The old farmhouse and barn are gone; the crossties from the railroad are probably being used for landscaping or maybe fence posts. The rails were probably melted and new stuff made from the steel. The old swimming hole survived; it is still where it was on my last visit there more than a half century ago.

We just called it “Coon Creek”; a deep hole in a small creek by the Santa Fe railroad in southwest Pottawatomie County. To a bunch of country kids that didn’t know about backyard pools, and the closest public pool was 20 miles away, it was a good place to swim; bathing suits were optional.

I have a lot of memories of time spent there. Most of those memories are good; a place to cool off on a hot summer day, a place to make big plans for the future or lie about yesterday or to just kill an afternoon with good friends.

One of those memories wasn’t funny at the time; about six of us decided it would be more fun to swim than to go to class. We were very surprised when the school superintendent walked under the tracks and around the bluff and said in that all too familiar voice “You guys get your clothes on and drop by my office when you get back to school. I got to sign that big old paddle one more time.

I mentioned the thing was deep. It was real deep, probably 25 or 30 feet; one of our many little tests of skill was to touch the bottom of the thing. To prove you had been there you had to bring some mud to the top with you. Although no one admitted it I think we would agree it was very cold, dark and scary at the bottom. The return to the surface from that depth was a struggle filled with apprehension; you held your breath, you did it alone; seemed like it took forever but it was only a few seconds. I remember relief in seeing light through the surface, and the huge breath of fresh air as I wiped the water from my face and the hair out of my eyes. It was also possible to find that cold dark bottom if you misjudged where that hidden ledge was over on the north side.

Thank you Google Maps for facilitating the trip down memory lane and for the picture.

Is it OK if I move from the literal swimming hole of my youth to the figurative swimming hole of life?

My years in life’s swimming hole are not unlike those days at Coon Creek. I’ve spent time with friends, made plans for the future and yes, probably lied a little about yesterday. There were some good times and some times with my head under water but never in the dark, cold, scary deep part; I could always see that light at the surface.

Two years ago today I slipped off that hidden ledge on the north side; I was at the cold, dark, very scary bottom of life’s swimming hole. Unlike Coon Creek, it takes a little longer than a few seconds to resurface, however I could breathe, at first I had to remind myself but after a little while breathing became natural again. I haven’t done this one alone; faith, family and friends have always been there for me. I think I am nearing the surface; it is no longer cold, dark and scary and I can see the light reflecting off the surface. Some days, (today was one of those) I still need to wipe the water out of my eyes (literally) and brush the hair out of my face (figuratively on that one). The years have changed the surface and I am trying to adjust to those changes.

I forgot to grab that handful of mud but trust me I touched the bottom.

To Conner; I think you would have loved the camaraderie and competition of Coon Creek but I don’t know if a three shower a day city kid could have handled the mud. I love you and miss you every day. Give MawMaw a hug and tell her I love her and miss her.

It has been a very long day; thanks so much for listening and for helping me up off the bottom.

Good Night and God Bless.

Dave

Note: I started this last week; it was one of those nights when the keyboard didn’t work. It avoided the recycle bin but references to today really mean a week ago last Tuesday. Now that I cleared that up I’ll see if the Keyboard works tonight.

In the fall of ’98 Sharyl and I accepted an invitation to attend “Grandparents’ Day” at Washington elementary school; today I accepted an invitation to attend a dinner concert presented by the Cleveland elementary “Honor Choir”. We enjoyed grand parents day with Cale and Conner and I enjoyed the concert and dinner with Luke. I still miss her every day; some days more than others, today was one of those.
Between those two events, we attended dozens of assorted elementary school functions with five wonderful grand kids. I think Sharyl thoroughly enjoyed every one she ever attended; I enjoyed most of them but endured might better describe a few. We started the run at Washington, then to McKinley for a few years, back to Washington and I closed it out at Cleveland. I think Sharyl’s last one was at Washington. During her illness neither of us attended a few of them, Braxton and Luke understood.
Norman elementary schools are named for presidents; the middle schools are named for authors, just a little FYI.
Grandparents’ day was probably my favorite of the events. The first one was at Washington with Cale and Conner; we went to their classroom in the afternoon. They did a little informal program, I really don’t remember details, I do remember feeling sorry for the kids whose grandparents or grandparent wasn’t there because they lived in Houston or maybe just in the next block. Sharyl and I always tried to give those kids some of our time. I think the guys came home with us and we probably stopped for ice cream on the way. We resumed that procedure a few years later with Braxton and Luke at Washington. I think we did four with Braxton and only one with Luke; I’m not sure why but Cleveland doesn’t do grandparents’ day; probably because of that grandparent that lives in Houston or around the corner.
Unlike Cleveland, McKinley lets it all hang out for grandparents’ day. You show up about 11:00 in the A.M. for some classroom time then it is off to the cafeteria to stand in line for your choice of a hamburger or hot dog and lunch under the shade trees.
After lunch it is back to the classroom for more festivities unless your grandkid is in Ms Perry’s class. Ms Perry’s class goes to the Cleveland County Fair. Her family is in charge of the petting zoo at the fair. She even encourages you to ride the big yellow bus to the fair. I got to go to the fair with Ms Perry at least three times; Sharyl never got to go and she didn’t seem to mind; in fact I can still see that little, I did it to you again, grin. At least I never had to ride the big yellow bus, but I did have to pet some goats and pigs. Honestly of all the teachers I met Ms Perry is my all time favorite; the kind we need more of and I think if I saw her after all these years she would remember me and mention the petting zoo and the big yellow bus.
It only took about two times of standing in line for a hot dog or burger for us to get a little smarter. We would go to Arby’s or Subway and bring lunch for the kids and us. Our last one at McKinley when Rylie was a fifth grader, after we finished lunch, I noticed Ry was looking out toward the playground. She handled it quite diplomatically; she said, “If you guys want to you can go.” She joined her friends and we completed our last grandparents’ day at McKinley.
I believe the music programs at the three schools were left to the discretion of the music teachers. They were all good and I was impressed with the teachers’ ability to get that many kids to pretty much be where they were supposed to be and doing what they were supposed to be doing.
The programs at Washington seemed to be very well organized and a little more structured. The teachers were obviously in charge and directing the show but you didn’t really notice them.
The teacher at McKinley, on the other hand, set the standard for being visible and involved in the show. She didn’t intend to divert attention from the kids, she just thoroughly enjoyed working with the kids and sometimes got caught up in the moment and almost became the show. I think I got in trouble every time we went to one of those; sometimes Sharyl just didn’t understand.
I only had the opportunity to do two or three at Cleveland with the most vocally talented of my grandkids; Luke can sing. They probably do the best job of the three of displaying the available talent. I didn’t meet the principal but he has to be a great guy, one of their programs was a tribute to Elvis. He closed the thing out with an Elvis impersonation. It wasn’t Elvis but he did some kind of a goofy entry to close the one last Tuesday; the kind of thing the kids love.
Another page in the life and times of Dave is turned. Maybe in 20 years or so, if I’m lucky Ms Perry will let me ride the big yellow bus to the fair for great grandparents’ day.
Thanks for reading what I write. The next two weeks are gonna be a little tough; I could use a prayer.
Good Night and God Bless.
Dave

If you heard/felt a rumble, that probably at least registered on the Richter scale, don’t be alarmed. It wasn’t an earthquake or an explosion; it was just the cabin walls imploding on a senile old man. Those imploding walls are one of the symptoms of extremely advanced stages of cabin fever.
Some other symptoms are:
Eating six meals a day and supplementing those with frequent snacks.
Curling up in the fetal position and sobbing or screaming.
Straightening the sock drawer again today.
Watching The Brady Bunch again just to pass some time until The Price is Right reruns come on.
Having long controversial conversations with oneself, and feeling good about winning the argument.
Doing laundry for the third consecutive day in a one-person household.
Posting meaningless stuff on Facebook, oh wait I don’t think we can blame that one on cabin fever.
Those are just a few symptoms in my cabin. If the fever comes to your cabin try not to let it bother you; it certainly doesn’t bother me bother me bother me . . .

I hope it is okay if I share some very random thoughts from a long cold day in the cabin.

I snapped the picture with my Ipad (don’t know how I made it without that thing) about 8:00 this morning; the view is out the front window of the cabin I call home.
I intended to spend part of a gray snowy day blogging. For some reason this old keyboard doesn’t seem to work before 10:00 in the evening and usually does a little better after the midnight hour.
Cabin fever has been rampant this winter and really became an issue this week. I tried a cabin change for a couple days; that provided some much needed temporary relief but I am back home and the fever seems to be coming back.
I think it is easy to get excited about a new diet when I am full of chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes and gravy. I think it is difficult to implement that plan when I am craving chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes and gravy. I’ll let you which Dave wins that battle.
I think it is crazy that I kicked a smoking habit about 30 years ago, however at various and unusual times I still want a cigarette. I had one of those cravings just as I indulged in a second cup of coffee this morning.
Almost six years after my final day at work I think I have acquired a retirees mindset. The first few months I thought retirement was all about hurrying to get all those major projects and little honey dos done. The road took an unexpected turn and became extremely bumpy for the next three plus years. The next year or so I was too busy trying to figure things out to remember I was retired. I think I have finally figured it out. I may want to explain it someday . . . or maybe not. Told you I had it figured out.
I know you remember this guy and yes I think any vehicle that gets in your heart should be a guy or gal.

He now has a name; the name isn’t gender specific but I would never treat a lady the way I treat this guy. I thought about Teddy because of the rough ride or I could have gone with something real original like Willy, bet there has never been a Jeep named Willy.
His name is Val; it could be short for an old girl friend named Valerie but I don’t think there is a Valerie from my past and this Val is a guy, remember. It could be short for Valentino but I wouldn’t and couldn’t do that to my tough little redneck Jeep. It is short for Valium because of the calming effect it has when we go down the road. The noisy fuel pump kind of interferes with that calm but spending some time together in the garage is part of the relationship.
I think I feel better. I hope you aren’t upset that you took the time to read this one,
Let’s all pray for an early spring.
Good Night and God Bless.
Dave

Funk, a simple four letter word with a variety of meanings. Merriam-Webster defines the word as: a strong offensive smell, a style of music, a depressed state of mind and several other things. For the purpose of this blog a funk is a depressed state of mind.

Funks come in varying degrees of severity ranging from severe depression to just not quite at the top of your game or “just feeling a little funky”. There isn’t a standard by which we gauge the severity of the things; it is relative; my level 3 might be your level 5 or her level 1. A funk can be the result of a major catastrophic life event or just a stack up of smaller things; the severity depends on how we react to those events.

I could have spared you the agony of those first two paragraphs by simply saying “I’ve been in a little funk lately” but I have this writing habit.

There have been no new major catastrophic events in my life. I really didn’t see it coming; the thing just kind of sneaked in. It certainly wasn’t close to the worst funk I’ve experienced; on a personal scale of 1 to 10 it couldn’t be any higher than a 2 or 3. I think it kind of started with the holidays and the two empty chairs and the cold gray days of winter. A young mother of four diagnosed with stage IV cancer; a young guy going through some emotional issues. Both of those things find a way into my heart and head. Add to that the anticipation of the second anniversary of a very unpleasant event; two years ago today cancer won at our house. Love you babe; miss you every day.

I enjoyed the holidays with my family; likewise I enjoyed spending time with friends. I even managed to provide a little emotional support to a couple friends, but I wasn’t at the top of my game, just felt a little funky. I think the anticipation leading up to today was the primary ingredient; I also think, often the anticipation is worse than the event. Today wasn’t the best day I ever had but I think it was better than yesterday.

I think there is light at the end of the tunnel and tomorrow this little funk will be a thing of the past. I know there will be more of them in my life but maybe with the right attitude and a little effort I can keep them low on the scale and short lived.

Life has really treated me pretty good lately; I have no complaints. I know I have been away from the keyboard for a couple weeks. I guess I will use the little funk as an excuse. Gotta blame something, after all I’m human.

Things are kind of quiet or private in my life right now. I plan to write forever but the interval may get a little erratic.

Please consider a donation to the cancer research organization of your choice.

Keep me in your prayers and thanks for reading what I write.

Good Night and God Bless.

Dave

I know we’re a few days in; I’ve been busy. Not really, I have just had a bad case of writer’s block.
I made it through the holidays better than I have in a few years; I kind of bottomed out a little last week but I think that is a typical post holiday reaction.
Last year I went in to great detail about reflecting on the year just ending and refocusing on things needing attention for the coming year. I set some goals for myself. This year as I reflect I think I may have exceeded my expectations. in accomplishing those goals. I think I will continue to pursue those same things.
The holidays weren’t kind to my weight control program; I think it will take about 10 weeks to undo what I did in about 10 days.
I managed to cross a couple items off the old bucket list in ’13. I hope to remove a couple more this year; yes, I am putting a plan together. I will share when the plan firms up a bit.
I did a major thing this week. It certainly wasn’t a bucket list item; just one of those things that comes with being “head of household”. I have a question for you homemakers and I want an honest answer. How often do you thoroughly clean the inside of your refrigerator? I’m not talking wipe up a spill; I’m talking empty the thing, start at the top and clean all the way to the bottom. My answer is “not very” and I bet I am in the majority.
I cleaned mine yesterday; it is amazing what fits in the corners or behind and under other things in there. I’m not big on keeping leftovers so it wasn’t fuzzy soup or potatoes, but there were things that were nowhere near their original color. Some of the dates were scary. The first date I saw on some Worcestershire (had to check the bottle to spell that) sauce was 1904; thank god, that is that is the date French’s started making the stuff. I found some plum preserves that redefined preserves. I know they had been there a long time because I’m allergic to that sort of thing and I don’t have enough overnight guests to keep the fridge stocked with breakfast items.
You’re crazy if you think I’m going to show you a “before” picture but I do have an “after” pic I will share.
The pic didn’t work tonight but I’m sure you know what a clean fridge looks like because you see one every day.
I didn’t get to the freezer side; maybe this week or maybe not. I did defrost and clean the little chest freezer. I also have a garage fridge for overflow and drinks. I think it has some real old stuff in it and it seems to be prone to spills, but I think I am psyched up and on a mission.
Last time I was here I told you more about an old Jeep than you ever wanted to know. I have also been known to share some very personal and deep thoughts with you. Everyone needs a sounding board mine has been you through this keyboard. I think I am becoming comfortable sorting those things out running down the road and leaving them in the Jeep. It may be a temporary thing and if it gets real serious I know you and this old keyboard are there.
Thanks for listening and I can still use a prayer.
Good Night and God Bless.
Dave

It’s OK for me to say that, but I better see a smile if you say it.

I have always had a love affair with the automobile. I have owned a bunch of them; I think if I really tried I could list them all but I don’t think I will try. A few of them have earned a special place in my heart.
There was my first, a clunker ’46 Ford. My all time favorite ’57 Olds convertible; and there was the ’61 Olds convertible. I still kind of have a soft spot for the ragtops. A ’70 Dodge pickup that loved to stay above 85 from OKC to wherever in Kansa that next Rodeo happened to be. A couple of Sharyl’s are in there. An ’86 Honda and her last one the ’03 Expedition; I didn’t get to drive them much but they were both kind of special. The convertibles and the pickup are deserving of their own blog but that probably won’t happen.
I have only spent about 2 months with this Jeep but the silly little thing is finding a spot. It will never replace the old ’57 but I can see it bedding down with those other guys.
How did this guy crack that door? It isn’t fast; I had never been one to hold up traffic, in this thing I can be a roadblock. To say it rides rough is an understatement; I am considering one of those kidney belt things. It is so noisy I use the mute feature on these fancy hearing aids anytime I get above 25 mph. It doesn’t have air conditioning; the heater works if you jiggle the switch just right. It does have a cloth top; maybe that’s it.
Honestly, I think I know it’s special attraction. Twenty-three months ago today I started the transition from “we to me”; I have shared much of that journey with you. The physical transition was sudden and the adjustments were pretty well defined. The emotional transition remains a work in progress.
The little green Jeep introduced me to a third part of the “we to me” move. For lack of a better term I’ll simply call it the mental phase. As I made personal decisions and those relating to the household, especially the major ones I always subconsciously considered Sharyl’s opinion. About a month after I bought the Jeep (I need to think of a name I’m tired of “the Jeep”) it occurred to me that I hadn’t even considered her thoughts, and I still haven’t. I also realized I had slowly learned to relax again; that wasn’t an option during Sharyl’s illness and I guess “uptight” became a habit; sometimes it takes a while to break a habit. The old Dave may be resurfacing; that may not be a good thing.
No, the Jeep (gotta think of a name) didn’t contribute to any of that. Running around in the rough riding little rascal, looking through plastic windows at dirty, shaky rearview mirrors did help me to realize it was happening.

Speaking of those rearview mirrors, the right one says “OBJECTS IN THIS MIRROR ARE CLOSER THAN THEY APPEAR”. All right hand mirrors have those words. I think consumer/safety advocate Ralph Nader led that charge probably in the sixties, about the time smoking dope in public and hugging trees became popular. Maybe it was the plastic window or the shaking, for some reason after all these years those words became thought provoking.
Objects are closer than they appear, just as the words say, in the jeep mirror. I think just the opposite is true when we look in the rearview mirrors of life. Objects (memories) in those mirrors are not as close as they appear. Another major difference the objects in that jeep mirror are only there for a matter of seconds or maybe minutes. Those in the mirrors of life, the good ones and the bad ones, are there forever even if they aren’t as close as they appear.
What does all this mean? I think it very simply means the transition continues. I also think it is more fun to run down the road with a relaxed and maybe a little bit crazy Dave.
To Sharyl: I still love you with all my heart and I miss you every day.
This one was extremely difficult to find the right words. I hope you understand what I tried to say.
I am sure I won’t do this again until after Christmas. From my house to yours: MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!
I may just name the jeep Teddy for Teddy Roosevelt; he was known as a roughrider.
Good Night and God Bless.
Dave

It is early December; two of my grandkids have joined millions of college students across the country.  They have retreated to their favorite quiet place and are preparing for finals.  It happens each December and there is a repeat performance in the spring.

I wish them all well but I am going to play favorites and really pull for those two that call me PawPaw.

Not because it is December, and I haven’t retreated to a quiet place to prepare, but I have been faced with some tests the past few days.  The ones I have seen have nothing to do with Zoology, Accounting or English Comp.  I’m sure they aren’t finals just those routine little pop quizzes used to measure progress.

One of them wasn’t a pop quiz; it was more of an endurance test.  I decided to listen to the experts and ride the winter storm out at home and only get out if it was absolutely necessary.  I was home alone for a little more than forty-eight hours.  I made a few phone calls, but I tried to not be a nuisance.  Late Saturday afternoon I checked my pantry and discovered that I was extremely low on Paprika, Brown Sugar, Coconut and Chipotles Peppers.  You just can’t run out of that stuff so I braved the elements and went to the grocery store.  I was impressed with the Jeep’s behavior on the ice, not so much with the heater.

Yesterday (Saturday) morning one of my Facebook friends who happens to be my baby girl posted the following status:

I miss my mom today…. Oh sure I miss her everyday, but today it is because I need new socks. I have probably never bought socks for myself. Mom was VERY particular about her socks. She would buy them, wear them once and give them to me or Lori. So today I need socks… Love you mom.

My baby girl’s big sis had offered this comment:

Very particular is kind of an under statement, miss her too. Xoxo

Lori’s comment is on the money.  Sharyl was picky to the ridiculous point about her socks and other clothing items.  The sock thing was a long-standing family joke and seriously I don’t think either of the girls ever bought socks they knew their mom would buy some that didn’t feel just exactly right.

I laughed, I shed a few tears then I laughed some more.  I still love the girls’ mom and miss her but I think I passed the little test.  There is progress.

WordPress.com is the site that hosts this blog.  This morning they sent me a Happy 5^th Anniversary greeting.  Five years ago today, Lori set up a little thing called “mom LIFE cancer”.  I sometimes include that original entry with a post in early December; I don’t want to do that tonight.

It isn’t as if I hadn’t already thought about it but that little “happy anniversary” note kind of turned on the light and stood me in front of a mirror and forced a look back at that five-year run.  Unlike the previous tests; surprisingly there were no tears; just a few moments of quiet reflection.  I think that qualifies as progress.  I will give myself a passing grade.

The following paragraph is from my post in the ourmom blog on Valentines Day ’12:

I decided to forget the things that were bothering me at least for a couple hours and go to the OU men’s basketball game.  It is the first men’s game I have been to in a long time.  They always have a halftime show, ranging from two fifth grade teams scrimmaging to some nationally known halftime shows.  Sharyl’s all-time favorite was “The Quick Change Lady”.  What do you think they had tonight?   You guessed it “The Quick Change Lady”.  I can’t get a break.

I went to the OU women’s basketball game this afternoon.  I got to take another little test.  I’ll give you three guesses what they had for halftime entertainment.  That’s right “The Quick Change Lady”.  Did I think about Sharyl?  You know I did, but I stayed in my seat and enjoyed the performance today.  That is significant progress.  I think I passed.

Conner went with me to that Valentines Day game.  We had a good time except for my issues with the halftime show.  I love you Con and I miss you.  Maybe one day I’ll be ready for some progress testing.  Today is not that day

I probably didn’t “ace” any of those tests but the passing grade will do for now.

Some of you have made the entire five-year run with us.  Thanks to all of you for all you do.  Keep me in your prayers.

Good Night and God Bless.

Dave

I’m not sure where this one is going, but I need to write or go to bed and it isn’t close to my bedtime.

I have always been pretty comfortable with a socket and ratchet or screwdriver in my hand, with or without a Chilton or Haynes manual for guidance.  If the situation allowed, power tools made it a little more enjoyable.  I know about motor oil, antifreeze, gear ratios, valve clearances and spark plug gaps.  I grew up with that stuff.

About five years ago I suddenly accepted the role of “chief cook and bottle washer” at the Patten house.  I am still not comfortable with measuring cups and spoons or knives and spatulas even with a Betty Crocker cookbook for guidance.  I don’t know about dice, chop, fold, blend, sauté or simmer but I’m learning.

If you look at the inside of my house and the inside of my garage you wouldn’t believe the first two paragraphs.  The inside of the house is far from spotless but it is usually presentable, the garage is almost always a cluttered mess.

The weather forecast and the new toy (Jeep) provided the incentive; I supplied the labor and I am happy to say I now have two out of three safely tucked away out of the elements.

 

I am not confident it will stay this way but maybe I’ve changed.

I am learning to cook kind of like I learned to mechanic, trial and error.  I use some recipes but I don’t always understand them and I am allergic to some of the ingredients so I freelance a lot.  Sometimes that works sometimes not so good but living alone no one needs to know about the failures.

Last winter I found a recipe on Face book, imagine that, for an easy to make soup.  I liked it so I named it Face book soup and tucked the recipe away in my favorite recipe folder on the trusty computer.

The allergy thing I have is called Angioedema; it is a swelling normally of the tongue, lips or face. My first experience was about fifteen years ago; it was scary and probably even life threatening until through trial error and the Internet I figured out the triggers.

I am allergic to aspirin and some other medicines, foods high in salicylates, some food colors and a few other things.  I have kind of learned which ones to totally avoid and which ones to use in moderation, however the list continues to grow.  Through early recognition and a handful of Benadryl I now consider it a nuisance instead of the problem it once was.

Face book soup sounded good for a cold winter evening so I made some yesterday and enjoyed a couple bowls for dinner.  Sometime between midnight and daylight I kind of woke up and noticed one of the early indicators.  I opted to turn over and go back to sleep instead of getting up and taking the aforementioned Benadryl.  I never look good first thing in the morning or later in the day for that matter but I normally look better than this:

 

By about nine I could drink some coffee and about ten I had room for the toothbrush and by noon it was almost back to normal.

I think I will change the name of that stuff to Face swell soup and take it out of the favorite recipe folder.

One kitchen thing, the coffee pot, has always been my responsibility.  Sharyl didn’t drink coffee; therefore she couldn’t or at least led me to believe she couldn’t make good coffee.  I now use one of those Keurig deals.  It makes great coffee but it had gotten so slow I didn’t get that first cup until almost noon; that’s an exaggeration, but it was real slow.

It was time for the dreaded vinegar bath.  I always thought vinegar was vinegar but there on the shelf beside the ordinary vinegar was this super stuff.  Cleaning Vinegar, for floors, sinks, toilets and coffee pots.

 

It performed as advertised; I think the thing brews faster than it did the day I got it.  There is a down side.  The instructions were to run two cycles of water to eliminate the vinegar taste and smell.  Five cycles of water and four cups of coffee later I can still taste the vinegar and I can smell it twenty feet away.

Can I be serious before I say good night?  I know; it’s my blog.

For a few weeks a couple questions have been on my mind:

Is it Okay if I feel Okay?

Is it Okay if I feel a little guilty because I feel Okay?

I think the correct answer to both questions is yes.

I am OK tonight so let’s pray for some sunshine and warm temperatures.

Good Night and God Bless.

Dave

That title leaves it wide open.  I’ll try to keep it on those three things and in order.

If you don’t have your turkey plucked (or thawed) you probably should get that started.  My turkey is thawing and I have knocked the dust off the fryer and inventoried my list of supplies. Dava and Rick volunteered to host our group for Thanksgiving.  We accepted the invitation.  My only responsibility is to get the turkey fried and make it across town in time for dinner.  I think I can do that.

I am thankful the nine of us will be together for the holiday.  Those two empty chairs will probably always be visible but I think it gets a little easier with time.

I hope the holiday is kind to you and yours.  If you travel, please be safe.

The last time I was here I thought I had managed to tuck the memories of November ’08 away.  I guess I’m not as tough as I thought. I haven’t had a good week, I see no reason to share details (you’ve heard it all before) but I guess the anniversary of the third week of November ’08 will always be a little difficult for me.

I think one of the most asked questions in America is:  Do you remember where you were when you heard President Kennedy had been assassinated? I think anyone born before 1955 can probably answer the question.

I was in Army basic training at Fort Polk, Louisiana, sitting in a classroom learning about The Uniform code of Military Justice or something. A sergeant interrupted our instructor and broke the news.  We initially thought it part of the harassment or training.  The next few days were extremely hectic, we didn’t have access to newspapers and very limited TV, and that whole military thing was new to us and kind of scary.

I have my thoughts on what really happened (doesn’t everyone).  I also feel very strongly that Viet Nam would have been a different kind of conflict if it even reached the conflict level, had Lee Harvey Oswald not made it to Dallas that day.  President Kennedy was comfortable enough with the world situation, in August ’63, he quit drafting married men; that is why I was at Fort Polk about two years ahead of schedule.  I know we had a few advisory troops in Nam in ’63 but if escalation would have been anticipated the draft would not have been altered.  That is strictly my opinion based on “Patten Logic”.

I think that is enough, maybe too much, on holidays and memories. Moving on to winter projects.

Winter days and nights have always been my least favorite time; last year was the first winter I have lived alone.  I wasn’t prepared for the loneliness I experienced.  I did some genealogy research, wrote a lot of blog posts and spent way too much time bouncing around the Internet.

I would like to introduce you to this winter’s project.

 

It doesn’t have a name yet; oh I’ve already called it a few things but I don’t think those are suitable to share.

I have always had a little bit of a car habit and had been pondering getting maybe a fifties or sixties something to play with.  I have also always found the jeep to be a little intriguing.  I drove my company commander around in one for a little while about fifty years ago. I decided I needed, wanted is probably a better choice of words, a Jeep.

I shopped on craigslist among other places. I found a couple the ad said needed a little TLC; the ad should have said, major project or maybe you can save it.  This one was advertised as ready to go; it should have said, needs a lot of TLC.  I am looking forward to spending some time with it this winter and see how much of that TLC stuff I can take care of.  The thing is really fun to drive; I just hope I can stay out of it long enough to take care of a few problems.

It is a ’93 and has some of the things you would expect with any 20-year-old vehicle and that it is a jeep adds a whole nother list of things it needs.  It really is in pretty good shape, just a lot of little things, like brakes, windshield wipers heater and the list goes on.

Last week when I was crying about being sick I mentioned doing one kind of stupid thing.  The Jeep was involved in that incident.  I bought it about 50 miles from home.  It had the Bikini top on and the full top was missing a few parts.  I drove it home on a cool rainy day with the Bikini top, a little like driving a convertible with the top down.

One unexpected benefit; I have always driven too fast.  Believe me that won’t be a problem in this thing.

I don’t really expect it to be good to me but I think it will be good for me.  I think it will spend the spring, summer and fall at the lake and by next winter it will need a bunch more TLC.

I hope your Thanksgiving is good.  I could use a little prayer to help me through mine.

Please consider a donation to your comfort level to the cancer research organization of your choice.

Good Night and God Bless.

Dave