Thursday, March 31, 2011
FEED YOUR FACE: Roasted Corn
I wish I had some corn right now. But our store does not have any at the moment. Otherwise, I would have some pictures to go with this. So, corn tastes great when roasted. One way is to peel back the husk and remove the silk. Then pull the husk back up over the ear of corn. You may have to maybe take some string and tie the husk to hold it in place. Then, dip your corn in water or let it soak for a few minutes. Grill the ears outside on your grill or place them on some flat stones around your campfire. Turn them every so often. You can also roast them in a cast iron skillet. Shuck it then roll it around in a hot buttered skillet. Or you can cut the kernels off and brown them up in your skillet with a dab of melted butter. 'Course, I like mine on the cob. With butter and some salt and pepper. You need to wear a short sleeved shirt, 'cause all that butter will be running down your arms. Or I guess you can just use a bunch of napkins if you prefer. When you get done eating all that corn, save the cobs. Make sure that you suck off all the butter first, and find a nice place to let them all dry out. No, we are not going to use them for wiping! Save them, get them dry, and we will make some corn cob pipes. And if you don't smoke, well sell them on ebay. How long has it been since you have seen someone smoke a corn cob pipe? It has been YEARS since I have. I even tried a corn cob pipe once. . .but that is a story for some other time.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
SOME OLD SAYINGS FROM DAYS GONE BY
Anybody can cook. You just have to know what good food tastes like. Them that works hard, eats hardy. And, from Mark Twain: Nothing helps scenery like ham and eggs. Lastly. . . An apple pie without some cheese, is like a kiss without a squeeze.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
NEAT IDEAS
The next time that you are on a camping or outdoor trip and it is time to roast a few dogs or some marshmallows, if the fire is too hot to hold your toasting fork near it, slip a large paper plate over the handle for a shield. Slide it towards your hand. It will protect your hand and your arm from the heat. If you have small ones about, do the cooking for them, as we do not want them to get the paper plate to close to the flames. That's all you need is some kids waving burning paper plates around. I lost a tent one time from something like this years ago. Needless to say the friend that caused this is no longer allowed to be near the fire when there are marshmallows to be cooked (though he is really good at catching fish). We now do all the cooking in camp. HHMMMM..... Now I wonder if he did it on purpose, so he no longer has to do any of the cooking on fishing trips!
Monday, March 28, 2011
QUOTE OF THE WEEK: 3/28/2011
"We have two ears and one mouth so that we can listen twice as much as we speak." -- Epictetus, Greek philosopher
Thursday, March 24, 2011
FIRE: Indian Gulch Wildfire
OK, I enjoy a nice campfire. And I enjoy a nice fire in my fireplace at home. I also enjoy a fire in our firepit outside in the back yard. I enjoy the smell of said fires. And while I enjoy these said fires, I have never had a stuffy nose or sneezed my head off or had a headache because of them.
But, since the Indian Gulch wildfire in Golden, Colorado, has been going, I have had headaches, stuffy nose, and sneezed my head off. I have blown my nose so much that it is redder than a fire truck. It's so red, I could replace Rudolph theRed Nosed Reindeer on Santa's sleigh.
My head is so stuffed that I can hear the ocean. I could swear that I heard whales and dolphins singing the other day. I have sneezed so much that I could power a windmill for a week. Ha! And everyone here in Colorado thinks that it is just the wind blowing.
Now, all joking aside. The fire in Golden is bad. I don't know what else it is burning, besides the usual stuff of trees, grass, weeds, flowers, and whatnot. It also has to be burning something else. Or it could be the fire retardant they are using. But it sure stinks worse than any camp fire I've ever smelled and it is very tough on people with breathing problems.
I swear that I have smelled burning tires that smell better than this fire. But once they get it put out, new grass will grow, new flowers will bloom, and the trees will spill their seeds for new growth. The critters will come back, too and make new homes.
People will be able to make it to the casinos easily again. Unless you just can't wait -- just take I-70.
But, since the Indian Gulch wildfire in Golden, Colorado, has been going, I have had headaches, stuffy nose, and sneezed my head off. I have blown my nose so much that it is redder than a fire truck. It's so red, I could replace Rudolph theRed Nosed Reindeer on Santa's sleigh.
My head is so stuffed that I can hear the ocean. I could swear that I heard whales and dolphins singing the other day. I have sneezed so much that I could power a windmill for a week. Ha! And everyone here in Colorado thinks that it is just the wind blowing.
Now, all joking aside. The fire in Golden is bad. I don't know what else it is burning, besides the usual stuff of trees, grass, weeds, flowers, and whatnot. It also has to be burning something else. Or it could be the fire retardant they are using. But it sure stinks worse than any camp fire I've ever smelled and it is very tough on people with breathing problems.
I swear that I have smelled burning tires that smell better than this fire. But once they get it put out, new grass will grow, new flowers will bloom, and the trees will spill their seeds for new growth. The critters will come back, too and make new homes.
People will be able to make it to the casinos easily again. Unless you just can't wait -- just take I-70.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
DID YOU KNOW? Lewis and Clark
Did you know that the expedition of Lewis and Clark, and the 33 adventurers who went along on the journey, were the best equipped hunting and fishing excursion ever? One of the most valued pieces of equipment along with them was a large sized Dutch Oven!
They also had an air rifle in 46 cal., along with their other firearms.
So, now you know.
They also had an air rifle in 46 cal., along with their other firearms.
So, now you know.
Monday, March 21, 2011
QUOTE OF THE WEEK: 3/21/2011
"People do not care how much you know until they know how much you care."
--John Maxwell, http://johnmaxwell.com
--John Maxwell, http://johnmaxwell.com
Thursday, March 17, 2011
ST. PATS DAY
Taters, corned beef, cabbage, and green beer. That's how to do Saint Paddy's day. Well, maybe. How about making a donation to your favorite charity today or tomorrow? Or if you are out and about for a meal, maybe pay for a veteran's meal. Or take a meal to someone who can't get out all that often. Or maybe stop by a nursing home with some flowers.
St. Patrick's day does not have to be about wearing of the green, though some of us do look real good in green. If you're out and about town or shopping put a BIG grin on your face today. People will smile back and some will wonder what you are up to. If they ask, smile even bigger and give them a hug, then skip away. You just might make someone's day who is feeling down or having a bad day. I did this several years ago and I got 3 proposals from ladies who were old enough to be my mom. 'Course, Kathi set them straight right away. My right ear lobe is still kind of stretched out from her pulling me down the aisle.
So, enjoy the day and be careful. That corned beef and cabbage can kind of sneak up on ya. So can all that green beer.
St. Patrick's day does not have to be about wearing of the green, though some of us do look real good in green. If you're out and about town or shopping put a BIG grin on your face today. People will smile back and some will wonder what you are up to. If they ask, smile even bigger and give them a hug, then skip away. You just might make someone's day who is feeling down or having a bad day. I did this several years ago and I got 3 proposals from ladies who were old enough to be my mom. 'Course, Kathi set them straight right away. My right ear lobe is still kind of stretched out from her pulling me down the aisle.
So, enjoy the day and be careful. That corned beef and cabbage can kind of sneak up on ya. So can all that green beer.
FISHING DAYS
OH YEAH! It is time to get out the fishin' sticks and get them ready. Check the line, clean the reel, and drag out the tackle box. Do you have enough hooks for the season? How do your lures look? Do they need a little shine put on them? How are your hip waders? Do they need any patching?
You got a boat? Time to check the motor. Check all your ropes. Don't forget about the drain plugs! Check your vests. Do they still fit? Oh -- the bait box! Did you forget to clean it out last season? If you didn't they will smell you from across the lake. 'Course that could be a good thing. You might chase off all the other fisherman, and then have the whole lake to yourself.
Bait. . . you have got to have some type of bait. Worms, crickets, power bait in all the good flavors that you just know the fish are going to like. Grasshoppers. Now, my wife would love for me to take ALL the grasshoppers from our yard and use them for bait. I told her if I do that, she better start to like to eat a LOT of fish.
Then you've got everything ready. You get up at the crack of dawn. You pack a lunch. You pick up your buddy. And away you go. You get to the lake, launch the boat, find a good spot, and start to fish. Then about mid morning, after you have caught a few fish, the game warden shows up, out on the lake, and asks for your fishing license. You go through all your pockets, you look through your tackle box. The warden gives you that funny little look and asks you to follow him to shore.
Once to shore, you check again, all your pockets, and tackle box, then check your truck. You even check out your cooler. Now, what in the world did you do with your license?! Did you leave it on the kitchen counter? Or, maybe, just by chance, you forgot to buy one to begin with.
Been there, done that. I'd better stop by the sporting goods store today.
You got a boat? Time to check the motor. Check all your ropes. Don't forget about the drain plugs! Check your vests. Do they still fit? Oh -- the bait box! Did you forget to clean it out last season? If you didn't they will smell you from across the lake. 'Course that could be a good thing. You might chase off all the other fisherman, and then have the whole lake to yourself.
Bait. . . you have got to have some type of bait. Worms, crickets, power bait in all the good flavors that you just know the fish are going to like. Grasshoppers. Now, my wife would love for me to take ALL the grasshoppers from our yard and use them for bait. I told her if I do that, she better start to like to eat a LOT of fish.
Then you've got everything ready. You get up at the crack of dawn. You pack a lunch. You pick up your buddy. And away you go. You get to the lake, launch the boat, find a good spot, and start to fish. Then about mid morning, after you have caught a few fish, the game warden shows up, out on the lake, and asks for your fishing license. You go through all your pockets, you look through your tackle box. The warden gives you that funny little look and asks you to follow him to shore.
Once to shore, you check again, all your pockets, and tackle box, then check your truck. You even check out your cooler. Now, what in the world did you do with your license?! Did you leave it on the kitchen counter? Or, maybe, just by chance, you forgot to buy one to begin with.
Been there, done that. I'd better stop by the sporting goods store today.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
GRILLIN' TIME IS ALMOST HERE!
The weather is getting warmer. It is about time to get the old grill ready for all that outdoor cooking. So grab a wire brush, put on your gloves, and get with it.
Be careful when you take that cover off. I once had a mouse who built a real nice home on the outside burner on my grill. I should have had my Dad, the last great hunter, there to back me up. That mouse scared the you know what out of me. You ever try to swat a mouse with a wire brush? I ruined the wire brush. But anyway be careful rven when you open the lid. I have had bee hives, wasp nests, and once a garter snake had made a home in the bottom of the grill, where the propane tank sets. Must have been really cozy for the winter.
The snake made me jump a bit, and that time I ruined a pumice scraper. So you might get a few extra wire brushes and scrapers for the summer, as they might be cheaper if you buy them by the dozen.
As you clean your grill, make sure that you check the propane tanks, the lines, the burners, and other parts of your grill. Tighten any loose screws or bolts. Check the hinges on the lid. And if you have a charcoal gril, check handles, brackets that hold the grates in place, and tighten all loose screws and bolts. Also check any leftover charcoal bricks from last year, as sometimes you will have spiders and such in the bag. Check last year's lighter fluid to make sure you have enough, and because sometimes it goes bad and won't start a fire. If your grates are really bad and rusty, replace them. If you use lava rock in your grill, check that also. You might need to add some.
As we get more warm weather, I start to think about things to grill. Get a notebook. Write down the things that you think about grilling. Maybe add some new stuff to your grilling list. What kinds of rubs are you going to use this year? Now is the time to start making your own, or maybe getting some of the store-bought kind. Try something new and different this year -- something that maybe has kind of scared you in the past. Invite some family over and experiment on them.
Don't forget to get some of your cast iron ready also for outdoor cooking. I have several grills and smokers, plus an area for cast iron cooking. I will be posting some outdoor cast iron cooking ideas for use on your grill or outdoor fire place. I'm starting to drool a bit just thinking about it, so I'd better quit before I short out the key board.
So, get them grills ready! And let's all get ready to. . . FEED OUR FACES!
Be careful when you take that cover off. I once had a mouse who built a real nice home on the outside burner on my grill. I should have had my Dad, the last great hunter, there to back me up. That mouse scared the you know what out of me. You ever try to swat a mouse with a wire brush? I ruined the wire brush. But anyway be careful rven when you open the lid. I have had bee hives, wasp nests, and once a garter snake had made a home in the bottom of the grill, where the propane tank sets. Must have been really cozy for the winter.
The snake made me jump a bit, and that time I ruined a pumice scraper. So you might get a few extra wire brushes and scrapers for the summer, as they might be cheaper if you buy them by the dozen.
As you clean your grill, make sure that you check the propane tanks, the lines, the burners, and other parts of your grill. Tighten any loose screws or bolts. Check the hinges on the lid. And if you have a charcoal gril, check handles, brackets that hold the grates in place, and tighten all loose screws and bolts. Also check any leftover charcoal bricks from last year, as sometimes you will have spiders and such in the bag. Check last year's lighter fluid to make sure you have enough, and because sometimes it goes bad and won't start a fire. If your grates are really bad and rusty, replace them. If you use lava rock in your grill, check that also. You might need to add some.
As we get more warm weather, I start to think about things to grill. Get a notebook. Write down the things that you think about grilling. Maybe add some new stuff to your grilling list. What kinds of rubs are you going to use this year? Now is the time to start making your own, or maybe getting some of the store-bought kind. Try something new and different this year -- something that maybe has kind of scared you in the past. Invite some family over and experiment on them.
Don't forget to get some of your cast iron ready also for outdoor cooking. I have several grills and smokers, plus an area for cast iron cooking. I will be posting some outdoor cast iron cooking ideas for use on your grill or outdoor fire place. I'm starting to drool a bit just thinking about it, so I'd better quit before I short out the key board.
So, get them grills ready! And let's all get ready to. . . FEED OUR FACES!
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
GIRL SCOUT COOKIES
Who does not like Girl Scout Cookies? I think I may have found the next new diet. Yep, thin mints. I love the thin mint cookies. Only problem, the boxes are now smaller, and that means less cookies. So we have to buy more boxes of cookies, to make up for the new smaller boxes.
Plus, that means we lose a little weight from our wallets. I remember when I could buy a box of thin mints for $1.00. Course that was way back in the late sixties. Now I don't know if this will work, with all the other type of cookies they have, but I'm willing to sacrifice myself to find out if this new diet plan works. I have not figured out the quantity to eat every day. I am still working on it. I also am not sure what the weight loss will be after so many weeks. So, there will be some trial and error along the way.
I figure that if this works, the girl scouts should be able to afford all kinds of new stuff. Who knows! I might even get my picture on the cookie boxes. Now I just need to see if I can get some family support, to see if they would be willing to purchase some extra boxes of thin mints for this project.
Let's see. . . one box per meal, plus half a box per snack, twice a day. Oh yeah, Don't forget the milk.
Plus, that means we lose a little weight from our wallets. I remember when I could buy a box of thin mints for $1.00. Course that was way back in the late sixties. Now I don't know if this will work, with all the other type of cookies they have, but I'm willing to sacrifice myself to find out if this new diet plan works. I have not figured out the quantity to eat every day. I am still working on it. I also am not sure what the weight loss will be after so many weeks. So, there will be some trial and error along the way.
I figure that if this works, the girl scouts should be able to afford all kinds of new stuff. Who knows! I might even get my picture on the cookie boxes. Now I just need to see if I can get some family support, to see if they would be willing to purchase some extra boxes of thin mints for this project.
Let's see. . . one box per meal, plus half a box per snack, twice a day. Oh yeah, Don't forget the milk.
Monday, March 14, 2011
Thursday, March 10, 2011
METAL DETECTING
A gentleman from somewhere around the small town of Washington on the South Fork of the Yuba river, in Nevada County, California, was metal detecting some old mine tailing piles. Struck it rich. He found a 100 oz nugget of gold, valued at $135.000. This hummer weighs in at over 6 pounds!Now just think of all the things that you could do if you found this. I would love to find just a few ounces of the yellow stuff. But, of course, I do not live in California. So I will stick to the stuff that I can find here in Colorado.
Some of the things that I have been able to metal detect are:
Pop tops (lots & lots of pop tops)
fishing sinkers
pennies, nickels, dimes, quarters (from modern back to the 1940's
toy cars
keys
washers
nails
a gold pocket watch
rings, earrings, a chain, necklace
tent stakes
foil
rat tail file
and -- did I mention? -- pop tops (they seem to be everywhere)
Not to mention the things you just see on the ground sometimes. I found $20.00 on the ground one day; it was in the gutter.
Marbles. I have found lots of marbles, pop cans, pop bottles (you used to get a deposit for those)
Think about the yard around your house. How old is your house? Is there a vacant lot near your home? Once, when helping my grandmother break ground for a new flower garden, we dug up 3 little toy cars. The spot that we dug was right next to a big old elm tree. It gave great shade in the summer. I have often wondered about the toy cars. I still have them to this day.
When I come across them now, I wonder how many hours of play did some child have with these? Was the child a he or a she? What did s/he look like?
I also dug up, in grandmother's backyard, some broken china from a play tea set. It had one little tea cup with no handle, a few shards of what I think were from a saucer or two, and the spout off the teapot itself. I kept those also and still have them, put away in the stuff that I have hauled around with me since I was about seven years old.
To some, it may seem like so much trash. To me, it was -- and still is -- treasure. I enjoy metal detecting and have taught Kathi to metal detect. The first time she used her metal detector, she discovered over $4 in change along our driveway. It is fun and you get some good exercise along the way.
There are so many different places to detect, like beaches, lakes, parks, campgrounds. There are even trips you can take to detect old ghost towns or civil war areas. Some places are even older.
Just check out a local metal detector shop or group. If you know of someone who lost a ring, you can have these people come out and look for it for you. Maybe rent one and take a class on how to use it. It is not all that hard. And who knows? Maybe you will find your very own piece of history, right in your own backyard!
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
SPRING IS COMING
Spring is on its way. Just the other day, Kathi and I were working in our backyard. And it happened. I got a big whiff. Maybe it was on the wind. Or maybe it was from raking leaves. Or, it could have been just wishful thinking on my part.
It will not be long before spring is upon us. Time to start gardens of flowers and veggies. To dig into that dark rich soil, that brings forth the bounty that we place on our tables and share with family and friends.
Dark rich soil that we have worked hard to place seeds of beauty and grace. Flowers that we give to family and friends and place on our tables, and on loved one's graves --those who are no longer with us. The food that we receive from the dark rich soil that feeds our bodies. The little sprouts that we lovingly nourish and take care of so that they feed us.
To me there is nothing like digging in the dirt. Whether it is to plant flower seeds or plant a vegetable garden, or just to get some worms for fishing. It brings forth memories of playing in the dirt as a child. Of helping my great grandparents start the vegetable garden. Of the smell of the soil. The coolness of it as it sifts through your fingers.
Have you ever heard a plow going through the soil? It is a sound that you will never forget. And the smell of the first turned soil of spring. I can close my eyes and swear that I can smell it now. Even as I set and write this it is something to behold and it touches my inner-most being.
My great grandparents and grandparents are gone. My parents are getting to the age that they will not be able to garden much longer. My Dad speaks more often of being on the farm of my great grandparents as a small boy. You can see the far off look on his face as he remembers parts of his younger childhood.
Memories like that of Papa carrying him in his pajamas out to the watermelon patch. Papa would thump watermelons until he found a good ripe one. He would then set my dad on the ground. Papa would take out his pocket knife and cut out a chunk of watermelon for each of them and they'd set right there on the ground and eat. Once they ate what they wanted from one melon, Papa would turn the melon face down in the dirt and they would go and find another ripe melon. My Dad swears that they ate at least a dozen melons that way, but he really knows that it was more like two or three at the most.
Gardening is hard work, but the rewards are many. And tasty, also. It seems that when you have your own garden the veggies taste better. The tomatoes are sweeter, the onions are more crisp, the lettuce more tender. It just kind of makes your mouth water just thinking about it.
If your garden is just flowers, think of how they light up your yard and home. Flowers seem to say that here is a home with love. A person who loves nature and it's beauty. Someone who took the time to plant them. It seems to put a smile on your face when you see them.
Yeah, spring is on the way. Hope that all of you have figured out what to plant, whether it be veggies or flowers or both. It is time to do some gardening exercising. kneeling, some arm curls, and some lower back exercises also.
So when you hit the ground running and are ready to dig, take a moment to take a deep breath, and exhale slowly, and when you take that first shovel of dirt, take a handful, and smell it.
Does it not smell of spring and good things to come?
It will not be long before spring is upon us. Time to start gardens of flowers and veggies. To dig into that dark rich soil, that brings forth the bounty that we place on our tables and share with family and friends.
Dark rich soil that we have worked hard to place seeds of beauty and grace. Flowers that we give to family and friends and place on our tables, and on loved one's graves --those who are no longer with us. The food that we receive from the dark rich soil that feeds our bodies. The little sprouts that we lovingly nourish and take care of so that they feed us.
To me there is nothing like digging in the dirt. Whether it is to plant flower seeds or plant a vegetable garden, or just to get some worms for fishing. It brings forth memories of playing in the dirt as a child. Of helping my great grandparents start the vegetable garden. Of the smell of the soil. The coolness of it as it sifts through your fingers.
Have you ever heard a plow going through the soil? It is a sound that you will never forget. And the smell of the first turned soil of spring. I can close my eyes and swear that I can smell it now. Even as I set and write this it is something to behold and it touches my inner-most being.
My great grandparents and grandparents are gone. My parents are getting to the age that they will not be able to garden much longer. My Dad speaks more often of being on the farm of my great grandparents as a small boy. You can see the far off look on his face as he remembers parts of his younger childhood.
Memories like that of Papa carrying him in his pajamas out to the watermelon patch. Papa would thump watermelons until he found a good ripe one. He would then set my dad on the ground. Papa would take out his pocket knife and cut out a chunk of watermelon for each of them and they'd set right there on the ground and eat. Once they ate what they wanted from one melon, Papa would turn the melon face down in the dirt and they would go and find another ripe melon. My Dad swears that they ate at least a dozen melons that way, but he really knows that it was more like two or three at the most.
Gardening is hard work, but the rewards are many. And tasty, also. It seems that when you have your own garden the veggies taste better. The tomatoes are sweeter, the onions are more crisp, the lettuce more tender. It just kind of makes your mouth water just thinking about it.
If your garden is just flowers, think of how they light up your yard and home. Flowers seem to say that here is a home with love. A person who loves nature and it's beauty. Someone who took the time to plant them. It seems to put a smile on your face when you see them.
Yeah, spring is on the way. Hope that all of you have figured out what to plant, whether it be veggies or flowers or both. It is time to do some gardening exercising. kneeling, some arm curls, and some lower back exercises also.
So when you hit the ground running and are ready to dig, take a moment to take a deep breath, and exhale slowly, and when you take that first shovel of dirt, take a handful, and smell it.
Does it not smell of spring and good things to come?
Monday, March 7, 2011
QUOTE OF THE WEEK: 3/7/2011
"Once you learn to quit, it becomes a habit."
-- Vince Lombardi (1913 - 1966)
-- Vince Lombardi (1913 - 1966)
Friday, March 4, 2011
NO SMOKING ALLOWED
Back in the '70s, a friend of mine (Gary) had a 1964 Chevy Impala Super Sport. It was maroon with a silver interior and lots of chrome. A two speed tranny and, I think, a 327 under the hood. It was his pride and joy, and we did a lot of cruising around town.
A few of us back then, while in high school, held jobs. I worked at Safeway as a bagger. I was paid $1.65 a hour, which was minimum wage back then. It paid for gas for my Chevelle and beer for whenever, as well as putting some money aside for going out to have fun.
Well, my friend Gary came by our house one afternoon and parked in our driveway. He asked if I had any tools. He said that his car was running a little rough, and wanted to see about adjusting the carb a little. 'Course I didn't have any tools, but my Dad did, so I asked him if it was alright to borrow some of them. He said go ahead, but to make sure that they are put back where they belong.
So Gary had the hood up, and he was leaning under the hood. I was leaning on the front fender, and was looking on as he worked on the carburetor. Gary had some carburetor cleaner, and he sprayed a little on it and was wiping off some grime when my Dad came out to see what we were doing.
Now, back in the '70s, guys had long hair and some of us had even managed to grow what was supposed to be a beard or mustache or both. Gary was one of those who could. I, on the other hand, hadn't started to shave yet -- nothing but peach fuzz from ear to ear.
So, my Dad came out to see what was going on. Gary and I were under the hood. My Dad walked up to the car with a lit cigarette and WHOOSH -- fire ball under the hood! We jumped back. My Dad let out a few of his choice words as he hit the ground. The fire ball lasted maybe 5 to 10 seconds.
I swatted at my arms at the hair that was burning off of them. Gary, on the other hand, was slapping his face, none to gently. His beard, mustache, eyebrows, and about half his hair went POOF! Gone! He had all of these little black things all over his face as well as a very funny look.
My Dad picked himself up off the ground, and asked what the heck just happened?! I was looking at Gary and Gary was looking at me. Have you ever seen someone without eyebrows make a face of bewilderment? Now, that is something everyone should see at least once in your life time!
I don't know who started to giggle first, me or Gary, as we were pointing at each other. My Dad was kind of bent over, looking under the hood, and had not really looked at us yet. We started to laugh and my Dad finally looked at us. First at me, then at Gary. The color left my Dad's face, and Gary felt his face.
He let out a holler and put his hands where his beard used to be. Boy, howdy, he hollered again, and looked in the side view mirror. I thought that he was going to cry. He had started that beard back in junior high. And now it was gone. Well, and a lot of his hair also.
Then he pointed at me. Besides having all the hair on my arms gone, I was minus half an eyebrow and some hair from the side of my head. I looked in the mirror.
The color came back to my Dad's face and he asked again what had happened. He said he thought that the car had blown up and said that he may have to go and put on some clean underwear. He then proceeded to say how sorry he was, over and over. Gary and I did not really hear him much, 'cause we were still laughing and pointing at each other.
We finally calmed down enough, then wiped tears from our faces. My Dad kept on saying how sorry he was. It was then that Gary thought of his car. He jumped up on the bumper and inspected the engine. All seemed okay. As we stood there, my Dad offered to help. Gary told him to see if the car would start and he would watch to see if we had another fire, not realizing that it was from the cleaner and Dad's lit cigarette that caused the flash fire.
I couldn't help myself. As Dad hit the starter and Gary was looking under the hood, I hollered WHOOSH! Gary jumped about 10 feet off the ground. I got a punch in the arm for that, but I thought it was funny at the time.
We got Gary's car running better than it was when he got there and Dad offered to go to Gary's house to explain what had happened.
I went and got a haircut.
Gary should have taken my Dad's offer. Monday at school Gary was a no-show. Same on Tuesday and Wednesday. Thursday morning he showed up at school, clean shaven and wearing a wool ski cap on his head. He had it pulled down low enough that you could not see that his eyebrows were gone. He wore that ski cap for several weeks and it wasn't even winter time.
His hair grew out, and he grew a new beard and mustache. I think that it looked a lot better than the first one. Maybe that flash fire was a good thing! 'Course, when he would come to our house after that he gave my Dad a wide berth. Dad told him that if he ever wanted to work on his car at our house that he would just watch from the front porch.
Gary still has his beard and long hair. I wonder if he has ever thinks about that day. I will ask him the next time I talk to him!
A few of us back then, while in high school, held jobs. I worked at Safeway as a bagger. I was paid $1.65 a hour, which was minimum wage back then. It paid for gas for my Chevelle and beer for whenever, as well as putting some money aside for going out to have fun.
Well, my friend Gary came by our house one afternoon and parked in our driveway. He asked if I had any tools. He said that his car was running a little rough, and wanted to see about adjusting the carb a little. 'Course I didn't have any tools, but my Dad did, so I asked him if it was alright to borrow some of them. He said go ahead, but to make sure that they are put back where they belong.
So Gary had the hood up, and he was leaning under the hood. I was leaning on the front fender, and was looking on as he worked on the carburetor. Gary had some carburetor cleaner, and he sprayed a little on it and was wiping off some grime when my Dad came out to see what we were doing.
Now, back in the '70s, guys had long hair and some of us had even managed to grow what was supposed to be a beard or mustache or both. Gary was one of those who could. I, on the other hand, hadn't started to shave yet -- nothing but peach fuzz from ear to ear.
So, my Dad came out to see what was going on. Gary and I were under the hood. My Dad walked up to the car with a lit cigarette and WHOOSH -- fire ball under the hood! We jumped back. My Dad let out a few of his choice words as he hit the ground. The fire ball lasted maybe 5 to 10 seconds.
I swatted at my arms at the hair that was burning off of them. Gary, on the other hand, was slapping his face, none to gently. His beard, mustache, eyebrows, and about half his hair went POOF! Gone! He had all of these little black things all over his face as well as a very funny look.
My Dad picked himself up off the ground, and asked what the heck just happened?! I was looking at Gary and Gary was looking at me. Have you ever seen someone without eyebrows make a face of bewilderment? Now, that is something everyone should see at least once in your life time!
I don't know who started to giggle first, me or Gary, as we were pointing at each other. My Dad was kind of bent over, looking under the hood, and had not really looked at us yet. We started to laugh and my Dad finally looked at us. First at me, then at Gary. The color left my Dad's face, and Gary felt his face.
He let out a holler and put his hands where his beard used to be. Boy, howdy, he hollered again, and looked in the side view mirror. I thought that he was going to cry. He had started that beard back in junior high. And now it was gone. Well, and a lot of his hair also.
Then he pointed at me. Besides having all the hair on my arms gone, I was minus half an eyebrow and some hair from the side of my head. I looked in the mirror.
The color came back to my Dad's face and he asked again what had happened. He said he thought that the car had blown up and said that he may have to go and put on some clean underwear. He then proceeded to say how sorry he was, over and over. Gary and I did not really hear him much, 'cause we were still laughing and pointing at each other.
We finally calmed down enough, then wiped tears from our faces. My Dad kept on saying how sorry he was. It was then that Gary thought of his car. He jumped up on the bumper and inspected the engine. All seemed okay. As we stood there, my Dad offered to help. Gary told him to see if the car would start and he would watch to see if we had another fire, not realizing that it was from the cleaner and Dad's lit cigarette that caused the flash fire.
I couldn't help myself. As Dad hit the starter and Gary was looking under the hood, I hollered WHOOSH! Gary jumped about 10 feet off the ground. I got a punch in the arm for that, but I thought it was funny at the time.
We got Gary's car running better than it was when he got there and Dad offered to go to Gary's house to explain what had happened.
I went and got a haircut.
Gary should have taken my Dad's offer. Monday at school Gary was a no-show. Same on Tuesday and Wednesday. Thursday morning he showed up at school, clean shaven and wearing a wool ski cap on his head. He had it pulled down low enough that you could not see that his eyebrows were gone. He wore that ski cap for several weeks and it wasn't even winter time.
His hair grew out, and he grew a new beard and mustache. I think that it looked a lot better than the first one. Maybe that flash fire was a good thing! 'Course, when he would come to our house after that he gave my Dad a wide berth. Dad told him that if he ever wanted to work on his car at our house that he would just watch from the front porch.
Gary still has his beard and long hair. I wonder if he has ever thinks about that day. I will ask him the next time I talk to him!
Thursday, March 3, 2011
DID YOU KNOW? Fish. . .
"Did you know that fish are attracted to water?"
--Lynn Nevin (my sister) (1956- )
--Lynn Nevin (my sister) (1956- )
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
LAST OF THE GREAT HUNTERS
My parents moved out of Colorado in 1975 to a tiny little town called Green Forest, Arkansas: 120 acres of hilly ground. My Dad had always wanted to have a farm of some type.
So we packed up everything and I helped them move, then I came back to Denver, because I was 18 and full of wild oats. I needed to sow them oats. But that's a different story.
My Dad and Mom went whole hog, so to speak. They bought a few head of cows. Mom had them all named within a week. They got some chickens and Mom named them all, too. Then they got some pigs, and Mom named them. They put in a 100' by 100' garden, just for the two of them. Mom had no idea what she was in for.
So, those of you who have lived on a farm or ranch or in the country know what it takes to live that kind of life. (I wish I could do it myself right now.) There are all kinds of things that you have to put up with, and do, to make it all work.
Well, they had been farming for a few years and Mom was still getting used to being on a farm. The farm had grown. Cows, chickens, pigs, dogs, cats, and racoons, snakes, and mice -- just about any other type of critter you can think of.
One evening they were watching TV. The TV sat between two doorways. The doorways led to the bedrooms. As they were watching TV, this little mouse poked his head around the doorframe and looked about, then ducked back into the bedroom. About a minute later, he did it again, and then ran like the dickens, out of the bedroom, under the TV, and into the other bedroom, his little feet sliding on the tile floor as he ran.
Mom let out a screech, which made my Dad jump. He asked her what she was hollering about, and she told him about the mouse running under the TV. Dad said he would take care of it in the morning. So they settled down and kept watching TV. Pretty soon, the little mouse poked his head out of the room he had run to, and ducked back. About 30 seconds later, here he came, little feet sliding on the floor as before, under the TV and back into the room he had started from. Mom hollered again. And Dad jumped again. She made a comment about the mouse, and my Dad said he would take care of it.
This little mouse made about six different trips under the TV. Going back and forth from bedroom to bedroom. And Mom hollered each time. My Dad just sat there and kept watching TV. By then Mom was about to burst. She is one of those people who want things done, like NOW! So at the next commercial, my Dad got up and left the room. Mom went into the kitchen for some more hot tea. When she came back to set down, my Dad was in his chair, and had out his old 22 rifle.
He was seated in his recliner, with the foot rest up, the barrel of the rifle between his feet, and the butt of the rifle was in his lap. When Mom came in from the kitchen with her hot tea, she did not see the rifle in my Dad's lap. There they sat, watching TV. Pretty soon, the little mouse showed his face again, from the bedroom. My Dad was waiting, not watching TV. The mouse gave a leap, and he was off, under the TV, and into the other bedroom. Mom hollered, and my Dad said he would take care of it, and to quit the damn hollering every time the mouse showed up. Course, she lets out a little scream every time the phone rings (she's been a nervous type all these years).
As they were finishing up their show, the little mouse reappeared from the other bedroom and started his run under the TV. All of a sudden, there was a POP. Mom screamed and the mouse didn't make it to the other bedroom. My Dad had shot a mouse in the house!
No traps for this man. He is a man's man. (This is wear you are supposed to make a grunting noises like Tim Allen, from the show Tool Time.)
The rifle he used was as old as I am. It shoots 22 longs, shorts, and long rifle. He had loaded it up with one round of what is called rat shot. It is itty bitty, and I mean really small BBs. A few days after the great hunter had taken care of the rodent problem I got a phone call from Mom and Dad. Mom proceeded to tell me the whole story. And, of course, the great hunter did not say a word.
It was several weeks later that I made a trip to Mom and Dad's. The drive down was OK, except for crossing Kansas. It seems that it takes forever to get across. I would swear that I saw the same cow 5 times, and he was standing facing east every time. I think that they were longing for Colorado and the stock show.
When I pulled up to the house I had hardly gotten out of my car when I was grabbed by my Dad, dragged into the house, and made to get on my hands and knees to try to crawl under the TV. He was on his hands and knees with me, pointing to the base board on the right side of the TV. He had taken a pencil and circled the spot where he had done in the little mouse. As I was looking, I could see, just barely, the tiny little holes in the baseboard. Six little holes that looked like someone had poked the base board with a safety pin or something. He then proceeded to tell me, all over again, his side of the story.
It was pretty much the same as what Mom had said on the phone weeks before. But listening to him tell it, and the excitement in his voice, you would have thought that he had gone on safari or something. He was really proud of himself. 'Course so was Mom. And she told just about everyone she could get a hold of. I am sure that just about everyone in town knew about the great hunter. Plus, they never had any more mice in the house. In fact, the pack rat that lived in the wall by the front door must have moved out. My Dad said they never heard him any more in the wall after he got the mouse.
Mom still squeals at door bells, the phone ringing, and other noises. But she doesn't when there are mice around. I guess she finally got used to them on the farm. And my Dad has not been hunting for several years now. I guess that the mice in Loveland have heard of the great hunter, 'cause they haven't had any there!
So we packed up everything and I helped them move, then I came back to Denver, because I was 18 and full of wild oats. I needed to sow them oats. But that's a different story.
My Dad and Mom went whole hog, so to speak. They bought a few head of cows. Mom had them all named within a week. They got some chickens and Mom named them all, too. Then they got some pigs, and Mom named them. They put in a 100' by 100' garden, just for the two of them. Mom had no idea what she was in for.
So, those of you who have lived on a farm or ranch or in the country know what it takes to live that kind of life. (I wish I could do it myself right now.) There are all kinds of things that you have to put up with, and do, to make it all work.
Well, they had been farming for a few years and Mom was still getting used to being on a farm. The farm had grown. Cows, chickens, pigs, dogs, cats, and racoons, snakes, and mice -- just about any other type of critter you can think of.
One evening they were watching TV. The TV sat between two doorways. The doorways led to the bedrooms. As they were watching TV, this little mouse poked his head around the doorframe and looked about, then ducked back into the bedroom. About a minute later, he did it again, and then ran like the dickens, out of the bedroom, under the TV, and into the other bedroom, his little feet sliding on the tile floor as he ran.
Mom let out a screech, which made my Dad jump. He asked her what she was hollering about, and she told him about the mouse running under the TV. Dad said he would take care of it in the morning. So they settled down and kept watching TV. Pretty soon, the little mouse poked his head out of the room he had run to, and ducked back. About 30 seconds later, here he came, little feet sliding on the floor as before, under the TV and back into the room he had started from. Mom hollered again. And Dad jumped again. She made a comment about the mouse, and my Dad said he would take care of it.
This little mouse made about six different trips under the TV. Going back and forth from bedroom to bedroom. And Mom hollered each time. My Dad just sat there and kept watching TV. By then Mom was about to burst. She is one of those people who want things done, like NOW! So at the next commercial, my Dad got up and left the room. Mom went into the kitchen for some more hot tea. When she came back to set down, my Dad was in his chair, and had out his old 22 rifle.
He was seated in his recliner, with the foot rest up, the barrel of the rifle between his feet, and the butt of the rifle was in his lap. When Mom came in from the kitchen with her hot tea, she did not see the rifle in my Dad's lap. There they sat, watching TV. Pretty soon, the little mouse showed his face again, from the bedroom. My Dad was waiting, not watching TV. The mouse gave a leap, and he was off, under the TV, and into the other bedroom. Mom hollered, and my Dad said he would take care of it, and to quit the damn hollering every time the mouse showed up. Course, she lets out a little scream every time the phone rings (she's been a nervous type all these years).
As they were finishing up their show, the little mouse reappeared from the other bedroom and started his run under the TV. All of a sudden, there was a POP. Mom screamed and the mouse didn't make it to the other bedroom. My Dad had shot a mouse in the house!
No traps for this man. He is a man's man. (This is wear you are supposed to make a grunting noises like Tim Allen, from the show Tool Time.)
The rifle he used was as old as I am. It shoots 22 longs, shorts, and long rifle. He had loaded it up with one round of what is called rat shot. It is itty bitty, and I mean really small BBs. A few days after the great hunter had taken care of the rodent problem I got a phone call from Mom and Dad. Mom proceeded to tell me the whole story. And, of course, the great hunter did not say a word.
It was several weeks later that I made a trip to Mom and Dad's. The drive down was OK, except for crossing Kansas. It seems that it takes forever to get across. I would swear that I saw the same cow 5 times, and he was standing facing east every time. I think that they were longing for Colorado and the stock show.
When I pulled up to the house I had hardly gotten out of my car when I was grabbed by my Dad, dragged into the house, and made to get on my hands and knees to try to crawl under the TV. He was on his hands and knees with me, pointing to the base board on the right side of the TV. He had taken a pencil and circled the spot where he had done in the little mouse. As I was looking, I could see, just barely, the tiny little holes in the baseboard. Six little holes that looked like someone had poked the base board with a safety pin or something. He then proceeded to tell me, all over again, his side of the story.
It was pretty much the same as what Mom had said on the phone weeks before. But listening to him tell it, and the excitement in his voice, you would have thought that he had gone on safari or something. He was really proud of himself. 'Course so was Mom. And she told just about everyone she could get a hold of. I am sure that just about everyone in town knew about the great hunter. Plus, they never had any more mice in the house. In fact, the pack rat that lived in the wall by the front door must have moved out. My Dad said they never heard him any more in the wall after he got the mouse.
Mom still squeals at door bells, the phone ringing, and other noises. But she doesn't when there are mice around. I guess she finally got used to them on the farm. And my Dad has not been hunting for several years now. I guess that the mice in Loveland have heard of the great hunter, 'cause they haven't had any there!
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