Griswold Christmas

Lately I've been lacking motivation, as if you hadn't noticed by my blogging hiatus. That is, if I still have blog readers at this point...right now it's entirely possible that I'm only blogging to myself. If so, not only am I unmotivated, but I'm now touched in the head. Oh well.

I did recently discover why I can't seem to get into the Christmas spirit. Someone in Conway is totally hogging it all. The proof is in the yard, which we tracked from several blocks away.

Holy friggin' electric bill...

Bethany: "Is your house on fire Clark?"

Clark: "No Aunt Bethany, those are the Christmas lights."

Buffalo Float

It stopped raining and warmed up a couple days this week, long enough for a beautiful day of floating the Buffalo river with some friends. This was the first time in years I've been in a canoe, since I much prefer my kayak. A canoe is so much work and so much more unstable and less manuverable than a kayak, but this time circumstances made dealing with a canoe easier. Luckily Daryl and I were able to remember how to canoe enough so we didn't dump and made it appear as if we knew what we were doing.

With all the rain this year, we had plenty of water and for once didn't drag over the shoals, and we shared the river with only a small handful of other floaters and fishermen. Without a doubt, this was one of the best days I've spent on one of my favorite rivers.

Ready for launch...

Daryl at the stern of our canoe, with his Michael Jackson glove.

Me.

A dab of fall color.

Lunchtime!

Alan, Daisy, and Yvonne. Alan plays a heck of a mandolin, Yvonne the bass and autoharp. Daisy just listens.

Raccoon tracks.

Picturesque.

Chewing Gum Fail

I consider myself quite the chewing gum connoisseur, and I while I'm not steadfastly loyal to one brand, I do particularly enjoy Orbit gums. You may have noticed the same trend as I have of late of outlandish and wacky sounding gum flavors appearing on store shelves. At first I was tempted by these new taste sensations, but after Orbit Sangria made my stomach flop around like a dying guppy I decided to stick with the old standby of some kind of mint or cinnamon.

However, hubby had yet to learn this lesson. At a recent gas station stop, he picked up Orbit Maui Melon Mint. I thought I'd give it a try, since it did have the word "mint" on the package.

We each popped a piece in our mouths and chewed. Marden summed up the taste in one astute statement, "Tastes like I'm eating Noxema!"

That's EXACTLY what it tasted like. And no, we don't go around tasting facial cleansers. But we've all had the experience of washing your face, and a little bit gets on your lip, and your first reaction is to go, "Pwaaahaaahwaaaaaaaaaaa!" That's Maui Melon Mint. I wonder if it also prevents blemishes?

And not only does it taste like facial cleanser, but it's the gum that keeps on giving. The next morning when I opened the door, I was immediately brutally assaulted by a rotten-fruit stench. On my mission to find the ginormous over-the-hill mangotangerinepineapple that must surely be stuck somewhere, I found the gum...the rotten stench emanating from within it's seemingly harmless package.

Yup. I don't care if it means I'm boring or an old fogey. I'm sticking with plain 'ol doesn't-stink-up-your-car-or-make-you-puke mint or cinnamon.

Honor Roll Eagle Scout Suspended For Pocket Knife In Car

And the idiocy continues...

http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,565520,00.html

Good Freaking Grief

Again, I must ask the question...when exactly did we start collectively losing our minds? This morning during my morning cup of coffee I nearly dropped my cup when I heard the story that hopefully you've heard by now. Six-year-old Zachary Christie, who was so excited about joining the Cub Scouts, took his combo knife/fork/spoon to school to use at lunchtime. As a result, he was expelled for bringing a "weapon" to school, and now must attend reform school. Here's the story you can read for yourself:

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/10/12/education/12discipline.html

And, here's a link if you think this is just as much ridiculous idocy as I do:

http://helpzachary.com

You know, I'm not THAT old. I can't believe things have changed SO much just since the 90's. I vividly remember our school parking lot full of farm trucks, complete with gun racks - and guns IN the racks. I remember once in history class, the teacher had recieved a box containing new books, and she asked who had a pocket knife she could borrow. Nearly everyone in the room offered her one. How have we come to this point?

How far will we go?

Congrats Caveman Cuisine!

A few years ago, my cousin Chad decided to take up bbq-ing. Not just your average Joe backyard grill bbq - this is some serious no-holds-barred-bbq-sauce-in-your-face competition bbq-ing. Soon, Caveman Cuisine was born (cue lights and angels).

I'd never known Chad to be a real Maestro in the kitchen, so his bbq dream came as a bit of a surprise to me. Surprise which turned to drooling awe after the first bbq sauce smeared taste. And, over the past few years, his bbq has only gotten better, with tender brisket, beyond tasty chicken, perfect pulled pork, and my favorite - ribs that you don't even have to chew - they just magically float from the plate to your mouth to your very happy tummy. As Grandpa would say, Chad's bbq is "larrupin'".

This past weekend Chad and crew, with smokers on their log cabin kitchen trailer in tow, headed up to Kansas City to the American Royal BBQ Competition Invitational, one of the most prestigious bbq competitions in the world, to stack their meat up against 123 other teams. Chad walked away victorious, with...drumroll... Reserve Grand Champion. They took 1st in pork, with a perfect score of 180, and 13th in brisket. For Sunday's open competition, out of 473 teams, Caveman Cuisine took a very brag-worthy 54th.

I'd like to say my slammin' logo design had a hand in the win, but I have a sneaking suspicion that it was actually the food. Congratulations Chad, Nicki, Brett, Cole, Jodie, and BJ!

By the way, I'm always available for a taste test...

Yay China!

This week marked the 60th anniversary of the rule of Communism in China, which was celebrated by lighting up the Empire State Building in red and yellow. This caused numerous human rights organizations - such as Human Rights Watch, who has offices in the building (as well irking many Americans who are still paying attention), to exclaim, "say WHAT?!?" due to this political party's tendency to um...deny people basic human rights. But, even though communism is the antithesis to the American ideal, a classic American icon is lit up in China's colors to celebrate. Of course, they do own us now. Hooray! So put on your ultra-cool Che shirt, read up on Marx, and give a salute. It's good practice.

Silver Dollar City

This past weekend the hubby and I met my folks for a day at a local theme park, Silver Doller City. If you haven't heard of it, you're not from here. I'm told it's known worldwide, which may be true, but I just can't imagine anyone travelling any distance for the specific purpose of visiting the park. Don't get me wrong - it's nice - maybe it's just been that growing up in the vicinity of Branson takes away some of the thrill. SDC really plays up the down-home Ozarks image of music, shows, and crafts. Some aspects are pretty neat, and some sit on the border of lame and hokey. It's pretty much what you'd expect from Branson, catering mostly to tourists who want to see down-home "authentic" Ozark hillbilles.

Still, it's not a bad way to spend a beautiful late-September day. And, we had the added bonus of seeing Violet, my illustrious fiddle teacher, who has had her fiddles and herself displayed in a booth every year during the Craftsman's Festival in September and October for many years now. I even played a few songs with her, accompanied by her grandson on the guitar, and some other guy I didn't know also on the guitar. My ears only burned mildly hot with embarassment, and I actually felt confident in my meager playing abilities while spectators watched and clapped.

We soon left Violet to deal with her many admirers, in order to meander around the park, browse the crafts, and get in some thrill rides. Silver Dollar City isn't by any means well known for ultra-trilling rides, and in the realm of today's amusement parks, SDC's rides would be considered pretty tame. Still, now with real roller coasters and a giant barn swing ride, it's made great improvements. And it helps that neither hubby or I have extensive amusement park experience, as much as we'd like to. Neither of our ride resumes reach beyond regional parks, and unfortunaly we've never been on any of the big

famous rides featured on television.

My main goal of the day was to try out Powder Keg, which was new to me. There's a good reason this coaster is called "Powder Keg." Unlike most coasters which slowly pull off the embarking platform and inch up the first hill, keeping riders in anticipation of the first drop, Powder Keg pulls forward and stops on a piece of track which moves sideways and upwards to pull forward onto the main track. THEN, after a few tense seconds, the coaster cars are instantly blasted forward from zero to ninety (well, actually 0-53 mph), up the first hill to fall down a screaming drop, which you're totally unprepared for because you're still thinking about the unceremoniously quick start.

Unfortunately, hubby and I were not aware of this fact.

From our vantage point waiting in line we couldn't witness it and be warned, either. Instead we happily boarded, and I even remarked to Marden, "This must be a pretty pud coaster...it only has lap bars." He agreed. Our cars pulled out onto the movable track, putting us on the main track, where we sat. I presumed we were waiting for the last set of cars to clear a certain point before we started lumbering up the hill. Not that I gave it much thought...we were busy chatting and waving at Mom and Dad who were on the observation platform. Mr. and Mrs. Oblivious. I was in mid-sentence when we were unceremoniously jerked forward, leaving my innards in place while the rest of my body went screaming down the track. At least that's what it felt like.

I think my exact words were, "I don't think Mom has the camera turned onNNNAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!" I can't type Marden's exact words becuase this is a family-friendly blog.

We rode Powderkeg three times, once waiting extra long to get seated in the front car.

I think we hit all the rides, which doesn't take long at SDC. We avoided the water rides, but made sure to hit "Fire in the Hole", which hasn't changed a bit since I was in early elementary school, when the ride was shortened. I barely remember the longer ride, but found more details on the old ride thanks to Fire in the Hole's very own Wikipedia page: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fire_In_The_Hole_(Silver_Dollar_City)

It's pretty weak in terms of a "thrill ride"...but very nostalgic.

All in all, it was a great day, and we left happily exhausted. I hope I'm never "too old" for theme parks and funnel cakes.

More Vacation Pics

Southwest Revisited

Today I think I'm finally recovered...the last day or so I've been completely worn to a frazzle from spending a week on the road and in New Mexico.

A few weeks ago my friend Judith called to tell me of an amazing opportunity - she and her husband were planning a trip to meet some friends in Taos, New Mexico, but at the last minute he couldn't go, and would I be interested?

Does a bear use Charmin after it poos in the woods? I guess we all know the answer to that, and now you know the answer I gave Judith. If our trip was going to be anything like our Southwest adventure last year when we explored and camped the four-corners region, I was all in.

So, last Friday we loaded up with way too much stuff and eagerly pointed the Prius west. Judith is an easygoing travelling partner and we have a lot in common, including our love for seeing what's on the other side of the hill, a tendency to avoid Interstate travel, and a desire to simply fly-by-the-seat of our pants. We like the back roads, mostly because Interstates are boring, and you miss a bunch of interesting stuff. If we'd stuck to the Interstate and stayed on a rigid schedule like a lot of travellers, we would've missed stuff like getting disoriented in Tulsa, touring the "No Man's Land Museum" in the Oklahoma panhandle, stopping to get a bunch of green Hatch chilies from a roadside stand (making the car smell very chili-peppery), and nearly upending the car to see Historical Markers.

The theme for this trip was "I'm game if you are."

The first half of the journey was spent in an absolutely awesome rented house in Taos with some folks from Texas, who go frequently to the area to enjoy the artsy, hippie-esque culture and to paint landscapes. Well, the women do...the guys mostly seem to piddle around with their metal detectors or frequent the local casino. I took my drawing stuff, but I couldn't seem to get the time or inkling to sit long enough to draw - too much to see and do. While the others painted our first full day there, Judith and I travelled to the Three Rivers wilderness area to do some ambitious day hiking. I think it's safe to say that as much as we both love to hike, we got our fill on this day.

A few of the house guests played instruments, and against my better judgement I brought my fiddle on the off chance they wanted to taint their great music with the screechings of a scratchy, inexperienced fiddle. But, they insisted, and it was actually a lot of fun. Apparently it didn't sound too terrible, because we played for three nights and nobody's ears bled.

Second day in Taos we accompanied the group to Arroyo Hondo - for the ladies to paint, and for us to mess around hiking and searching for petroglyphs, as well as enjoying the hot springs. "Enjoy" may be a bit much, since on this day it pretty much felt hotter than blue blazes, and after a short hike to the site a bathwater temperature spring isn't high on the list to sit in. Still, we sat...it wasn't bad if a person stood frequently to cool off. Later we went to Arroyo Seco to eat at a tiny little joint, then back to the house to play more music.

The third day we dragged our tired butts out of bed and decided to spend the day mostly shopping and doing the less strenuous toursity things normal people do in Taos, so we visited the Kit Carson museum and the Taos Pueblo.

Day four we hit the road again and drove the scenic loop around Taos. Unfortunately it was raining so we couldn't do much, but I did encounter a lady who told me all about the UFOs which hover over the canyon. This nice lady went from her pleasant can-I-help-you visitor center face to wild-eyed alien abductee in .02 seconds, and with little prodding she went into detail. That experience alone was worth driving the loop. After nutty UFO lady we had a decision to make - head home, or do more stuff. After a very short discussion, we headed south for White Sands.

White Sands, like pretty much everything else, was awesome. We visited on a very rare rainy day, and the whiteness of the dunes I suspect was even more brilliant against dark rainy mountains, and it was surreal walking around in such snowy whiteness while not being cold.

Maybe it was the visitor center UFO lady that prompted us, but we decided we couldn't leave New Mexico without visiting Roswell. It was, actually, on our way. We pulled up to the International UFO Museum and Research Center unfortunately after they'd closed, and after some deliberation we decided we had to see that museum, even if it meant home would have to wait another day.

The museum was all we'd hoped for and more. I was especially gratified when I was placing the "where-are-you-from-pins" on the map and was greeted by one of the workers who asked how many were in my party visiting the museum. I said, "two", and he stated, "ahh...two humans" before ambling off. The museum was surprisingly professional despite the greeting and considering the subject matter, which covered in depth with newspaper articles and sworn affidavits about everything from the Roswell UFO crash to sightings/incidents around the world, weird inexplicable body implants and what little is actually known about Area 51. While I will remain an interested skeptic until I see a bonafide UFO and/or alien with my own eyeballs, I concur that the "Roswell Incident" is very very fishy.

It's a dreary pre-fall day back here in Arkansas, but thanks to some of the stuff I brought back the house smells western - like sage and roasted chilies. New Mexico is wonderful to visit, but I'm not sure I'd ever get used to living out there. There's a measure of comfort in big green trees and grass. The mountains are nice, but I don't think I could see myself permanently in the arid climate and wide-open spaces void of large trees, full of sage brush and desolate emptiness. I guess it's just all in what you're used to. Still, I'll be ready to go back.

More pics to come!

Warning - Political Stuff

Oh no! She's at it again...airing her political opinions. Give me a second to get up on my soapbox.

There are so many things to write about these days...so many things making me want to stick forks in my eyeballs out of frustration. I feel the need to explain myself...why does this stuff matter to me so much? Because I, like many Americans these days, feel more and more helpless, without a voice. We feel a strong, very visceral, feeling that our Republic is being changed right under our noses, our personal freedoms just about to be trampled, and most of us are too ignorant to see what is happening.

My desires are simple. No matter what political party, I simply want politicians to follow the Constitution, remember we are a Republic, and stay true to the expressed desires of the American people....and that hasn't been happening. For a WHILE. Our current administration doesn't get all the blame. In the past I've played into partisan politics, but I've seen the error of my ways, and I've officially resigned from the Republican party, for good unless they return to the principles I thought they stood for, and please - quit with the corruption.

All of a sudden, things seem backward. Marxism isn't viewed as being so bad. Socialism...hey, it works some places...we should try it here! We have politicians calling regular Americans standing up for a cause they believe in ugly names, not answering direct questions, while a congresswoman stands up and actually says that Fidel Castro is a great leader, and he's done "so much" for the Cuban people. Um...did you ask all the Cubans who are leaving all that greatness to float over to the U.S. in a raft? Michael Moore has a new movie vilifying capitalism - the very system that made him rich. When exactly did we all start losing our minds? We had an avowed Communist activist in the White House as "Green Jobs Czar", or, a special advisor to the President if you prefer. When did this become ok? Van Jones did resign of course, but all the media could talk about was how he called Republicans "a**holes", and how he's a "9/12 Truther." Um...that shouldn't have been the issues causing resignation...I myself have referred to Republicans in similar terms lately, and I also have questions about 9/11, though maybe not as far-reaching as the Truthers. How about...um...HE'S AN AVOWED COMMUNIST. Not to mention all the unsavory audio/video about changing our system, spreading the wealth, etc. Marx would've been proud. How did this guy make it into the White House???

Then, healthcare. The Pres says the debate is over, and we need to act. Huh? Do the millions of Americans who put the brakes on the bill not get a voice anymore? It's not like the Repubs and Blue Dogs are standing in the way just because they want to throw in a monkey wrench...there are a few actually LISTENING to their constituents. As it should be...as our system was designed. Unfortunately, so many in office now are of the same opinion as Bill Mahr...that we're too stupid to see what's in our best interest, and just ram it through already. Never mind the will of the people. Never mind that the politicians work for US, not the other way around. Never mind massive debt. Never mind that we have a healthcare system that CAN work if we tried some tweaks (Tort reform, interstate competition, tax breaks, vouchers, etc) - not the sweeping, massive changes being suggested....and you can't convince me these changes won't lead to more unsustainable debt (just ask the non-partisan CBO - Congressional Budget Office), and eventually socialized medicine. The words "I'm in favor of a single-payer system" came out of President Obama's mouth just a couple years ago, and so far he hasn't stated he has changed his mind. Republicans have offered no less than 35 reform bills just this year to the President, Nancy Pelosi, and Harry Reid, none of which have even gotten a hearing, and yet the President continues to say his opponents have given no alternatives to his proposed sweeping changes.

Then of course there's the cost - $900 billion. That's $900,000,000,000 proposed. Never have cost estimates on heath care been accurate - they are always at least doubled. Even Bush's Medicare Part D has blown away all cost estimates. Again, ask the CBO.

And the facts about who is for these changes keeps getting SOOO skewed, it's hard to know what's truth. CNN ran a poll the day after President Obama's healthcare speech, showing that 75% of people thought it favorable. At the bottom was fine print stating that of those polled, 45% were Dems, 17% Repubs. Think you can get a fair poll that way? No, but you can sure fool folks not reading the fine print.

Government keeps getting bigger and bigger, with more of a hold on the people. For any of you who are fans of big government - ever thought about how BAD big government might be when the party you oppose has the power?

We have a great country, a beacon of freedom for the world. It's my personal opinion that we really need to pay attention, consider what's being proposed, and stand up when we don't feel it's right. Republican, Democrat, or Independent...we all have so much in common we CAN agree on. But hey, I'm just a "nutjob", a "Tim McVeigh wannabe" who is "running around in a white sheet." Those ugly words were all heard on "unbiased" network news, by the way.

Today a bunch of regular Americans are marching on Washington to make their voices heard. Who knows if they will be. A significant chunk of our population is increasingly feeling alienated, ignored, and marginalized. Likely they will be ridiculed and mocked by the media, and possibly politicians also. They'll be called ugly and unfair names. They'll be the butt of jokes for late-night comedians. Regardless, I wish I could be with them...just a crazy nutjob looking for accountability from her elected representatives and government.

By the way, rebuttals are welcome. Someone prove me wrong. All I ask is for no name-calling - only the facts please.

Fiddle Update

My goal is to have a completed fiddle by Christmas, and I'll go out on a limb and say that I *think* it's actually doable. I'm seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. Or rather, hearing the music. Here's an update on my recent progress:

Most of "dishing out", as Violet calls it, of fiddle backs and tops are done with a curved knife. But the knife leaves deep grooves, so the finish work is done with a scraper - a piece of glass or sharpened metal, and sandpaper. Violet says she and her Dad used to do most of their scraping with broken fruit jars. Here's me in the process of scraping the inside of my top with a piece of windowpane hubby's granddad and I had a lot of fun breaking.

The grain of the sassafras wood I'm using makes it a little tougher to get smooth. Joe, a guy who's also making a fiddle, is using soft maple. He smugly sits across from me and proceeds to cut it like hot butter. However, I seem to gravitate toward challenges. (I mean, look at my choice in husbands. Haha...just kidding Marden.) I've learned a lot by watching Joe, though. #1) Always listen to Violet, because if you don't you end up putting a hole in your fiddle back, cutting the wrong end off your finger board, nearly putting a hole through the fiddle top, making your sound holes too big, and a myriad of other issues encountered by not listening. #2), Always measure multiple times, and have Violet check your work BEFORE you glue. #3) is to pretty much do the opposite of what Joe is doing. While he's a super-nice guy, he is the proverbial bull in the china closet. He'll get his fiddle done, though...and we'll both learn a lot in the process.

After what felt like years of scraping and sanding (and tons of sawdust boogers), I was FINALLY able to cut the sound holes. It took me a good 30 minutes to actually draw them on, then a full hour to screw up the nerve to actually make a cut. Violet does her sound holes with a drill press, but I wisely chickened out and chose to start mine with a tiny hand drill, then (remembering Joe) slowly expand the holes with a well-worn but very sharp pocket knife.

That's it for now! Stay tuned for further updates.

All Hail Octavia!!!

I got such acclaim for posting the last video, I decided to post another. It's been a while since I've visited "The Onion", but now I remember why it used to be one of my favorite sites...it counteracts the ridiculousness of our regular news networks. Right now I kind of need a few laughs.

All hail Octavia!!!

Nascar

Interesting video showing a pretty cool eye-opening inside look at the great sport of NASCAR racing, enjoyed not only by millions, but also myself and many friends and family.

Ash vs. Possum, Round II

If you've been reading my blog for any length of time, you know I have a flock of laying hens. I've learned a lot from keeping chickens, including the facts that 1) I now consider store-bought eggs to be no more than tasteless goo, 2) keeping chickens is addictive and hopefully wherever I go in life a few chickens will follow, and 3) that sometimes chickens just keel over and die for no apparent reason, so it's best not to become emotionally attached. Also, 4) chickens are incredibly dumb so that helps with the emotionally attached part.

Lately I've been having chicken troubles. In the past couple of months, I've lost 3 - two just seemed to have laid down and given up the good fight, and one snatched in the dark of night by some mysterious predator. One night a couple of weeks ago while checking the coop I came face-to-face with one of these predators - a possum. (I guess the correct name is "Opossum", but we're in the Ozarks and I've never in my life heard them called anything but a possum except on TV.) This particular possum was pretty laid back as possums tend to be, despite the fact that I was pretty angry that he was in my coop. I found a stick and whacked and poked him until he decided maybe it would behoove him to leave, and he slunk out of the coop and under the so-called "predator proof" electric fence. I called Lucy, who back in her younger years was a possum-killing fool, to take care of the problem. After giving the possum's butt a good sniff, Lucy ambled over to see what I wanted. Some guard dog. The possum scooted off to the woods.

After securing the chickens for the night in the coop, the next day I re-checked the fence, mowed the chicken yard, and was confident things were secure. And they were, until a few nights ago.

I had gotten in late that evening and rushed around doing my evening chores, and I was a bit distracted by keeping one eye on the sky for the meteor shower predicted for that night. I shut the chickens in the coop and went indoors to watch a movie until the shower was supposed to be brightest. At midnight I meandered outside to watch the sky, but my attention was drawn to the chicken coop where I heard frantic scratchings coming from the "upstairs" enclosed area. I ran to the coop with my flashlight, counted the chickens piled up in the "downstairs", and when all were accounted for opened the egg-access door - to meet the same possum. At least it looked the same. I had inadvertently shut him in the coop WITH the chickens. Doh! Lucky for me (and the chickens) he was too frantic trying to get out to have a chicken snack, but he had made short work of the eggs I hadn't gathered.

Once again, I poked and whacked him with a stick. This time instead of leaving the coop he jammed himself up in the far corner. I left the coop to see if he'd come out. He didn't. At this point I was SO tired, and pretty darn irritated at the possum. I figured I had to shoot him because this was a repeating problem, but I didn't want to shoot him in the coop and make a mess. I had to get him out of the coop. What I needed was a lasso. I scoured the barn and came up with a 50' piece of rope, tied my slipknot, and went to work trying to lasso the possum. After 15 minutes and with the help of my trusty stick, I got the loop over his head and dragged a VERY irate possum out, taking full advantage of the 50' of rope. After I got him out of the chicken yard and over the "predator-proof" fence I wasn't sure what to do. The shotgun was in the house, and I was standing in the yard with a possum on a rope in the middle of the night. For the sake of my chickens, I couldn't just let him go. I did what any logical person would do - tied him to the big yard light pole while I retrieved the gun.

*I think hubby would appreciate me noting that he was NOT home at the time of these shennanigans.

By the time I returned with the loaded 12 gauge, the possum was sitting calmly at the end of his rope. I reminded myself of my hen's safety and walked up to the possum and aimed right between his eyes. His beady little eyes. Looking right at me. Crap. He was only a young possum doing what possums do...and to think of all the baby possums I've raised. Crap.

I couldn't do it. I can dispatch a deer with no problem, help hubby dress it, and grind the meat myself. I can shoot a turkey in the face and do a victory dance, then fry up his breast with a side of green beans feeling no remorse. I can even process my own meat chickens. But I can't dispose of an egg-sucking, probable chicken-killing possum.

Now what? I couldn't let him go. Well, I couldn't let him go HERE. I untied the rope and led the possum to the truck. And, you guessed it, got him up in the bed and tied the other end to a support post. Good thing he was a possum...a raccoon would've eaten my face back at the coop with the stick-poking. This possum by now was either on Valium, stunned into complete shock, or resigned to his fate. Indeed, he seemed to be undecided as to whether now was an appropriate time for the "playing possum" act. I hopped into the truck and tried to think of where to drop him. I didn't want to plague some other hapless chicken-owner with my problem possum, so I decided to go out to the Wildlife Management Area about 5 miles away.

Then it occurred to me...what if I got pulled over? Here I was, 1:30 a.m., in my pajamas, no license, in an old Ford truck with a possum tied to a support post in the bed. Just another night in Arkansas. That's probably the best explanation I could give to a cop at that point.

I successfully reached the WMA, worked the rope off with my stick, and the possum scooted off into the woods to take his chances around less-crazy beings. I returned home at 2 a.m. and fell into bed.

If that possum turns up again, I AM shooting him. I think. By the way, my husband thinks I'm certifiable. I'm not sure he's wrong.

Healthcare Reform Bill Link

I've had several people ask me if I knew where to find the actual Healthcare Bill currently being proposed so they can read it, so it's posted at the end of this blog.

And if you know me, you know I just can't keep my mouth shut or my keyboard quiet. Lately I've been absolutely APPALLED by the assault on our first amendment rights by the media and the current administration. It's constantly being suggested that anyone opposing this bill are "nutjobs" and "unruly mobs" and that they just need to shut up and let this thing pass. Um...excuse me, but don't the politicians work for US? Since when can we not question them??? And I'm sorry, but according to current polls, over 50% of Americans think this is a bad idea.

Rasmussen poll page: http://www.rasmussenreports.com/public_content/politics/obama_administration/daily_presidential_tracking_poll

So...how are the protests not representing a significant portion, if not a majority, of American's concerns? As far as "angry mobs", I've seen none. I've seen angry American citizens conducting themselves in an appropriate manner, and with the exception of a few people shouting at politicians (which is not appropriate, but could hardly be called "mobish"), citizens have conducted these debates much more orderly than say...the left when amnesty was being discussed. I seem to remember seeing flaming trash cans, vandalized property, and yes...truly angry, yelling mobs.

Here's the complete bill. Read it, and be informed.

http://energycommerce.house.gov/Press_111/20090714/aahca.pdf

Food for Thought - Part I

In a previous post I mentioned I'd just read Barbara Kingsolver's "Animal, Vegetable, Miracle - A Year of Food Life." I have to admit, it's a book I've been putting off for a while because it's non-fiction, and I must confess that sometimes for me reading non-fiction is a struggle unless the book is something I'm truly interested in, like pirates, American history, or political commentary. And even with subjects I'm very interested in, I've waded through some writing as dull as watching paint dry.

And as most fiction-lovers, I've had to put up with so many of those rude, snobby comments from non-fiction readers about how fiction-readers are intellectually inferior, keeping my mouth discreetly shut while longing to make a retaliatory comment about lack of imagination and variety.

However, I finally beat down the NONFICTION monster and delved into Kingsolver's book. Had I not already been a huge fan of Kingsolver's fiction, I likely would've never picked up this book - and that's hard to imagine. From the first pages I never felt a need to lean on the crutch of a fiction book. I took my time, forcing myself to go chapter by chapter, stopping frequently to check out facts and web pages she's listed, and pausing to make notes in my garden journal.

This book is about Kingsolver and her family embarking on a year-long quest to eat foods only gown locally, either from their own farm or purchased from area farmers. She mixes in her reasons for taking on this challenge, and presents many facts and truths about our current mainstream food situation.

She really hit hard on some issues that have been rattling around in my brain for a while now: 1) our fragile food distribution system and the waste it causes, 2) our MEGA loss of vegetable varieties, and 3) the widening gulf between us and our food - not just that it comes from far off, but in the short span of about 50 years we've lost most of the knowledge about growing food that our grandparents just knew. Thousands of years of food-growing knowledge, now gone from our common collective in the blink of an eye. In addition, she touches on the very scary reality of lab engineered hybrid plants - some now being spliced with animal genes. Makes you think twice before diving into that plate of hybrid corn-on-the-cob.

I've mentioned before when talking of gardening that it bothers me greatly that so much of our food is imported. There is a massive gulf between a great majority of us and our food - not only in physical distance, but in the knowledge of where it comes from and how it's grown. It doesn't seem right that we can go to the grocery store in January and buy a puny-looking watermelon. It goes against my ingrained sense that watermelons are to be consumed when the temperature is at least in the 90's and you eat it while standing outside leaning over so the juice doesn't get on your bare feet and make them sticky. And if you actually buy one of these in January, you quickly find that it wasn't worth a cent of what you paid.

What I didn't know is exactly HOW FAR removed we've come from our food supply - so far that kids now don't have a clue what "out of season" means, unless they are one of the dwindling farm kids or in the small minority of gardening families. They don't realize that milk really does come out of a cow, that carrots grow underground, or that peas were in a pod before a can. In addition to our disturbing lack of knowledge, having so much of our food shipped in from parts unknown causes a pretty precarious food supply chain. If that chain were to break, what would we do? A great majority would be running around like headless chickens, with no clue how to produce any food, let alone preserve it for later. Then there's the recent salmonella outbreaks - by the time a problem is realized with the spinach from California, it's made it's way to all points of the country.

I myself know that an apple, no matter how beautiful it appears, isn't supposed to taste like mealy cardboard. A tomato is supposed to be RED (if it indeed is a red variety), juicy, and very tasty - not grainy and hard. I wonder, how many people so far removed from food production really know WHY apples taste so much better in the fall and tomatos all of a sudden gain color and taste in the summer? (Not to mention go down in price). Do they care?

Where I disagreed with Kingsolver was where she seemed to take blame for this trend completely out of the hands of the consumers and put it squarely on "evil" capitalism. It's plain where she stands politically, and she's got every right and decent arguments to that way of looking at things. I just simiply disagree. You're not going to convince me that capitalism isn't the best way to do things - it's what made our country great in the first place. However, it does come with some undesirable side-effects, such as Walmart and lazy consumers. I put the great majority of the blame on the consumer. Capitalism will supply what the consumer demands, and if the consumer demands peaches in December, by golly someone will try to make money getting them into consumer's hands. And the lazy consumer will think this is great, forgetting that peaches are supposed to be eaten in the summer when they are (here we go again), in season, not only tasting good but benefiting local growers.

In addition, Kingsolver really truly believes in global warming caused by greenhouse gasses caused by us, the evil fossil fuel-user, and therefore we shouldn't buy imported foods because of how much fossil fuel it takes to get it from one place to another. I may not agree with the reasoning - I'm not so sold on human-caused global warming as to think we're destroying the planet by eating out-of-season foods, but I do agree it's a tremendous waste, to think of the amount of fuel and resources used to get a tasteless out-of-season apple from California to New York.

I REALLY hate waste. My husband refers to me as the "Water Nazi", and also gets irked that our Tupperware cabinet is full of used butter and cottage cheese containers. Hey, why buy Gladware when you buy it already? Who cares if it says "I Can't Believe It's Not Butter"?

And that's one of my points - I believe we can be much healthier, improve the economy, and "save the planet" just through old-school common sense rather than radically changing the fundamentals of our American way of life. How many rich actors screaming about environmentalism save their butter containers and re-use water bottles?

Even if you disagree with the above sentiment, wouldn't it be at least a little better if everyone were more aware of where their food comes from? If everyone were to make a little effort at buying local food and helping the local economy? If we took a step back and re-learned a bit of the knowledge that was so common just 50 years ago? I just happened to drive by the farmer's market last week, and there were plenty of delicious-looking organic produce, at VERY reasonable prices. Yep, even though I'm going to be covered in tomatos in the next few weeks (I got mine in late), I bought some. Along with a very delicious watermelon. And yes, my first step toward heirloom gardening was saving the seeds.

I'm not at all sure I'm ready to take the year-long challenge as Kingsolver did, though I may think about it. Of course, Marden would also have to be on board. And when you think about what that REALLY means, it's a daunting proposition. But, I feel we're on the right track.

I'm sure I'll have much more on this later, lest my rambling thoughts continue to carry on in different disjointed tangents for pages. For now, just some "food for thought."

Me, Mom, Chiggers, and Granolas

There was a little chigger,

that wasn’t any bigger,

Than the point of a teeny-tiny pin.

But the lump that it made,

just itches like the blaze,

And that’s where the rub comes in.
Comes in, comes in, and that’s where the rub comes in.

Yes, the lump that it made just itches like the blaze,

And that’s where the rub comes in.

I came across this little ditty while doing some Internet research to see if there are ANY chigger remedies out there I haven't tried. There aren't.

Last week was pretty awesome - Mom came to visit, and for once during a visit of hers we didn't have anything to do but enjoy ourselves. Of course, you also begin to realize how boring your life is when you are attempting to entertain someone...made especially difficult when you're going sans-TV. We ended up reading a lot. A LOT. I gulped down 1 1/2 books, and I think she got in a whole two.

We got in some more active activities, too. Since I've lived in the area, I've been meaning to take in some of the local trails - and I haven't. As much as I enjoy hiking, sometimes I tend to overlook trails right in our own area. Heck, Marden and I hiked the heck out of Colorado and Tennessee, but have virtually ignored great trails right here in our back yard. So, Mom and I took off for the Buffalo River, meaning to hike Indian Rockhouse Trail. Once we FINALLY found the trail (Buffalo Point Park, which is NPS, should really consider a labeled MAP), it was definitely worth our while. Indian Rockhouse was an awesome trail, mildly strenuous (I hate trails that feel as if you're walking through a cow pasture), scenic, and with lots of stuff to see along the way. Not to mention the actual rock house, which goes beyond description. Unfortunately I don't have any pictures to show because I seem to have lost the cord I need to download pictures. Maybe by next post. And this is where we were viciously attacked by chiggers.

I HATE chiggers. Not that I know anyone who likes them, but I sure seem to be a target more than most. I must taste like chigger candy. I love summer, but I DREAD the inevitable - having my feet/ankles/lower legs look like they've been chewed and on FIRE with itch. And chigger bites aren't only uncomfortable (to put it mildly), but extremely unattractive to the point of looking like the poor afflicted is carrying some kind of disease, only compounded by dried calamine lotion. Ick. This summer I'd been lucky, but of course my luck had to run out. I'm afflicted.

Another highlight during Mom's visit was a trip up to Mansfield, MO to Bakersville, home of Baker Creek Heirloom Seeds. Here's a link if you want to check them out. You can also sign up for a catalog: http://rareseeds.com/

I've been meaning to get up there to take a look for a while, but I've recently read a book which really made me jump onto the heirloom bandwagon full-throttle.

I've been reading Barbara Kingsolver's "Animal, Vegetable, Miracle", and it's really woken me up to a lot of issues concerning our food...issues which have been banging around in my head for some time, and this book really brought them into focus. More on that later, lest this post turn into something resembling the Internet version of "War and Peace." But in a nutshell, I've gone from being pretty unconcerned as to whether the stuff I planted in my garden was hybrid or heirloom to now being pretty darn convinced that I should be not only planting ONLY heirlooms, but saving the seeds as well. But like I said, likely MUCH more thoughts on that later, as this was kind of one of those life-altering reads. (Hey, I SAW you roll your eyes...)

Mom and I trekked up to Bakersville bright and not-so-early for their monthly garden festival and summer seed sale. Overall, the place was pretty cool. Not worth the 1hr+ drive if you're not after seeds, but still pretty cool. They had a pioneer village, poultry on display, a farmer's market, and folk music. I could've done without the folk music. Not that I just hate folk music - I did grow up hearing a couple of Peter, Paul, and Mary albums mixed in with copious amounts of John Denver. I guess that music just seemed to have a time and place, and this modern folk music makes me want to toss my cookies. It's like the people are pretending way to hard to be all "folky" and one with Mother Earth and all that jazz. It just doesn't seem to fly in 2009. I would much rather have heard some good bluegrass, but the closest anyone got was some dude yodeling. Gack. Bakersville really draws the modern-day hippies, or as my brother calls them (and therefore I cobbed onto the term too), "Granolas." Granolas were out in force this day. Guys wearing tye-dye shirts with rolled-up or crazily cut-off overalls, girls also sporting overalls, but some opting for the "I-weave-my-own-fabric-from-organic-cat-hair-while-singing If I Had a Hammer" skirts. Rope sandals, earrings on guys, and my favorite - very large American Indian necklaces on obviously white people - were also pretty common. Mom bought a plant from an oldish guy wearing overalls and six earrings in his ear. I even spotted a flyer advertising Cindy Sheehan's anti-war cause stuck in a display case among antique gardening flyers. Silly Granolas...

Still, there were "normal folk" at this thing, too...I guess as normal as you can get spending your Sunday at a garden festival celebrating organic and heirloom fruits and veggies...so Mom and I weren't too conspicuous in our jeans and sneakers. We made out like bandits in the seed store, and I've got my work cut out for me next year with starting my own seeds. I did try it last year without success. I got the seeds to sprout nicely, but I tried setting out half the baby plants well after the frost and they promptly died a spectacular death. Same for the indoor seeds I DIDN'T set out. Yes...definitely have a busy winter ahead figuring this seed-starting business out. If I'm successful, I'll have all kinds of heirloom tomatoes coming out my ears, as well as some crazy stuff I just wanted to try. Blue pole beans, anyone?

A Successful Mid-Summer Break

The shin splints are gone, and my spirits are refreshed after several days of no-stress fishing in very beautiful, un-Julyish weather. Many trout were caught, numerous fish released, and a few un-lucky ones had a meeting with the BBQ grill. YUM.

Shaping Up - Update

OUCH. Shin splints.

I have heard the only cure is a good long soaking in waters inhabited by trout...and if I'm soaking, I'm pretty much obligated to fish.

If I must, I must.

Health Care Worries

If you want an idea of why this current government-sponsored health care bill is a NIGHTMARE, listen to this Betsy McCaughey interview with Fred Thompson.

http://www.facebook.com/ext/share.php?sid=147494195032&h=f80sk&u=buHl_&ref=nf

So many people seem to think that "free" government sponsored health care is a good idea. Believe it or not, I used to think this at one time too, having been frustrated with my own experiences with health insurance. It's been a few years of doing research, reading, and trying to see things from all sides. Having done research and also talked to quite a few people who live or have lived in countries where health care is government provided, I DON'T think this is a good idea. Doctors no longer have incentive. Patients are just a number. Bureaucrats make the decisions on what care you can/can't get based on numbers on a paper. Old people and the infirm are viewed as "expensive liabilities" and worth less than healthy people, frequently DYING before care is approved or because care was not approved at all. Then, there's the HUGE TAXES to pay for it.

I'll be the first to admit that there are major problems with our current system, but I really believe we do have the best system and that these problems can be fixed through reform that doesn't take the control from us and doesn't put all control into the government's hands. I think it goes beyond politics. Whether you're Democrat or Republican, seriously ask yourself whether this is truly the direction we should go.

There are some serious questions I'd like to ask President Obama right now, including:

Why the hard push to get this passed when you admit you haven't read the bill, and admittedly aren't familiar with some of the basic tenants of the bill?

Why not slow down a bit, lay it ALL out, let the American people see it, read it, and then let the PEOPLE decide to fundamentally change the whole system?

Why did you vote AGAINST every health care reform bill that ever came up, but yet are trying to push this huge monstrosity through now as "health care reform"?

Why do you keep saying we can keep our current providers when it plainly states in the bill that we can't?

I have so many questions I can't list them all. I think of my Grandma, and I think of my parents when I hear this interview and others speaking out against this bill, and hear the big push to get this bill passed. I hear people who haven't done any research and who think they'll be getting "free health care" speaking in favor of this...some of the same people I've heard gripe about HMOs. This would be like a massive HMO. It would be like this CRAPPY Military TriCare my husband and I are on, where it's impossible to see a specialist or just to get someone to LISTEN. It's so bad people routinely refer to it as "Tri-UnCare." I'm surprised and dismayed that people are so willing to give up free will without really considering it.

And I'm scared.

A Quest to Shape Up

Recently I've lit a fire under my own butt to get in shape. I'm totally and completely appalled at the way my fitness has rapidly declined over the last few years. Once upon a time not too terribly long ago, I was a strong, lean, multi-sport college athlete. Now I'm not. Like so many many others, I've let life get in the way, and too many times used the excuse of "I worked hard today...I don't need excercise", so that eventually I got out of the habit.

Several recent events have, however, brought the issue to my attention. First, I'm currently on the church's co-ed softball team, and we play once a week. It's been at least 3 years since I've even been on a softball field, but I figured that since this is a sport I know inside and out, it would be business as usual. Heh. During the first game, after hitting a single to first, I thought my lungs were disintegrating. On the next hit I got thrown out at second because I was simply out of gas. Later in the game on my way from second to third, I tripped over my own feet to get a face full of dirt and had to frantically crawl back to second. How embarassing. I held my own in the outfield for a while, but eventually got burned on a fly ball I would've easily caught just three years ago. I knew the answer to my troubles but just didn't want to admit it. The sad truth is that I am *sigh* in my 30's now, and after a few years without any regular fitness it's really taken it's toll.

Then, I went to a routine doctor visit and found my resting heart rate to be 74. Not that great. Not HORRIBLE, but not great, either. I know that the doc's office isn't exactly the place to feel relaxed, so I tested myself later: 78. Eek. Granted, that's still in the realm of "normal", but it doesn't exactly scream healthy....especially when it used to regularly be in the low 60's.

The last is a real motivator...probably THE motivator. As mentioned in previous posts, we recently redid our bathrooms. In our master bath there is now a large mirror opposite the shower. *sigh* Soon my butt will have to have it's own zip code.

I've had countless people say things like, "Oh, that's just getting older" and "Yeah, once you hit 30 it's all downhill...nothing much you can do." What a load of utter horse pucky. Sure, I understand things slow down, body parts start giving in to gravity, it IS harder to lose weight, and you can't fight time...but you CAN be healthy, and I'm totally ashamed of myself for having to get BACK in shape when I never should've gotten out of it in the first place. I've let excuses rule my life, and I've had enough. Like on Stephanie's Pointed Meanderings blog recently - I need to get INTENTIONAL.

Hubby is also feeling the need for fitness. Now that he works with other full-time in-shape army types, he told me he's tired of walking around the office trying to appear normal and relaxed, all the while struggling to keep his gut sucked in. He even exercises more regularly than me, mostly because he has regular PT tests.

Our answer is a program really gaining popularity called Crossfit, which a lot of military people seem to use and we can do together. Every day a workout is posted to http://www.crossfit.com/, which is the kind of direction I need. I need to follow a specific program and be told what to do, and the program also encompasses many aspects of fitness - cardio, strength, endurance, balance, flexibility, and diet. It's also very hard-core, but the workouts can be modified to fit your fitness level (or lack of, in my case). I found this out on the FAQ page, after I panicked while checking the "Workout of the Day" (or "WOD"...this site really likes acronyms) and the assignment was "Run a 10K for time." I nearly fell out of the chair. I can't even run to first base. For no time. Imagine my relief when I found out their philosophy is to take it slow and work up to the WOD, which some people may never do, and to keep in mind age and gender may also affect the workout. I could be called feminist, but I'm also a realist. I'm pretty sure I'll never work up to doing 3 reps of 50 pull-ups. They also give lots of excercise substitutions - for instance, if you are like me and can't do a pull-up at all, do a negative pull-up, which is to get yourself up to the bar and let yourself down slowly. The whole idea is to get as close as possible without overdoing it. I kind of like that - always having a specific goal on the horizon, even if it *may* never be attained.

Right now my goal is to 1) stick with the running, and 2) survive the running. The rest I can handle.

They say runners fit into two categories: they either love running or they hate it. I don't fit into either...I LOATHE running. I always have. In high school track I did field events and was on a sprint team (4x100), but I stayed far from long distance events. In college I was always among the last to drag in after a distance run. The announcement of a "5-mile run today" always sent dread through my body, though I never minded sprint workouts. In the police academy I endured the morning runs, but never found that groove runners talk about getting into. I did significantly improve my running time over the 3 months, but to me that just meant a shorter time to suffer. I enjoyed no part of it.

I'm still searching for that groove. On my runs to the highway and back, I suffer all the old pains running always gives - my lungs feel like exploding, my knees feel funny, my throat feels swelled, my ears and even my teeth hurt. It's horrible. The reward only comes later in the form of tired muscles and the satisfaction that I'm making an effort, the hope that my runs will get easier, and the fact that even though I may miss a few days due to this or that, this time the routine seems to be well on it's way to habit.

My Sticky, Sticky Shoe...

Not only is that a Phoebe song from Friends, it now applies to the right flop of my favorite pair of flip-flops.

Side note: Remember when we could call them "thongs" without getting laughed at? Is that a sign of advancing age?

While down in Little Rock this week, looking at what may become our new abode (more on that later), I spent a few hours shopping while waiting for Marden to be off for lunch. One of my stops, of course, was Gander Mountain. Evidently the staff had been doing some re-arranging, and someone had peeled off the wide tape that had been down to mark aisles, but had not removed the sticky. While browsing the ladies's shorts I unknowingly landed my right foot squarely in this area. As I went to take another step, the shoe was stuck so forcefully that my foot came out, along with part of the strap, and I careened into a rack of "Life is Good" t-shirts. At that point life was not good...I was stuck in Gander Mountain with only one working shoe. I was, however, able to get the strap temporarily fixed, but now the bottom of the shoe was incredibly sticky.

Walking around on the concrete floor sounded something like, "flop...schllleeeeeeeep...flop...schlleeeeeeep...flop...schlllleeeeeeep..." Nice. Why always me? I guess a less-nice person would've sued, but instead I sheepishly made my way back to the car.

On to my destination - Academy Sports in the quest to find some running clothes. More on my workout intentions later, but for now I'll just mention that I am starting a new workout routine, and it occured to me on my first day of this routine that my workout clothes were in sorry shape. Several years with no regular workout-type exercise has not only taken a fitness toll, but a wardrobe toll as well. I was down to threadbare t-shirts from college, which really should be in the rag bin, and shorts (also mostly from my college days) with disintigrated elastic bands or holes. And I also thought it would be nice, solely for motivation's sake of course, to have nice new shorts and matching t's. If they happen to also be snazzy looking, well, that's just the price I have to pay to get in shape.

My problem in getting to Academy was mostly due to my fear of city driving. I get so irritated around Mountain Home getting behind a blue-hair from Chicago who can't drive hilly curves (a popular yankee technique is to floor it in the straight parts, run up on a curve, and slam on the brakes taking the curve at 20 mph). But, I've never really learned to comfortably city-drive, especially in areas I don't really know. I can do fine, but it sometimes comes with sweaty palms, gritted teeth, and white knuckles. In this particular area of town, it seems the road system was laid out by a drunk monkey. I had been to this Gander Mountain before, so arriving safely on the first try wasn't a problem. However, my drive to Academy Sports was a bit more interesting. I detest one-way outer roads, and this area is full of them. I drove by Academy no less than three times, like the Griswolds driving by Big Ben over and over again on the roundabout in Family Vacation.

"Look kids, there's Academy Sports!...Look kids, there's Academy Sports!"

I finally made it, in a mood not really fit for trying on shorts, but I eventually emerged victorious and with several new, cute (and on sale), running outfits.

Still hearing "Schlllleeeep...flop....shlllleeeeep...flop...", the whole way back to the car.

Berries, Gender-Confused Deer, and Bikes

Last week I FINALLY totally and completely finished work in the house with the installation of those final folding closet doors, installing base and door trim in and around said closet, and cutting/painting/installing new exterior trim for the back door. Neither job was even half as simple as it sounds, but oh so rewarding to proclaim, "It is DONE!" to nobody in particular.

Since hubby was at his weekend National Guard drill, I pointed my evil SUV toward my folk's for a little break. Naturally, since I like to think of myself as an accomplished multi-tasker, I also chose this visit to coincide with blackberry-picking time. Mom and Dad have some nice, productive bushes which were starts from Grandpa's bushes, and so far I've just got sprigs. I did manage to pick four blackberries this year. Not four cups...four berries. And, since moving is in our hopefully near future, the bushes will once again be uprooted and relocated (no way in heck I'm leaving them! This includes 5 blackberry and 10 gooesberry bushes.), and even next year four berries is likely all I can hope for.

Not that berries were my only motivation. Of course I wanted to visit, and I also wanted to see "Daisy", the fawn they've been raising for a few weeks now. Daisy showed up one day stuck in the fence, after being chased by a dog, with no mother doe in sight. Since it had been chased, needed doctoring from it's collision with the fence, and the folks with the neighboring farm had heard it hollering the day before, it was assumed that this was definately an occasion for intervention. It was a pet-peeve of mine as a Park Ranger that many well-meaning people would mistakenly kidnap fawns from mama deer every year, but in this case I'm certain the fawn needed the help.

Mom and Dad nursed it back to health, gave it antibiotic shots for an infected lip, and now it's growing like a weed. It's nose and mouth are still a little boogered up, but on the mend. He does seem to have a very prominent overbite, which could either be from injury or birth defect. However, it doesn't seemt to affect his eating. The only problem I spotted was the name "Daisy." They took for granted that the fawn was female, not having really investigated the very furry nether regions. And of course, I really have to know these things, so I made the discovery that "she" was really "he", and the name was promptly changed to "Davy."

Davy spends most of his time laying in the tall weeds down close to the creek or out in the blackberry bushes, only coming when he's called for to take a bottle. And he does come running, nearly barrelling over the bottle-holder. He's pretty spooky of people, which is a good thing, but he did get used to me enough to keep me company while berry picking (along with Dixie and Toby the cat), and he came over for a head-scratch from time to time before wandering off.

Aside from picking berries and determining fawn gender, I also went with Dad on a motorcycle ride. Dad's a "Prospect" for a local motorcycle club, and they were participating in a huge area fund raiser for Muscular Dystrophy. This is us heading to Joplin with a group of club riders. The rally was pretty cool - lots of cool bikes, and lots of bikers. I like looking at bikes, and the bikers were no less interesting. Not that I'm bashing bikers at all. Bikers are some of the nicest people out there, who do immeasurable good for various charities - it's just that if I were to become a biker, I'm not sure I'd fit in with appearance. I DID find out, though, that a great place to keep cigarettes is in your bra strap. I assume this provides for easy access and hands-free storage.

Unfortunately the mullet-hunting wasn't very productive at this event. Bikers and bike fans don't seem to sport mullets, instead favoring more normal and likely helmet-friendly hairdos, ranging from shaved heads, to normal hair (Dad fits into this category), to overall long hair pulled into a ponytail. We still haven't quite talked Dad into the clip-on ponytail, but I think it would look dashing, and it might make him feel more like a biker.

The most eye-catching item I spotted was a very prominently displayed belly. This guy was incredibly proud of his rotund appendage, showcasing the roundness for all to enjoy with a inadequate t-shirt and shortie-shorts. It's not certain how this belly was attained. My assumption is years of hard work with beer cans and hot dogs, but one can never be sure with a specemin of this magnitude.

Man that's a lotta goats

Interesting Read

Article by Conservative David Kahne titled, "I Still Hate You, Sarah Palin".

http://article.nationalreview.com/?q=NDE3MmE5MDVmMGM1YjQ2NmVhMjJkN2I2ZTcxMzhlNjU=&w=MA==

Fiddle Update

It's been some time since I've updated my fiddle-making progress, and in answer to some inquiries I thought I'd better post some pics. Believe it or not I'm still hard at it, and have actually made some good headway in recent months. I'm starting to really believe that someday I will be actually playing this thing.

I finally finished the fiddle back, which literally took MONTHS. Granted, I didn't exactly work on it every day, but I really think had I carved it out of marble it would've been quicker than the cement-like cherry! It's been worth it, though...even though I put in twice as much work as the two other fiddle-students, my cherry back is much prettier than their plain maple backs. I'm really glad I didn't cave and give up on the cherry in favor of a softer wood. Believe me, it was harrowing getting it to the finished point. Many weeks I thought I'd be done, only to hand it to Violet for inspection and get a "nope, not yet" or "what's this hump here?" or "I can feel sandpaper marks"...but, I appreciate her honesty, otherwise I'd see mistakes later. Patience is tough.

After the back was finally proclaimed "finished", and after I did a exuberant victory dance, I had to go back to the sides and get them cleaned up a bit with some very fine sandpaper, then carefully measure and fit the back to the sides with clamps. Since it'd been so long since finishing the sides, they'd changed shape just a tad, so I trimmed the back just a bit for a better fit. Then, with some special fiddle glue which smelled something like dirty feet wrapped in an old dog blanket, I very carefully applied the glue and clamped (and I mean CLAMPED) the sides and back together. It was an extremely nerve-wracking day.

Once the glue was good and dry and all the friggin' clamps were removed, I could cut out the top. For this I had two pieces of sassafras wood which I'd glued together last fall since it wasn't wide enough for a one-piece. Once the top was cut, it was once again time for the fear and trepidation of using the hand-ax in order to quickly get the wood to shape:

Luckily I didn't whack off anything important, including fingers, toes, or any other appendages. Unlike the experience with ax-ing the back, this time I didn't chop off any large chunks which had to be glued back on, and soon it was ready for finer knife work.

Along with working on the back, I also started work on my fiddle neck, again out of cherry to match the back and sides. I wish I had more "in progress" pictures of it, but I wasn't actually sure it would turn out the way I wanted so I didn't bother with pics...oh well. I knew from the beginning that I wanted a unique fiddle, and that I wanted to do something different for the neck than just the traditional scroll. Violet did some of hers with a horse's head, and I thought I'd do the same. Until, that is, turkey season. You might wonder what turkey season has to do with fiddles, but turkey hunting requires a lot of time just sitting and doing nothing, which really lets your brain do some wandering. While sitting in the woods waiting on that elusive gobbler, I happened to notice an oak leaf curled up, which reminded me of a fiddle head. Viola! There's my unique idea, and here is my fiddle head. It's not quite finished...and it's of course not perfect. During it's carving I had a plethora of discouraging guesses as to what it was going to be by other people, including a manatee, a hippo, a cat, a softball, and flower. I have to say it wasn't doing much for my confidence. I wish I'd been able to curl the leaf under a bit more, because now there's a flat area that just doesn't look right. But, I'm experimenting with carving a few little acorns to glue in that flat spot, which I think is going to turn out pretty cool.

Carving a slot into which the neck fits was also an unforeseen challenge - and again it's not perfect. I keep having to remind myself that this is a learning process, and my first one WON'T be perfect, no matter how careful I am or how hard I try.

So, this is my fiddle so far...minus the top, fingerboard, tailpiece, pegs, sound peg, fine-tuners, and strings.

In case you're wondering I'm also still playing - I'm now up to 26 tunes, if you can believe it! I didn't say I played them WELL - that's still the major challenge.