When I named this thing “Random Thoughts”, I really didn’t have anything this random in mind.  Some of you may even suggest I find something more productive to do on these nights when sleep doesn’t happen.

Recently I did a complete post on this little weight loss kick I am on.  I am not going rehash that tonight; at least I don’t think I am.  Last week the scale stopped at TWO ONE TWO.  I hadn’t seen that in years and I hadn’t thought of getting through the teens as a milestone.  It suddenly became one and caused me to reflect and I guess even compare it to my journey through my teenage years.

I became a teen on June 17, ’55.  I think it was just another hot and dusty summer day down on the farm.  I even did a quick Google look at that day hoping to find some important world event.  The fact I celebrated my 13^th birthday was about as important as anything I found.  I did a similar look at June 17, ’62.  Same thing, it might as well have said, “Dave is no longer a teenager.”

I entered the teen era as a shy, chubby, pot bellied kid, probably riding my bike as fast as it would go down that dusty road   I have had the pot belly all my life, I don’t know why I think I can lose it now.

Almost without fail, today when a kid has that 13^th someone says to his mom, “Oh no a teenager or another teenager in the house”.  I don’t think anyone said that to my mom; I don’t think teenager was a four-letter word then.  Maybe my generation caused that.  We progressed through adolescence watching movies called “Rebel Without a Cause” and listening to guys like Elvis, Little Richard, Fats Domino and Chuck Berry sing this new stuff called Rock and Roll.  The country was between wars; except for that long running cold one we had with the Soviet Union.  Maybe the good life did kind of spoil us and give future teens a bad rap.

My exit from those teen years was kind of like the entrance, just another hot summer day. I’m sure the Kool Aid had a little more kick and instead of the bicycle I was probably going way too fast down some strip of asphalt in an old white convertible.

I was still a little shy (I guess I still am) and still had the potbelly. Neither the entrance into the teen years nor the exit was particularly memorable; the change was subtle and gradual.  The sum of that change was significant; the guy that came out the other end of that tunnel didn’t resemble the one that went in.

Those years were filled with experiences I could share, most of it routine and boring, some of it typical and predictable, some of it you wouldn’t believe any way.  You guessed right I’m not gonna go there; at least not tonight. .

There is a major difference between the teen years and this weight loss deal.  You just do the years one time, no do-overs.

I may need to do it again with a few of those pounds.  I have had a good run socially the past week, but those social functions have placed me in close contact with some ribs, brisket, enchiladas, pulled pork and the list goes on.  I could say I tried to be good but I really didn’t, I just enjoyed eating for a few days.  I spent a couple days at the lake; I don’t have scales at the lake and I don’t want scales at the lake.  I didn’t just eat while I was there; I did some major boat maintenance in the heat.  I came home yesterday, the scale reading this morning brought a smile but I think dehydration from the time in the heat got most of the credit.  If the scale could talk, tomorrow it might say, “One at a time please”.  Oh well, I lost it once; I can do it again if I want to.

I needed to write tonight and I dug awfully deep to compare losing seven little pounds with seven of the most formative years of my life.  If you are still reading, please accept a sincere thank you.

Good Night and God Bless.

Dave

When I talked about Murphy a few days ago one of the things I bored you with was the old bass boat.  I brought her home Thursday, the poor old thing didn’t even know we had moved to Norman she wanted to make a left turn in Tecumseh.

When we got home I parked her in front of the garage, it is a little cooler outside than in right now and I have to hook a water hose to it to test it and that water makes a heck of a mess in the garage, besides I have way too much “stuff’ in the way to get her in there anyway.  If I’m not through by winter I may take a day off and rearrange the garage.

I parked as close as I could to my workbench, toolbox, air compressor and a wasp nest.  I didn’t know about the wasp nest until the next day.

I have never been allergic to wasp stings, I have considered them more of a nuisance than a problem, Sharyl was very allergic to them and one of my brothers is.  One of them got me twice Friday, on my left wrist and a finger on my right hand.  The finger swelled a little but I had to look close to see where the sting was on the wrist.  I got my wasp spray and reduced the population by a handful, and continued to twist some wrenches.  The nest is in an inaccessible cavity under the eve of the house.

The shade is better later in the day so after loafing most of the day Saturday, about 7:30 I was playing with the baby some more.  This time the stupid wasp stung my left ear lobe; it hurt and really made me mad. I got my can of stuff and made war on the wasps until I felt like we were even. When I settled down it occurred to me my ear was hurting bad.

I came in and took 75mg Benadryl and put some Benadryl gel on the sting.  The thing continued to hurt and actually started to swell pretty bad and pretty fast.  I applied an ice pack.  I have a lot of those in the freezer.  We used them by the numbers when Sharyl was real sick and although I have never been allergic to wasp I am allergic to some meds and foods that can result in significant swelling usually of the face or mouth/tongue. I use Benadryl and ice when that happens. I may have blogged about that previously, if not I will one day because it is kind of an interesting story.

The thing was hurting bad enough and swelling fast enough that I got a little concerned, I thought it would stop but I didn’t know it would, that is one of many disadvantages to living alone.  I would have waited a while before I made the decision to seek medical attention if someone, especially someone named Sharyl would have been here. Lori was home and knew what I was doing, I’m proud one of us knew.

I arrived at the minor emergency clinic about 8:20, about 20 minutes after they closed.  My next stop was the ER at Norman Regional.  I knew where that was, the last time I was there was in September 2011,a couple days before we made the Hospice decision.  I was out of town and wasn’t there for Conner on March 2^nd 2012.  It brought back a lot of memories, none of them pleasant.

The place was extremely calm for an ER on Saturday night.  It only took about 15 minutes to process and get to a room.  I think the swelling had started to stabilize, maybe I just felt better because I had some help.  They complimented me for taking the Benadryl; one of them said, “I sure hope you didn’t drive after taking that much Benadryl”.  I didn’t want to upset her so I just didn’t respond.

Hospitals have gone high tech (kinda like the rest of the world) with their record keeping and admission procedure.  I was in bed with an IV in one arm and some other apparatus on the other when the young lady rolled the computer in to get all the necessary information.  I was a patient there a little over 5 years ago with a minor heart issue; they still had me in the computer.  She was verifying the data, not much had changed, I was mostly just giving “yes” answers.  Then out of the clear blue she asked the routine question “Are you still married to Sharyl?”  It was certainly a legitimate question and I’m sure one she was expecting my “yes” answer.  I think it may have been the first time I have been asked that.  I was actually impressed with the way I handled it, at least I thought I did good.

They ran some Prednisone and Pepcid AC in on top of my Benadryl.  Spellchecker doesn’t know about prednisone or pepcid.  The swelling gradually started down; they kept me an extra hour or so to make sure the Pepcid didn’t aggravate my other allergy.

I got out of the place just as they were shooting fireworks at the end of the benefit concert; I beat most of the 65,000 folks out of town.

She gave me a couple scrips for more Pepcid and Prednisone and gave me the green light to take a bunch of Benadryl.  The ear is a little touchy today, other than that I am back to normal.  I know: normal and Dave in the same sentence just doesn’t sound right.

I relived a lot of things during that 2 hours or so I was there.  Most of the time I was in that little room alone.  I probably needed to do that, just another part of the process.

I probably didn’t need to go to the ER, but it broke the monotony of another routine Saturday night at home.

Keep me in your prayers.

Good Night and God Bless.

Dave

This little jewel entered my life as a Christmas gift.

Mine included the cup; I don’t think that is standard equipment. I added the little rack deal. I love the thing; drinking coffee has returned as a fun and important part of my daily routine.

I bought this one for the lake; it didn’t come with a cup.

The one pictured is an old workplace cup; if you look close you can see the airplane. I used to help keep those things flying so we could be free to say what we wanted in blogs like this or wherever.  This one didn’t drop bombs or shoot things; it just hauled gas to the guys that did the serious stuff.  OK in about an hour it will be Independence Day, I am at the lake and someone was shooting fireworks a little early so I’m feeling a little patriotic; I’ll take off my red, white and blue suspenders and talk about coffee some more.

I didn’t drink coffee when I was a kid, my dad was the only coffee drinker in our home and I don’t think his was safe for children.  Honestly I’m not sure I could handle it today.

I eased into this coffee drinking thing after I started working for a living.  I started slow, drinking the stuff heavily laden with cream and sugar, I soon decided the there was no value added with the cream, and the sugar didn’t hang around much longer, so for the last 50 or so years it has been just “hot and black”.

For many years I worked for the U. S. Air Force. We always had coffee, but it didn’t come out of a nice break room, it usually came out of one of these or something similar

.

We found a corner of the office somewhere close to an electrical outlet to set the thing.  We all chipped in to buy the pot and supplies.  Making coffee and cleaning the pot were on the honor system; some were much more honorable than others. Rinsing probably better describes what we did than cleaning the pot.  We didn’t have a kitchen, we had a dirty janitor closet or the bathroom, and neither place was suitable to clean a coffee pot or a coffee cup for that matter.  I think everyone assumed the next guy would actually clean the thing.

Some only drank one or two cups a day, others (my group) cups were never empty and never cold and for some of us nothing goes better with coffee than a cigarette.  As I reflect on those days I sympathize with the non-smokers.  By late afternoon what was left in that 55-cup pot was some kind of rank; I’m not sure my dad could have handled it.

The pot wasn’t the only thing that had a little “personality” you should have seen our cups. I like the term “character” as I think about those things.  I certainly wasn’t the exception and mine never saw soap and most of the time the water in that janitor closet was lukewarm at best. If I left less than a ¼ cup in it and there was no mold I didn’t even rinse the thing; just fill it up and hope it was hot enough to drink.

Those cups had character; you knew at a glance if it was Dave or Richard or Gene’s cup.  If I saw it I wouldn’t take it to the owner; no way would I touch that nasty thing and they felt the same about mine.  I might stop by his desk to tell him where it was; his co-worker might say he is out for a couple weeks.  The cup would still be in the bathroom when he returned.  Some awfully good science projects got flushed down the toilet; it is amazing how much mold can grow in one of those things in two weeks.  You just kind of wiped the big chunks out with a paper towel and hoped the hot coffee sterilized it.  Mine had a permanent ring about a third of the way down from that three week run to the South Pacific in ’84.

Sharyl didn’t drink coffee therefore she didn’t understand that cups have character she thought they should be treated like the rest of the dishes and washed after each use.  We had this ten-cup deal, but like the cup Sharyl thought it should be clean.

I thought it was more trouble than it was worth.  I would make a pot occasionally but after I retired most of my coffee came from 7-11 in a Styrofoam cup; talk about character.

I live alone now and neither of the cups pictured above have had anything more aggressive than a cold water rinse; they are beginning to build some character.  Thanks, Rylie, for picking the dark color; your mom and aunt can’t see the character that is beginning to form unless they look real close.  The black one here at the lake was selected for a reason, it is coming along slowly but there is progress.

I now have coffee pots that don’t need to be washed and a couple cups with some character.  Drinking coffee is fun again.

Would I trade the cup with character for the days when Sharyl put it in the dishwasher with the other dishes?  In a heartbeat, but that isn’t an option.

I hope you have a great Independence Day, say a prayer for me.

Good Night and God Bless.

Dave

I’m sure you all know about Murphy’s Law “Whatever can go wrong, will go wrong”.  I think that guy has been with me for the past week or so.  He may still be here.

This pic is the last thing he touched.

You need to pay close attention because this one will probably be hard to follow, and if you think it is, just be thankful you are reading along and not riding along.

Speaking of riding along, I will start by giving props to our youngest grandson. Luke knows how to go down the road the way I like to go down the road, you know “get in, shut up, buckle up and hang on.”

He needed or at least wanted to spend some time with a good friend, problem, Graham lives in Houston.  Not only am I a sucker for whatever my grand kids want, you know from reading what I write, I kind of like to run down the road.

We left his house at 8:30 Wednesday morning, grabbed some breakfast at a Mickey D’s drive through in Purcell (no it wasn’t on my diet).  We made a quick pit stop in Ennis, TX so I could make text contact with Graham’s mom.  We made another quick stop a couple hours later, Luke was napping a little and I was about to join him.  I needed a Red Bull and some peanuts; I was afraid Luke would tell his mom so I settled for a Pepsi.

At the north side of the Houston metro (The Woodlands) I put Luke and his bag in a car with some people I had never seen. He went toward Houston and I went the other way.

This Murphy guy was with me but he had the decency to respect a 10-year-old kid.

I had dinner plans with two friends in Dallas.  I promised my girls I would spend the night in the DFW area and either go to the lake or come home after a good nights rest. They don’t always approve of the way I go down the road.

Before I got back to Dallas we decided it was to everyone’s advantage if we canceled dinner plans.

It also dawned on me that the only key for my pontoon boat was in my pickup console; I was in the SUV. I now have three keys in three different locations. I decided to go to the lake anyway.  I have another boat that needed some of my attention so fourteen hours and 836 miles after Luke and I left Norman I was at the lake place.

The other boat needed more attention than I had anticipated.  Murphy and I are at the lake, one boat won’t run and I don’t have a key for the other. I decided to come home; I think it took me longer to drive there than I stayed.  I’ll be honest, it wasn’t just the boats, the lake is still a little bit tricky, most of the time I spend there is good, but sometimes it is still a little difficult, this was one of those times.

I decided it was time to bring the old bass boat home for some long overdue TLC.  I could do it there but I have more time, better tools and it is only a couple miles for gasket sealer or a bolt; there it is about 20 miles for those things.  The old boat is 31 years old, Sharyl and I bought it 20 years ago, and the last time it was home was in 1999.  I know the tires are 20 years old and believe they are the originals.  I wasn’t going to let Murphy have a shot at that.

I drove back to the lake Monday to get the wheels, (I prefer to buy my tires here) and to check/grease the bearings.  The wheel bearings were both bad, I kind of beat Murphy to another one.

I now had three keys for the pontoon and nothing else pressing, so why not watch a sunset on the water.  Those are more fun if you share with someone but that isn’t always an option.  I keep the pontoon in a slip at a marina.  Murphy was there before me; a windstorm had trashed the Bimini top.  I was able to correct most of the damage but I was no longer interested in a leisurely cruise.

The next morning I checked my email, one of them undone what I thought was probably a done deal on the sale of an RV.

After I finished my coffee I noticed the windstorm not only had trashed the boat, it had also wiped out a pretty good section of skirting on the lake house, yes, the lake house has wheels.  I didn’t have the tools or supplies to fix it while I was there.

Finally we get to the picture you saw up top. Just before I left for the lake I noticed a small spot on my carpet in the hall, when I returned it seemed as the spot had grown a little, I got some stuff and proceeded to clean it.  Surprise, it wasn’t a stain; it was wet.  Most furnace / AC units are in the garage or attic; mine is in the hall.  The condensation drain line was leaking.  The first fix was the picture up top.  I was either going to have to stay home or find a lot bigger bucket.  The next pic is the final fix.

I hope Murphy doesn’t come to your house but I sure hope he goes somewhere.  I need a break.

To put it in perspective, considering where I have been the last few years it feels pretty good to get all worked up over insignificant crap like this.

I’m going to change gears and share an old Sharyl and Dave story before I hit the publish button.

You know I like to run up and down the road, I always have and I probably always will. I have also mentioned in previous posts how we discussed issues and reached an agreement.  We did that most of the time, there were exceptions, and occasionally one of us would just say “no” end of discussion.

Very early in our marriage, I had an offer to become a “long haul” truck driver.  The pay would be significantly better than I was making and to me it just seemed like the thing I should do.  I came home and shared the exciting news with Sharyl.  This was one of those times when there was no discussion.  She said more than no, I could quote but I prefer to keep that one sided conversation private.  That undoubtedly is the best decision “we” ever made.  Love you babe!

Thanks for reading what I write  even the goofy stuff like this one.  Please keep me in your prayers.

Good Night and God Bless.

Dave

In previous blog posts I have mentioned the need and desire to lose some weight. I thank those of you who have seen me for withholding you comments.  I have halfheartedly dieted for the past year or so; actually I guess I have done that since about 1972.

I think it is quite common and acceptable to gain 7 pounds in the winter and lose 5 in the summer.  That only becomes a problem if it happens for maybe twenty consecutive years; I’ll do the math for you, that is a net gain of forty pounds.  I exceeded that a little, in a recent three-year period, my net gain was about eight per year.

About four or five months ago I admitted the halfhearted stuff wasn’t working.  I wasn’t gaining but I wasn’t losing; it was time to get serious. Did I ever mention I am a little bit hardheaded?

From my days in the business world I thought I should establish some goals and consider some milestones.  I did a little Google research and found that goofy chart; obviously created by some anorexic experts.  That thing said I needed to lose about sixty pounds or suddenly become about 6’9”.  I have no desire to do either of those things.

I set my own goals. I broke them into two categories long term and short term.  The short-term goal is simple.  Weigh less today than I did yesterday; it doesn’t always happen but, it does keep the pressure on.

I know the experts say I should weigh weekly.  That doesn’t work for me; there are too many false positives and false negatives. I have weighed every morning for many years.  I don’t know how much my shirt or socks or shoes weigh, I just know how much I weigh. That may be too much information.

I broke the long-term goals into three sub categories: “Realistic”, “Optimistic” and “It is OK to Dream”. The OK to Dream goal is 20 pounds more than what that silly chart says a 6’1” guy of medium build should weigh.

I didn’t set firm milestones; I think failure to meet the early ones has caused me to abandon diets in the past.

I’ll do a little more math: Realistic, lose 20, Optimistic, lose 30, and dream about losing 40.  I didn’t want to do this but the starting point was about 235 on a good day, and I still don’t know how much the shoes and stuff weigh.

Boy, I have talked the talk; I guess it is time to walk the walk.

There are many ways to lose weight and different things work for different people.  I decided to go old school this time.  I would change my eating habits and get more exercise.

I established three basic food groups; those groups are:

The things I really like.  Foods in this group are not to be eaten; not even in moderation.

The things I can tolerate.  It is OK to eat this stuff in extreme moderation.

The stuff I can’t stand.  There are no restrictions.

Yes, I exaggerated a little; but not much.

Burgers and fries or a good chicken fried steak have always been my “go to” meal.  I have had 5 burgers since I started this deal and two of those were on the turnpike; nothing else was available.  I think I only had fries with three of them.  If your Sonic stock is floundering, I could be the responsible.

I understand Blue Bell Ice Cream has formed a committee to find a reason for the decreased demand for their Homemade Vanilla product.  I think I have the answer.  I picked up the ice cream habit when Sharyl was sick; it was a tough one to break.

I have replaced the burgers with chicken and fish; grilled, not battered and fried the way I like it.  I think chicken may soon be a candidate for the endangered species list. Steamed squash, cabbage, cauliflower, etc. has replaced that in a cheese sauce or the battered and fried variety.

I am getting tempted to stop by Sonic for a burger on my way to Homeland for a half-gallon of that Homemade Vanilla ice cream.

Some of you probably remember the two pics I put on Facebook; one with some ice cream, the other with a big chicken fried steak and cream gravy.  I have an explanation for both.  The ice cream was part of a graduation party for my favorite grand daughter; I only had a couple bites.  The chicken fried steak; it just seemed like the thing to do at the time.  I ate the whole thing.

I am getting more exercise.  Some of it is because of changes to my daily routine, I am doing more yard work and I get out and about a little more.

About the time I started this thing an old friend and I were visiting; he is an old friend not only because he is old (not as old as me, but old) also because we have been friends for a very long time.  Old people conversations typically include diet and exercise.

He has access to a small workout facility, so we decided to give it a try.  We haven’t inflicted a lot of wear and tear on the equipment but it has become a part of our routine.  We enjoy the conversation; we both have a long way to go but there is improvement.

The first day we were there I had been on the treadmill for an extended period, probably 7 or 8 minutes.  This thing is a much better piece of equipment than the one Sharyl and I had in our home; she used the heck out of it.  This one has all the bells and whistles; it has a button to activate the “cool down” cycle; I pushed that button and the darn thing almost threw me off the back with the sudden increase in speed.

I admit have become somewhat obsessed with this weight loss thing and I understand how that obsession can be a problem for some people.  I don’t think I need to worry because my obsession for burgers and fries or chicken fried steak and cream gravy far exceeds my obsession to lose weight.

Today I met my Realistic goal.  I tipped the scale at two one five 215 pounds; I have lost 20 pounds and I am excited.  I think I am going to relax a little and figure out how to maintain the 215.  However the Optimistic goal can now be relabeled as Realistic.  The other one; it is still OK to dream.

I may not weigh tomorrow.  I enjoyed a Father’s Day dinner with my family today. My two favorite fathers were there.  I’m talking about the guys my grand kids call dad; both of them are great guys and great dads.  You girls done good!

I’m sorry this one got a little long.  Please keep me in your prayers.

Thanks for running down the road with me.

Good Night and God Bless.

Dave

I haven’t gone completely random in a while, that is about to change.

I don’t know if they are popular with today’s youth, but nicknames were very common with my generation.  The majority of them had a short run and were limited to the immediate social circle, however some of them kind of stuck and replaced what mom and dad put on the birth certificate and became who you were, for the rest of your life.

Maybe I was a social misfit but if I had a nickname it never lasted more than a few days.  Both my brothers have them; one acquired his before he had teeth, the other before he shaved.  I refer to one by the nickname; the other, I remain in the minority, I call him what mom named him.

I am talking about names like: Deuce, Smurd, Moose, Cod, (don’t ask) Minnie, Chuggy, Bud, Red (I’ve known a lot of them), Toad, Hot Shot, Oggie (rhymes with boogie), Goober and the list goes on.

Some of them were friends for years before I knew their real name.   I knew some of them before they got the nickname and knew the basis for the new moniker.  There is usually little or no planning, it just kind of happens.

Minnie was the result of a single comment in reference to some sunglasses at a kids baseball game about 50 years ago.

I am only going to use one last name, because I think Deuce Roselius has a special ring, and I know he won’t care.  One day three of us smart 12 or so year olds decided it would be cool to refer to each other as Ace, Deuce and Trey.  I was Trey or maybe I was Ace for probably no more than the rest of the day, I don’t even remember who the other kid was but he didn’t continue to be called Ace.  Deuce stuck, he now lives on the west coast but I’ll bet he still answers to Deuce. I saw him about 12 or 15 years ago and about three years ago we had a long phone conversation .  Deuce is still my friend.  His dad also had a nickname; he was Booger Roselius, I didn’t ask how he got his.

Some of those names I dropped were relatives, some were friends from school and some were the guys that helped me through the late teens and early twenties.  I guess we helped each other through those fun but difficult years.

As I get older I have a few regrets. One of them is that I allowed life to interfere with the close association with Deuce and Chuggy and Oggie and Moose and many others that simply used the name their mom gave them.

I saw Oggie in the grocery store parking lot a few years ago. We had a long conversation.  We talked about the old hot rodding days and some of the other things that were a part of that lifestyle and we talked about our families.  I think he had ice cream or milk or we might have talked the rest of the day, we agreed to visit again soon.

Tomorrow I will attend Oggie’s funeral and say a final good-bye.

A very few weeks ago I said a final good-bye to the one we called Hot Shot.

Rest in peace Oggie and Hot Shot.

Tonight I ask for prayers for their families.

Good Night and God Bless.

Dave

Use to be a guy come to the lake with Sharyl or maybe just by himself.  He was pretty laid back; even when things didn’t go well and stuff broke as it sometimes does he just took it in stride and enjoyed his time here.

The guy that has been here the past couple years isn’t like that.  He gets all bent out of shape when things break or don’t go well; for that matter he hasn’t really had a lot of fun even on a sun shiny 85 degree day when nothing broke.  He would use any excuse to go home.

Out of the clear blue and certainly unexpected that first guy showed up this weekend.

He left home Saturday morning after a night of rough weather.  He left a yard full of tree limbs; he just figured they would still be there when he got home.  I bet the FOHA (Flaming Oaks Homeowners Association) wishes he would come clean that mess up.  He left all that up in Hughes County and doesn’t care what the FOHA thinks, at least until he gets back up to Hughes County.

He had two things on the agenda.  A deck that had been neglected for about 3 or 4 years, and some grass that is growing out of control.

He built the deck in ‘08; he used treated lumber instead of the maintenance free composite stuff Sharyl tried to get him to use.  His plan was to seal it yearly, life kind of got in the way and that didn’t happen since ’09.

He brought everything to do the job, yeah right, that never happens.  He read the coverage info on the cleaner and quickly did the math in his head in the aisle at Lowe’s and even bought a little extra (insert another of those yeah rights).

If you need some more stuff at home it is about 4 miles to Lowe’s, if you need some more stuff here you can go north 40 miles or you can go south 40 miles.  He didn’t bother to read the safety info; it is about fifteen miles to a store that sells those protective gloves like the ones sitting on the workbench at home.

He didn’t even get upset just made the 80-mile round trip for gloves and more cleaner.  He just kind of chuckled when he ran out of cleaner again before he ran out of deck.  There is a bright side, the deck is looking better than he thought it ever would again and he has an excuse to come back soon and I’ll just bet he brings enough cleaner next trip.

The grass and weeds were out of control but following a six-inch rain you gotta be real selective where you go with a lawn mower. By Sunday afternoon some of it was dry enough to mow.  He mowed for probably fifteen minutes before that belt broke, no not the one that turns the blades, if that one breaks you can still drive the thing back to the barn or at least to a dry level place.  Did you ever see anyone pull an unmanned lawn mower out of a ditch and across the road with a golf cart?

The guy that has been here the past couple years would have jumped in the truck stopped along the way for a Red Bull and some peanuts and came home.  This guy just figured he could go 40 north or 40 south to a Hustler dealer and be back in business in three or four hours.  He spent a little time online (imagine that) and found a place about fifteen miles east that might have the belt.

The place took you back a few years and yes I know this is Southeastern Oklahoma.  He just reached up among the dozens of belts hanging on nails and said I think this is the one you need; he was going to verify but he couldn’t find his book.  The price was right just even dollars, no receipt or extra for tax.  The guy paid him cash; I don’t think a debit card would have worked.

The belt went on reasonably easy and the guy had the thing running and everything that was dry enough mowed by noon.  The place still looks bad but there is no homeowners association and now he has another reason to come back soon.

In addition to all that, he had time to spend some quality time with friends and neighbors and ate the biggest chicken fried steak he has seen in a long time.  It is a few miles south of I 40 so the cream gravy was good.

I don’t know if this guy will stay around, I know he has to go 130 miles or so west tomorrow and pick up some limbs.  If he doesn’t stay I hope he comes back again real soon because he enjoys life a lot more than that other guy.

Please say a prayer for me.

Good Night and God Bless.

Dave

Forty-eight years ago today two knuckle headed kids stood in the First Baptist Church in Tecumseh, Oklahoma and exchanged wedding vows. Those vows included the typical “I dos”, the “I wills” and the “with this ring” stuff, We also repeated after Reverend Burns; “For better or for worse, in sickness and in heath, until death do us part”.  Those are the words I took very seriously and remembered.

We walked out of the church, climbed in this ’61 Oldsmobile convertible, got a deep seat and a far away look. I put it in gear and we started down the road, a journey that would eventually be measured in years, not miles.

I had everything I wanted and I think you shared that feeling.

Along the way we experienced some better, and some worse; we were fortunate the better far exceeded the worse.  We also experienced some sickness and some heath, again we were fortunate, and there was a lot more heath.

For more than forty of those years we never gave that “until death do us part” thing any serious thought.

Forty six years eight months + or – a few days after the old Olds started down the highway, our journey ended just as we agreed it would when we exchanged those vows.

I love you babe and I miss you every day.

Thanks for riding along as the transition from  “we to me” continues.  Please keep me in your prayers.

Good Night and God Bless.

Dave

Ten months ago tonight I wrote one of these I called “Willpower, Procrastination, Emotion”.  I talked about needing to lose some weight, improve the appearance of this place I call home and to once again enjoy my time at the lake. The first two can be measured making it easy to monitor progress. The third is a feeling; it isn’t visible and can be very unstable.

I promise I will get back to you on the weight loss deal.  I really will.

I have beaten the lake thing to death in previous blogs and to be honest I am very satisfied with the progress I have made.  I won’t subject you to any of that tonight.

I still have a lot of work to do but I am finally making some progress on the appearance of the place.  I found it easier to find reasons not to attack it than to get off my butt and do what I needed to do.

Cale is back in Norman and he had a little break in what had always been a very hectic schedule.  I recruited him to help me; yes I pay him a couple bucks an hour if he stays busy.  We have painted some things, mowed some grass and weeds, trimmed some trees, cut some trees and burned some of what we cut and trimmed.  We sprayed some Roundup in the flowerbeds; I don’t think Sharyl would like that. One day we even washed a motor home.  Another day we cut some wine bottles for drinking glasses, we need to practice that just a bit.

As Cale starts to pursue some new interest, the time he spends with me will decrease, but I believe he has given me the jump start I needed and I will continue to make progress and one day soon Sharyl will like what she sees.

The previous two paragraphs described the measurable or tangible benefit of Cale spending time at my house; there is also an unexpected but very desirable intangible benefit.

From the first day we had grandkids  Sharyl and I were very much a part of their lives.  Unlike most people we never experienced having a grandkid  we started this grandparent thing with two.  We spent individual time with Rylie, Braxton and Luke, but with a very few exceptions, with Cale and Conner it was the four of us, sometimes just me and the guys or maybe Sharyl and I had just one of them but it was almost always the four of us and yes there are some great memories.

Sharyl and Conner were a little more vocal and initiated most of the conversation.  Cale and I would contribute or maybe just listen.  I went to visit him for a couple days when he was in Kansas and West Virginia. Those visits were actually brief, as his hectic schedule didn’t allow much time for Paw Paw.

The past few weeks have provided our first real opportunity to spend one on one time.  There wasn’t nearly as much conversation as when all four of us were there.  We spent most of the time quietly doing whatever the task was for that day. Our limited conversations included talk of the future, of the present and of the past, we didn’t avoid it but we didn’t dwell on it, I think that is how it has to be.

I don’t know if Cale has thought of our time together in this vein and I don’t really care, I just hope he has enjoyed spending a little one on one with the old guy he knows as Paw Paw.

Tonight I ask you to direct your prayers toward those affected by the tornadoes across our great state; especially those who lost loved ones and those who were injured.

Good Night and God Bless.

Dave

I guess I took a little unplanned break.  That is one of the things I like about having my very own blog; it is kind of like being retired.  If I don’t want to do anything I just don’t.

I have wondered how I will know when it is time to quit blogging; I think I have the answer.  I don’t think I will know, someday I just won’t write anymore, I don’t think that will happen any time soon, unless you quit reading, but as I try to transition away from that “bottom of the heart” stuff the schedule may become more erratic.

I kind of left you hanging with my vacuum fiasco.  Update: I now have a new Oreck XL commercial here (I am home tonight) and a nine year old Oreck XL at the lake.  That one saw a lot of action the first 4 ½ years it spent in our home.  The last 4 ½ it didn’t work as often but when it did work it worked real hard.

The Oreck is so simple even I understand it.  It doesn’t pull me if I push the handle nor does it push me if I pull the handle; it has a very simple ON/Off switch.  The floors at the lake are clean, well maybe not real clean but they have been vacuumed.  As soon as I get the old Hoover out of there this whole deal will just be a memory.

I kind of wish I wouldn’t have told you the vacuum story.  Now everyone that comes to my house, especially the lake house will check to see if the floors are clean.

I did a little more than just vacuum at the lake.  I spent a little time on the water, I didn’t catch any fish but I think you need to actually put a hook in the water.  I saw a pair of Bald Eagles, although sightings are becoming more common it is still very exciting.  These were in a willow tree at the water’s edge; we watched them for a few minutes from about 200 yards. They are beautiful and impressive birds.  I’m proud Ben Franklin wasn’t successful in his attempt to make the Turkey our national bird.

I enjoyed my time at the lake (except for the sweeper) this time and for the first time in forever questioned my decision to come home as soon as I did.

I know Mother’s Day has come and gone since I was here last.  To say I had a quiet one would be an understatement; I think that is exactly what I needed this year.  I better be careful I’m getting close to the heart and I don’t want to go there tonight.

The next two weeks are going to be a little difficult, so if you don’t mind, I could probably use an extra prayer.

Good Night and God Bless.

Dave