My parent's new TV.

Now before I start, I know that there's some of you that have already heard/read this story elsewhere... so just read it again and like it while all the rest read it for the first time. The reason that I'm telling this again at all is... there's a new turn of events because of it. So, it's lengthy, but if you've got aging parents I think you'll enjoy it.

This whole thing took place a few days before Christmas 07.

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My folk's watch a lot of television and had, until a few days before Christmas, a giant of a television. About 7 or 8 years ago Dad bought a monstrous rear projection television, the complete focal point of their living room, mind you it's a huge living room, but still. We used to joke that if they'd just turn the thing around we could see what they were watching from our house. We live 10 miles south of them. Anyway about a couple months ago Sally and I were over there and the picture was all hinky on their TV.

Me: "What's wrong with your television?"

Mom: "Nothing, why?"

Dad: (A little panicked) "What do you mean what's wrong with the television?"

Sally: "It's got double images that are blue"

Mom: "I don't see anything wrong"

Dad: (on the edge of his recliner now)"I think I see 'em."

Mom: "What are you all talking about?"

Me: "Your picture is all screwy, everything is in doubles only blue"

Dad: "It's gone now"

Sally: "No it's not."


And so on and so on... this continued until I said "I'm wrong, it looks good to me" and then I'm sure we talked about medicine or gas prices or how to cook deer meat. (which my Dad can go on about for like a half hour at a time, complete with hand gestures of applying salt, pepper and turning the meat in the skillet.)

The next Thursday morning the phone rings at the crack of dawn.

Dad "You need to come up here this morning, I want you to look at the television."

Me "Okay... it'll be a little later this afternoon"

Dad "What time?" (cause he wants it nailed down to an exact time so as not to interfere with one of his naps)

Me "When you see me"

So I go up later on and Dad leads me to the TV..... 'cause I can't find that monstrosity by myself, they move it around all the dang time just to surprise me when I come over.

I mess around with the thing for awhile trying to decide what's haywire. I ask Mom if she's got a pre-recorded Video somewhere in the mess.

Mom "What do you mean pre-recorded?"

Me "Like store bought, Mom. A tape with a movie already on it"

Mom "I haven't got a clue"

Me "Who would? Is there someone I could call?"


NOTE: Sarcasm flows heavily in my family


Mom toddles over to the bookcase by the TV and pulls out a VHS of First Knight and hands it to me.

Mom "I have no clue where this came from... I've never watched it. It's just always been there."

Me "We got it for you for Christmas once."

Mom "Oh, maybe I'll watch it someday"

Me "Now?"

Mom "No."

So I put the tape in and that eliminated the last thing.

Me "Okay guys, your TV is shot. Time for a new one"

Dad "What'll you give me for the old one?

Me "I wouldn't give you 2 cents for it."

Dad "I paid $2300 for that television"

Me "I bought a new truck in '78 for $7200. The Price is Right is over."

The next things that happened add to the entertainment of that day. My Dad wants me to look at one of the heaters (they have baseboard electric heat in their home) in the living room. I pull the cover off and check it with a meter. It's junk and needs replaced. Dad cusses and says... "Okay I want you to look at the woodstove in the basement and see what's wrong with it" I look at it and it's all juiced up with creosote. I tell Dad that he bought the real wrong wood stove for the way he likes to use em, he likes to have little 2 hour fires and nothing ever really gets hot. Dad cusses some more says "Well that one's for sale, I'll take $600 for it and I just paid $1300 for it last year" Then he says "The carbon monoxide detector needs a battery in it cause it's going Beep (long pause) Beep (long pause) Beep. I tell him to go get a new one cause it ain't got a battery, the module is going dead in it. Dad cusses some more.

Dad "You need to go back home now"

Me "You're the one that wanted me to come up here and look at your stuff"

Dad "I know, but all my stuff is broken and all you're doing is telling me it's broken"

Me "Sorry. I didn't break it. Maybe Mom did it."

Dad "Go get me a new TV, I'll pay you for it. Just get the biggest one."

Me "10-4!"

I love shopping for expensive things on other peoples money.

Fast forward to me dragging in a 47" Phillips flat screen monster TV. I get the thing all set up and trying to hook up the ultimate in technology to an antiquated VCR, satelite and misc other TV crapola, and having just one hell of a time getting it all figured out. Meanwhile this is going on behind me.

Dad (in his recliner with 3 remote controls on his lap waiting for new TV glory to come) "Okay so this new remote is blah blah blah and the old one done this like blah blah blah and I don't know what this one is for. Shirley, do you know what blah blah blah?"

Mom (who is laying on the couch watching me and carrying on her own conversation) "Jace blah blah blah and blah blah blah and Christmas and blah and television and blah blah blah and VCR and my program blah blah blah"

Me (disparately trying to think)" Mom, you need to be quiet for a little bit"

Mom "Well, when can I talk again?"

Me "When you see me put my coat back on to leave"

Dad "SEE SHIRLEY? I told you so"


I don't know what that meant but it cracked me up.


Mom "I want to talk now"

Me (just staring at the television but not really seeing it at this point)

It was then that God pushed a button on the remote control I had in my hand and the VCR came to life on the television.

Dad "I'll be damned! There comes another snowstorm out of the west for tonite!"

Mom "I'm tired of snow"

Me "Dad, Mom... that's the weather that you taped for some reason the other nite. It's playing on the VCR."

Mom "Giggles"

Dad "Well I was gonna say......"

In the end, their new TV works, they can make it do what it's supposed to do and currently there's not another damned snow coming out of the west.

Oh and they made me Oatmeal Raisin cookies too!

*sigh*


More to come later.

Things you'll see in a single guy's house.

We've got a friend, single divorced for quite awhile, so he's pretty settled into "being a guy" and doing things how he likes to do 'em. Biff (not his real name)(LOL) came by the other evening and visited with Sal and I for awhile and it reminded me of a Biff occurrence a couple years ago. (there are many. MANY.)

Now keep in mind that I owned a gunshop for 18 years and had a fairly large custom ammo business along with it... meaning I've seen a whole lotta things concerning guns and stuff and etc. So I'm pretty hardened to all things that are about guns, shooting, and all that.

Anyhow, couple of years ago I stopped by Biff's house, just to shoot the breeze a little while I was in the neighborhood. Biff's place is kinda like walking into a time warp, you could describe his decorating style as 1969 Brady Bunch Commando. Kinda weird, kinda cool. In all honesty, the place is just like it was when he acquired it, he just didn't see any need to go to a bunch of trouble redecorating.

In the course of my visit I needed to use the bathroom, so I strolled down the hallway to the guest bath and flip on the light and there is a rifle set up on the vanity. I stood there for a minute letting it all soak in, take care of business and then just sorta stand there for a couple more minutes. It was a curious sight.

I walk outta the bathroom and back in the living room.

Me: Biff, there's an FN FAL rifle sitting on your bathroom vanity.

Biff: Yes

Me: How come?

Biff: I was working on the front sight

Me: In the bathroom?

Biff: Yeah, the lights in there are really bright.

Me: Nice gun.

Biff: Thanks man.

Me: Looks pretty dang cool in there like that.

Biff: It's just temporary.


Me: Cool. Biff, I'm getting my camera.

Biff: Again?

Ahhhh Summertime.

This morning it started out in the low 60's, right now on my weather station it's 21* BELOW zero with wind chill. Sheesh! "Global Warming" my butt.

So for anyone freezing half to death tonite, I'll relate a story from when I was about 16 and it was a nice hot summer, Missouri day... and we'll see if we can get your mind offa that teeth chattering thing that's happening with you.

As a young man I abused myself fairly badly with a variety of motorcycles and with those motorcycles the accidents that go along with them when you're young, stupid and bulletproof.

On this particular day I was riding along happily on a two lane blacktop road near where I lived. The sun was shining, it was most likely in July or August... I don't remember that part. Probably all the brain damage.

As I rode along thinking about nothing in particular, I noticed that I was gonna be going by the Bentley Girls house. Now the Bentley girls, 2 sisters, were some quite fine specimens of lovely teenage ladies and this day.... this day I was in luck. As I approached their house, low and behold, there were the Bentley girls out in the driveway, washing their mothers car... in bikinis.

"Dear Lord, thank you for this moment in my young adolescent life and please make me look cool on this motorcycle. Amen"

I sorta laid into the throttle a bit, adjusted my posture, turned my head towards them and gave the most laid back, non committal, but oh so cool wave that a hormone driven young man can give. They both stopped what they were doing and waved exuberantly to me and watched as I rode by.

Awesome!

It was at this point that I turned my head back around and saw the curve in the road that I was already halfway into. I very probably muttered something to myself such as "oh heck" or "darn".

Let me describe this curve to you. It was a sharp curve, probably about 40 mph in a car and it was banked fairly steeply, like you'll see on Missouri back roads. Halfway thru this curve there was a gravel road that T'd into it. What this left, between the curve and the gravel road was a fairly large area, the shape of a triangle that was grassy. The drop off the steep curve to this grassy area was probably 15 feet or there abouts.

There was no way to get that fast moving bike around that curve and instead of laying it down I made the split second decision to launch it off the curve. Yes I did.

As I soared through the sky like a Dove or a carefree little Sparrow , seemingly gaining altitude with each passing second, several things went through my mind. First and foremost was "This one is really gonna hurt when I land." Second "The Bentley girls are watching this from their driveway... not cool." And third, I think I saw my deceased Grandma walking through the clouds of Heaven, as I sailed ever so high into the sky, with her hands on her hips and shaking her head at me as if to say "You're in trouble this time Mister!". The whole slow motion thing had set in, and I was up there watching the Earth pass below me in a surreal fashion, just sitting on the seat of my motorcycle like I had good sense.

And then, the Earth started closing in. I leaned back on the seat, tugging at the handle bars and then a miracle happened. A thing that very rarely happened to me when I was in a situation like this. I nailed a picture perfect landing. Perfect. Now I hit hard 'cause motorcycle suspensions were not what they are today way back then. But it was perfect.

As I was riding the rest of the way across the grassy triangle to the gravel road, I had time to once again reflect on things and the thing that I reflected on mostly was. "THAT HAD TO LOOK SO FREAKIN' COOL TO THE BENTLEY GIRLS!" I thought about turning around and going back up to their house just to chat with 'em and give them the chance to tell me how cool it was and all and then my Grandma thumped me.

See... there was this steel culvert that passed under that gravel road that protruded into the grassy triangle and it was totally obscured by... grass. I squared the end of that culvert with the front wheel of the bike and like a big ol hunk of meat flipped on the grill... I just flopped upside down in the middle of that gravel road, motorcycle on top of me.

Now this is the point where it just wasn't such a cool thing anymore and as briskly as I could I got up, checked for arterial bleeding, picked up the bike, started it, and rode off with about a 30 degree twist to the front forks and handle bars.

To this day, I don't know if the Bentley girls saw the whole thing. I doubt if they knew it was me, I had a helmet on... maybe they did, I dunno. Nothing was ever said if they did know it.

I Don't know where those girls are today, but I can still see them washing that car on that summer day.

Prosperity is just around the corner!

If y'all remember back here at this post my friend Gary and I we're looking forward to being on our way to being millionaires. Today... we're $233.65 closer to that goal!

Yesterday afternoon Gary and I stumbled around in the brush and weeds and trees, chainsaw in hand, at the wheel of the tractor, good intentions in our hearts, a song on our lips and beer in the truck. The object of our attention and wanton desire, you ask? A half buried, tree surrounded, mouse infested, rotten tired John Deere pull type combine.

It was love at first sight.

This piece of Americana was soon to be our trial run (and hopefully not simultaneously, our swan song) into our foray of becoming Junkyard Millionaires. 2 hours of flailing away at trees, yanking it outta the woods, bouncing it offa small trees, spinning alternate tractor tires on semi frozen Missouri clay, while Gary cheered me on, chainsaw in one hand raised beer in the other. It was beautiful man. Beeee you tiful.

We got it up to the road, pulled out the acetylene torch, hacked it in half in about 10 minutes, flipped it upside down and loaded her up on the newly aquired 16 foot tandem axle trailer. Good Lord it was magnificent.

Just look at it. Makes you kinda misty don't it?



We proudly pulled this combine to the recycling place to sit in a line of other junkyard millionaires....... 3 city blocks long. We were just a little amazed at this. And yes... $233.65 is what she brought. How do they pay you for a load of fineness such as this you ask? With green cash. Deniro. Moola. Franklins. Yesiree Bob, that don't require 2 ID's and your mom's signature.

We're on our way. Wednesday will be our next load. Yeeeee Haaaaawwwwww.

On another note, our dear friend Judy L. sent me an email tonite which simply asked "Jace can I borrow your picture for my blog?" Now Miss Judy's little blog is read pretty far and wide by a fairly large following of quilters... and I was a bit curious as to why gracing her very nice blog with my photograph would enhance things for her. LOL

As they say... "Hoo boy!"

Pete... It was our honor.

In one of those bizarre twists of life that blind side you and turn you inside out... we lost 2 pets in as many days. We're still reeling from the shock of it all and the quietness that our "children all grown, empty nest" lives have suddenly been struck with.

This is about Pete, a Border Collie of such impeccable standing, his presence would have been welcomed anywhere. He never met a stranger that he couldn't creep into their heart in the span of mere minutes. His ice breaker was to bring the new person that came into our yard a stick, lay it at their feet and give it the Border Collie stare at it until he willed them to toss it for him so that he could return it. It was his pleasure to give people this joy... people that he didn't even know, but I guarantee no one forgot Pete once they met him.

Pete came into my life in 1998 when Sally and the kids moved to Missouri and Sal and I started dating. The first time I met him was a repeat of the scene that I described above. He had made a couple of moves with Sal, but was still a young dog and so full of life... you just wanted him with you at all times so that you could watch him. The kids nickname for him was "Hockeydog" from the time that he was with them in MI, he'd be with them on frozen ponds and played Hockey with them for hours, until he decided that it was time to go home. He'd just pick up the puck and go to the house. Game over. Pete wins.

He loved to ride in the truck with me, but not in the back, he rode in the front seat, sitting up like a person watching the world go by him, hoping to see another dog in a yard or a rabbit make a hasty retreat out of the road, he had eyes like an eagle and reflexes fast as lightning.

His biggest joy, like most Border Collies was to be able to herd something... anything, it didn't matter to him. He'd move the sheep around, up at the farm he'd get around the cattle and put them where they needed to be. He'd herd the cats around the yard, we had chickens for several years and he'd herd those stupid chickens out of the barn and back in and back out, just to herd them. No other reason.

Once when I bought 3 new Angus bulls, it took Pete a solid week to "whip" one of them. A good Border Collie doesn't bite an animal it wants to herd unless they, as a last resort, need a nip. Pete in typical BC fashion would go into his crouch, his hunker... and lock eyes with the other animal until he would make them so uncomfortable with his stare, they'd do what he wanted. 2 of those bulls fell for his bluff right away and did his bidding, the third it was a battle. I have a picture that I can't locate of Pete, all 40 pounds of him, locked up nose to nose, literally touching, with an 1800 pound Angus bull, not the least bit fearful because he knew who the winner would be before he started. And after a week, he did win and bossed that bull wherever he wanted him to go.

Another time Pete went for a ride in my truck without me. I'd left it idling in the driveway to warm up, Pete had loaded up and was sitting in the passenger seat and didn't want to get out when I went back in the house to wait until it got warm. No sooner had I got back in the house than I looked out the window and there goes my truck, rolling backwards out the driveway, across the highway and into the gateway across the road where it hit the only thing that there was to hit for 40 acres, one lone osage orange fence post. I'll never forget the look on Pete's face through the windshield of the truck while he went for that ride. He looked rapidly side to side a few times then just sat and stared straight forward, until it crashed, with a disgusted "what the hell?" look on his face. Thinking about it right now gives me a smile.

This family has more smiles from that old dog than could ever be counted. You just smiled when you were with Petie.

The years were rough on him, he was an active dog. His hips were all but worn out from miles and miles of running... his teeth were broken and worn down like happens with farm dogs. His vision, once razor sharp was all but gone and the last few months he had a different look to him. His hearing was almost gone, only hearing the loudest of sounds... and he had cancer.

Pete went home to the Lord last night, I wrapped him in a quilt that Sally had done and buried him in the corner of the yard this morning.

Pete was a king among dogs... not just because he was ours, he was a king.

Pete
June 25 1995
January 25 2008



We'll see you later, boy.

The Governor Called At 11:59

So I mentioned a few days ago that I had a cow that was down, in the barn. A "down" cow is a cow that won't or can't get up... this one is a weird one, even for me.

One week ago today, I was feeding and I noticed an older cow limping in one front foot, so I pulled up beside her and Uncle Robert pulled up in his truck too. It was bitterly cold that morning and really, all I wanted to do was just get in where it was warm... but....

Robert: What do you think?

Me: I dunno. You notice her limping before today?

Robert: Nope. What now?

Me: (gritting my teeth) Let's take her to the barn.

So off we go, moving the old girl about 1/2 mile across the pasture and down the road to the barn. Now mind you, she's just not that bad, but I'm an old softy and I hate to see anything suffer if I can help it. About 20 minutes and a frozen face later, she's in the barn. Robert runs her down the back pen and back up the alley to the squeeze chute and I catch her.

She's in there and pretty good natured about the whole ordeal so far, I drop the kick panel on my side of the squeeze chute and pick up her foot and can't see a thing in the whole wide world of sports wrong with it. Nothing. It's swollen a little, but no cut, nothing stuck in it, nada. So, because I gotta do something for her, I clean her foot and squirt some Coppertox on it and give her a dose of LA-200... just because.

Now right here is where it goes all weird in Cowguy Land. I open up the headgate on the chute, she starts to step out, stumbles, falls and there she is. That's it. She won't/can't get up.

In all my years, and there's a lotta years, of working with cattle I have never seen anything like this before. Ever. She walks in, mostly healthy and falls out in paralysis. We mess around with her for quite a while and decide... to just let her stay there for awhile.

Day 2 is no different, she seems to enjoy having ground corn and hay and water brought to her. Her appetite is normal. She poops and pees like a cow should. No fever. No cough. No nuthin' that is abnormal other than she can't make her front legs work.

A call to the vet brings a "Huh?" response. That's comforting. The vet then says that something had to happen in the chute that caused swelling on her spinal cord. I've got no clue how that would've happened... but he says just to let her be and maybe if there's no damage other than some swelling somewhere, she'll get up in a day or two.

Let's just move on to today, it's been a week. We walk in the barn with the now usual routine of taking care of her needs and we're both standing there.... thinking the same thing. Sometimes life is a little harsh on the farm, but that's part of it.

I've cried over losing a cow before and probably will again before I'm done being a farmer.

Robert: So.....

Me: Yeah....

Robert: So....

Me: You know it's been a week now.

Robert: Yeah. I don't think she's gonna get up.

Me: Me neither. She's gotta be 'bout 10 years old by the looks of her mouth. I think it's time for her to go on home.

Robert: *nothing*

Me: I'll go to the truck and get my gun...

Folks, what happened next was nothing short of amazing. Before I had even turned to go to the truck..... she stood up.

Yes she did. Just like that.

She faltered around a bit and fell back down, but she stood up on her own and held it there for about 5 seconds.

I looked at Robert and he looked at me. We looked at the cow, we looked at each other. I said "I think that's the governor on the phone."

We'll see how it goes...

I'm Frozen

It was so miserable cold here today all I could think about is warm weather. Feeding the cows this morning just plain hurt. I was in such a funk about the cold I would've traded all the cold in Missouri for a roomful of horseflies... and horseflies make me crazy. I've never heard of anyone making a trade like that and I dunno if it's feasible, but by golly I'd have done it. If you know anyone that's got a lot of horseflies and plenty of heat, send 'em my way. I'll deal.

The thing with horseflies is they can land on you and you can't feel 'em. I have no clue how the hell they pull this off, the things are huge. And it's not just landing on me that bugs me, I could deal with that... it's the biting thing. They bite so hard you bleed, literally, they make you bleed. They'll even bite thru a shirt. I'd like to see a horsefly's mouth under a microscope 'cause I'd bet $3.50 they've got buck teeth, or vampire teeth or something.

Anyway, we get these things for about a month in late summer and they make it darn hard to work outside in the late afternoon for that month span. They'll also cause you to go just a little insane.

I ran across this video the other day. In the midst of insanity from the dang things, I caught a horsefly, then I made a little lasso for him, then I played "round 'em up." There's no sound so just hum the theme from Rawhide.



Thinking it over after all this, maybe I'd rather have the cold. Ask me tomorrow morning when I'm cold again.