Vintage Base Ball

I have just watched my first Vintage Base Ball games and loved it. As a family, we are members of a group called WOW whose duty it is to promote Westfield and bring non-profits together in that effort. We chose to participate in this Vintage Base Ball thing ever since reading the book. My wife and I participated in all of the 4 games of the first weekend as purveyors of band-aids and cold packs to all that needed them.
We had one lady cut her toe as she got out of her car and needed band-aids. We had a player attempt to catch a ball between two fingers instead of with his hand and broke a finger (ice pack time). There were other minor scrapes, cuts and boo-boo's but I won't bore you with the details. The slow times, during the games, were filled up with a Barbershop Quartet, a strolling banjo player belting out tunes from the turn of the century, Keystone Cops tossing out drunks [pretend] and rowdy patrons. A group of Suffragettes made a few appearances to broadcast their temperance, tolerance, and women rights messages and a few "dandies" strolled around adding to the flavor. The Westfield Boys and Girls club donned period attire to hock programs, food and drink. The game was played by the equipment and rules of the late 19Th century. It was quite a spectacle and all of the games were well fought to add to the enjoyment.

In the tinted photo above are daughter, son-in-law and grandson dressed in 1890's dress as they ready to head out and volunteer duties on various parts of the game.

We had Jim Bouton, pitcher [1962-1968 NY Yankees, 1969 Seattle Pilots, 1969-70 Houston Astros, 1978 Atlanta Braves] as the organizer of the event. Jim had started the Vintage Base Ball Federation and they were the sponsors of the playoffs and the World Series. Our own local team The Westfield Wheelmen were one of the World Series contenders and on the 1st week

end they played a demonstration game against Bill Lee's Green Mountain Boys from Vermont. You baseball fans will remember Bill "The Spaceman" Lee, lefty pitcher [1968-78 Boston Red Sox, 1979-82 Montreal Expos]. Bouton pitched the last several innings for the Wheelmen and the Wheelmen beat the Green MT. Boys quite handily even without Bouton pitching. The Spaceman lived up to his billing as he became upset with some heckling from the Wheelman dugout and very accurately threw a pitch into the dugout, bouncing off the back wall, next to the heckler and a bit of a nose-to-nose confrontation ensued but without punches. Bill Lee is in the right-hand picture in the green, Jim Bouton is in the black vest standing behind a vintage era cop who had just come out to stop the game because it was being played on Sunday. He gave in to the fans protests, finally and allowed the game to go on

When Jim Bouton was asked "How is vintage baseball different from the modern game?" his reply was: "In vintage baseball the games are a half hour shorter because there was no Velcro in the 19th century. And there are other modern improvements it does without. Besides no batting gloves, there are also no helmets, wrist bands, elbow pads, sunglasses, logo shoes, pajama pants, gold chains or earrings. No arguing with the umpire, stepping out of the batter's box, calling time out, charging the pitcher, posing at home plate, curtain calling, chest bumping, high fiving, pointing to the sky, or kissing jewelry. Just base ball." This was a tremendous endeavor with thousands of man-hours from the volunteers, thousands of dollars from Jim and the Federation, as well as much from the various sponsors of the games. Jim's goal and that of the Vintage Baseball Federation is to build a permanent base ball stadium in Westfield and we sure hope that works out.

Boomer and Bernie

This next story is too good for me not to post it. My lifelong friend, Signa Jean, forwarded it to me today. It is a window into the world I left behind 25 years ago. Signa Jean and her family have been our best friends for 40 years and all are now part of the family because their son married our daughter and the happy twosome live a few blocks away. We were part of that cowboy community in South Dakota, when we left for greener pastures 27 years ago. We made a brief stop in Odessa Texas, for two years and then on to New England for the rest of our lives. This story was from Cowboy Historian and Poet Baxter Black and I am sure he is a friend of Sig and her husband Dale. I've become a bit of a stuffed shirt since moving to NE and this story brought a bit of it, The cowboy life, back to me. Enjoy!


Boomer and Bernie
There's been a gradual change in the way we cowboys do things. It's come over a period of years and coincides with anti-smoking regulations, a healthier diet, mandatory seat belts, bull riders wearing helmets, gentle horse training, improved cattle handling techniques, and now allowing our dogs free run of the pickup bed when we go to town.

It was a long time before I conceded that chaining my dog in the back was the right thing to do. It was about the time I quit speeding, chewing Copenhagen and started taking an aspirin a day. As the loss of my individual freedoms began piling up, I felt less need to let my dog enjoy one of his favorite things: riding unfettered in the back of the pickup.

Bernie, too, had faced the same decisions to do what is begrudgingly safer, but usually not as much fun. In his case, he lets his good cow-dog Boomer ride in the front of the cab with him. Boomer liked it as long as he could have his window down far enough to hang out his head. One fine New Mexico morning they were driving down the Dexter highway, Bernie on the cell phone and Boomer taking in the scenery. Traffic was busy and Bernie was smack dab in the ;middle of a verbal therapy session with his banker. Suddenly the cab filled with a blizzard of old receipts, magazine scraps, ear tags, Maalox pills and a roll of survey tape.

His first thought was that Boomer had hit the electric window all the way open at 45 mph! But no, Boomer's hindquarters from the neck down ws a furious flailing of limbs scattering everything on the seat and dashboard into the air! He realized immediately that Boomer had stepped on the electric window button, but he had closed it on his neck! Bernie fought for control of his vehicle, the cellphone and the mad dog amidst the hurricane of trash that filled the air!

Then, Boomer lost control of his bowels. Digested dog chow, in several stages of viscosity joined the airborne contents in the dog blender. Swerving on the shoulder, Bernie jumped out, raced around and jerked open the door. Boomer was still attached and smacked him on the face! As Boomer dangled momentarily, a passing motorist screamed "Dog abuser!" and made an obscene gesture.

Well, Boomer got saved and Bernie now chains him in the back. He bought a gross of air fresheners to hang on the rearview mirror that smells like cooking broccoli and he is a changed man. Kinder and gentler, but more practical. Yet, the profound question that lingers in his mind every time he climbs into the pickup is, "Why didn't I lower the window from the driver's side?" Maybe it was some deep man-animal bonding conflict, or perhaps simply his vision was blurred.

Fencing is for the Dogs!

Recycling helps save the environment, especially when it comes to fences. My daughter and I have been doing that for the last 23 years. Our latest venture illustrates our efforts. We have a large side lot to our house and it is so large there is room for gardens, the carriage house, a fireplace with a covered table area, large English garden, all of our firewood storage, 50% of the parking for the office and still about 1/3 not used.

My daughter and her son lived with us about 8 years and towards the end of those years she decided that they needed a Golden Doodle for a pet. For those of you that are not familiar with those words it is a cross between a Golden Retriever and a large Poodle. Golden Doodle #1 , Golden Doodle #2 , These hyperlinks will take you back to Dec of 04, when the Golden Doodle came to my house. I wrote about Randy a lot during Dec of 04, and Jan 05, and off and on throughout the years. There were a lot of stories to write about him. Ellen got remarried and soon we had her son Sam, her new husband Mike and Randy the Golden Doodle all living with us. I build a large run for Randy and it enclosed the Majority of our side yard. Went to the Home Depot and bought 4 foot high sections of wooden fencing. Took every other fence picket out and nailed them to 2x4's making another section of fence as the fencing I bought was solid with pickets. This was my second dog run as we also had another 2 dogs at the house. Both dogs were rather small and the run wasn't very large but I took those fence sections to built the new run along with many more sections.

Eventually Sam, Mike and Ellen gathered up Randy and moved to their own house but they needed a dog run for Randy at the new house. We didn't have much use for a dog run as all we had left was Simon, a shiatsu, and there were no fences around that could contain Simon. He found a way out no matter what we did but it really didn't make any difference because when he got out he never went anywhere. So down came the fence and off to Ellen, Mike and Sam's with it. Some where along the line, Ellen and Mike picked up Boo, a Black Lab, as company for Randy. Boo has turned out to be the real escape artist. He has tunneled under the fence, gone over the fence, tunneled through the hedge that is actually part of the fence, ate his way through the fence and has escaped through every door in the house. He's good! His escapes have provided me with reasons to keep bringing more fence sections to their house instead of mine. Recently they have changed their design and made the dog run area much smaller and much easier to control but that has allowed them to store many more sections of fencing. They have a Plethora of fencing sections, you might say.

Along comes my wife and we buy a new dog. A cute, little Yorkie/Shiatsu mix who now needs a dog run at our house. My wife lays out the boundaries and I make a phone call to the kids asking for my fence back, at least the sections that they are not now using and it all magically reappears in my back yard. They even brought back the sections of pickets that Boo chewed up. Must have figured I could work it into the new design or something? Friday I started digging fence post holes again and today I started putting up fence sections. I had to completely rebuild some sections, taking off the pickets and adding them with others on new 2x4's to make a complete 8' section. I am about half done. I am never going to put this fence up again because if ever we need another I will hire some one to make and install a new fence. I purchased 24" high, green, garden wire to go around the inside of the fence with the hopes of containing Bridget but if she turns out to be as adept at the art of escape as the prior inmates have, this will turn out to be a wasted adventure on my part. Lets hope not. She probably won't be any good at escape cause after all she is a GIRL!

This is not my first foray into fence recycling as 23 years ago my daughter and I built a fence at another house we had. All in the hope of containing Cody, a master pain-in-the-butt, 1/2 rat terrier and 1/2 what ever crawled under the fence and master escape artist. Cody has since passed on but Simon apprenticed under him. We built the fence out of 1x3's with Ellen operating the radial Arm saw cutting the points and I ran the cutoff saw for length. She was 14 at the time. I can't remember how many times I moved that fence as designs and needs changed. I moved it so many times the fence just fell apart and it ended up as firewood for my wood burning stove that heated the shop. That is probably the best way to end the recycle. That brings up the point that used fencing materials make very excellent kindling for a wood stove.

Feet

Today one of our Board of Directors was in the office signing checks and our little pain-in-the-butt, Yorkie-Shiatsu, named Bridget attacked his shoes. He was wearing work shoes with laces and Bridget was trying to untie the shoes and he just ignored her. "Oh don't worry about her, my girlfriends little dog eats all of my shoe laces up, whether my feet are in the shoes or not" he ventured. "The problem is replacing the laces as 1st of all they are hard to find and secondly the colors don't seem to match," he finished. It got me to thinking about the problem of replacement laces and I too have that problem. The obvious choice is Wal-Mart or K-Mart and it doesn't usually work out. The problem is that there aren't very many shoe stores around anymore as the "Big Box Stores" have ran them out of business. JC Penny's and Sears come to mind as having shoe store within their stores and they are definitely not a good option. When was the last time you walked into a "pseudo-shoe store" and saw a foot X-Ray machine? The shoe fitting fluoroscope was a common fixture in shoe stores during the 1930s, 1940s and 1950s. A typical unit, like the Adrian machine shown here, consisted of a vertical wooden cabinet with an opening near the bottom into which the feet were placed. When you looked through one of the three viewing ports on the top of the cabinet (e.g., one for the child being fitted, one for the child's parent, and the third for the shoe salesman or saleswoman), you would see a fluorescent image of the bones of the feet and the outline of the shoes.

You just can't find a good shoe fitting fluoroscope anymore so what else is there? How about a good foot gauge along with someone that really knows how to use it. When my wife Dale and I moved to the State Capital in Pierre, SD, so that I could work for the Division of Criminal Investigation, she found work in a local Shoe Store. She knows how to use a foot gauge because they taught her. In fact she knows a lot about shoes and proper fittings. She even had her feet fluoroscoped when she was a little girl. I always wanted my feet fluoroscoped but my mother would never allow me to have it done. Didn't believe in them I guess.

I have friends out in South Dakota, at the Rushmore Mall in Rapid City, that own a real shoe store and have for years. They do really well with it. I'll bet they would have the replacement laces that I need and in the correct color. Wonder what a round trip flight would cost?

I really don't know much about shoes and I definitely don't have a foot fetish but I thought this was a good subject to write a story about. All I know about feet is that when I was 14 and a counselor at a Boy Scout Camp [Camp Old Broadaxe], I slipped on the side of the pool and ripped all of the toenails off of my foot and boy did that hurt. Said a lot of non-Boy Scout things. and 2 weeks after that I had to be in my Brother Bill's wedding. My Mom had to buy me two pair of shoes because one of the shoes had to be large enough to hold the lambs wool that protected my toes. 2 weeks after that football started. Jeez!

More Hair

It is amazing how much mileage you can get out of a little hair growth. I start most conversations with “Have I told you that I am growing new hair?” and it seems to get an interesting conversation off and running. My wife is getting tired of hearing it but she did suggest “Lets ‘spike’ your hair for a different look and I’ve got some hair gel upstairs that you can use.” I was all for it. I told my grandson Sam that “when it gets long enough I’m going to wear it in a pony tail”. “no you won’t”, he intones before glancing up from his ‘Game-Boy. “What makes you so sure?” I ask. Shaking his head in disgust, he coolly responds as he goes back to his game-boy, “Because your from South Dakota”.

Went to my Dentist yesterday because I was getting some false teeth fitted and he said that he would be more interested, in my story, if I found a way to grow teeth. Looking at my mouth it was pretty obvious that I hadn’t found a way yet. I don’t like false teeth but I will admit that it looks better than no teeth. I’m only missing three in front but I need to have them adjusted because they hurt a little bit. Guess I will have to get out my Dremel tool and go after them.

You will notice, by the photo, that we have a new addition to the family. This one is a she and her name is Bridget. ½ Yorkshire and ½ Shiatsu and there is absolutely nothing she can do. Scarred to death of her shadow and every noise that there is. We have her enrolled in “Puppy Kindergarten” and she has been to four classes and can’t do even one trick. Talk about throwing good money after bad. Her one redeeming quality is that she hassles Purrsey, the cat, on a constant basis.

I'm growing hair again

Yup, it's true. I'M GROWING HAIR again. I have not had any hair, to speak of, for the past 20 years and here I am growing new hair on my head, right out of the blue. We all just noticed my head, yesterday, so it is a rather new phenomena and I feel that I should share it with the world. My sister-in-law is a Barber and for the past 25 years has cut my hair and she gave me my last hair cut on Sunday but didn't notice my new follicles but my wife did. There is so little hair, up there, that she cuts if for free. My wife said that she noticed my hair was 'fuzzy' since my last cut. My daughter said my hair appears thicker. On the front of my head I have one, long, hair that is definitely Brown in color, not white like all of the rest, and it is constantly hanging down in front of my eyes. I constantly have to toss my head to keep it out of my eyes. Sometimes I just sweep it back with my hand but it falls back in front of my eyes. Long hair is such as hassle.

I don't know where this sudden growth is coming from but I would bet it has something to do with the medication I am on. Who cares, just as long as it is growing. The past 40 years, people have always had something to say about my fading locks and it was usually someone with a full head of hair. Well I will not stand around and let people kick sand in my face any more. Mr Nice is taking the gloves off. I am going to go out and find a few of those "tricksters" who have since had their golden locks fall and kick a little sand of my own.

At supper tonight, we were discussing my situation and I asked my Grandson Sam what he thought. Sam is now 10 and he looked up from his gaming device and slowly perused my head and at the end he switched his gaze back to the gaming screen and casually said "Hope your hair comes in full by the time I leave the house!". I think it is coming in quicker than that.

I know that most of you don't find this as earth-shattering news but just realize what I am going through: I have to spend more money on hair care products; Plugging the bathtub drain might sometimes be my fault; Tomorrow night I think I will spend the evening comparing hair blowers; I am actively comparing hair colors. Oh ya, that first picture of before and after isn't really me. I don't think I have that much hair yet. We're doing our own before and afters and will post the photo's when there is a difference to show. Shouldn't be very long.

Maple Sugar time again.

Last year at this time we traveled to the Pomeroy Sugar House on the other side of Westfield, for Breakfast. On last years trip took along Flat Stanley for an adventure. You might want to take a look at the Flat Stanley link because I included pictures last year. Pancakes with sausage and homefries, all covered with lots of Freshly made Pure Maple Syrup and lots of coffee to wash it all down. What can be better than that? Its really great to live in New England.

Pomeroy's Sugar House is on line if you want some information about them. Just click on the Sugar House Hyperlink. In case you might want some more Maple taste I am providing one of the Pomeroy's own recipes. I have tried it and it was excellent.
Maple Cream Cheese Pie
1 9" Graham Cracker Pie Crust
1 8oz. package of cream cheese
1 can Sweetened Condensed Milk
1/3 cup Lemon Juice
2 Tablespoons Maple Syrup

Beat Cream Cheese until fluffy; add Condensed Milk, Lemon Juice and Maple Syrup. Beat well. Pour into prepared Pie Crust and chill.

Topping:
1 Cup Maple Syrup
1/2 cup Water
1 Egg
1 1/2 tablespoon Corn Starch mixed in 1/4 cup of Water.
Bring Maple Syrup, water, beaten egg and cornstarch (dissolved in 1/4 cup of water) to a boil. Cook until thickened. Cool and spread on top

of Pie. Garnish with chopped nuts. Chill and serve.

Photo is Randy feeding the firewood into the evaporator. I hijacked this phot0 from the Pomeroy's web site.

Neat Photo

Thought that I might throw this picture in today. This is what my windshield looked like this morning at 8am. Yesterday at 8 it was 0 degrees and this morning it was 40. The sun was rising directly behind my truck so even though the temp was 40, the windshield was not directly in the sun. This was all ice crystals and it all quickly disappeared with one shot of windshield washer solution.

MSU or Uof M, what gives?

This posting is because I was challenged on what I said in an older posting "My Bear Killer": It was a gun posting about my Colt single action frontier scout .22 LR and in it I said "When I was off to college at Montana State University at Missoula, my Colt went with me." Then today I got a comment from Kerry who said "Just a technicality...but MSU is and always has been Montana State University in Bozeman. It is the rival school of University of Montana in Missoula. Because we are rivals we are a little sensitive about the common mix up". I sat in front of my computer screen trying to figure that out for a while and so I Googled Montana State University and it was obvious that MSU was in Bozeman Montana, not Missoula where I went to school. I went to school there 45 years ago and memories do fade and maybe I am getting the early stages of "Old Timers" disease just like my wife is always saying. I know 45 years is a long time but... So I went searching for my yearbook and there it was, right on the cover "Sentinel '62 Montana State University Missoula", on page 11 was The MSU-MSC Game at Bozeman. I was there as I took the pictures as yearbook photographer. The photo's were Extchrome taken with a 4x5 Graflex 'Press' camera. They were the first large format color photos I had taken as each slide was very expensive. MSU (Missoula) lost by one point to MSC (Bozeman). I was vindicated but what happened. We were the proud MSU GRIZZLES of the old Skyline Conference and someone came along and took all of that away and gave Missoula a different name, University of Montana. I remember a basketball game when our center, Steve Lowry battled "Bill the Hill McGill from Utah" in a classic basketball game. Is that gone also? They took Bozeman's name, MSC, away and gave them another name. Both MSU and MSC probably did something to tick off the state legislature and they then showed them by changing their name. Who became MSC if MSC was changed to MSU? Back in the "Old Days" State Legislatures worried about having three or four types of schools of higher learning spread across their state: State Teachers College; State College which held the Agricultural College; a University for a broader based education; a forth type would be a school of mines. Maybe that explains it. If you know what happened how about dropping me a comment.

Ghosts in my Belfry

A wee bit of background is necessary in this story or you might just get the idea at I am a bit whacked, which I am not. Old but not yet whackey. My wife would have something different to say about that, I think. Last year I wrote an article about our cemetery being haunted or not and you might want to revisit the posting. My wife and I are cemetery superintendents and live across the street from the cemetery. Both of us are very skeptical when it comes to ghost stories and haunting. We have our share of Wikens and Warlocks that visit our cemetery on a frequent basis and all claim the cemetery is haunted. I don't think so but...

Our house was built in 1830, or there about, and is a two story. The house is actually made up of an original house and two more houses that were added by being moved in and attached. Hardly any rooms have the same heights for floors and ceilings as a result. One of the move-in houses came from the same street as David the Ghost's house, mentioned below.

We have several people buried in the cemetery that are reportedly haunting the homes in which they died. That must mean they are not haunting our cemetery. A few years ago I was the Maintenance Supervisor for a large area company and one of my buildings was a beautiful, turn-of-the-century old mansion. It was owned by a very prominent family and we have lots of plots in the cemetery that holds them and their relations, including one that holds David who committed suicide. David was a third generation member living in the family estate and was basically alone in the home. He was also broke, as the story goes. One night David crawled into the upstairs bathtub and slit his wrists. A housekeeper found him the next day. Supposedly, David's body went to Pine Hill Cemetery but his spirit stayed at the house, roaming the halls and rooms, always looking for something. On at least 20 occasions, young women reported, to me, the difficulties that they were having with David's ghost. Lights were turned on and off, doors were left open or closed, and on occasion, David could be seen rocking in a chair in the cupola. One night we had a security problem with one of our locked rooms and I was notified of the problem. The office had been trashed, files thrown everywhere, and the desktop had been wiped clean. I found out that one of our Engineers had been in the office a few hours earlier. When I confronted him he admitted unlocking the office but when he found it trashed he simply locked it back up and returned to his office. I asked him why he didn't report it and he replied, "Because David did it". The next morning I had the young engineer, his boss David and another person in the office trying to sort it all out. I told them that this was a very serious event that had occurred and I told David that his young Engineer had implicated him and did he have anything to say. After several pregnant seconds, the young Engineer blurted out " not this David, the ghost David did it"! Foolish me. I went into a tirade and was very disrespectful to young Engineers and to ghosts.

Little did I know that David would eventually come to my house and haunt it. I'm trying to show him the way to his grave but I don't seem to know how to do that. It appears that I am the only person that sees these apparitions and when I mention to my wife that I just saw someone walk into the parlor or saw a car go by our window she always replies "Of course you did dear". The apparition never stops and visits but it is always later in the evening when I experience this phenomenon. I don’t really know if it is David or just another run-of-the-mill ghost because we never talk. May be there is something wrong with my eyes and I should go see an eye Doc. I am just assuming that the specter is David. The only way that I know how to get David to where he belongs is to hold a séance. Hmmm…

We get our vaults from a company called Wilbert Vault out of Springfield. We order them one by one, as the need arises, and when they come with them they place them in the evacuated hole for us. The driver with this one arrived to early and we were still just defrosting the ground to be able to dig. He wanted to know where he could leave it until we were ready for it. I told him "anywhere along the road as we are not using the area for burials". He chose this spot, on top of a dirt pile to be funny, I assume. Looks kinda like the New Orleans area after a flood. The driver that came later to set the vault was not very amused as he had a really tough time getting it off the pile.

Drug Store musings

A Drug Store is still a Drug Store,Right? Does this one look like one you had in your home town? Looks just like the one we had and it was called Urton's Rexall Drug. We had another Drug Store in town called Sturgis Drug and it was owned by our next door neighbor. We never went there but I don't know why. Urtons was our drug store. Being a budding young photographer, I purchased my first 35mm camera at Urton's and they developed all of my photographs there. Before I bought my camera I was in to developing Black and Whites and then to enlarging and everything was bought at Urtons including my enlarger. From the Pharmacists I got excellent advice about how to develop film and printing pictures. It was all part of his job I guess. At this time I also had my basement chemistry set up and running and so my buddy Steve and I were always in the store soliciting information and advice, such as making explosives. The ingredients for gunpowder are charcoal, sulfur and saltpeter and we bought it all from our friendly Rexall Drug store as well as buying glass wear and other chemicals. Prophylactics were kept on shelves next to where the druggists worked and it was where I would always stand when I came in to visit. The prophylactic corner. I spent hours there.

Urtons was always on my Christmas shopping tour as it was a great source for everyone. After my wife and I were married, I purchased hair car items for her at Rexall as Christmas presents. 1st year I purchased a plastic box that had a cord you plugged in and it heated up the hair curlers inside. Next I purchased a portable hair dryer, just like a professional one, and I remembered it looked like a space helmet. I also bought a ton of Auqua Velva and Old Spice for my Dad and Brothers. It was a great store. I can still, in my mind, wander up and down the aisles. Rexall in the U.S. disappeared around 1977 but still remains strong in Canada.

Today, Dale and I went to a grand opening for a new CVS drug store in town. We had an existing CVS that was OK but someone decided we needed a fancy smancy CVS so we got a new one. Back in the pharmacy area, I stood watching the three pharmacists hastily filling orders still trying to figure out the new system and I noticed that there was no where that I would be able to go to visit with one of them for a couple of hours. The only area that was available was at the counter that had a huge "CONSULTATIONS" sign over it. There wasn't even an area that had prophylactics on the shelves where I could stand but those are kept up front now days any way. Everything changes. They sell food in these "new" Drug Stores, just like a grocery store. They publish the good deals in a flyer for the Sunday papers. I watch it a little bit, and did you know you can buy Jello for about 30 cents a box when it is on sale? Not bad. They also sell clothing and have specials alot, on T shirts. They all compete very strongly with their photo departments and it makes picture takin pretty cheap for all of us and I do appreciate it. I have been transferring some of my slides from the 60's over to regular prints so I can scan them and put them in this blog for all the world to see. Our Drug Store is Walgreens and the last time I went in with some slides, the kid behind the counter said "give me 5 minutes" and when I came back, he handed me my prints. Super!!

All of the aisles were well lit and airy but I felt like I was on camera. There was one of those up where you came into the store. You know, one with a screen right beside it so you can see the top of your head as you come in. That is probably there as a customer courtesy so you can check your hair to see if it is wind blown or something. I don't have much hair but what I do have tends to blow easily and stands straight up in the air. People are always running their hand through their hair and looking at my hair as if they want me to do the same. I usually comply and then we all laugh nervously and say something stupid about my hair. I appreciate those cameras and monitors. They did have nice furniture, in the pharmacy area, so I could sit down and wait if I chose. I chose to leave as suddenly the entire thing didn't sound or look right. May be I am just getting old. I miss the orange and blue and the old Drug Stores. May be I'll go over to The Home Depot and whine a bit.

Sleep Apnea

Sleep Apnea is a condition where you literally stop breathing. "Apnea" is a Greek word meaning "without breath".Those with apnea literally stop breathing in their sleep. Typically the soft tissue, in the rear of the throat, collapses and closes the airway so that victims of sleep apnea stop breathing repeatedly during sleep; as frequently as a hundred times an hour and as little as five to seven times an hour. Snoring is a cardinal sign that Sleep Apnea may exist. Consequences of untreated sleep apnea include: Falling asleep during the day-at-work, driving a motor vehicle, etc; Morning headaches; Loss of energy; Trouble concentrating; Irritability, short temper; Forgetfulness; Mood or behavior changes; Anxiety or depression; Decreased interest in sex; Death. I am not trying to sound like a billboard for Sleep Apnea but before I was diagnosed I couldn't even pronounce Apnea let alone know what it meant. according to my Doc, what happens is you go to sleep and your tongue etc all relax and close off your throat. Your body sends a signal to your brain that you need air and it in turn fires up your adrenal gland which sends out adrenaline which wakes you up which unrelaxes your tongue, etc. and opens up your throat letting air flow. You are now awake but you won't remember it. Something like that happens anyway. My Dr. said that my sleep test showed me to be as high as 70 times per hour. He said I had a severe case of sleep apnea and CPAP therapy was necessary and had anyone ever told me that I was developing Cataracts. Just what I needed, something else wrong with me. What a day.

The photo is one that I got off the net and shows a typical mask and user. This should drive my wife away for sure. The thing is she has sleep apnea also and is taking her Sleep Test next week. We should look cute, in bed, with our matching masks. Intimacy might be a problem. She found out she had sleep apnea when she had her last breast surgery. The Surgeon didn't realize she had it and told her afterwards that they thought they were going to have to jump start her as they had just administered an anaesthetic to her and she stops breathing. Little bit of panic there.

My Dr. said I was pretty old for just being diagnosed and wanted to know how my Dr. figured it out. My Dr. is really a Physician's Assistant and during one of my appointments we were talking about dreams and I told him I often dreamed about drowning and being in a tunnel of sand and it was slowly collapsing. After that session he set me up for a sleep study. My Apnea Dr. said he did very good picking up on it. My PA also picked up on my heart problems when I came in for a shoulder injury because he thought that some of my pains were a little close to the chest and he made me go see a cardiologists. Good PA! I am just now getting treatment for the shoulder injury, but that is a different story.

Rudely Awoke

This morning at 6am I found myself napping on my recliner in the living room. Normally I am up at 5 for the day but today I woke as normal and decided to catch a few more hours of sleep. I didn't need to do things until 8am and a few extra hours wouldn't hurt me. I covered myself with a blanket that my daughter had given me for Christmas. Suddenly a dog landed on my stomach and it was Maggie. Well isn't that cute, she wants to sleep with me? I slid over, in the chair, to make room for her as I petted her. It was at this time that she went "eurppp" and threw-up on me and the chair and my blanket. She then jumped down (wise choice) and threw up on the floor. I retrieved a roll of paper towels from the kitchen and started the clean up process. I heard a noise and looked over at the couch and there was Maggie, curled up in a ball, sound asleep and snoring.

If you look back at a couple of earlier posting you will know that Maggie is not ours but a friend's who is vacationing in Arizona. The dog is a little bit different and has been fun. She wears a full dog collar and still doesn't really like it so as she wears it she shakes a lot trying to get rid of it. She starts with a slow roll to the left and then a slow roll to the right, it is almost like she is winding up to shake. Then shakes so hard she sometimes falls over. Funny! Since she has been here she has learned to get along with the cat, Purrcy or is that the cat has decided to let her live. Anyway the two like to chase each other. This picture is a chase photo as the cat is stalking the dog and as I took the photo the cat attacked batting the dog in the head about 10 times before the dog could respond and then the chase was on. Time to come back and claim your dog Georgette.

Maggie is back for a while

Maggie is back for a while. His Mom left on vacation for a couple of weeks and we are providing an alternative to the Kennel. Simon likes the new arrangements but Purrsey is being a bit standoffish. Purrsey has taken up residence at the top of the stairs where he can survey his kingdom even if it means flashy red eyes while on Maggie watch.

Simon has done much better sharing things. The next photo shows the two greeting each other again. Went OK as no one got hurt. This new dog is spending her time searching the house, looking for Mom, I would judge, all the while letting out little yelps. {Sorry Georgette} She will get over it by tomorrow and start settling in. When she normally travels around the house she makes more noise than three dogs snorting, yelping and breathing hard. The only problem we have seen so far is that she constantly travels in a cloud of gas. Anyway, welcome Maggie, if you get too lonesome or restless we can always take you down to Sam, Mike and Ellen's house to spend the day with Randy and Boo.

Teeth problems

There is no better feeling than when all of the pain goes away as in "Teeth". It starts out with and abscessed tooth that causes terrible pain and you fight it with all sorts of things such as aspirin, Tylenol, Advil and maybe even all three at once as you work up to the old wives tales looking for a solution that will allow you to concentrate on something other than your tooth. You even contemplate pulling the tooth yourself. I had a friend that did that for real. He, also, was going to deliver their first baby because he had already done it 100's of times with cows, so how tough could that be. You can guess who won that discussion. They used to always do that in the "Good Old Days" and that was before Novocaine. So whats the big deal? I'm just as tough as they were so I should be able to do it myself, also. Right? Its called hallucinating. Hell no you can't do it yourself. You would pass out when you saw the extraction tools and the doorknob trick only works with kids teeth. Hopefully your dentist is as accommodating as mine was and gets you in right away to at least look and give you a prescription to take the pain and the poison away, i.e. Tylenol with CODEINE and penicillin tablets.

As I sat in the waiting room at 9am the following morning, I started to get the cold sweats. I wasn't worried about the tooth as the pain was almost gone but I was worried about the upcoming procedure. No. 1, I knew I was going to get a lecture from the good Doctor for missing my last few scheduled cleanings and canceling my visit to have a small filling. That small filling was probably this big problem I have right now. #2, I have had teeth pulled before and I kinda knew what to look forward to and I knew these two were going to be problems. As you probably can guess, by this time I was sweating more and more in anticipation of the doom awaiting me in the next room. My mind starts flashing back to bad, older, dental experiences. I dwell for a while on my first dentist in his office with the slow speed drill. The drill was a series of pulleys with leathers going from pulley to pulley starting at a motor on the floor and ending at the dentist drill. The motor turned a leather string up to the first pulley and then on to the next pulley unitl it reached the actual drill. It was a horrible machine as it slowly ground away the decayed parts of my teeth. My dentist was a nice man as he would always tell me a few stories about gun collecting. He collected guns associated with historical characters. He personaly owned one of Wild Bill Hitchcock's colt 45's. The drill sounded like a slow speed Dremel tool and it would slow right down as he started drilling and then almost stop so he would pull it away from the tooth until it got back to speed and then start again.

The next dentist that I could roll around in my mind was a young Dentist located just off campus, where I was going to college. He was about the only one it town that was taking new patients and I soon found out why he had openings. He decided that I needed a root canal for my decayed tooth and I don't think he had ever done one before mine. During the drilling process of removing the roots of my tooth from the inside, he hit something that caused me the most pain I have ever endured. It caused me to break out in a 100% instant sweat and as I laid in the chair completely soaked he said "that shouldn't of happened because you don't have any roots left down there." When he was finishing the root canal, he filled the tooth and put a temporary cap on it and sent me home with a prescription for codeine and a phone number list of where he would be that evening in case I had problems. I caught up with him at the movie theater and he came back and drilled out the filling that night as I couldn't stand the pain. Must have left his watch down there or something. Twice during the drilling process he lost drill bits. He;d say "Freeze, don't move" and go and retrieve the bit. The second time he had to grab it with a magnet as it was partially down my throat. I have never even considered a root canal since. Dr Bonkowski didn't do any such thing. He simply pulled the offending teeth with the minimal amount of pain possible and sent me off with good scripts to alleviate any future pain and to speed healing. Thank heaven for good Dentists.

As I set here writing this I am completely pain free and except for a big hole in my mouth all things are back to normal. When I started this post I said "There is no better feeling than when all of the pain goes away as in 'Teeth'." As I was researching this posting I came across a neat article on "Tooth Jumping" that is interesting reading. Just click the Mountain News hyperlink. Smokey MT. News, Mountain News .

Buddies

Just waiting for some action outside so that they can start barking, meowing and scratching to go out!

07 A better year?

I thought for sure that 2007 had to be a better year, especially for me with a 06 heart attack. The weather has been glorious as we have yet to see a real snowflake and tomorrow is to be 64. It has made it possible for us to get lots of work done in our cemetery and we are even still getting new grass on graves to grow. Health wise it hasn't been as rosy as today I spent my morning having my teeth pulled. Two of my front teeth are abscessed and had to come out. It kinda sneaked up on me because of the medication I was taking for my heart, my sleep problem and prostate problems. I had one day of bad pain and my Dentist agreed to come in today [Friday is normally his day off] and pull the offending suckers. The two teeth were side by side and the 1st one came out with very few problems. The second tooth was a different animal all together. The root was about 1" long and the tooth had a lot of decay which lent it very capable of breaking at the gum line and would require major work if it did. Dr Bonkowski kept loading me up with more and more Novocain as I kept getting very intense pain as extraction was attempted. Finally, at one point, I said "go ahead and pull it Doc as I am sure I can tough it out for a couple of intense moments". Brave of me as I am the biggest wimp ever when it comes to teeth pain. Dr Bonkowski replied "no patient of mine will ever go through all of that pain with what we have available to deaden the pain". I don't know what he did but he managed to deaden the pain source and pull the tooth without me crying. There are good dentists in this world and then their are great dentists. Joe is one of the greats. He wrote me a prescription for 10 Oxycodone tablets and sent me on my way with a handful of 2x2 absorbent pads. I just had a bowl of soup and a bowl of chocolate pudding when I received a call from the good Dr. checking up on me.

This whole incident set us back $400. A few minutes ago my wife called and said that she was stopped at a stop light for entrance to the Mass Pike and was rear-ended by a 3/4 ton Dodge pickup. The rest of the family was in the van as they were heading out for supper and no one was hurt. The hell with worrying about what 07 brings us and I think we will just worry about what tomorrow brings. Maggie's mommy brought her by today so she could poop and pee on the office floor and spend time getting to know Dale and I think she is coming to stay for a week or so next week.

Bench and Turkey

My friend T.F.Stern from T F Stern's Rantings left me a comment yesterday on my Jerky posting and I thought I could elaborate on it a bit.
T. F. Stern said...
"Ted, Just noticed that the piece of furniture is nearly identical to one we have. My folks gave it to us when they sold their Houston house and went to Florida."
7:27 PM

I decided to include a photo, sans the destroyed goodies, so readers would know what we were talking about.


This is what we call a New England bench and they are all basically the same except they are all hand painted so each is different. I don't know if there is another name for these benches. We were dropping clothing and some furniture off at our local Salvation Army store and decided to stroll around a bit, as we did. We frequently drop things off there but never go inside as I guess we were embarrassed to be seen shopping there or something. Glad we did as we picked up the bench for $25 or $30 and then we found 6 stools at $5 each for our eating bar in the kitchen. We had been looking for a long time for the right stools and there they were. I also found a goose down vest for work at about $3. We ring the bell for them at Christmas and through various fund raisers we work with, The Salvation Army is always on the top of the list. The Salvation Army provides screening services for recipients of Christmas presents our groups give. The Salvation Army provides screening services for us for food and financial help to the needy. By purchasing items from their store we provide working capital for paying the clerks and management to keep the store open. It is a win-win situation.

T.R.Stern, by having that bench just might prove that you are really displaced "Snow Bunnies" hiding out in Houston. Just an observation that the ex-cop, in me, brings out from time to time. Sorry.

The dogs did it again!

The dogs did it again By helping our daughters family enjoy their Christmas presents. It seems that Mikes family sent out some of their presents UPS and they sent them early, I might add. Mike Ellen and Sam live on a corner and the UPS driver delivered them to the back of the house instead of the front and put them on the back steps. He went through the gate to get to the steps. The gate is in the fence that keeps the dogs from running wild and they were in the garage sleeping at the time. They awoke and checked out the packages and went Wahoo! Inside of one of the packages was a case of World Famous, Bear Butte brand, Sturgis SD beef jerky . They ate it all making quick work of the packaging, as you might tell from the photos. Boo, the black Lab, probably ate the most because he had a powerful thirst that night when his masters came home (the jerky is a little bit salty). They took the dogs for walks but through the front door and never noticed the destruction out back. Don't stop reading yet as the devastation is not over yet. The dogs sleep in an upstairs, walk-in closet off of Sam's room. Randy sleeps on the floor and Boo inside a cage as he tends to wander a lot and besides he likes the security. Well, Boo's powerful thirst, alluded to earlier, transformed itself into an awful lot of Pee later on in the night. Boo's cage has a plastic bottom to it and he quickly filled it up, about 1" deep. That left no where for him to sleep so he just laid down in the cage. When Ellen got him out so he could go out, the next morning, she let him out of the cage and what is a Dog to do except shake himself and get the pee off of his coat. Shake all over the clothes in the closet and all over Ellen and all over downstairs as he headed for the door. The packaging has been transferred to our house [because someone is usually home] as we await the insurance inspector. Everyone should have a couple of big dogs in their house to help them keep a tidy house.

HAPPY NEW YEAR FROM NEW ENGLAND!!

They came back!

Our daughter, husband and grandson are out of their house and back with their two big Dogs Boo and Randy. I don't want to make it sound like they got evicted or anything but they had Asbestos Abaters at their house removing the nasty stuff from their old water boiler in preparation of receiving a new one. It was an old H.B.Smith coal boiler. A brief sidelight is in order at this juncture as HB Smith boilers were built here in Westfield and they were the top of the line, sold all over the world. If you have an old boiler it just might be and HB Smith. Recently the company was sold and the site is now a modern Supermarket. The Smith brothers owned the company in the 1850's and early 1900's and they and their respective families are buried in our cemetery, Pine Hill. One had a daughter who was the 1st child buried in this cemetery and we recently buried the last of the original family line, Edwin Smith who was in our church, a friend of ours and a member of our Board of Directors. Back to my story. Their particular boiler had been converted to gas but was highly inefficient. Their heating bill last year was $5,000. Time for a change so they have opted for a new, modern, high efficiency boiler. They left the house because of the asbestos removal being underway and their heat had been turned over for about 36 hours.

The two dogs would be much to much for our little Simon and Purrsey so we removed them to our office, next to the house and hoped they wouldn't rebel very much and cause very much damage. Boo and Randy arrived with a flourish and took over the house as they searched for the dog and cat. One of them even pooped in the dining room. At one point they started circling inside our house in a game of tag and my wife was standing at the kitchen counter as the two came charging by. They almost broke her in half at the knees. The next morning they exited as they had came, in a flourish. Most of the time they were here Boo cried because it was his first time away from home [except the night he spent in jail].

I let our dog and cat out from their temporary quarters and Simon rushed to the house to find all of the possible odors the two interlopers may have left. Purrsey treated it as a military mission and slunk all of the way to the house. Smelling, hiding, waiting. It had to take him 10 minutes to get over the threshold. It was a little traumatic for them but not nearly as much had we left them in the house to put up with the two monsters. It has been an interesting few hours.

Straighten up because I'm coming to visit for a few weeks!

Don't stand on the rope!

My dad thought it was time that my 19 year old butt needed some good education, in the woods, learning to be a man instead of a teenage drunk. I had spend the past year going to Forestry School at the University of Montana in Missoula and had managed to be on academic probation (0.4 on a 5 point system) as I had flunked everything except bowling 1 and 2. I was also on social probation because of drinking.That 1st day on the job on the sawmill woods crew would be a real lesson in life for me. The day before I had been at the McCullough Chain Saw store and bought a brand new, full brim, yellow, metal hard hat and I put 2 MSU stickers on the sides. The foreman picked me up the next morning at 4:30 AM because we had a one hour drive to the timber sale. Our chariot was an old International 4x4 with a crew cab. It was Air Force blue because my Dad had bought if at an auction from the Air Force. When he bought the truck it had 135,000 miles on it and our foreman Burt said they had just put another 100,000 miles on it since they had it. Other passengers were Bob who had worked in the woods for years and was our chief road builder meaning he operated the old (1942) Cat D-8 cable dozer or a logging truck. Bob had previously been a fireman at the Air Force base where he drove their Redox crash truck. Before that Bob had been in the Army in Korea. Interesting guy. Our other passenger was Tom and he was the Jammer operator. Tom had moved here from Oregon where he had spent most of his life in the woods and his son and I graduated from High School together the year before.He was some type of offbeat religion that didn't tolerate swearing and he evangelized once in the while. Tom also didn't change his trousers very often. His trousers were all wool and were very traditional lumberjack and they were full of pitch and grease. The crew joke was that when he took them off at night they just stood up by themselves. Tom wore a pair of corks which were high topped logging boots with steel pins on the bottom so he could walk on logs without falling off. Burt, the foreman, was another that had spent his life in the woods. Like Bob, Burt operated anything that needed to be operated or fixed. Burts daughter and I graduated from High School together. Burts face told a lot of painful stories as it was wrinkled and full of crags and pock marks and a whole bunch of small scars. Burts hands were the most powerful I had ever shook. Burt was the antithesis of a German woodsman. Burt, Mel and Bob (not the one I was riding with this day but Bob the mill foreman) had all been with my father since the first sawmill back in Galena. When Dad started that sawmill he offered all three of them equal partnerships in the mill. They all refused and wanted only to work for wages. They had all been togther in the CCC's (Civilian Conservation Corps). My father was as tough and rugged as these three were because when he and my Mom got married they moved to the Southern Black Hills for work. He built their first house out of logs. My mothers Brother-in-laws were in the logging and saw milling business in that area. He worked as a contractor for one of them cutting railroad ties. You did that with a double bitted axe to cut the trees down and a Broad axe with which you made the sides straight. They had to weigh 190# when wet. Tough life and I was now right in the middle of it. The expectations were high for me by my Father.

We pulled off the road on to one of our logging roads for a ways and then Burt stopped the truck and got out crawling into the back bed of the truck. There was an old brown and rusted job type box and he lifted up the cover and took something out. When he went by the truck I saw the words DANGER EXPLOSIVES on a large wooden box. My heart stopped but then I noticed that the box was all beat up and oil stained. I figured it was tools or something. Burt went up the road about 30 feet and turned a corner. Shortly Burt came back without the box and climbed back in. He lit a cigarette and took a small book out of his pocket and started to write. Suddenly the forest exploded and I think it was the loudest noise I had ever heard. Tom said, under his breath, "Fire in the hole". Burt hollard "everyone out and look for sticks". I shouted "what sticks" because I was all frazzled knowing I had been sitting about 6" from that dynamite and Burt explained that he had just blown up a box of last years dynamite that had sat in the tool box all winter and when it freezes and thaws out all winter it crystallizes and becomes a little touchy, a little bit unstable. So, you get rid of it and were looking for loose sticks that might have blown out and didn't explode. Didn't need any damn kids finding them now did we? After looking for 15 minutes or so we got back in the truck and head for the sale we were working. When we drove up we parked in front of a large log truck which was backed up to what looked like the ugliest crane I had ever seen. The driver was sitting on a pile of logs, reading the morning paper and had a cup of coffee in his hand. Burt introduced us and the driver got up as Burt extended his hand to help him up. His name was Paul and he was crippled and it looked to me like he had polio or something. I had seen a lot of that when I was a kid. Tom was in the cab trying to coax the old crane truck into some more life. Bob soon came by with the pickup battery and a set of battery cables and he and Tom finally got the Jammer started for one more day. The Jammer, was an old logging truck that had been retired from my fathers log hauling fleet and converted to a log loader or jammer. It had been an old GMC cab-over and now didn't have any doors or fenders and had been given the name Smokey. There was no room for a passenger as the seat and floor boards had been converted over to carrying spare parts and lots of tools. All were perched as if they wanted to fall out with any type of bump. On the back of the truck, just behind the cab, was mounted and old truck frame with pins so it could go up and down. On top of that was mounted a big spool of cable and this spool had a chain and sprocket on one end which was somehow hooked up to the power take off which was now running and singing as Tom oiled it. The frame had a couple of I beams welded to the end which was now up in the air reaching out over the top of the logging truck. The cable, from the spool below, ran through a chive or pulley on the end of the extended frame and terminated into some fittings that allowed for two other cables, each about 15 feet, to run through and each of these cables held a large metal hook assembly with a rope hooked up on the end. Up where the end of the frame was, a platform had been built complete with 2 long levers (a clutch and brake) and what appeared to be an accelerator pedal. As Tom climbed up to his perch Burt picked up a hook and hollarded at Steve (crippled truck driver) "grab your hook Steve looks like were ready". Burt started explaining to me the fine points of being a "Hooker" and how the system worked. 10 trucks a day were needed, in the mill every day, to keep it operating and that means that each of the 5 trucks would do one turn around and that would be 10 loads. If trucks broke down we would put our company trucks on the job until any backlogs were cleared up. What it meant for me was I was loading 10 trucks a day and I really needed to hustle. Burt loaded a couple of logs for me and I watched as he held the hook at the end of the log, as did the driver on the other end. Tom would release the brake, release the clutch and accelerate.Picture is of Ivans truck being pushed out of mud by Bob with our D-6 dozer As the cable went taught, the hooks were set in the log ends and Tom accelerated and the logs flew up over the stakes and onto the load where needed, guided by the hookers with their ropes. As the log reached its destination and the cable went slack, the hookers jerked on the hooks and took them over the stakes when Tom pushed the clutch in and the drum freewheeled allowing the men to guide their hooks to the next log. "Piece of cake" I said to Burt as he handed me the rope. "Don't stand on the rope" he answered and I silently said "Duh." The engine roared and my first log slipped effortlessly over the stakes. I tried to pull the rope out to fast and managed to turn the log on the truck bed. Tom jumped down onto the load, from his perch with a cant hook in hand and rolled the log into position. The next log went better and soon the truck was loaded. You really had to be quick because those logs flew over the stakes. They had to or we wouldn't ever get all of the trucks loaded. I quickly learned that when the driver hollars "CHAINS" you duck and get the Hell out of the way because about 30# of chains are actually following his voice and he came around and showed me how to help him get the chains so he could get the logs locked in (boomered) and get away as two more trucks were waiting in the background and time was money. It was an interesting job, slightly dangerous, and I liked all of the drivers even it they busted me because I was the bosses son. I was holding my own. The logs, which were in 10' to 16' lengths were decked along side the logging roads by skidders and thier teams of horses. We were always walking on top of those log decks and you always had to be aware of shifting logs and rattlesnakes as this was good rattlesnake country. Sometimes a log would come out of one of its hooks on the way up and you always needed to be ready to jump out of the way. Burt came back as we were loading our 5th truck and it would be time for lunch and I was starved. Mom had my lunch ready when I got up this morning and it contained 2 fried pork chops,two pieces of buttered bread, a tub of apple sauce and a nice sized piece of homemade apple pie for desert. I could hardly keep my mind off of my lunch, I was so hungry. We were loading the last few logs out of the deck and I was grateful to be walking on solid ground. I could feel Burts steely gaze as he watched me perform. Our last log was going up and Tom was accelerating very quickly to clear the stakes and I could feel myself lifting off of the ground, I lost my hold on the rope and was propelled backwards about 20' and upwards at a high rate of speed. I wound up at the rear of the, now removed, log deck smack dab in a small grove of aspin trees. My hard hat was gone and it felt like I lost all of my teeth. When I got my bearings I saw Burt leaning over the top of me with his hands on his knees. I didn't know what happened until I heard Burt say "I told you not to stand on the rope!"

Jobs at the Sawmill - Part II

As I aged I got more and more different jobs. I graduated from rock picker and sticker boy to jobs that changed daily. My first serious construction job came when I was assigned to the concrete crew of the construction company building homes. My first job was to feed the cement mixer. Three gravel, two sand and one cement. We had a large mixer that someone else operated as my job was just to feed the mixer. I would fill it up and then watch it mix, while adding water, as the "barrow operators" stood in line with their beat up wheelbarrows waiting for another load. Once it was properly mixed, the operator would dispense a "to the top" load of concrete to each operator and they would head off to the foundation while maneuvering around on 2x10 wooden planks. At the foundation they would dump their loads and hustle back to the mixer. Our foreman Mel was on he knees at the foundation directing where to dump each barrow while leveling the concrete and smoothing it out. Two other men were helping place the concrete with flat shovels and other jobs, at the direction of Mel, such as cutting keys in the foundation or shoveling excess concrete away from the foundation boards so the wooden forms would not be locked into place. These two men had the best jobs as they got to stand and talk a lot. They smoked while they worked and joked a lot with Mel. I envied them and aspired to their jobs but I couldn't figure out how to get on that part of the crew. I had to settle on being the "Mixer Loader" until I could figure that out.

Shortly the foundation was done and we merely switched to another foundation that was just like that one only on the other side of the mixer. It seemed that our crew was being decimated by the flu which was exactly how I ended up as "Mixer Loader". As we switched sides, we took a short break, where I heard that 2 barrow operators were moving up to work with Mel as his 2 men went home sick. Another man was coming down from the Sawmill to work with us but that left us still one man short. So this is how you move up, I said to myself. Striking while the iron was hot I went up to Mel, as he drank his coffee. "Mel" I intoned with my best deep voice and my thumbs stuck into my belt, "I can handle that wheelbarrow, I mean barrow, you know and I would like to take a crack at it." Mel looked me up and down and just said "sure". When we were back up and running and the new guy was learning how to load the mixer, I stood on the plank, behind my barrow waiting for my 1st load of concrete. The guy ahead of me told me the in and outs to "Barrow Operation" this amounted to whatever you do, don't let the load get away as Mel doesn't like that to well. Keep your feet the same distance apart as your shoulders. "Plow, plop" and the first load of concrete hit my wheelbarrow and I almost lost it but for the guy behind me grabbing the side. As I headed for the foundation I could hardly keep the barrow full of shifting concrete stable but I plodded on. The concrete ran over the edges as it sloshed from side to side. Got my load dumped and headed back for more. I brought over three more loads and we were at the corner and shifting directions and that is when it happened. As I came back with the next load I was feeling about as cocky as a 15 year old could feel because after all this was my 5th load and there was nothing to it. As I lifted up on the handles to dump, I hit a rock on the plank and lost control. I tried to over react to catch the load but all I did was steer the entire load of wet concrete into Mel's lap. I looked down at Mel and his entire lap was covered and I couldn't even see his legs. He was holding his float in one hand and just looked at me shaking his head slowly. "I think a better place for you Dickson is back loading the mixer" he said as he stood up and cleaned himself as best as he could with his hands. I looked back, as I got to the mixer, and there was Mel standing while one of the guys rinsed him off with the full force of the hose. Every day Mel wore clean, starched, Khaki pants and shirt, a holdover from his days working as foreman on the CCC's and in the Army. Mel was as tough as they come and he just stood there, still staring at me and slowly shook his head as the ice cold water ran over him. Good thing it was hot out. The next day I was returned to the Sawmill crew and my job as being a tailer.

Losing weight the hard way

Now that I need to clean up my eating act a bit[lower cholesterol, eliminate salt, add fiber, loose 100 #'s] I have been paying a bit more attention to food. For instance, I have had a cheeseburger almost every day of my adult life and it is really not good for you. I have noticed that it is really tough to get a hamburger that is less than 1/2 lb. When did that happen? Everything used to be based on the good old quarter-pounder. If you bought premade burgers at the grocery store, they were all 1/4#ers. If you barbecued and had guests over they all got 1/4 burgers and a hot dog. We ate at a nice restaurant tonight and as I was perusing the menu I came to a section entitled "Lighter fare" theoretically for those of us that need to loose weight. This section had two hamburger entries on it and both were 1/2lb-ers. "LIGHTER FARE" you have to be kidding me!!! I chose a nice dinner salad. [good boy Ted]Friendlys restaurants, out this way, are nice places to go with the family for supper and ice cream. Their specials all have free ice cream and everything that sounds like a burger is 1/2 pound and up plus fries and no matter how hard you look you can't find a 1/4 hamburger. I think the only way you can get a 1/4# burger is to order a 1/2# burger and split it with your wife. McDonalds has really pushed this 1/4# thing with the double as published. It has a mere 730 calories with 40 grams of mouth watering fat and yes they do have a 1/4 pounder. Isn't it ironic that they are about the only ones that can provide you with a 1/4# hamburger but it is only half as good as the double. Need to get off this subject.

I have been on diet since my Dr. told me I had a heart attack about 3 weeks ago. I have gained 11 #s since I started. But I have turned into a 100% whole grain kinda guy. Since I have to lower my cholesterol [147] I gave up my morning egg. Actually I used to have 1 egg, on an English Muffin or toast with a slice of cheese and a small glass of juice. Now I have some kind of 100% whole wheat breakfast food and milk. I have sliced ham or turkey on bread [100% grain bread] for lunch and a normal supper. My big problem is all of the cookies/candies/cakes/pies that have been showing up because of the holidays. My daughter makes cookies by the bucketfuls and leaves them on our porch and if nothing is around I manage to devour 2 sleeves of 100% whole wheat crackers and cheese without breaking a sweat but I haven't seen a burger in three weeks. I even gave up beer and switched to a nice glass of red wine now and then? A friend of mine who has the same type of problem I do says he wife sends him out to graze on the front law about once a week.

Puppy playdate.

Thought I would never be uttering those words. I don't like the term when used referring to kids and absolutely never when referring to pets. We never took our daughter to a "playdate" and my wife and I never had a "playdate" when we were kids. It is this new generation of parents that have coined that phrase and now Websters will want to make a new word out of it, if they haven't already done it. I suppose it will be political incorrect should I say "Sam is over next door playing with Tim" but I will need to be saying Sam is having a "Playdate" with Tim????? What happens to me if I refuse to use the word "Playdate"? Do I get censured by Merriman-Webster or something. Do the word police come and get me?

Sorry but I went off on that word a little bit. We had a puppy playdate today because GG is bringing her dog Maggie over to live with us sometime after the 1st of the year, for a while while she heads to Arizona to visit some friends and family. This 1st picture is Maggie in all her Pug glory.












Next picture is our Simon with Maggie as the two "Explore" each other.












The third picture is Maggie getting to know Purrsey over at the shop. That is Purrsey's back and hair standing straight up. Purrsey is not very impressed. When he got back to the house he immediately went upstairs and hid. seems he isn't quite ready for another dog in his life. When Maggie got into the house she went right to the middle of the living room floor and pooped. Probably trying to establish herself as Alpha pet or something.
Dec 26th Mike, Ellen and Sam are moving over here for a day and night as the asbestos removers go to their house removing the stuff as they are getting a new furnace. They are bringing their two dogs, Boo and Randy, with them. Boo is a Black Lab and Randy a Golden Doodle. Both love to play rowdy and rough and destroy anything in their way. You might remember that Randy ate two pair of my glasses and a couple of bags of apples. This should be enough material for a posting or two.

I need to update this posting because when I went upstairs to change clothes I found that the damn cat had peed on our bed. Probably the cat was upset because the little Pug chased him upstairs that he relieved himself on our bed. Seems he's making a little bit of a play at being Alpha pet. He better find another way of doing that, mabey kicking some butt or something, otherwise he is going to be working on Alpha Pet out in the shop at night.

Working at my Dad's Sawmill

My father had a sawmill in the Black Hills of SD when I was growing up. The main mill was located in Sturgis and was by far the largest. When I left the mill in 1972, because he had sold it, we were sawing about 100,000 board feet per day plus a railroad car full of chips for making paper. What I first remember is the mill was fairly small probably sawing about 10 to 15,000 feet per day. I was about 12 when I got my first job at the sawmill. I wanted money and my two older brothers worked there so I could ride with them at 7. I could only work until noon but that was OK because by then I was bored to death and it was time to go swimming anyway. My first job was called stick and rock picker upper. I was impressed with the title and told everyone how important I was. All of our roads were dirt and gravel and I was responsible to make sure all of the rocks were picked up and also all of the sticks. The sticks were about 3' long and 3/4" X 1 1/2" and were placed between the layers of green lumber in the piles as the left the "green chain" which was where all of the rough boards (green and wet) came out of the sawmill. The fork lift picked them up and hauled them to the yard to stay (1 to 2 months) while they dried. As my Dad explained to me, the forks would drive over the roads and hit the rocks and the resulting lurching would cause some of the sticks to come out of the piles. As these sticks laid in the road, other vehicles such as cars, dump trucks and logging trucks would drive over these sticks and they would fly up and hit the break lines and break them. Without breaks a logging truck could crash and kill the driver. So you can see that I had a very important job and I worked very hard at it to keep the drivers from being killed. I think I made $1.50 per 1/2 day and that was good money being the minimum wage was only 75 cents [in 1955 you could still type out a cent sign (¢) on the typewriter without it being a big deal]. Before long I was wallowing in dough and the envy of all my friends. I made more money than my friends that were paperboys. Eventually I ran out of roads and to get sticks I just followed the fork lift around so I asked my Dad for a different job, for a while, so the sticks and rocks could build back up. I got in Dad's car [a 1955 green Ford with dual air horns on the right fender and a spotlight on the other fender] and we headed for a remote part of the sawmill yard. It was the area where they dumped the slabs from the sawmill. Slabs are the outer part of the log, containing the bark, which was waste. They were put in an old, yellow, State, snowplow type, Dump truck that Dad had purchased at auction and it had no brakes [ too many sticks] and the truck went up to this remote area and dumped the slabs. They had to be piled as they were running out of room. My new job. Not very important though as there were no lives in danger. Well I piled slabs for days and then one day it was very hot and there was no shade. My 12 year old mind figured it out and I took some of the slabs from the pile I was making and slid them about 1/2 way off. The sun was on the opposite side so it made an excellent shade break. I crawled underneath for my break and promptly went to sleep. I was awoke by my Dad kicking the bottom of my foot because it was lunch time. Boy was he mad and I couldn't come back to work for a couple of weeks which was OK by me. I had enough money in my pocket to get by and this allowed me to go to the pool in the mornings also. 12 years old, swimming in the morning and afternoon with enough money to spend at the snack bar. Life didn't get much better than that in 1955.

Get a Hobby!

When you have a heart attack, everyone is a Dr. It is amazing as to how many people have had similar problems or their spouse, brother/ sister have. All have given me the same advise. Slow down, take it easy, stop stressing over everything, loose weight, exercise and get a hobby. I have a lot of little hobbies but none that I have ever taken serious such as : photography; this blog; painting; building furniture; fly fishing; professional roller skating………just kidding. I looked over the list and decided I needed something really new. I went out and took a class on how to make wooden pens! Had a fun time doing it and we sent all of the pens we made over to Iraq. Nice. So I spent $150 on a used lathe, $200 on misc. materials and cleaned my shop up to make room. I’ve made one pen but I have now taught my daughter how to make pens and she is off and running with a whole list of people she is making wooden pens for and I taught my grandson how and he to has a list of all his teachers and so forth. [picture is my 9 yr old grandsons1st try] They are making pens for all of the South Dakota relatives as well. Ellen’s husband hasn’t shown an interest yet but he has turned in a list. My wife tried but she didn’t have her glasses and couldn’t see. [valid reason] but she says she wants to learn. Keep in mind that I only have one lathe. Also keep in mind that all of these parts cost. Apparently we are going to sell pens when the fairs roll around next fall to recoup my expenses. We missed all of the craft shows this year. Darn!

In the pen building trade, the hard part is getting everything ready to turn the pen blanks. The stock has to be sized and cut, holes drilled through the centers of the cut pieces, brass tubes glued inside the holes and then drilled out and squared for the lathe and then you can turn the lathe on which by the way is the fun part. I have made one pen so far but I have prepped a whole bunch of stock for the various turners I have now taught and I noticed that no one is professing to have a desire to help with that phase? When I finish this post I still have to go out and clean the shop.
I will have to admit that it was fun to teach everybody and watch them get turned on to the hobby but it kinda looks like my hobby is going to be doing prep work. Does that count?

Sam turning his first wooden pen.

Sam putting pen together

unable to post

I can't post because I can't find any editing tools such as inserting a picture. Anyone got any clues with this beta thing. figured it out... go to posts then F5? Don't know why but it works. everything returns

Another cat posting

Think I will start back out with a cat posting. I have got to do some reading to catch up on this super silent Diesel Sub the Chinese have developed because I am sure I will have something to say about that. I have also got some old bicycle stories , a story, with pictures, of my sister-in-law’s latest tattoo, a couple of cop stories and one or two submarine stories. I might even venture back to the 1950’s and see if I can remember times when I was 10 years old. Alas I get away from my Purrsey story.

The picture says it best as Simon is bracing for yet another attack from the cat. Purrsey managed to escape to the outside world, a couple of months ago and has become a part time resident there. Simon insists on following him until he gets too far away. Simon will bark at him if he goes where he shouldn’t. It has become a rather fun match to watch. They wrestle and run until Simon runs out of steam and lays down for a cat nap and sometimes the cat will lay with him. If the cat is still out at bedtime Simon will not settle down until the cat comes in. I have had to keep a ladder close because Purrsey can get up on things but just can’t get back down. The worst incident was going up a tree, probably because of the neighborhood dogs, and spending three days up there until we found him. He sure was hungry when he got down. The nice thing about his moving outside is that the world in now his litter box and the house smells a whole lot better.

The cat usually wants outside at 4 AM and I foolishly oblige him. I have found that the constant meow’s go away when you oblige him and those meows can drive you insane if you fail or move to slowly. You certainly can’t sleep through them and the only other solution available would be killing the cat and that would make the wife unhappy. Therefore I get up at 4 and let the cat out.
This morning I let the cat out at 4 and then the dog wanted out at 5. At 5:30 I was having coffee when I heard a rather loud commotion on our side porch. I opened the door and Purrsey flew in the door. I noticed Simon, all agitated and patrolling the driveway outside the porch, back and forth. Off in the distance I could see our local, gray, neighborhood Tom, swaggering slowly to the South and home. I am sure he had just delivered a dose of “Who’s top cat in the neighborhood” to Purrsey and Purrsey’s hero Simon broke up the action chasing the villain away. “Good boy Simon”! Purrsey has had his butt kicked a couple of times now. He’ll eventually learn.

I'm Back

I’m back! Took a little trip with “Self Pity” for a while and now that I have it all back in perspective I think I will write some more. To all of you who e-mailed me, during my trip, thank you very much. I appreciated your concern. I had a heart attack and a whole lot of tests and it knocked me for a loop. Not that the heart attack was bad or anything because I wasn’t even aware of it. A few weeks ago I had a Cardiac Catheterization and then that is when they found it. The damage from the heart attack and all of the blocked arteries at the bottom of my heart. Seems like the blocked arteries were bypassed by some new arteries that replaced them. Who would have thunk that would happen? The Doc’s got my blood pressure down and I have to lose weight, a lot of weight, [about 100 lbs] and I should live a while longer, a lot longer. Seems that my cholesterol is high also and I have some more buildup occurring and I have to get rid of it. Guess that is the part that is inherited
I wasn’t expecting all of this and I didn’t like the idea and I kept saying to myself that this has got to be someone else and not me. I guess this is where my realization of mortality kicked in for the second time in my life. The first time was when I was a cop, racing back and forth across South Dakota solving homicides and chasing Indian problems at a 140 mph. Something kicked in about dying because I hit a deer or blew a tire and never getting to know my family or my little girl. Today it is being around for my wife, our daughter and her family. Now I have to just figure out this diet thing. Tomorrow I have my first appointment with my Cardiologist and maybe he can shed some light on dieting and exercising. I”ll let you know.