilization. I like technology, and the benefits it brings to us. I would not leave the house without my cell phone. When I travel, my laptop travels, too. But there are some in the environmental movement that would have us dress in hemp, eat roots, and travel by foot everywhere we go, not because it is good for us, but because it would lower our standard of living to the level of the rest of the world.

America is (still) the greatest country on the face of this planet. Our poor people have a higher standard of living than the average European. Those who exploit the differences in earnings in this country or exploit our guilt at our supposed "destruction" of the planet, do so to increase their own power over the people who produce the jobs, the goods, and the services that we all desire and need.

I'm sure that the solution to our problems lies between a return to the middle ages, and relinquishing our freedoms to those who are out to "save" us. Our planet is a living organism with all of the ability to cleanse itself of poisons that our own bodies posses. Our people are smart enough to see through the charlatans that are selling themselves as saviors. As Abraham Lincoln said, "You can fool all of the people some of the time, some of the people all of the time, but you can't fool all of the people all of the time." We just need remember to be gentle with Mother Earth and carefully scrutinize those who would be our masters in the guise of solving our problems. We are not the problem, we are the solution.

Sorry. This got a little heavier than I intended, but I'm not cold any longer. :-)

Stay well, and stay warm.