Gettin’ Old, This Adventure Called 'Life' Continues, However…………..

Started by Gary O, August 17, 2011, 09:01:16 PM

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Gary O

Sassy, don't get me wrong.
I'm not a religious guy.
Never really talk about it much.
And I'm not one of those guys that doesn't preach it, but lives it.
Actually I pretty much hate it, and those that push it, and write about it in venues.......like forums (self thoathing is creeping as I type).
I come from a pretty rowdy clan.
Some bikers, some felons, some just plain ornery folk.
My youngest has pretty much followed suit.
I've treated Christianity as a nice story. One for hope for the less fortunate.
But, in my limited reading and some in depth (for me) study, I discovered a thread of reality, based on fulfilled prophecy thru the ages. Kinda logged it in my 'huh' category.
Thing is, when I study about the ultimate separation of the father and son, that being the death, ours, it takes me down, every time. I get too busted up to talk about it.
And I'm not a weepy guy...pretty far from it.
Forgiveness is huge. It's quite a load I've managed to pile up, so it's pretty easy for me to find joy and great relief in that.
But that sacrifice deal.
Whoa.
It's way too much for me to fathom with snapshot reading.
It's my ultimate study.
I'm enjoying all that I own, the moment.

"Live in the sunshine, swim the sea, drink the wild air." Emerson

Sassy

I agree w/you, Gary...  don't like religion...  and I have plenty of faults myself - don't tell Glenn, tho  ;)   My kids have had their problems but I still love them & forgive them  ;D

Occasionally, I will share my beliefs here on the forum because it's my world view & it's hard not too. 

I, like you, have been taken down by the awesomeness of forgiveness... 
http://glennkathystroglodytecabin.blogspot.com/

You will know the truth & the truth will set you free


Gary O

Shopping, 'tis the Season

The wife, in yule mode, cranks out knitted and crocheted slippers for everyone on the same limb of the family tree. Sometimes a full blown afghan or two come to being.
They've been great, money saving gifts.
I, for the most part, every year, swear off buying anybody anything...it's a humbug....then, some invisible 'Christmas Present' angel from hades baps me on the head around 7:30 pm, Christmas eve, and I grab a bat and my ol' football helmet and venture thru the malls.

There have been times that I've had an epiphany and made the grandkids things, things of wood, forts, chests, 'things they'll treasure' (I think in my elfin mind). So, for 2-3 weeks before that blessed day, every evening after work, I'd be seen in my shop, sawing, joining, planing, staining, finishing, smashing my elfin thumbs, cursing, swearing, waving my elfin arms......yeah, epiphanies....everybody should have one a them %@#&*$ epiphanies

Other times, years ago,  my bride and I have found ourselves waiting for stores to open at 4 am.
It couldn't be helped.
The glisten in her eyes from anticipation of early morning adventures swayed me to wake in the dead of night on black Friday eve, tiptoe past slumbering chickens, and sit in the mall parking lot, staring at the line of crazed humanity already encircling the electronics store like it was Jericho.
One time she joined the horde, unsuccessfully coaxing me to follow.
There I sat, flashlight and crossword in hand, hair askew, bedbeard looking like I was in a crosswind.....stomach chatting with me.
Two minutes to 4, I rubbed the fog off the side window.
The crazies were jostling for position.
I lost sight of the wife somewhere around the corner of the building.
I slap on my fishing cap and begrudgingly leave the refuge of the Buick.
The doors open.
The guy with the keys gets carried away with the mob. Only thing you can see of him is his flailing arms.
I stroll in with the first 50 shoppers that will get the TV special, getting a glimpse of the wife swimming past, heading to the TV dept....only the specials were all up front. The guy with the keys and foot prints on his shirt, points me the way.
Half hour later, here she comes, TV in cart.
I, TV in trunk, am on the 2nd crossword.
We're not done...there's a mere 27 other stores that have free snow globes, free coffee, and free donuts.......the frenzy has only begun.
So we secure the TVs in the trunk, and make our way upstream, pointing to the trunk as we stroll back inside, making sure the parking lot thieves can know where at least two of the 50 TVs can still be had.
Two hours later, with globes clutched by jittering caffeine induced hands, the furrowed brows on my powdered sugared countenance lets the wife know I'm a couple clicks past jolly...and we go home....blessed home..... 



Now, shopping for people at the mall has been great entertainment for the wife and I.
We just sit on a bench, munching on popcorn, and watch mothers drag their screaming little darlings along.....and their husbands (but less screaming...most times).
We once set by one of those quarter horses (put a quarter in the slot), and noted the parent's varied techniques in skirting quarter out put;

1st dad: DON'T TOUCH IT!!!

2nd dad: sets his kid on and fakes putting a coin in, then shakes the crap out of the machine, making periodic wheenying noises.....

3rd dad: points the opposite direction, noting wonderful toy stores around the corner, while briskly whisking his kid by the horsey.


Its great fun.
...and we can afford it.
I'm enjoying all that I own, the moment.

"Live in the sunshine, swim the sea, drink the wild air." Emerson

rick91351

Before Lands End was engulfed by Sears and ruined anther line of product.  I had the coolest shopping method.  I and a arm load of catalogs and huge coffee mug would go to my home office.  I would lock the door and start my own Black Friday.  I would send everything to my buddy's house.

Latter my daughter after she was married conned me into Black Friday.  We both came home shot.  This and that on sale was already gone.  Read the fine print.  Limited amount on sale or first 25. 

I made her swear the oath.  We both grabbed coffee and went to the office armed with the arm load of catalogs, our cell phones and it was all over- one hour tops..........

A couple years a go I went Christmas shopping looking for the perfect wife gift.  I went to the big mall in Boise I got a ticket there.  All the roads on the mall grounds are public roads and Boise gleans heavy there over Xmas.  I thanked the officer who did trap me.  Shook his hand and told him thanks I will never be back.

I so wanted to write the mayor a letter and explain I think they are a bunch of morons.  But I paid up and never go back.  Thank you so much Mayor Beater for the ticket.  You sure showed me.  Now I am back to Amazon and Lehmans Non Electric Catalog.  Nothing is spent local really     
       

Proverbs 24:3-5 Through wisdom is an house builded; an by understanding it is established.  4 And by knowledge shall the chambers be filled with all precious and pleasant riches.  5 A wise man is strong; yea, a man of knowledge increaseth strength.

Gary O

PLAIN FOLK
A retrospectation of Gramma

Kin came from the dust bowl, Okies. The Joad family (The Grapes of Wrath) represented them well.
Gramma coulda easlily played Ma Joad...if she didn't....

Gramma raised me.
Actually, she raised everyone in our country neighborhood.
She made a home with little, but always clean.
The aroma from her kitchen was everlasting.
She could turn corn bread and hominy into a feast.
Sometimes she'd just take some left over cornbread, and break it up into a bowl and pour milk and sugar on it.
Called it 'crumbs'.
Always a pie or cobbler.
Always a huge garden.
Always tending something, or someone.
She could give you a bath with a teaspoon of water.
Ever so often, we'd head to 'Monkey' Wards in the old 51 Chevy.
It was her outing.
Most times we'd be picking up something like a post hole digger, or a part for a pressure cooker that she'd ordered, nothin' fancy.
After pulling a number, we'd sit in the big room downstairs of the huge multi-storied Wards store, waiting for them to pull our order.
I remember one time she fished my hand out of a spittoon of which I'd found interest in it's contents.
I don't remember ever going in with them after that.


She had a genuine warmth that accepted anyone, and a kindness that made her home yours.
Nothing gushy, just down home, grapes of wrath folk.
Plain speaking.
She had an economy with words.
Names of things and places were all called 'whatchcallit'.
She called most everyone 'kid', except for me. She called me 'picklepuss'. For awhile there I thought my name really was picklepuss.
She had huge, pillowy gramma arms.
When she'd raise 'em to hang laundry, they'd kinda drape down, giving the impression of a giant flying squirrel, or better yet, a caped crusader...X Gramma, queen of the quilting bee.
When she'd settle you down for a nap they'd envelope you.
No one got away.
Where do grammas get those arms, and when?
She always had 'em as far back as I can recall.

They were very nap inducing, coupled with her high pitched nasal country tone singing you to slumber, her super powers were always too much for extended consciousness.

As sweet as she was, she could be stubborn when necessary.
We had a collie dog named King.
Our family had a long history of keeping a dog outside.
It rains a lot in Oregon and a wet collie in a small house is not a good combination.
King was gun shy, and whenever we had a thunder storm he'd run under the car or house, or in the house if you'd let him. Thinking back, I think the whole family was gun shy, as we'd oftentimes run furtively out to the car to sit out the storm...something about the tires grounding the car.
One of these storms hit relatively close one evening, so we decided to get in the car and drive the mile around the corner, up the hill, to gramma's house. King followed, running right behind the car. Maybe he'd heard about the grounding theory.....sweet dog, but his intellect was a bit skewed. Looked like Lassie, but was more the antichrist of the collie world.
Arriving at gramma's, she greeted us by opening her screen door a few inches.
It was enough for king to forcefully nose his way in.
Ever try to get a dripping wet panic stricken dog out of your house? Evidently gramma had.
In less time than you could say 'whatchcallit' , king was flying back out the door, through the air and off the porch. He did a couple belly rolls and slinked under the car.
Gramma put her broom back, behind the door, at the ready, like it was her shot gun.

Work for her was recreation, rewarding, sustaining.

In church you could hear her high pitched Minnie mouse voice whining out a hymn, tears in hers eyes.


She lived to be 97, out living three husbands.
A year after one of them passed, she'd go to Mode-O-Day, buy a bright flowered dress, get her hair done, put on a bit of rouge, and snag another one.


Of anyone's passing, hers I feel the most.

As it's been said, a full life, well lived.
Her last words to me was, "I just want to be where there's life".

I believe she is.
I'm enjoying all that I own, the moment.

"Live in the sunshine, swim the sea, drink the wild air." Emerson


Gary O

Little things gettin' bigger

I have a regimen, everything in it's place...always.
Move my shaving mug two inches and I'm like a milk cow without a stanchion.
Heck, swap the toothpaste tube with my polygrip and my day starts out pretty much upside down.......
Speaking of shaving mugs, yes I hit the edges of my beard with a razor...I like the feel of my lady's soft on my cheek....but the other mug, the shaving mug, is a prize I won't soon give up. I know folks that have these fancy foam heating devices for the feel of that barber's shave.
Shoot, a mug, a cake of William's soap, some hot water and a good badger bristle brush and yer downtown.
In my youth, trappings were just things in the way. Shower? Hah, just jump in the stream, then fish the day away lettin' the sun dry yer clothes.

Now, now the shower is a sacred rite. The hand held nozzle, oh what a marvel, and towels...I made a study on towel absorbency...after buying the thickest, plushest one I could find and still it was like a squeegee, pushing the water off....so I looked closely at the worn out rag of my favorite towel I was replacing, and noticed those little loops of the terry were not loops but open ends.....no loops, huh. Back to the store...make that stores....finally found one with open ends of the terry...both sides. It's now my towel. Super absorbent. Hang that puppy out on a bright day and it's like a fabric of sunshine.
Washcloths, same thing, what happened?
Had the wife cut up some old towels to the size washcloth I prefer...presto.....I can once again do the double hand back and forth back scrub.

Dinner ware
I keep a substantial fork and those wide bladed butter knives on hand...and a big, thick spoon, one that can blade thru the hardest of ice cream.
Thin pancake flipper, flat cast iron skillet, large stainless bowls, knives thick, sharp, serated.

Weekend clothes are shorts, shirt, tennies, any time of year.....actually these are now rags that I give the sign of the cross every time I toss them in the hamper....both times of the year...but sure are comfy...and that's big.
One weekend I was putting beer cans in one of those pop can gobblers, one at a time, when a finely dressed lady just plopped her bag of cans down beside me.
'What, time too precious to waste on recycling?'
'No, I just thought you needed the money.'
Might be time upgrade the uniform.

The bed stand
Articulated lamp hooked to the wall, water glass, cell phone, reading glasses, pen (for crossword). Keys, wallet, money clip, 1911 in the drawer.

Bed
Used to be where ever I fell.
Now
Pillow top mattress, down filled smushable pillow, cool side waiting to be turned, window wide open, homemade comforter, bride on the side...night night, sweet dreams...drooling a river.

Yeah, little things are big now, and so much more enjoyed.

I'm enjoying all that I own, the moment.

"Live in the sunshine, swim the sea, drink the wild air." Emerson

Gary O

This gettin' old stuff is gettin' old.

Gonna do sumpm about it.

Options are limited.
1.   Fix diet
2.   Exercise
Exercise, yeah right.

So, it seems I gotta target the diet.
This sedentary mode of writing and pondering deeply profound thoughts of profound depth is quite fun, but is not the good brother of my javelina-like eating habits....and conjuring up deeply profound thoughts of profound depth makes me hungry. Just writing the words 'deeply profound thoughts of profound depth' gives me a hankerin'.
So after tapping out a few pages of deeply profound thoughts of profound depth I'm ravenous.

It's just conquering taste buds, right?

If that little Gandhi guy can do it, what with all that savory India cuisine all over the place, surely I can hold back from bland things like T-bone shteak  (sorry, slavered a bit).......
If I could only slow down and enjoy it...smaller bites.....chew for gawd's sake. I tend to chow down like someone's about to take it from me.

Went on an eating regimen a few months ago.
My goal was to lose 40 lbs.....only 57 more to go.......

The wife can drop weight like she was on a raft in the middle of the Pacific.

Couple years ago she did this raw food thing.
Came home one day, ravenous.
Dinner is usually ready when I get home.
This day was no exception.
The aroma smelled like....nothing.
There she was, munching on a carrot, nose twitching.
Next day was a huge surprise.
'What's for dinner?'
'Lasagna'
(Be still my heart, she's come to her senses)
I just never realized raw rutabaga, beets and parsnips if prepared with special forces camo tactics could resemble comfort food.
In opening the fridge, foraging for possibly something left over from our carcass eating days, possibly a bit of remains, or forsaken carrion, my eyes locked on a forgotten bag of coconut.
(Ahhhh-HAH! Sweetened, processed sustenance!)
I furtively secreted a huge mouthful, keeping my head in the fridge.
(AUGH! Shredded rutabaga!)
After several days like this, my strength started to wane.
The lawn clippings started to become an attractive food source, when my bride finally came back around...after losing several pounds....and that was my salvation. Those greased filled things on those rollers at the 7-11 were gettin' kinda old.
I do know one thing. Whatever I do, it's going to be a mutual effort....my bride is the cook...and I mean cook....using the stove and oven.

Cooked carrots? Come own.
I'm enjoying all that I own, the moment.

"Live in the sunshine, swim the sea, drink the wild air." Emerson

Gary O

Seriously Folks

OK, I'm not kidding myself.
I really gotta do something about my girth.
Tying my shoes begets a blue/reddish hue to my mug as my triple chin bellows compress, and my pony keg abs cut off oxygen to my lungs.

Here we are, The Holidays.
I waddle down the hall to the front office, sugar cookie cheek filled face giving the appearance of a gargantuan chipmunk.
I check my in box.
There's a row of goodies.
From vendors.
Addressed to me.
I scurry back to my office.
I really should share.

My bride and I have discussed our not so little problem.
Thing is, she has the mental discipline to change.
Me? I too have total conviction, swearing abstinence.....right after one of her savory meals.
Two poops and a nap later I'm re-considering.

The choice;
Do I abstain from goodies and drop weight and get back to my lithe self?
Or
Do I continue to enjoy the twanging of my buds, knowing one day I'll plop over, probably during a meal, lying/twitching on the dining room floor with a mouth full of apple pie......paramedics calling for back up.
Or, do the Elvis thing.
Naw, I'm gonna get fit, cause this summer is the summer of cabin enhancements, and by May I'm gonna be the thin man, flitting around our high desert haven like those tree rats the wife is so fond of.
Gonna start now.
Today.
Just one more cookie....cookies.......
I'm enjoying all that I own, the moment.

"Live in the sunshine, swim the sea, drink the wild air." Emerson

Gary O


Grampa



He was a quiet man.
Work was his vocation and recreation.
I spent a lot of time at their place in my early years, his latter years.
Seems Grampa always had chores that filled his waking hours.
I was his shadow.
He wore coveralls most days, and always sported an old grey fedora.
His high cut oxfords made a shuffling sound as he walked.  Parkinson's was having it's way with his system.
We'd dine on a bowl of hominy together in the country kitchen.
As the midday sun danced on the table through the window from between the limbs of the giant firs, I'd watch his massive hand struggle to keep his corn on the shaking spoon.
In between chores, and my naps, he'd sit in the old padded rocker and thumb through a photo album while I stood at his side.
'The dapple was Molly and the grey was Dixie', pointing to the work horse team he knew so well.
Seemed Grampa had a couple soft balls tucked in his upper shirt sleeves. He was a compact man at five nine, but stout, bull neck, thick arms.
I knew him in his lesser years, keeping his meaning to life by doing small jobs.
Things like sharpening the hoes with rasps, feeding the chickens, gathering eggs, or lubing the tractor.
He cut down a hoe to my size, and all three of us hoed acres of strawberries.
I saw him laugh once.
He was a proud man, brought down and humbled by an untreatable disease, but keeping his misery within.
Dad says he was hard boiled in his younger years, and short on patience. Proud.
I knew him as a much different man.
One time I peered through a cracked door to his study. He was on his hands and knees, talking to his Lord, no longer able to just kneel.
His bible was quite worn.
Dad gave to it me a few years ago.
I leant it to him at Christmas.
I'll get it back pretty soon.
I think of times then and times now.
What a difference in pace, in conviction, in the shear enjoyment of endurance in simple living.
I see my grandkids give me an occasional glance of admiration, but nothing like the revered awe I had of him.
He died when I was ten.

I can still hear the shuffle of his feet, but it's mine that echo his stride now.

Enough of this.

I've got chores to do before I sleep.

Chores to do before I sleep.
I'm enjoying all that I own, the moment.

"Live in the sunshine, swim the sea, drink the wild air." Emerson


Sassy

http://glennkathystroglodytecabin.blogspot.com/

You will know the truth & the truth will set you free

rick91351

Proverbs 24:3-5 Through wisdom is an house builded; an by understanding it is established.  4 And by knowledge shall the chambers be filled with all precious and pleasant riches.  5 A wise man is strong; yea, a man of knowledge increaseth strength.

Rob_O

Quote from: Gary O on November 26, 2011, 09:59:32 PM
Heck, swap the toothpaste tube with my polygrip and my day starts out pretty much upside down.......

You know it's going to be a bad day when you swap the polygrip with your Preparation H.
"Hey Y'all, watch this..."

Gary O

I'm enjoying all that I own, the moment.

"Live in the sunshine, swim the sea, drink the wild air." Emerson

Gary O

Lawdy, I really am gettin' old
Waxed poetic this morn after checking out yet another grey day in the Pacific North Wet

Bear with me

Took this photo a few minutes ago



I trekked through the garden this winter morn
Observing the trees, yet months to adorn

Veiled in ghostly season haze
The willow rests its limbs in phase

Catkins, leaves, lost to the season
Feeding the earth, the thicket, the future
Nature displays its progression of reason

The willow, so frail in contrast to oak, to fir,
even to lesser plants of wood
Finding strength in numbers, shielding wind
For the farmer, for the soil, for good

A lesson learned
As in covers of books
Strength is hidden in their looks
Bending, yielding, yet not breaking
Drawing sinuous vigor
from streams, from lakes, from brooks
I'm enjoying all that I own, the moment.

"Live in the sunshine, swim the sea, drink the wild air." Emerson


Gary O

Lyrics

I love a good tune, but if the sounds are less than what I like, I'll listen to the lyrics.
Back in the day, when I had two good ears, and music options were controlled by twisting a knob, I'd sometimes sing to the lyrics, or so I thought......

Seems the waves were jammed with mediocre tunes

Stevie Nicks

Remember her?
What the heck was she sayin'?
It's like her uvula got wrapped around her tongue.
Or did the song writer just lay down sound notes for lyrics?
♫♪ S-a-y la foo ma h-e-i-i-e eve her I re-w he-y ma ev-e-ah so meh gypsy foo ma h-e-i-i-e eve her I re-w ♪♫
I couldn't even hope to sing even the wrong words to her tunes.

Then, Later, MJ
Billy Jean
♫♪ The chai-r is not my son (??)♪ ♫

or

Manfred Mann
♪♫ Blinded by the light..... Wake up like a douche you know the roller in the night (what??) ♫♪

But there was one, the magic one
Righteous beat, soulful tune, and smooth smooth lyrics
I'd listen
I'd drive
I'd sing...... the lyrics..... the right ones

http://youtu.be/mmdPQp6Jcdk

Then there was this one

Didn't much matter if I knew all the lyrics cause the pedal was smashed to the floor and turns needed negotiated

http://youtu.be/znaYWPIM72A


But now.....for sippin' on a Friday evening.....un-knotting the tension...... Cole Porter can do it for me (with a little U2 applied)

http://youtu.be/ZTFKZMiQM3U

Thanks for listenin' with me
I'm enjoying all that I own, the moment.

"Live in the sunshine, swim the sea, drink the wild air." Emerson

Gary O

MISTER NOMER

Happy people are well liked, and seem to gather a crowd most times, at parties and get-togethers.

Sad people, not so much.

But I have this burden, and am a bit drawn to the downcast.
It's aggravating for both parties, as usually the sad just want to be left alone to bask in their sorrow...kinda like when you make a mad person laugh....done this to my bride countless times.

But there was this time, many years ago, in a southern town.

A gentleman was up at the bar, twiddin' with his drink.
Then chugging.
Then getting another.
I laid down my cue stick and pulled up a stool.
The barkeep poured me a brew, as the ol' guy spilled out his story.
The crease in my face turned sober while I listened, and while the hops sent my mind the other direction.

It was quite touching.

I became sad.

Having spent himself and the little money he had that day, he left.

It was raining outside, so I stayed, now absorbed in my own gloomy thoughts, soaking up a few more beers.

And it was cheap.

Happy Hour
I'm enjoying all that I own, the moment.

"Live in the sunshine, swim the sea, drink the wild air." Emerson

Gary O

Littler Things

So, I'm sittin' here in my lazy boy fiddlin' with an obscure crossword, and listening to the debate, when these veiny old man's feet, pokin' outta my horse blanket come into my line of vision, ....tiny blue and red blood vessels sprinkled on a lily white canvas....when in heck did that happen?

OK, my feet have never been objects of beauty to gaze upon with delight, but my mangled big toes have been great instruments of fright when hopping around on one foot and dangling the other behind a fleeing child. Thing is, they're not normal old man toes.
In my young working life there were times I'd opted to employ an intimate study of the inner workings of my colon, when I should've been listening to the boss as he commanded for everyone to lay the pipe down on three.
So, I have these bulbous things where toes should be, that have somewhat of a blend of horse hoof and hawk's talon-like remains of nail protruding, from these new potatoes, at a 45° angle.
But that's not my problem tonight. I've used these miniature hobgoblins as instruments of entertainment. But the little guys on the other end have this tiny obstinate nail, of which its tensile strength highly out-weighs the nub of a toe it's lodged on.
So, I'm staring at it, fixated.
Time for a trim.
I get the hoof cutters.
I don't bend well, never have.
But, all goes OK, right up until I notice a little hangy bit of nail at the very edge.
After several attempts in alternating breathing with bending, the little sucker is still there.
So, I give it a yank.
Now I'm lookin' at what is enough meat to make up another toe...still attached to that flippin' hangy....in my hand.

It hurts.

And it's gonna hurt tomorrow.

And I'll still feel it this weekend.

But!

That little chunk should be ripe enough to chase screaming grandkids with by Saturday!
I'm enjoying all that I own, the moment.

"Live in the sunshine, swim the sea, drink the wild air." Emerson

Sassy

http://glennkathystroglodytecabin.blogspot.com/

You will know the truth & the truth will set you free

rick91351

Funny how other peoples problems take you places you have not been in awhile.  I was reading last night Gary O' posting about his toes.  Then Don_P's posting about his shoulder problems.  This caused me to flash back to a very important person in my life.  Strange as it might sound an Orthopedic Doctor, that was some what storied here in Boise.  Dr. Daines, he repaired my three broken arms as a kid, and later when I was involved in a lumber mill accident and my left leg was crushed.  (I was lucky they even saved it.) 

He told me three things that made a profound mark in my life.  First off I complained to him about the age of eight, when you bumped the bone on the side of you foot.  (You know the one opposite the arch.)  It hurts.  He listen to me, a very concern eight year old.  Very concerned that something is going wrong with me feet.  He nodded his head understanding it all completely.  Then told me if it hurts, you are not supposed to do it again.  Not really a revelation.  But strangely told me I was normal.  And gave validation to a fact of life.  If you hurt yourself and continue to do so who is to blame?

The Lord blessed me with very long narrow feet.  Why this was in his plan God only knows.  Again back in Daines' office.  I do believe this most likely my last broken arm.  I had a pair of flip flops on.  He was looking at my feet and out of the blue tells me.  'You got some of the homeliest feet I have ever seen.'  This embarrassed me greatly.  He even took time to tell my mother that one should not let kids wear shoes that bunch the toes up and cause them to deform.  Mom was as red as I, but for a different reason when we left.  I was just embarrassed, she was worse off, she was pissed.  But it also strangely told me I was an individual.  I blew off the embarrassment of the moment.  Mom she very slowly got over being up set, mad and pissed at the doctor.

For the sake of space I will not go into the accident at the lumber mill.  I will tell you that it was not good.  I will also tell you that of it was not for a much more aged and wiser Doctor Daines it was very possible the bone saw would have come out.  I do remember laying on the ground there and telling the Superintendent of the mill and my Dad both.  Tell them to get Daines.  Daines did clear off his appointments that day.  From that day on it was six months of straight casts, it was one readmission to the hospital to have it rebroken.  It was about three months in a half cast and a couple in a walking cast.  My left leg had atrophied to me looking something like those WWII Prisoner of War photos.  My leg had went from being huge.  I could pop the seams in Levis in the thighs before the accident.  (If I could get a strain on something with my legs it was going to come.)

It was getting close to being released and his bookkeeper was wanting money.  Up until now I was just thinking lets get out a cast.  I had hardly thought ten years, twenty years, or the now forty years.  The insurance company was wanting to settle.  So I had to ask Doctor Daines where are we?  Will we recover?  Your people are wanting money.  I sort of need to settle with the insurance company.  With my family the last thing you do is the first thing it looks like most other people do now.  File a law suite. 

So Daines laid me back down and measured me, my legs and my hips and all that.  Tossed the tape back in the drawer, noted the measurements on the chart.  Puts the chart down and once again gave me some of the most important advise I feel I ever received.  Basically he told me your left leg is now considerably shorter than the right.  It will cause you hip problems.  So what do you do?  That is up to you, basically what do you want out of life.  You without a doubt can receive some disability and play that game.  Or you get on with life.  Your whole life is ahead of you.  You just have to choose how you choose to live it.  One was sort of tempting I must say.  The other I would have not traded for the world.  I have seen stuff, been places and enjoyed life.  I have had way more scars and sutures than I care to count.  Even occurred a broken ankle with plates.  Doctor Daines was not there for that one, for he passed.  I wished I would have went back to his office and told him thank you.

I also wonder, the what ifs.  What if it had been today.  Back then the doctors casted all the limbs.  They cut the casts off.  There was so much more one of one.  When I had the ankle fracture.  It was the nurse practitioner that did all that.  I seen a very busy Doctor that if a met on the street he would not remember me, he certainly would not know me.  One thing about Daines over the years he got to know me.  So I would like to offer up a, Thanks Doc if you are reading this somewhere in the Ethernet!  Been one hell of a ride you put me on!   
Proverbs 24:3-5 Through wisdom is an house builded; an by understanding it is established.  4 And by knowledge shall the chambers be filled with all precious and pleasant riches.  5 A wise man is strong; yea, a man of knowledge increaseth strength.

Gary O

Well, Rick, I've read a few hints of your maladies in your previous posts, but damn, you gotta know pain.
Lesser men woulda hung it up and taken up starin' out the window, blamin' society or folks, or God....and advising grandchildren how bad their pathetic miserable futures are.

I've had my scrapes, but most have.

Other than getting mashed here and there, there was a couple times I lifted something that a forklift shoulda, and felt and heard a sickening crunching in my lower back...kinda like when a tooth is pulled the hard way. Payin' now for sure...probably should see a doc to see how many discs are involved.

There was one time, working at Tektronix (like people actually worked there) I was leaving one of their massive cafeterias. There was these stairs that if taken normally one would get all screwed up in stride 'cause they were each about a pace and a half. So, there I am, beboppin' on the diagonal when my right ankle turned out, casting me into a full roll. Nothing fancy, just floppin' over and over until I ran outta stairs. This cafeteria had huge windows, so everyone got entertained, faces plastered at the windows. I got up, raised both arms like Nixon's farewell, and hobbled off to the car. Thing is, I haven't been able to run since, without my ankle givin' me fits for days....but I've been told that I ran like a diseased yak so not a great loss, except in regard to aerobics or emergencies............

However, we had an old engineer, Herb, and he was the nicest cantankerous ol' magnetics engineer I ever knew.
Back in the mid '80s, when I took on the task of joining the little company I'm at now, touted as some sorta savior by the scrawny lady that was my boss at a startup, he was one of them that spoke about me in my presence in the third person. A bit of a hurdle for me to get things changed and moving a better direction, but he turned out playful.
One day he asked if I wanted to see sumpm.
So I follow him into the men's bathroom.
He turns the corner and commences to pull his pants down.
I immediately catch on, expecting a gaggle of paparazzi engineers recording my clandestine tryst with Herb.
But it turns out he just wanted to show me what lightning can do to a leg when it passes thru yer torso and out your foot.
NGAH!! Ol' Herb had one good leg and a piece of bacon with a knee on it.
He commenced to explain how the docs told him he'd never walk, and in the first person to boot.
He really was cantankerous though. Every time I'd ask him how long he'd be to wrap up a quote, he'd say 'I don't know', then I'd say
'Longer than three years?'
'No'
'Longer than three months?'
'No'
'Longer than three weeks?'
'No'
'Longer than three days?'
'No'
'Three hours?'
'I don't know'
Note to self; somewhere between three days and three hours
Note 2; Herb is getting ready to have a difficult time
We did manage to learn how to get along thru the years....a little give....a little take.
Another trick of his when I'd pressure him was to drop his pencil and say 'You're the manager, you figure it out'......ferroresonant  transformer...yeah right.

He was a bit of a close talker.
Unfortunately his breath required the space of the grand canyon, teeth (both of 'em) floppin' around in what was left of his gums.
Made it hard to keep a dry eye.
The fun times would be when an upstart engineer would shun his advice.  From then on they'd be on their own...floundering.
There he'd sit,.... watchin.... grinnin' ......gummin' his puddin'-in- a-cup.

Ol' Herb is gone now. Not gone gone, but sittin' home, top knot in a fancy ice chest near at hand.
Post brain surgery.
Not likin' how he's ending up.
I check in on him from time to time.
Like learnin' to walk with not a whole lot more than one leg, he has accepted what's dealt, and always ready to return an acidic reply, smilin' that wry sarcastic smile.
I'm enjoying all that I own, the moment.

"Live in the sunshine, swim the sea, drink the wild air." Emerson


Sassy

Glad your Dr Daines was able to help restore your leg...  having much pain now?  Seems like when you get older, those old injuries start speaking up & letting you know they're there...

http://glennkathystroglodytecabin.blogspot.com/

You will know the truth & the truth will set you free

rick91351

Quote from: Sassy on January 28, 2012, 01:25:51 PM
Glad your Dr Daines was able to help restore your leg...  having much pain now?  Seems like when you get older, those old injuries start speaking up & letting you know they're there...


For me to say it never bothers me would be some what untrue.  Especially the last coupe years.  But I really do not think I am ready am ready for a wheel chair quite yet.   ;)   I remember back then what was considered physical therapy.  About an hour of a guy from Mountain Home Air Force Base took me and showed me how to do crutches.  Next day was stairs with crutches.  Left then right side and "Thanks!  We will see you."   :P

The fractured right ankle with the plates I never know it is there.  It never has bothered me.  I was kicked by a green broke horse as I stepped off him.  He sort of swept his hind leg up and got me.     
Proverbs 24:3-5 Through wisdom is an house builded; an by understanding it is established.  4 And by knowledge shall the chambers be filled with all precious and pleasant riches.  5 A wise man is strong; yea, a man of knowledge increaseth strength.

Gary O

 Y'ever been outside of a too early morn when the birds wake up?
It settles ya some.
Did that just now, openin' doors at work, getting' ready for the humans to appear.

I'm not talkin' big birds.
Seems crows wake up later, like they were playin' cards all night,
and eagles must stay in their aeries sittin' there hunched from the wind till light,
and owls of course are just punchin' out from a long night-shift of hooting and looting.
No, I'm talking' little guys, sparrows, wrens, finches, maybe a robin or two.
Those sounds sweeten the morn like none other.
I don't recall a bad day after doin' that.........
I'm enjoying all that I own, the moment.

"Live in the sunshine, swim the sea, drink the wild air." Emerson

rick91351

Quote from: Gary O on February 03, 2012, 08:53:44 AM
Y'ever been outside of a too early morn when the birds wake up?
It settles ya some.
Did that just now, openin' doors at work, getting' ready for the humans to appear.

I'm not talkin' big birds.
Seems crows wake up later, like they were playin' cards all night,
and eagles must stay in their aeries sittin' there hunched from the wind till light,
and owls of course are just punchin' out from a long night-shift of hooting and looting.
No, I'm talking' little guys, sparrows, wrens, finches, maybe a robin or two.
Those sounds sweeten the morn like none other.
I don't recall a bad day after doin' that.........


APPARENTLY!!  You have not worked all night, had a crappy time of it.  You are in a bad mood and you just hit the rack and chirp, chirp, chirp.  There is a plague of Chihuahua chirping birds out side the window.  Good thing Ellen keeps my shotgun locked up from me.  [waiting]  I reserve the right to have a crappy morning. 

Yet okay I will settle down.  One of my favorite times is just that up at the ranch.  I slide out of bed and let Ellen sleep.  I quietly go outside, sit on the step and usually put on my work boots.  They always seem the easiest to get to and they walk well.  Tig my red healer tries her best to prevent me from tying my laces.  This is because right now she needs a petting and reassured she is okay.  Addie my wife's healer is so much more polite, she waits patiently for me to finish.  Then she will approach for her good morning.

They know I am about  to make our morning rounds, the dogs run out ahead and return again for a petting.  We walk a loop to the shop, up by the aspen grove, then to the orchard, stop by the water troughs to see if any big deer or maybe a yearling elk might have stopped by.  The sun is lazy there in the morning.  It takes a while to wake up.  Actually there is a huge hill to the east it has to work itself up before it brakes over into our little valley.  I loop over around the blue berry patch and return via the garden shed.  We then rejoin the road or path or route that we commenced this journey on.

Yet accompanying us on this stroll there will be a chorus of sparrows, wrens, chickadees wishing us good morning from the wild roses and brambles.  As I get close to the aspen grove and the shop, the voices change some what.  Not a lot however the woodpeckers and small owls who have not settled down for the day join in there.  There might be a few Clark's nutcrackers hanging there that join in as well.  As I turn the corner by the shop and walk the primitive road, I keep the dogs close.  And I keep a careful eye out for a doe and fawn, or a young bunk that might be sprouting his antlers.  They hang out there.  The air is chilly there, not cold but chilly.   As we pass the aspen grove and get closer to the orchard the blue birds hang in there and a few wrens dot the sage as well.  The sun is still struggling up the other side of the hill.  But the birds are up as we are.

Strange it is to me the transition there at the water troughs, the pine trees start there.  And the Steller's Jays, the gray jays and may be even a pinon jay, or a western scrub jay seem to like it there.  We turn again now north, for a short distance.  Just the distance of the spread of the orchard.  For this trip is more east and west.  When we make the corner of the orchard fence and start walking now west the birds are more quite here.  The orchard is young and not visited by many birds.  And to the other side there is little of interest to the birds.

But soon we are passing other side of the aspen and greeted there again by full chorus.   Now we are close to where we come back to where we started.  Now the sun has finished the climb up the hill.  It is shines on our little valley.  This is a great time for me.  I return to the trailer and now Ellen is up and has coffee made.  I get a hot cup of coffee and a chair and sit there and watch the shadows being peeled away as the sun chases away the darkness.  I sit there and meditate on it all.  The heavy coffee cup feels so warm in my hands.  The aroma of the coffee, the sage, the pines is so soothing as is the music.  The music of the breeze in the trees, accompanied by the birds.  Lord God help me indeed help us all if this is ever common place.   

           
Proverbs 24:3-5 Through wisdom is an house builded; an by understanding it is established.  4 And by knowledge shall the chambers be filled with all precious and pleasant riches.  5 A wise man is strong; yea, a man of knowledge increaseth strength.

Gary O

Hope

Sometimes the reward of being positive is immediate....sometimes fruition comes after you're gone....but sometimes there's those hints......and sometimes that's enough

Having children taught me a lot about myself.
Didn't realize how selfish I was.
I kinda wish I'd have had them later in life, but then we might not have waded those streams, and camped, and done the things we did together.


...and my daughter, well, things were great for her, but they were also horrific, as her brother was going off the deep end in her formative years.
Her and I lost touch for some time, as I was pretty absorbed with my eldest.
She put herself thru a lot, heavy heavy drugs, terrible situations, then pulled her own ass out of it.
Tough kid.
Could kick the crap outta most guys, however quite fetching, like her mother, but not for sissy boys.
Still, we were not close, not like we both needed.

A while back we had a throw down, but it opened a door that was really never there before.
I wanna share a page (of many) from her ending Email.
Bear with me, or 'change channels' as I attempt to reach a parent of which may be attempting to reach a child.....an adult child.

There's always hope, always.

Pardon the text text











shortly after, we went shopping, and dining, and more shopping......many laughs, some tears.
Yeah, we still get into verbal fisticuffs, but now there's that door....it remains unlocked
I'm enjoying all that I own, the moment.

"Live in the sunshine, swim the sea, drink the wild air." Emerson