tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-491075016776171072024-03-13T06:15:10.422-06:00The Life and TimesThis is my life as I live it. While I dont have all the answers, I know a great deal of the questions. Bear with me while I rant and offend. Chances are you'll see a little of your own situation and understand a little better how I ever got here and where we might all be heading.jonkenworthyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15189325469515955394noreply@blogger.comBlogger125125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49107501677617107.post-20483725640826306392013-12-15T16:45:00.001-07:002013-12-15T16:45:28.662-07:00Grandpa Bill's ElkWell this Fall we had a wonderful opportunity again to get out into the wilds and again chase some of the most beautiful creatures God has put here on this Earth. Dad drew out for the Wasatch Mature Bull Muzzleloader tag this year for the elk. This is the same tag I picked up last year if you are playing along with the home game. It was a September hunt, and now of course it's December 15th (in the year of Our Lord 2013) so if you want to sit back, kick your feet up and read a little drivel, I've got a yarn to tell for you.<br />
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Well of course this hunt starts out toward the end of September as I alluded to earlier. I think nigh on about the 25th. I really dont remember and I'm just too lazy to review the calendar on my Iphone because that would constitute effort, and since I'm writing this on Sunday, and we dont work on Sunday, I'll just have to tell you that it was a Wednesday opener near the end of September. Well right now my phone is busy sending me about 20 photos of the even that are yet to fully download on the ol' Yahoo, so I'm going to try and reconstruct this event from memory now while we wait.<br />
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So, as I stated earlier Your Honor, we went up on a Tuesday evening and settled into the cabin there at Strawberry Reservoir just off the Highway 40 you heard so much about in the hit song, "Highway 40 Blues." Ricky Skaggs put that little ditty together back in March of 1980 and 3 and it's been a favorite every since. Anyhow, so our cabin is just off the South side of said highway just about a hop, skip and half a jump from the Soldier Creek Marina. That's not on the test or anything, I's just tellin' ya. Anyhow, so we occupied the assembly area and set about pulling security and setting out the daily requirements for the following morning's events. There was plenty to do of course, there was loading the refridgerator, there was watching a little of the Whisper Channel to get psyched-up, there was finding all of the accoutrement for his inline Knight .50 caliber rifle, and lining out the various and sundry clothing items for which many a heart has been set a flutter each time we visit the Fruitland Store, now, aptly named, "The Big G"...or, as some may have come to find it, "The G Spot." It's not really a spot really, more of an area...you know what? Never mind, when you're a little older we'll go into that, suffice it to say, Google it, just discussing this with you is making me a little weirded out at the whole concept.<br />
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So where were we? Oh yes, so we set all our toys out on the kitchen table for the next marnin'. Well, as soon as we closed our eyes, we had to turn around and open them again, because it was around 4 am and there were eggs to be eht, and bacon for ta be fried, and a whole smathering of such and some to get done. We elected to load up the Arctic Cat on the big blue, (now Black) double axle. So we drove on over to the ....oooh, I almost told ya, now didnt I? Anyhow, we weren't quite to the G Spot, and we were a ways off from the Highway 40 Blues. Anyhow, we missed the dang turn again, and flipped a U-ey and then rolled up into the sportsmans' access area du jour. Well, we had devised ourselves a little plan in which we were going to drop Papa Bear (that's Dad in this instance) off at the Highway, and I'd go on in to the parking area (aka "Beaver Pond") and park then head into the aspen and meet in the middle. Hey, let's start a new paragraph shall we?<br />
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Ah, that's better. Well, I got parked and climbed out and since I wasn't carrying any weaponry of any variety, just sort of, well, walked up into the trees. Well I was having myself a nice old time just walking, and listening, and walking a spell, and doing some more listening. Well, I got pretty close to the ridgeline and into that damnable buck brush. Well it's not the oak brush, it's that black, willowy aspenesque crap that whips you in the face and you duck under one, climb over ta utherin' and well, by the time I got to the ridgeline I was pretty well covered in those little stickers that look like ticks and working up a real lather under my fourteen layers of clothing. Which is a good departure for myAdult A.D.H.D. really: >>>>you ever (guys), realized on a really cold day, that you may have put just two too many layers of clothing on? On this particular day, I was wearing underwear (Spiderman in this case), a layer of ninja jammies, a t shirt, a ninja jammie top, a pair of pants, a pair of quilted overalls, a camo sweater, and some gloves. Well, let's just say, that if you elect to use the trap-door system on all of your men's wear, you've got quite a hump to get to Objective Kitty Litter. By the time you swing wide and around Door Number One, under and over Door Number Two, Under the T-shirt, Over the Overalls, well, by the time your volunteer fire department gets to the scene, you may as well just call it a total loss and call the insurance agent for the damages. Anyhow, this isn't normal mind you, I'm just sayin' it was cold outside. You know, shrinkage. You....KNOW about shrinkage...right???<<<<br />
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Anyhow, so I got up to the ridgeline and as I crested over I heard a thunderous applause for my efforts in the form of what sounded to be four or five quadrepedials departing with gusto. So I got up and over and started up the ridgeline to Phase Line Blue, or "The Saddle" as we've come to term it. Mostly because, well, it's a saddle. Not a literal, a mountain, you know what, forget it. Anyhow, I got up to the saddle, and started looking around for a 68 year old man in full-on camo, which, believe it or not, even when you're looking can be sorta tough to find. So, I set on down snug-up again' this stand of oakbrush and commenced to looking out over the vast area which I had come to survey. I watched as the first rays of light...well, second rays, I was running about 17 minutes late due to the buckbrush and urinary destractions we covered earlier, and I sat down with my thoughts and a pair of binoculars.<br />
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So I sat there a while and then as I looked over into the sage across the way, I spied this here old man. He was a lookin' at me, and I went to a lookin' at him. Turns out it was my dad as there were only four of us bipeds anywhere on this mountain. So I trucked on over to sit with him and ask if he'd seen any. So he told me this story about how he'd had a running shot at a big six point bull running through the trees playin' caboose with a couple of cows. So we went on over to where he shot and tried to reconstruct an episode of Columbo, but to no avail. We were plum out of Avails and the G Spot is fresh out of them too it seems. I think there's on back-order. Anyhow, so we walked just a smidge on over to the private side of the island to just get a little peak-a-loo of what we may have been missing. Well lucky for them and luckier for us, we just chased three bulls and a harem of cows just outside of range for the better part of the morning. Dad had one open shot and his gun failed to fire, because the Knight rifle which he owns has a function where the little doohickey (That's a firearms term you may not be familiar with), wasn't screwed all the way out and the cap failed to fire.<br />
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So, that constituted just about all the elk we saw for the next three days. As I recall it started then to get progressively colder and a couple of days at just over 10K feet elevation, we just stopped hunting at midday and started a fire to thaw a little. Which is a good placeholder for a little lesssons learned here. If you're trying to start a fire, and you're critically low on toilet paper, and your kindling is mostly wet, DONT crush up a pyrodex (gunpowder) pellet, and put it into a little flashpan of t.p. and try to ignite it like Rambo might in an abandon mine. All it does is flash and blow out your fire, and your wet sticks, and most of your eyebrows really.<br />
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So, we hunted the side canyon over the next day or so, and then the girls and mom and Josh came up. Wait, back up, I went home Friday night and watched Josh's football game and then brought him up after it on Friday. I'm pretty sure they lost, but they were all winners for trying. Which is why the U.S. is so enamored with soccer, competive cup stacking, and other non-sport sports. So, about that time, Isabelle and Lexi showed up on scene with my mom. Josh went out with dad that Sunday, and I took mom and the girls to the Fruitland LDS branch and just had a lovely time. I repented of the vast majority of my sinnin' and then headed out Sunday afternoon to try and rack up my score again.<br />
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So, Josh had school Monday, but the girls were off the next week due to the commemoration of the wedding of the second son of Fatimah's martyring or whatever the hell Utah Education Association (UEA) thing they have going every Fall in Vegas. Well, let me back up, I think Josh AND Lexi went home with Grandma on Sunday. So Isabelle stayed. <br />
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Well that leads up to our nearly-exciting conclusion. Let me just say I am THOROUGHLY impressed with Isabelle this year. The girl was sick, coughing and weezing, and she accompanied us the entire rest of the time. We bird dogged the next three days and she didnt complain ONCE. Poor kid. Well, it's about time to wrap this up, so here goes.<br />
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Just about Wednesday or Thursday, about two days from end of the hunt, we finally got into them again. There was all kinds of bugling going on in this little tiny draw. So we sat down in this stand of aspens and started cow-calling to two near bulls and two distant bulls. We could hear them fighting just across the little draw from us, but couldnt get them to come in. Up the draw we could hear one moving away from us, but continuing to bugle. Finally, it sounded like they all began to move away from us, so we closed the gap a little as quickly as we could.<br />
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Well as we walked up out of the draw, there was a long flat area with downed aspen. Just above us, right at the tree line, we could hear an elk bugling. So we quietly moved up toward the treeline quite out in the open and hanging in the breeze as it were. Well right as we hit the tree line, off to our right an animal jumped. We immediately went to a knee and looked. About seventy yards out, there were two doe deer. Behind them, and I wouldnt have believed it if I hadnt seen it, was a bull elk feeding. He was under heavy canopy in the aspens and it was really difficult to see his rack, but we could tell it was a larger bull. Well, the does got a little nervous, and started to cut across the side face right above us. Well, I could see the bull was following them. We let Isabelle know to be quiet, that the bull was going to follow right behind them, as he was using them as look-outs. So, as they cut across the sideface, they got nervous, and started to head back up the hill. Just as we'd predicted, the bull came right out into the same small opening they had. There wasn't much time to aim and less time to judge, and the hammer fell. A big cloud of white smoke filled the air and the bull stood there. What seemed like an eternity he stood there and finally decided to walk again while we endeavored to charge the musket for a second go-round. Well, just about then, his rear end gave way and he fell down and crashed to the ground. We headed over, prepared to shoot him again, but he was done for. The .50 caliber slug had entered low on the left side, and exited high on the right, making short work of the lung. He expired right there before us and Isabelle went quiet for the next two or three hours while we went about the ugly work of quartering him out to pack him to the trail.<br />
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So, a few short hours later, we had the cape and head, the quarters and loins and we were back at camp making lunch and fleshing out the hide. Dad has since had the little four point mounted in a European mount, that is to say, "just the horns" on a wood base. It's now displayed prominently in the cabin adjacent to both Brandon's and my bull in the great room. We had a great time. We really enjoyed the trip. Perhaps the best part about it, was the fact that Isabelle has since come to understand that the grocery store doesnt manufacture burger. That it comes from somewhere. More importantly, some animal gave everything for us, and a failure to appreciate that is of great disservice to both us, and the animal. Her eyes were opened that day to what we should all remember, that animals are to be respected and appreciated, never wasted. That what we are given and the bounty that our Heavenly Father gives us should not be taken lightly. We had a wonderful time together. Memories that will be ours to cherish forever. I hope you enjoyed the story, and if I've left anyone, or anything out, I'm sorry. It's a simple oversight.<br />
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Talk to you again soon,<br />
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Jjonkenworthyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15189325469515955394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49107501677617107.post-46517916451381583282013-09-15T09:50:00.001-06:002013-09-15T09:50:33.074-06:00Sometimes a Melody, Sounds like a Memory... (UNCLASSIFIED)<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW49i_LvfR73i8uBUwsMPOzPcJ2Q1FGtRdyMXWVgyzmvi5e0hVefLtV68b-RGyJH0at7ThHyxV8Fww9bMl123vU-4unDelAbl0GWBaN_aeoB6t3Q6P6nG4LeC3R2IajAbfmwnMPmCpK5g/s1600/dad+and+the+girls-733074.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW49i_LvfR73i8uBUwsMPOzPcJ2Q1FGtRdyMXWVgyzmvi5e0hVefLtV68b-RGyJH0at7ThHyxV8Fww9bMl123vU-4unDelAbl0GWBaN_aeoB6t3Q6P6nG4LeC3R2IajAbfmwnMPmCpK5g/s320/dad+and+the+girls-733074.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5923877595241556658" /></a></p><p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq95z1Pd4PYrm_2FM48sgaLQR54xrioUlftBRmatRcMdcuMPsCVzQG2ZXLSlWzgCM7tOKxp9lplOJWcTEn_oqJ5wiBLH8-jNgCTwATfEPg0T7ev6iwGacxS0brU4l3-6xc_Bm-bRpyzho/s1600/dad+and+me-735550.PNG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq95z1Pd4PYrm_2FM48sgaLQR54xrioUlftBRmatRcMdcuMPsCVzQG2ZXLSlWzgCM7tOKxp9lplOJWcTEn_oqJ5wiBLH8-jNgCTwATfEPg0T7ev6iwGacxS0brU4l3-6xc_Bm-bRpyzho/s320/dad+and+me-735550.PNG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5923877604669825698" /></a></p><p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLFxZWljMFQkbF8v_n0OkhGaDDut8Fu1ey-6zzimRDnZtpf10aJurLed4v3rF39i3QCLR3ZezZmV-O56dEarObJnsRx1NqAz0f5KXZWKRLXIvX9AjSoyFhuqqOzDdpKsl1ye6hkMCgRfM/s1600/dad+and+the+kids-737873.PNG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLFxZWljMFQkbF8v_n0OkhGaDDut8Fu1ey-6zzimRDnZtpf10aJurLed4v3rF39i3QCLR3ZezZmV-O56dEarObJnsRx1NqAz0f5KXZWKRLXIvX9AjSoyFhuqqOzDdpKsl1ye6hkMCgRfM/s320/dad+and+the+kids-737873.PNG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5923877618109199810" /></a></p><p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik4y_8qJ2ctG8eb_dwkr1ejwIePLsHsyydy6SKXe7UYTWtBqERCdUZRw8ncpx5PFBTI3hsfQMp-24-2ctMA5lfTdnt29ug13Vrp7PHPCzaV6W3FqQCOvGixNCuyqY3WCYhLkcYCul-ZDE/s1600/easter8-739894.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik4y_8qJ2ctG8eb_dwkr1ejwIePLsHsyydy6SKXe7UYTWtBqERCdUZRw8ncpx5PFBTI3hsfQMp-24-2ctMA5lfTdnt29ug13Vrp7PHPCzaV6W3FqQCOvGixNCuyqY3WCYhLkcYCul-ZDE/s320/easter8-739894.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5923877621761753186" /></a></p>Classification: UNCLASSIFIED
<br>Caveats: FOUO
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<br>Well good morning. Hey, how've you been of late? Wow, been a while huh? So today I'm at work, AGAIN. It's a Sunday. Yesterday was "Governor's Day." That's where we invite all the Soldiers and Airmen in the State and their families to come and stand in the hot sun at attention and listen to the Governor and The Adjutant General (TAG) wax eloquent. It was a good one. There were probably five thousand Soldiers and Airmen out on the field at West Lake High School in Lehi, Utah. We normally do it at Camp Williams, but we have all sorts of construction going on throughout post and it just wasn't a tenable solution to our yearly requirement to bring kids and cotton candy and burgers together in celebration.
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<br>So, I just told you a little about what we've been focused on hot and heavy the past little while. I've personally got a few irons in the fire. Here at Camp I'm working to get our Morale Welfare and Recreation organization a café up and running so we can capitalize on the 600 Soldiers and Civilians and now the 300 some-odd construction workers that want coffee and donuts in the morning. See, our PX (little store that never has the uniform items you need) doesn't open until 11:00 hours (That's 11 am to you civilian types). So, nobody can get the requisite temperature of starter fluid in the morning to kickstart their days. So, the post Executive Officer and I were rapping, you know, keepin' it real, one day, and we synergistically stumbled upon this idea(r). So, originally we were talking about buying a double-axle gut-wagon type trailer like you'd see at the Fair. Then I reminded him we have about 30 metal shipping containers scattered from Hell to Breakfast across camp and we could use one of them. Then we took a field trip up to the Big City one afternoon and visited a Starbucks made from shipping containers ("connexes," in Militarese). He was smitten at first whiff. So, I've got my guys designing and scoping out old junk stuff to make this thing get up and fly. So far we've located some potential connexes for repurposing and some stainless steel tables and what-not for-to-which to outfit her. So, the idea is we'll have a drive up window for the laziest and latest of us, and a walk-up window for the talkative minority. Anyhow, now we're talking about using some firing platforms we used to use to fire the .50 cal machine guns from back in the day and making a 6' high deck to sit on. Anyhow, so picture this, you go to the, "Connex Café" then you go over from there and sit in the filtered sun beneath the 80 year old English Elms and sip your Folger's Crystals and eat your day old donut in the crisp Fall air. It's totally gonna rock. We're going to shorten it to the, "C2" which is Militarese Acronym for, "Command and Control." Not to bore you much further, but if you talk there, it becomes the, "C3-I". The, "Command Control and Communication and Information Center." Ok, it's a warrior thing, you don't get it. Whatever, point is, I'm going to ensure they have Diet Coke on tap for those of us forced to enjoy our caffeine cold.
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<br>So, I brought you up to speed on the bunk house stuff, so I won't bore you with that. Point is here, in the spirit of brevity, that I'm hoping that dad dumps his muzzleloader elk within the first three days of his ten day hunt. Then I'll hijack his time and we'll work on cutting more logs and milling them before Winter hits. The family says all I talk about are logs. They even joke I talk in my sleep, "20 foot logs.blubherb bhhallah." OK, it' s true, I've been a bit obsessed.
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<br>So that's a nice segue as any I suppose. Dad and I are going to head up to the cabin on or about the 24th and begin his hunt the next morning. He's been exercising his elk bugle and cow mew diaphragms at Josh's games whenever there's a touchdown. What can I say? He's his own man, you can't change the guy. He loves his grandkids and he loves being unique and chances are I'm going to turn into him so I might as well smile and enjoy it. The other day he was forced by my mom to attend church at our ward and he was noisily voicing his opposition sitting there in the pew. Because of his hearing, he doesn't know exactly how loud he's speaking and so people around us get a little stiff at his remarks. Which, turns out are spot-on, but really shouldn't be voiced to the people sitting in front of you, whom happen to be the parents of the return missionary speaker who's now 15 minute over time.
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<br>So, here I am at drill. I've already found a bunch of Pinteresting things including the songs I'm listening to on my I Heart Radio, currently set to, "Miranda" (meow meow kitty meow). I've powered down a 32 oz Diet Luv, eaten two breakfast Mcburritos and now I'm totally unmotivated to do just about anything else. Don't get me wrong, I have ALL kinds of things to do. But I'm just a little burnt out.
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<br>You know, I had a lot to talk about, but it turns out it's all internal. I'd rather be in Huntsville, Alabama today having a Sunday afternoon burger watching a game at a little local bar. Some place with tin roof panels on the wall and a waitress missing a tooth and a juke box in the corner, an old coke machine, some red bar stools and a fifties setup. I know of just such a place. Sometime I may take you if things work out in our favor. Then we'll head over to the NASA Air and Space Museum and later hit this other place that has local bands play in a courtyard behind the bar that you can watch tipsy blondes dance inappropriately. Nothing like a southern belle slurring her words trying to talk you into reconsidering to really make you realize it's time to get back to post. Sorry, I was projecting a little. Anyhow, I could use a trip someplace where people are real and you can enjoy a Sunday afternoon the way the rest of the world does instead of packing it full of meetings and places you HAVE to be.
<br>I guess, after reading through all this, what I'm yearning for right now, is something that reminds us that sometimes a melody, sounds like a memory, of a soundtrack to a July Saturday night. Maybe I should play some Springsteen now?
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<br>.Springsteen.
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<br>You take care, I'm going to fake it a few more hours, have lunch, and fake it again till end of exercise.
<br>All the best Kids,
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<br>J
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<br>P.S. the photos have very little to do with anything, just stuff we've done over the Summer. It's just eye-candy. You're welcome by the way.
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<br>Classification: UNCLASSIFIED
<br>Caveats: FOUOjonkenworthyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15189325469515955394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49107501677617107.post-25528390092683985472013-08-04T11:17:00.001-06:002013-08-04T11:17:58.480-06:00Summer 2013 Update...<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8eqtKFnAVyJ4SfhDT0zrmnP3xOjeM9aNCygQ_PMY4WUxn8JwDaxrkdXrMQ-EiAYzSiF3swmXAfuTZ-CC5Y5p-rASTzcalF7ulJBAtmxu8pJWBP2basW483zHmFTOPwnL6VZ7X30GAsUs/s1600/cows-778480.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8eqtKFnAVyJ4SfhDT0zrmnP3xOjeM9aNCygQ_PMY4WUxn8JwDaxrkdXrMQ-EiAYzSiF3swmXAfuTZ-CC5Y5p-rASTzcalF7ulJBAtmxu8pJWBP2basW483zHmFTOPwnL6VZ7X30GAsUs/s320/cows-778480.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5908314548250404706" /></a></p><p class="mobile-photo"><a 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href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbbRJhzLY2uYu0FyH89AhZlL5WsOJMCDv-j8yAgd8RTugGaFGga0YfoYopjm4I67_whKxAGWzfrQH41X0oezrmeq48kce28PFJki-8MthuKheocsQu77N_1Ry5sfoZ6vl-rWKTcNrXMP8/s1600/log9-716774.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbbRJhzLY2uYu0FyH89AhZlL5WsOJMCDv-j8yAgd8RTugGaFGga0YfoYopjm4I67_whKxAGWzfrQH41X0oezrmeq48kce28PFJki-8MthuKheocsQu77N_1Ry5sfoZ6vl-rWKTcNrXMP8/s320/log9-716774.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5908314710334942050" /></a></p><p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLSh1LolkzZg7JYRU6pdO8MR73CBUD8a7tlrjQ_zh854ghMHtJ6TkpV5L0RKin9JnIz1DB-bYI3-u3zlE8Y2IeD3BL2tMvhk8tzecTidtsDP9tYk6q7kVAvddl0u4Cx7EVUP58ZaMmwA4/s1600/bunkhouse1-719030.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLSh1LolkzZg7JYRU6pdO8MR73CBUD8a7tlrjQ_zh854ghMHtJ6TkpV5L0RKin9JnIz1DB-bYI3-u3zlE8Y2IeD3BL2tMvhk8tzecTidtsDP9tYk6q7kVAvddl0u4Cx7EVUP58ZaMmwA4/s320/bunkhouse1-719030.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5908314719449574498" /></a></p><div style="color:#000; background-color:#fff; font-family:times new roman, new york, times, serif;font-size:12pt"><div> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><font face="Calibri">Summer Update</font></div><div> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><font face="Calibri"><span class="tab"> </span>OK, let's see now…where…did we leave off?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ah yes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So let me just do a little outline here to ensure that we cover most everything I planned on boring you to death with:</font></div><div> <font face="Calibri">1)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Cattle on Camp Williams</font></div><div> <font face="Calibri">3)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Log cutting for the Pergola, and Bunkhouse projects</font></div><div> <font face="Calibri">2) Septic System at the lot…no wait, switch the order of 2 and 3 there. The chicken came first, not the egg.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The egg is STILL a little miffed the chicken rolled over and went to sleep…where were we?</font></div><div> <font face="Calibri">4) Boat and ATV rides this Summer</font></div><div> <font face="Calibri">5) Santa Fe, NM</font></div><div> <font face="Calibri">6) <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Random Thoughts…</font></div><div> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><font face="Calibri"><span class="tab"> </span>OK, so here's the deal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We brought some cattle on Camp Williams this year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>'Bout five hundred tuther 'em.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well, why am I writing about this??? Well, mostly because, "THEY" said it couldn't be done.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>See, cattle on Camp is no new thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The last time we had them out was over a decade ago though.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It has something to do with the riparian streams and how cattles mush up the edges of the stream and then poop in it and what-not.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anyhow, you may recall we had a fire a few years ago, and sorta…well, burned four houses down in the community directly to our North.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well, anyhow, the Lehi Cattleman's Assoc. (A loosely compiled group of about 11 families in the Lehi, Utah area) approached me about brining cattles onto our here Camp see?</font></div><div> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><font face="Calibri"><span class="tab"> </span>So, anyhow, they were selling how great it would be that our cows (their cows that is, I'm jumping ahead) would eat down the fine fuels on Camp to include the highly flammable, and dern-near explosive cheat grass that invades everything about us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well, after some discussions with our Environmental folks, they just plum said that not only, 'No' but, "HELL NO." Which rightly didn't sit right with me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, anyhow, we've been having a pissin' match with them over the past year about another issue entirely, so I figured this was a good a time as any to go to blows.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></font></div><div> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><font face="Calibri"><span class="tab"> </span>So, anyhow, they give me every reason under the sun as to why we couldn't do it. But, see, we pay over $200K per YEAR to have goats and sheep on Camp to selectively graze along our firebreaks all throughout Camp. The idea is (and they're quite good at it) that they strip down literally EVERY green thing there is in their path.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, I'm no environmentalist, but cattle that eat JUST grass, and leave the sacred deer-habitat Utah Sagebrush, cant be much worse right?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anyhow, so I opened some dialogue along with my superb Non-Commissioned Officers and an as-yet unsung hero we'll call…. "Sean." (Cause his name's Sean) and we set about to scientifically remove the mental obstacles keeping us from our steak….er…cows.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></font></div><div> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><font face="Calibri"><span class="tab"> </span>So, in a stroke of genius…(mine, I claim it, SHAMELESSLY I might add) I axed the Environmental weenies for a copy of their goat/sheep contract.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then I axed them what would keep us from re-bidding a similar contract along our Southern boundary and adding two words, "…OR<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Cattle." Well, they really couldn't argue with me, mostly because I'm so damn convincing when the Chief of Staff and the General want us to NOT burn down houses…so we let the contract bid.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well I'll be gat-damned if they didn't come in the lowest bidder, and we run these here cattle all across our border with Eagle Mountain and Saratoga Springs and plum stripped out ALL the June grass and fine-fuels betwixt our Southern road (Watt's Road) and our Southern boundary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And oh uh, it looks GOOOOD.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There's a complete void of fine fuels where once there was cows, and where there a wasn't –en.</font></div><div> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><font face="Calibri"><span class="tab"> </span>Well, I was kinda pissed about it at this point that they made me jump through so many hoops to do the right thing, so after discussions with Stacey (who's purdy smart it turns out) she gave me the idea(r) to have a dutch oven breakfast for the Generals and the Chief of Staff and all key leaders that needed to see this here success story.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh and uh, we put them on horseback to ride for an hour through the recently chewed down wasteland of fuels and on into a nice sit-down complete with pancakes and Daileys Bacon (my favorite) and some home-made jam and eggs and syrups and stuff.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh, RESOUNDING coup! I was extactic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>By the way, we invited the Unified Fire Wildland Firefighters we just hired to come out and have breakfast with the Generals and hob-nob.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Turns out, it was just plain a kick-ass success.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I've got more planned for folks that are dumb enough to stand in the way of progress, but since I'm not building a railroad to the Pacific, I'll just have to focus on kickin' ass and takin' names on my 26,000 acres here for now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh, you'll see some pics of a couple of the cattle drives we did. In particular, my favorite, is a day I brought Lexi out as we drove the cattle off Camp and into West Canyon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></font></div><div> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /><o:p><font face="Calibri"> </font></o:p></div><div> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><font face="Calibri"><span class="tab"> </span>OK, next you'll see some pictures of a couple of log projects I started this Summer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One is a log Pergola.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It's about 14 feet x 28 feet and will ultimately have an outdoor kitchen and wetbar when things all fall into place over the next couple of years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For now, I'm just going to pour some footings and concrete and erect the structure, then maybe next year I can start the outdoor kitchen (a la HGTV) and then a step-down into a fire pit area complete with block walls and retainers and one of those giant block pizza ovens you saw at the Home Show this Spring.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anyhow, over the last few weeks I've made a couple of trips with Craig and then again with my dad and Wayne and cut some sizeable specimins for-to-which to work into a picture that I blatantly stole from Houzz.com.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anyhow, with a little bit of imagination you can see what we plan on doing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The pictures are taken both on our lot in Fruitland, and up the aptly named, "Timber Canyon" where we harvested these logs after pulling a 35.00 permit for four cords of wood. </font></div><div> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><font face="Calibri"><span class="tab"> </span>It should be noted that some of these are in excess of 12" in diameter and the bigger ones are about 10 feet long and represent the corner posts, where some others are 8" in diameter and about 14' long and are the horizontals.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Also of note, you'll see plans I've started draw(r)ing up for a small bunk house, which will be 16x24 with a half-loft.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There wont be water or electrical (for now) because I don't want it classified as a cabin quite yet, but I'll slap on a nice sitting porch, and it will serve as over-flow seating/sleeping for visitors and kids as we are quickly reaching capacity in our $6K trailer we purchased in '10.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></font></div><div> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><o:p><font face="Calibri"> </font></o:p></div><div> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><font face="Calibri"><span class="tab"> </span>Let's see, what else??? Oh yeah the septic system is in, and I need to run another lateral for two more hookups for visiting trailer trash, and I figure about 500 in parts and a little tractor work and that'll be in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I'm thinking about a log covering for the trailer complete with rock fascia uprights that needs to be about 20' x 35' and 15' high at the center to accommodate the trailer, but that's after I'm successful with the pergola and are started on our bunkhouse.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All in all, for the cost of some concrete and forms, as well as miniscule amounts for cutting permits, and with the help of friends like Craig and my dad's help, we're gettin' her done.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I'm going to need a few truckloads of gravel at about 150 bucks per load, and the concrete at a five-yard minimum at about 180.00 a yard, so it's pay as you go, but the biggest portion of the effort of getting the logs, cutting them to length and notching them is well under way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></font></div><div> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><font face="Calibri"><span class="tab"> </span>Meanwhile, you'll see some pictures of our latest trip in the boat with dad and the two oldest girls. That was taken over the weekend of the 24<sup><font size="2">th</font></sup> this year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Additionally, about two months ago, Dad, Josh and I rode up and scouted logs and looked over Strawberry, then we did it again a couple weeks later over the 4<sup><font size="2">th</font></sup> with Stacey's mom and pop (not pictured here).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They are good people and loaned us a couple of ATV's to go with them which was really nice to say the least.</font></div><div> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><o:p><font face="Calibri"> </font></o:p></div><div> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><font face="Calibri"><span class="tab"> </span>I'll be honest, I can't believe you're still reading, but earlier this year I took a trip to Santa Fe, NM for a week of training, and then again in June I went to my CGSOC (Command and General Staff College) Phase I in Wisconsin, where I met up with my Uncle John (my dad's old Navy Buddy) and his wife Londa and stayed overnight on their farm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I've included a picture of their cabin which is 20x30 that they built by hand (well their logs were purchased and milled, but still) that sits about 300 yards from their house on their 200 acres.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pretty cool, but they're going to sell it, and I'm about $2 million shy of being able to purchase it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bummer. <var id="yui-ie-cursor"></var></font><font face="Calibri">Well hey, listen, I gotta run, but it was great talking to you and sometime you should maybe try and get a word in edge-wise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know I love listening to myself, but perhaps you don't, so if you bothered to read this, thanks, if you didn't, well…it just plain sucks to be you I guess. </font><font face="Calibri">OK, I'm closing now, you be sure to remember who ya are and where you come from. I'll put pen to paper this Fall after dad and I kill his big elk on the Muzzleloader (same tag as mine from last year) and I'll have more pictures of us doing lumberjack/Mountain Man stuff just like Jeremiah Johnson.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All the best to you and your's.</font></div><div> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><o:p><font face="Calibri"> </font></o:p></div><div> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><font face="Calibri">J</font></div><div> </div></div>jonkenworthyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15189325469515955394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49107501677617107.post-91687792762918255022013-04-28T09:51:00.001-06:002013-04-28T09:51:46.024-06:00Love's Gonna Live Here Again...<div style="color:#000; background-color:#fff; font-family:times new roman, new york, times, serif;font-size:12pt"><div><div class="MsoNormal">Good morning. Well, as you can probably tell, I didn't run off during the night and here I am again layin' on your porch waiting for a ham bone or breakfast leftovers of some kind to drop out of your hand. I just got kicked out from in front of the mirror after polishing the pearly-whites and raking out my hair and I figured since everyone was abnormally quiet today (on a Sunday no less) I'd put fingers to keyboard and let you in on the goings-on.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 16px; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; background-color: transparent; font-style: normal;"><br></div> <div class="MsoNormal">Well, this morning while warshing my 2000 Parts I was listening to the I Heart on the ol' Victrola Ipod. Sometimes I listen to the various "stations", in particular the Alan Jackson or George Jones channels. Alan tells it like it is and George tells everyone to go to H.E. Double Hockey Sticks in an old-man who's still got it in him to scrap sorta way. Anyhow this morning they allowed someone to sing about Luckenbach, Texas and sellin' diamond rings and boots and jeans and I just realized I haven't fulfilled my fiduciary duties to you, the fans, for some time now. So, if you'll both just sit back, relax, and crack open a bran muffin and turn off Little House we'll begin.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 16px; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; background-color: transparent; font-style: normal;"><br></div> <div class="MsoNormal">Where were we? Oh, so let me give you a run-down. The contractor finished the septic tank last week and I got a line on a 300 gallon propane tank for about a buck a gallon. It's a sweet little unit that looks a little like R2D2 if he was an albino droid. Minus the leg-scooter-thingies of course. Any how I was helping dad move Lacy from her apartment into a house here in old Riverton and asked her dad to sell it to me. It's a windfall, because then I don't have to transport the smaller tanks back and forth from Fruitland to Salt Lake. So, at last count, we now have water to shower, propane to heat, and the proverbial pot (for to which to whizz in).</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 16px; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; background-color: transparent; font-style: normal;"><br></div> <div class="MsoNormal">So from there, I cleaned up the back patio from all the sand the kids kicked out of the area I'd pulled the patio stones out of. Chopped both the lawns, culled out the flower beds, trimmed the trees, cleaned the garage, started a fight with Stacey, pulled the ramp off the stairs I'd made, helped Stacey take the salt downstairs, grilled some dead cow, and…uh…that's about it. Well, unless you count the ENDLESS whining and gnashing of teeth. That's just me I'm talking about. Our kids have been sick since…oh….2010ish. Yeah, not even hyperbole really paints the picture I'm trying to convey. Hold on, I'm gonna start a new paragraph, buckle up.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 16px; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; background-color: transparent; font-style: normal;"><br></div> <div class="MsoNormal">OK, so, yeah, snotty noses, coughing, wheezing, antibiotics, chest colds, whining, more whining. I just flipped out yesterday. It was bad too. One of those patented, world renouned..renounned…ren…anhow it was one of those, Jon Kenworthy, powder keg meltdowns you may have heard six streets over. I'm convinced, and NOONE will ever talk me out of believing, that SOMEONE will expire…just…flat out…stop breathing…if I sit down and enjoy myself for longer than say…oh…four minutes. It's a friggin' mad house I tell you. It's so bad, that I literally loathe the idea of trying to enjoy myself at home anymore. The kids have been sick so long, and it takes so much of our combined efforts to just tread water, that I'm sick of it. I've literally reached the end of my patience level and one more dance competition, or double-header soccer game is going to drive me to drink. And I don't even LIKE the taste of beer. Let alone pissing every fourteen minutes. Plus I imagine drinking alone and in secret it going to prove difficult since everywhere you look there's a pair of prying eyes and clawing hands demanding sippy cups, new underwear, declaring unfinished homework 12 minutes prior to school starting….it's endless. What's worse? Yeah, I signed UP for this. This is a world of my own making. I tell you what. This weren't in the brochure, that's for damn sure.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 16px; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; background-color: transparent; font-style: normal;"><br></div> <div class="MsoNormal">Where were we? Okay, well that's the end of my little rant. I'm coming up on the 9 minute mark where I've been alone and I'm certain there is a sink full of dishes asexually doubling and redoubling while I'm not watching somewhere. But, listen, let me outline some good things before I go.</div> <div class="MsoNormal">So, Lexi is out of the chair now and hopping around on crutches. Oh, you thought I just pulled out the ramp to add an additional fire-danger? Nah, she's doing awesome. She's really an example to me of effort and attitude. Thank goodness for Lexi, beca….wait, I spoke too soon, she's arguing with Isabelle about occupancy of one of the THREE bathrooms we have in this house. So, lucky for me, Stacey's upstairs listening to the Mormon Channel and the Tabernacle Choir is drifting over the banister and down into the bowels of the first level of Dante's Inferno. But here's the deal, I'm looking out the front window, and though all the colors in the tulips have now blended together into a simple pink and white flower set, the grass looks cool, and the world is full of promise. The tree looks a little happier, and the now flower-less daffodils are breathing a collective sigh of relief from lack of grass choking them. I've only got two or three sprinkler heads that are acting up this year, and I think I may just be able to get to them sometimes shy of next Fall to fix them.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 16px; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; background-color: transparent; font-style: normal;"><br></div> <div class="MsoNormal">Oh, and before we part, don't expect to hear too much for a while, I've got a week of school here mid-month in May, Quatro de Mayo to celebrate in the circle, and the last two weeks of June in school. Throw in a couple of drill weekends spread throughout and I'll see you in July sometime up at the lot I guess. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 16px; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; background-color: transparent; font-style: normal;"><br></div> <div class="MsoNormal">Before I forget, Stacey let me sleep in today and had three rolled up breakfast burritos for me that she brought upstairs. I don't deserve this gal I tell ya. <span style="font-size: 12pt;">Anyhow, I gotta split, the three year old needs the light on. I promise to be more positive next time. They can't all be gems. Anyhow you take care.</span></div> <div class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></div> <div class="MsoNormal">All the best.</div> <div class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></div> <div class="MsoNormal">J</div></div></div>jonkenworthyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15189325469515955394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49107501677617107.post-5082145128678512662013-04-02T14:48:00.001-06:002013-04-02T14:48:50.234-06:00Mr. Mom, the Cadbury Bunny, and Other Stories of War...<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdKNbr35yvewySiQVWoiSbBz3ntJz8ivr2kmzjvem2kFaNqjWo8BHYqsETiSTDOHX3cZMy8TB09mkD9OfBLoTmvM0r0uLvJuBZRJemzYadYSgdY8S005YAPEmzkUbHbxF37JeNnGKvntk/s1600/easter5-730234.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdKNbr35yvewySiQVWoiSbBz3ntJz8ivr2kmzjvem2kFaNqjWo8BHYqsETiSTDOHX3cZMy8TB09mkD9OfBLoTmvM0r0uLvJuBZRJemzYadYSgdY8S005YAPEmzkUbHbxF37JeNnGKvntk/s320/easter5-730234.JPG" border="0" alt="" 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src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv6shreAn-VkUsiun9kilVxFmzdf1uQkbwuF-mamcBT_LDeiOQjr90oRwvqx6Ot5_iLsHUiJ87cbm6eGr1eOFB7SnHneODIM7YR_UhW0pjVsUsZ6qaZBkBnIGvov1uw601Dd5BYOKAmrI/s320/easter6-747696.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5862354398222996850" /></a></p><p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVNIt75qg-yaMRnrT5eU7ZIESX7y4F9wi5l-iN6lg0nkGbQoyNttGsMX5u4XZaAK1u3wbqfmgazYIMgv_HKfqNjtbQPSN3JingmVIniox73ezeSNShRbmxKQufzkzQcrzV_CuTczuDac0/s1600/easter10-749825.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVNIt75qg-yaMRnrT5eU7ZIESX7y4F9wi5l-iN6lg0nkGbQoyNttGsMX5u4XZaAK1u3wbqfmgazYIMgv_HKfqNjtbQPSN3JingmVIniox73ezeSNShRbmxKQufzkzQcrzV_CuTczuDac0/s320/easter10-749825.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5862354409211127650" /></a></p><p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisobnY1MIpoOPo852FGDrFi3_Hu4l9SM3nl5W2K8Cn6t60uSkpUOocaOA59EvyDXWvvoiJKDBbgCD8XaxvJXsVuBRZb8d9-jgUgWHeknpz_UOhJ466m-2ndHbPfyz8GxDoo840a4lUZ4w/s1600/easter-751631.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisobnY1MIpoOPo852FGDrFi3_Hu4l9SM3nl5W2K8Cn6t60uSkpUOocaOA59EvyDXWvvoiJKDBbgCD8XaxvJXsVuBRZb8d9-jgUgWHeknpz_UOhJ466m-2ndHbPfyz8GxDoo840a4lUZ4w/s320/easter-751631.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5862354412891272434" /></a></p><div style="color:#000; background-color:#fff; font-family:times new roman, new york, times, serif;font-size:12pt"><div id="yiv48094338"><div><div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: times new roman, new york, times, serif; font-size: 12pt; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"><div id="yiv48094338yui_3_7_2_18_1364934249938_35"> <var id="yui-ie-cursor"></var></div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="yiv48094338MsoNormal"><font id="yiv48094338yui_3_7_2_18_1364934249938_75" face="Calibri">Okay so, let's see, um…to bring you all up to speed…uh…well, where to start? So, about a month ago I drafted up a little yellow press article about how great we're doing as a family and how I just love Draw Something and a slug of other boring stuff about life and luxury at the ol' Homestead.<span> </span>Well, so since last we spoke, here's a little snapshot of what went down:<span id="yiv48094338yui_3_7_2_18_1364934249938_76"> </span>1) Lexi had her surgery; B) Easter; 4) Life went on.</font></div><div id="yiv48094338yui_3_7_2_18_1364934249938_35"> <font id="yiv48094338yui_3_7_2_18_1364934249938_89" face="Calibri">So, in that order let me bring you up on our goings on.<span> </span>So, Lexi went in for that surgery I alluded to earlier.<span> </span>She went in on a Tuesday and had a couple of screws put into each knee at the growth plate on the interior sides.<span> </span>Then they removed one of the bolts from her right foot which was set in there to allow that ligament to tighten up so her arches wouldn't flatten out and continue to cause pain.<span> </span>Then, the coups de gracias, she had her right femur broken with a "bone chisel", and the doctors placed a metal rod inside the bone cavity and rotating it 22 degrees outward then zipped it down with the ol' Dewalt screw gun.<span> </span>She was in quite a bit of pain that first day, as it was about a three hour surgery to accomplish all that.<span> </span>Poor kid couldn't eat beginning at midnight the night before, and we'd been at the hospital (Primary Children's), since 11 am.<span> </span>Little segue here, but Primary Children's' is a class act hospital.<span> </span>It's not on par with Shriner's as far as catering to children, but the staff was amazing.<span> </span>They had a little play area where we played a little foosball and Disney Monopoly while we waited for her surgery to begin two hours behind schedule.<span> </span>Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining, this is an organization that caters to children and strives to make their lives better.</font></div><div id="yiv48094338yui_3_7_2_18_1364934249938_35"> <font face="Calibri">So while we were there, we played as I said some games, and Lexi made a pink cape for her little sister Olivia with colored glue and stripper glitter and buttons and stuff.<span> </span>She's really quite crafty that kid I tell ya. </font></div><div id="yiv48094338yui_3_7_2_18_1364934249938_35"> </div><div><font face="Calibri">Anyhow, they finally called her back and Stacey and I were left in the waiting room with our individual and collective fears while they wheeled our little girl back into the sedation area and on into the surgical center.<span> </span>When they finally called Stacey back (only one could go back at a time) Lexi had a little trouble and I wasn't able to see her for a couple hours after that.<span> </span>I finally got to see her in her room at just shy of ten pm.<span> </span>She opened her eyes, asked for me, fluttered them back shut and she slept through the next thirty minutes of my being there.</font></div><div id="yiv48094338yui_3_7_2_18_1364934249938_35"> <font face="Calibri">Well, from there I left the hospital after sampling with Stacey some of their delectable cuisine down in the hospital cafeteria. By the way, the old lady making change had a good sense of humor, but the lady that replaced her the next day had about as much personality as a Portobello mushroom.<span> </span>That's WITHOUT the cheese and fixin's mind you.</font></div><div id="yiv48094338yui_3_7_2_18_1364934249938_35"> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="yiv48094338MsoNormal"><font id="yiv48094338yui_3_7_2_18_1364934249938_56" face="Calibri">Anyhow, that night I courageously assumed the role of Mr. Mom and set about a new standard of expectation for the remaining personnel at Fort McKenworthy.<span> </span>So that night I think I got up with Sam only twice, thrust a bottle his direction, and talked Olivia down off the snuffy-nose ledge twice through the aid and comfort of a sippy cup.<span> </span>We were quite out of Pink Milk (aka Nestle Strawberry Quick) and so we went to war with the milk we had, not the milk we wanted.<span> </span>Well, the next morning was Friday and I can't remember how, but I got Josh to school for type lab at 0700 and then commenced to righting all the wrongs in the household.<span> </span>I started by tearing out the patio bricks in the back and exposing about 150 square feet of sand beneath them.<span> </span>At that point, Sam and Olivia discovered that through the miracle of hydration, they could, through the simple act of adding water, create a wet, soupy sand bog that resembled the Fire Swamps in the Princess Bride (Rodents of unusual size??? I don't think they exist).<span> </span>Anyhow, so from there, I recall piling all the laundry from four large and separate piles, into one predominate and quite tidy single pile in the corner of our bedroom.<span> </span>I had, at that point, every intention of returning to fold, at the very least, the towels, and, time permitting, me own undies should I get the hankerin'.</font></div><div id="yiv48094338yui_3_7_2_18_1364934249938_35"> <font face="Calibri">Well, at that point, I saw somethin' shiny, and realizing that my daughter would have no means for which to enter the abode in a wheel chair, commenced to fabricating, with the help of my father, an eight-foot long ramp, complete with side rails and safety precautions which would last well into the next month of projected wheel chair use.<span> </span>Well, it's a lot more difficult to build a ramp using skill saws and power tools while fending off 1.5 year old sons, and 3.8 year old daughters whom aren't in the very least interested in reruns of Diego, Bo on the Go, or any other beta wave producing drivel.<span> </span>NOPE, these kids wanna help.<span> </span>Even better I say, they're learning a trade at a young age.<span> </span>Well, nigh on a couple hours later, with ramp complete, Dad got smart and left and I was again left to my own devices.</font></div><div id="yiv48094338yui_3_7_2_18_1364934249938_35"> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" id="yiv48094338yui_3_7_2_18_1364934249938_63" class="yiv48094338MsoNormal"><span><font face="Calibri"> </font></span><font face="Calibri">Eyeing that nefarious pile of laundry again, I resolved to return later and approach it from the flank, and instead focus our cumulative efforts towards straightening the kitchen, family room, front room, stairs, and other areas of visibility in preparation for the impending mercy and fellowship of the neighborhood ladies whom were about to descend (much like angels of mercy) and alight on our home with baked beans, egg salad, some rolls, bbq pulled pork, chicken salad and other tender delights and treasures which Pinterest had inspired and proven worthy of their efforts.<span> </span>So, the grub arrived, and I downed at least my apportioned poundage of culinary delights and then, quite by force, encouraged everyone over the age of eight to THANKFULLY partake so as to not offend the Sisters of Hope and Mercy whom might even have stopped by with no-bake cookies had I left a bit larger hint at their original departing. Oh, some time that day I planted some flowers and some bulbs.<span> </span>I have no idea what the bulbs were, only that the pictures were purdy and I was willing to do whatever it takes to stay out of the house as long as possible.</font></div><div id="yiv48094338yui_3_7_2_18_1364934249938_35"> <font id="yiv48094338yui_3_7_2_18_1364934249938_88" face="Calibri">Anyhow, so that evening we went about our duties of combing our faces and washing our hair and got everyone into their Underoos and ready for bed, just shy of the midwatch.<span> </span>So, the next morning Stacey and Alexia were slated to return, and my Mother in Law (Shane) arrived at the appointed time and took the reins while I went to fetch a peck of pickled peppers up to the hospital. </font></div><div id="yiv48094338yui_3_7_2_18_1364934249938_35"> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="yiv48094338MsoNormal"><font id="yiv48094338yui_3_7_2_18_1364934249938_90" face="Calibri">So I skipped on up there and parked and signed all the forms and releases and…well, mostly carried the four large (and quite heavy) bags which had asexually reproduced, doubling each night they were away.<span> </span>Well, we got everyone into the car and with the arrangement of two car seats and a little shuffling we were able to shoe-horn most everyone back into the Pilot and get for gettin'.</font></div><div id="yiv48094338yui_3_7_2_18_1364934249938_35"> <font face="Calibri">Well, that evening we figured out some design flaws in the current ramp structure, as well as some of the inherent challenges as to keeping four of your OTHER children off of the crutches, and out of the wheel chair which you'd rented.<span> </span>Oh, actually, truth be told, the wheel chair didn't arrive till Saturday.<span> </span>I was alone (again, quite unafraid) and the door bell rang while I was upstairs showering the two littlest makers of sandy mud products.<span> </span>So, I run down stairs, and allow, "Trent" our friendly neighborhood wheelchair rental guy, access to Ft McKenworthy.<span> </span>So I apologize that I have two kids up in the shower, one wife AWOL at the grocery, one son whom (thankfully) disappeared to a friend's, and another bedridden little lass on the couch watching King of Kings of Kings of Dumb Dumbs or whatever the hell that show is.<span> </span>Anyhow, pre-teen comedy is MIND numbing stuff I tell you.</font></div><div id="yiv48094338yui_3_7_2_18_1364934249938_35"> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="yiv48094338MsoNormal"><font face="Calibri">Anyhow, so Trent comes in and starts giving me the entire schpeel on the ins and various outs of your finer rental wheelchairs.<span> </span>I excuse myself while he's adjusting the legs and go retrieve the devil spawn up in the shower.<span> </span>I'm getting them dressed as quickly as possible, and succeeded only in a diaper for Hammy and the, "wrong" pajama bottoms for O-Liv-i-A.<span> </span>Anyhow so I go down stairs, apologize to Trent for him being late by two hours and my two littlest kids commence to running literally circles around us as we talk.<span> </span>By now my blood pressure is quite elevated, and all my attempts to speed ol', One Speed Trenton along prove completely fruitless.<span> </span>Well about this time Isabelle shows up (with her new glasses by the way) (VERY studious looking if I do say so ma-self), well Isabelle is now messing with the crutches, Hamsome and Olivia are running circles around us, Trenton is looking me in the eye expecting complete and udder focus, Josh is texting me about a lay-over in Dallas, or with Dallas, or Oliver or whatever…the crutches take flight with Isabelle and WHERE in THE HELLLLLLLLLLL is STACEY?!?!?!</font></div><div id="yiv48094338yui_3_7_2_18_1364934249938_35"> <font id="yiv48094338yui_3_7_2_18_1364934249938_70" face="Calibri">Well I sorta blacked out at that point and I remember thanking Trent for the hour-long class on Wheels on the Bus and the various and sundry complexities of the Round and Round.<span> </span>So, at that point, Josh arrives, and the continually unheeded recommendations to, "Stay away from her crutches, and get OFF the wheelchair" starts. </font></div><div id="yiv48094338yui_3_7_2_18_1364934249938_35"> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" id="yiv48094338yui_3_7_2_18_1364934249938_79" class="yiv48094338MsoNormal"><font id="yiv48094338yui_3_7_2_18_1364934249938_74" face="Calibri">Well I gotta be honest with you, somewhere in all the middle of that we had three Easters. Yeah, one at her mom's at 11 am, one at my mom's at 3 pm, one Sunday morning before three laborious hours of spiritual uplift in complete contrast with the two-day sugar rush our five nearly mobile children were enjoying.</font></div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="yiv48094338MsoNormal"><font face="Calibri">*sigh* *slow exhale* I love work.<span> </span>No seriously, I LOVE being at work.<span> </span>It's so….relaxing.</font></div><div id="yiv48094338yui_3_7_2_18_1364934249938_35"> <font face="Calibri">Well hey, speaking of work, I gotta get to it.<span> </span>You have yourself a completely awesome day/week/whatever until we have time to reason together again.</font></div><div id="yiv48094338yui_3_7_2_18_1364934249938_35"> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" id="yiv48094338yui_3_7_2_18_1364934249938_81" class="yiv48094338MsoNormal"><font id="yiv48094338yui_3_7_2_18_1364934249938_83" face="Calibri"> </font><font id="yiv48094338yui_3_7_2_18_1364934249938_85" face="Calibri">All the Best-Meow,</font></div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" id="yiv48094338yui_3_7_2_18_1364934249938_86" class="yiv48094338MsoNormal"><font face="Calibri"></font> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" id="yiv48094338yui_3_7_2_18_1364934249938_87" class="yiv48094338MsoNormal"><font id="yiv48094338yui_3_7_2_18_1364934249938_92" face="Calibri">J</font></div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" id="yiv48094338yui_3_7_2_18_1364934249938_93" class="yiv48094338MsoNormal"> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" id="yiv48094338yui_3_7_2_18_1364934249938_93" class="yiv48094338MsoNormal"> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" id="yiv48094338yui_3_7_2_18_1364934249938_93" class="yiv48094338MsoNormal"> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="yiv48094338MsoNormal"><span><font face="Calibri"> </font></span></div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" id="yiv48094338yui_3_7_2_18_1364934249938_93" class="yiv48094338MsoNormal"> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" 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class="yiv48094338MsoNormal"><span><font face="Calibri"> </font></span></div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" id="yiv48094338yui_3_7_2_18_1364934249938_93" class="yiv48094338MsoNormal"> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" id="yiv48094338yui_3_7_2_18_1364934249938_93" class="yiv48094338MsoNormal"> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="yiv48094338MsoNormal"><span><font face="Calibri"> </font></span></div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" id="yiv48094338yui_3_7_2_18_1364934249938_93" class="yiv48094338MsoNormal"> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="yiv48094338MsoNormal"><span><font face="Calibri"> </font></span></div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" id="yiv48094338yui_3_7_2_18_1364934249938_93" class="yiv48094338MsoNormal"> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" id="yiv48094338yui_3_7_2_18_1364934249938_93" class="yiv48094338MsoNormal"> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="yiv48094338MsoNormal"><font face="Calibri"> </font></div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" id="yiv48094338yui_3_7_2_18_1364934249938_93" class="yiv48094338MsoNormal"> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" id="yiv48094338yui_3_7_2_18_1364934249938_93" class="yiv48094338MsoNormal"> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="yiv48094338MsoNormal"><font face="Calibri"> </font></div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" id="yiv48094338yui_3_7_2_18_1364934249938_93" class="yiv48094338MsoNormal"> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" id="yiv48094338yui_3_7_2_18_1364934249938_126" class="yiv48094338MsoNormal"><font face="Calibri"></font> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" id="yiv48094338yui_3_7_2_18_1364934249938_93" class="yiv48094338MsoNormal"> </div><div id="yiv48094338yui_3_7_2_18_1364934249938_35"> </div></div></div></div></div>jonkenworthyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15189325469515955394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49107501677617107.post-60473082573145945642013-03-07T12:27:00.001-07:002013-03-07T12:27:52.878-07:00Stuff n' Other Things<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiz31fgRGC9J5ezsJOVwvlnUuwq_cSSJJEXieRse5RIYj4jlADqLtsVo1n1kWw1BUXcYooOUNJRwf5tnMj-ZBYdZ6DcXWWTsV6Tn4im8TujnVrd8zn-Pd5j1mxtl95kFa9QuO4tHrE-ug/s1600/drawsome-772879.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiz31fgRGC9J5ezsJOVwvlnUuwq_cSSJJEXieRse5RIYj4jlADqLtsVo1n1kWw1BUXcYooOUNJRwf5tnMj-ZBYdZ6DcXWWTsV6Tn4im8TujnVrd8zn-Pd5j1mxtl95kFa9QuO4tHrE-ug/s320/drawsome-772879.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5852685249099929218" /></a></p><p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikIGu6WJfZRj7-EuFi_mE4-_0RYaxSqHJhBq37I8VVW5N86XBHLx2_m67dqRFoTUoPncRFut_-nZiYsjt1kaDtQQeBGbjjSQhug2mSYujxucz5vIxL3yMRzQ4JTIVc2og9lmHNZnwKeEQ/s1600/drawsome2-774447.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikIGu6WJfZRj7-EuFi_mE4-_0RYaxSqHJhBq37I8VVW5N86XBHLx2_m67dqRFoTUoPncRFut_-nZiYsjt1kaDtQQeBGbjjSQhug2mSYujxucz5vIxL3yMRzQ4JTIVc2og9lmHNZnwKeEQ/s320/drawsome2-774447.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5852685252677282114" /></a></p><p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO8uD3-vMlRwHrae-oU5-HcgRmAvkZe6kbJSVLvlx67dHQN5gp_oxgQXAN9_2gk62JnNBHDGS089gkFsOw4eKRPkeFsvxE87v3pD8Pgkahz5K0TRil92rcC5-yyzHXQBVDvyjvOuY8hmU/s1600/drawsome3-775564.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO8uD3-vMlRwHrae-oU5-HcgRmAvkZe6kbJSVLvlx67dHQN5gp_oxgQXAN9_2gk62JnNBHDGS089gkFsOw4eKRPkeFsvxE87v3pD8Pgkahz5K0TRil92rcC5-yyzHXQBVDvyjvOuY8hmU/s320/drawsome3-775564.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5852685257967325698" /></a></p><p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjKA4FsM8k0Y9VWeydBGAq3qWf6Xp-TEtDVYlhs2mANi26gewUQnm1v0HUoyb8_XyVq86l1uQLzoelLAem6vnGaZR_XR9d-vjNJRZuR_qbOIiMfPAgNRd7rgR7WZCcCsD76SZOXk4Ms8E/s1600/drawsome4-776699.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjKA4FsM8k0Y9VWeydBGAq3qWf6Xp-TEtDVYlhs2mANi26gewUQnm1v0HUoyb8_XyVq86l1uQLzoelLAem6vnGaZR_XR9d-vjNJRZuR_qbOIiMfPAgNRd7rgR7WZCcCsD76SZOXk4Ms8E/s320/drawsome4-776699.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5852685260609253922" /></a></p><p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMZy6AiExyheZEH-hz2pZLv3YaU18xt2GN8GULRvcLLLQmgCARG3K88qzIQFvJo8tWSc5ZSApCHAD0lG-THP6CuFVPUaNcPiJE2rsZ8NSeVc0B4h5CoW1YjhO9m7WRM2EMI2UWxjB4qkE/s1600/drawsome5-778593.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMZy6AiExyheZEH-hz2pZLv3YaU18xt2GN8GULRvcLLLQmgCARG3K88qzIQFvJo8tWSc5ZSApCHAD0lG-THP6CuFVPUaNcPiJE2rsZ8NSeVc0B4h5CoW1YjhO9m7WRM2EMI2UWxjB4qkE/s320/drawsome5-778593.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5852685269399375202" /></a></p><div style="color:#000; background-color:#fff; font-family:times new roman, new york, times, serif;font-size:12pt"><div> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><font face="Calibri">So here we are, at the very cusp of Spring.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not a moment too soon either if you ask me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not that you did of course.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I'm ready I tell ya.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I'm so sick of being locked up in the house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I'm ready to get out. Heck, I'd even work on the flower beds, or better, pull down the Christmas lights before April if possible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I'm ready to clean the garage out too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I pulled down a couple of my boxes to get sleeping bags out for Josh and another scout. Son of a gun too, because I dropped by giant black job box on the garage floor off the upper shelf and broke it because it was so cold.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fatal flaw in the design it seems.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With this weather, I still haven't had an opportunity to wash the little car either.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I've simply not had a day off, or a moment to drive it through a wash cycle that I didn't know there were three days of forecasted inclement to dampen my resolve.</font></div><div> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><font face="Calibri">I miss the truck too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I guess that's a good segue as any.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Josh has said as much.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We put in for points only this year for my hunts and in questioning Josh about his hunting desires he point-blank asked me how we were even going to go hunting without a truck.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I've told myself we're going to pay a couple things off first then we'll delve into the mystical world of Crew Cabs and Extra Duties (he said, "duty") and see what we come up with.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Stacey's lease is up at that point so we either go Suburban Soccer Mom, or we swap out her car with another Honda product and get a truck.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>1<sup><font size="2">st</font></sup> World problems right???<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yeah, well anyhow, you probably know I met with the septic tank contractor a couple weeks ago.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He's supposed to dig a couple of test holes this week and let me in on the total cost of placing it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I told him to throw a tank in there that was rated for a 3 bedroom, two bath house/cabin, in the event we ever get there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anyhow, we met up there the other day (me driving my Pansy Mobile of course) and I showed him where I'd planned a cabin some day, and where I needed a cleanout or two for trailers in the interim.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He knows where the water line is, because he put it there, so I think we're good to go.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I'm going to call him today or tomorrow and see if we're any closer.</font></div><div> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><font face="Calibri">Anyhow, so there's that outlay of cash, and then we're paying off our waterline from last year and that brings our discretionary funds back to zero again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We're cash people as I may have said before, and anytime we ever finance anything we just do one thing at a time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That's where the truck vice suburban discussion has to take place. We'll war-game that a little until we come to a decision.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My plan is to just do some small capital improvements around the lot this year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Next year's discretionary has already been earmarked for new carpet and furniture/paint, so we'll have to remain status-quo for the remainder of 2013.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></font></div><div> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><font face="Calibri">Wow, 2013 huh? How time flies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I've got so much travel stacked up this year that I've just accepted we're on cruise-control until December again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Lexi goes in for her surgery in a couple weeks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In fact, the week after I get back from Fort Sill, OK she'll be in a wheel chair.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yeah, they're breaking her femur and twisting it 22 degrees and putting a giant rod and pin set in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then when it's healed, they'll pull the rod back out a few months later.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the interim, they'll leave a little metal set on the inside of her grown-plates at the knees to help her natural growth straighten everything back out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She's getting a little nervous I think, but she's putting on a brave face. So, she'll be in a wheel chair for a week or so, then crutches for a few weeks, then a brace and so on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Meanwhile, as I said, I'm headed off to Fort Sill, Onate Training Center New Mexico, and possibly to D.C. if everything goes well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>About a week at a time, with the exception of D.C., which I'm hoping will be two or three days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anyhow, that gets us into the heart of Summer, with means football, which means…play it on a loop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Stick a fork in it, yer dun.</font></div><div> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /><o:p><font face="Calibri"> </font></o:p></div><div> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><font face="Calibri">Oh, Isabelle and Olivia are doing soccer this year, in addition to dance and all the other stuff girls do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I haven't put in for any hunts, but I'm thinking I might as well just buy an elk muzzle loader tag and go in November after things slow down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Work is crazy busy preparing for major mitigations for the fire season.</font></div><div> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><font face="Calibri">Oh yeah, we're being courted by Unified Fire Authority, looking at contracting with a cattle association for our Cheat grass issue, we're spraying weeds (contrary to the Environmental Blockade's desires)….we're making progress on all fronts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The only thing we have to fear…well…is fear itself.</font></div><div> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><font face="Calibri">So, I've been interrupted about nineteen times now, so I'll just frigging close this little rant for a while.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Wish me luck, perhaps Stacey and I (kids???) can go up either for the day, or for an over-night tomorrow to the lot and sit in the trailer and freeze a little.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I'm watching the forecast and I'm just not sure it's going to allow for the planting of my two hundred (ish) walnuts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But, we'll give'r the ol' college try anyhow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh, last thing…I've been really enamored with this, "Draw Something" ap lately. I'll include a couple of my recent works a little later this weekend for shiz and giggles.</font></div><div> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><o:p><font face="Calibri"> </font></o:p></div><div> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><font face="Calibri">Anyhow, I gotta go.</font></div><div> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><font face="Calibri">Ya'll come back now ya heah?</font></div><div> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><o:p><font face="Calibri"> </font></o:p></div><div> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><font face="Calibri">J</font></div><div> <var id="yui-ie-cursor"></var></div></div>jonkenworthyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15189325469515955394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49107501677617107.post-26936029376569621692013-02-09T09:28:00.001-07:002013-02-09T09:28:43.859-07:00The Wonder Years<div style="color:#000; background-color:#fff; font-family:times new roman, new york, times, serif;font-size:12pt"><div> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><font face="Calibri">So, lately I've been working hard at the office.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We have a ton of stuff going on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Most of it is involving internal issues involving the planning and funding of future ranges and facilities.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Additionally we've enjoyed quite a shake-up in our full-time personnel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I'm trying to replace (this week anyhow) a Range Safety Officer, as well as shift personnel to cover the loss of a senior NCO authorization.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That's Army talk for, "we're experiencing cutbacks in personnel."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anyhow, I've been sort of at a loss as to what to write about of late.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not really feeling the inspirational charge to victory that occasionally washes over me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To be honest I've been sort of mellow, despite all the big-boy challenges that come along with being a husband, father, Soldier and friend.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Luckily, I've really cut back on my friends, so I don't have THEM continually slowing me down with all their offers to go to dinner and play Yahtzee, or Pictionary, or whatever couples of couples do these days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pretty much I wake up, workout, go to work, come home, do a sink of dishes, sweep the kitchen, empty the garbage's, pick up the front room, nag my son, administer food to them, clean up again, sweep up again, pack my gym bag, and repeat the process.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Don't get me wrong, I've had days where I've been totally upset about the whole treadmill going nowhere process, but in a way, I've found a little peace in it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It's just the way it is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I've also been extremely frustrated by finances, co-workers, and fellow commuters alike.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I guess what I mean to say is, I'm pretty selfish.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I'm ok with that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well, not really.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I'm really trying to work on my attitude.</font></div><div> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><font face="Calibri">Man its cold in my office.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have this little ceramic heater blowing right on me and still my fingers are numb.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don't like to be cold.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I seriously hate cold.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I'm not a giant fan of Iraqi Summer heat either, but cold sucks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Which reminds me, you can quit nagging now, I replaced the sheer pin on the snow blower, so it's ready to go if any of these next three major snow events come to bear.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anyhow, so I was saying…wait, I also want you to know, just 'cause, I'm down to drinking only one (ONE) 12 oz Diet Coke each day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I've really made a concerted effort to wean myself off of it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Believe it or not, I've been packing around one of those Maverik (yes, that's how they spell it) punch cards where the tenth one is free for over two months now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Used to be, that every two weeks or less, I'd have myself a "freeeeeee"52 oz Diet Luv, courtesy of the House.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anyhow, I've been religiously attending the yim, and I've even dabbled into a couple of new exercise regimens.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(You've gotta "shock" the glutes). <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anyhow there's this, "Ap" called, "Men's Health Workouts Lite" I've tried once a week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It's free and I highly recommend it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I've been doing the, "Spartacus" once a week in addition to the other stuff I got going.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I'll be honest with you, my arse hurts for two days after from the squats and lunges and other stuff involved in the highly intense sadism involved in their little workout.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I still hit the heavy bag on Tuesdays to fight off the demons, I still hit the weights, and am back to throwing in the cardio on Fridays.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>OK, all very boring stuff.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Point is, across the spectrum I'm seriously trying to improve my station in life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I've even started reading my scriptures (while in dispose) at 04:20 in the morning mind you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></font></div><div> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><font face="Calibri">Yeah, you heard me right.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I've even been reading my scriptures.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I won't go into it here, but suffice it to say, it's really made a difference in my level of patience with the kids.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Instead of flipping out on them the moment I walk in the door, I often can last upwards of five, sometimes seven minutes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know, by volume not a lot, but by percentage? Yeah, I'm making THAT kind of progress.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>*sniff* </font></div><div> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /><o:p><font face="Calibri"> </font></o:p></div><div> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><font face="Calibri">So what else?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh yeah, filed the taxes and true to form, we're going to break even this year again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well, not exactly, we're going to pay off our little loan we had last year for the water at the lot, then we're going to pay off a credit card, and pretty much….start right back at zero again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It's frustrating I tell you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just can't make sense of the math.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No matter how you slice it, I ALWAYS break even.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I guess I should say, "We". Stacey and I that is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Stuff just comes up you know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have all these selfish designs on a shed for the lot, or a new generator, or a 600 watt solar array kit (eBay $1275.00 no shipping!).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every day I trip over the carpet that's separating from the linoleum (yeah, that's how we roll) (insert, "I wanna be a Rock Star"-Nickleback).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I already told you about the freezer incident last quarter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So I sold Big Green and went to a little economical rice burner Honda product as you know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I figured just in gas I am $300 bucks ahead each month.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We're using the, "Cash for Lunch" program and I only eat out once (maybe twice) a week at ten bucks a pop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We refinanced le casa and saved 197.00 a month.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All this and we're STILL breaking even.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It's incredible I tell you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Like all couples should, we sit down and pour over the budget, and while we're not eating beans every meal, there's just not a lot left at the end of the pay period.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></font></div><div> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><font face="Calibri">I think my personal frustration is that I can't understand how having 500 bucks more each month doesn't naturally equate to available funding streams for stuff I wanna do. (Told you I was selfish).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I look at our house, and I really want to get Stacey a new couch, new carpet, new chair in the front room, etc.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I really do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I've even accepted that not all extra money can go to the lot in the form of facilities or maintenance. But if we budget for Christmas, Football, Dance, Soccer, Birthdays, Trips, (Clothing???)…well there's just nothing left over for upgrades.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It's supremely annoying, and I have to keep telling myself that we're doing the right thing using the pay-as-you-go method.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As I told you, I don't have a lot of patience, but more importantly, it makes me feel as though I'm doing something wrong as a husband or provider.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know what I make, and to be honest, I wonder how all my neighbors are doing it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just keep telling myself that there's wisdom and peace in not being subje<var id="yui-ie-cursor"></var>ct to debt.</font></div><div> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><font face="Calibri">Wow, that took a real turn for the negative.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Point is, I'm just starting to mature enough to accept that, "This is why we can't have nice things" applies to us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I mean really, if I replaced a couch, and got new carpet, within six hours, there's be a puddle of chocolate milk, crushed up goldfish crackers, an assembly of Barbie clothing, and a whole slug of other undeterminable stuffed down between the cushions and ground into the carpet anyhow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I keep telling myself that ten short years from now we can finally have nice things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I'm being serious; I really am ok with it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just in the past couple weeks I've really stopped fighting it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Kids are kids. They cost money.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We have a TON of them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Let's be honest, nothing of substance or value is really tied to anything tangible, it's really about their personal growth.</font></div><div> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><font face="Calibri">I think what helps me realize that, is trying to keep an Eternal perspective on things. Which, I'll tell you, I'm not good at.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It's tough for me. I don't naturally gravitate towards their eternal potential when I'm bearing down on a 12 year old boy who's moping around because he has a D in keyboarding and we took away his Xbox and his IPod.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I lecture the crap out of him, laying on that thick Catholic Guilt my mother taught me in my youth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Son", I say, "I'd REALLY love to replace that broken screen on your $200 IPod, but I just don't have time to take you because I'm following you around closing cupboards, turning off lights, fixing things, putting bikes away, and now, nagging you for the past two hours to finish a single page of math."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pretty much I have that on a loop so I can play it back at will.</font></div><div> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><font face="Calibri">OK, finally the good news.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, we watched, as a family (on The Netflix) last night a couple episodes of, "The Wonder Years."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You may not be old enough (or young enough) to remember it, but it's a series written from the perspective of a 13 year old boy, played by Fred Savage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anyhow, we all really laughed, and laughed a lot, at the commonalities displayed in the show.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think it gave us all an opportunity to pause and realize…we're normal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No, really, we're normal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The dad was griping about the cost of an alternator for the family trickster, the mom was settling the kids down, the dad is grumpy, but loves his kids and just wants opportunity to teach them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It's really a well done show, and now that it's 20 plus years old, and I'm looking at it from the parents' perspective, it's taken on a whole new meaning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, going further, last night, Kevin, the protagonist, was having difficulty with math.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was afraid to ask for help, and was really laying it on thick.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Without recounting the whole story, suffice it to say, Josh and I quietly sat there and with knowing looks, when back in forth laughing at ourselves.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Me, laughing at the dad who flies off the handle about the older brother driving the car into the cornfield, and him, recognizing himself in a young boy faced with scholastic requirements that cause him to stretch further and further outside of his comfort zone.</font></div><div> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><font face="Calibri">Anyhow, I just want you to know that things aren't so bleak.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I guess we all learn something along the way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We all have similar frustrations with kids, and relationships, money, work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You're no different I guess, and neither am I.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anyhow, I just wanted to share that with you and hopefully, here at the end, you can have yourself a wonderful day despite whatever family activity you haven't planned but are attending anyhow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In parting, if I've offended you, or you me, there's no hard feelings.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We're all just trying to do the best we can.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Someday we'll look back at this, in the light of Super Eight film strip, and see that we're just repeating the cycle, learning what mom and dad already know, and what someday, we'll be able to sit quietly at our children's' dinner table, watching the malaise, and in our heart know they'll someday recognize as well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></font></div><div> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><o:p><font face="Calibri"> </font></o:p></div><div> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><font face="Calibri">All the best meow,</font></div><div> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><o:p><font face="Calibri"> </font></o:p></div><div> </div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><font face="Calibri">J</font></div><div> </div></div>jonkenworthyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15189325469515955394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49107501677617107.post-61856685049960918972013-01-13T08:17:00.001-07:002013-01-13T08:19:42.212-07:00Good, Better, and the Best<div style="color:#000; background-color:#fff; font-family:times new roman, new york, times, serif;font-size:12pt"><div style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class=MsoNormal><SPAN class=line1><SPAN style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Arial','sans-serif'; COLOR: #444444; FONT-SIZE: 8.5pt; mso-ansi-language: EN" lang=EN>"Walking along beneath the lights of that miracle mile</SPAN><FONT face=Calibri>,</FONT></SPAN></SPAN><SPAN style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Arial','sans-serif'; COLOR: #444444; FONT-SIZE: 8.5pt; mso-ansi-language: EN" lang=EN> <SPAN class=line1> <META content="Me and Mary making our way into the night" itemprop="line"><SPAN style="MozBorderRadiusTopright: 8px; MozBorderRadiusTopleft: 8px; WebkitBorderRadiusTopleft: 8px" id=line_2 jQuery17108475014410646824="53">Me and Mary making our way into the night</SPAN></SPAN> <?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /><o:p></o:p></SPAN> <META content="You can hear the cries from the carnival rides" itemprop="line"></div><SPAN style="MozBorderRadiusTopright: 8px; MozBorderRadiusTopleft: 8px; WebkitBorderRadiusTopleft: 8px" id=line_3 jQuery17108475014410646824="54"> <div style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class=MsoNormal><SPAN class=line1><SPAN style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Arial','sans-serif'; COLOR: #444444; FONT-SIZE: 8.5pt; mso-ansi-language: EN" lang=EN>You can hear the cries from the carnival rides</SPAN></SPAN></SPAN><SPAN style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Arial','sans-serif'; COLOR: #444444; FONT-SIZE: 8.5pt; mso-ansi-language: EN" lang=EN> <SPAN class=line1> <META content="The pin-ball bells and the ski-ball slides" itemprop="line"><SPAN style="MozBorderRadiusTopright: 8px; MozBorderRadiusTopleft: 8px; WebkitBorderRadiusTopleft: 8px; MozBorderRadiusBottomright: 8px; MwebkitBorderRadiusBottomright: 8px; MozBorderRadiusBottomleft: 8px; WebkitBorderRadiusBottomleft: 8px" id=line_4 jQuery17108475014410646824="55">The pin-ball bells and the ski-ball slides</SPAN></SPAN> <o:p></o:p></SPAN> <META content="Watching the summer sun fall out of sight" itemprop="line"></div><SPAN style="MozBorderRadiusTopright: 8px; MozBorderRadiusTopleft: 8px; WebkitBorderRadiusTopleft: 8px; MozBorderRadiusBottomright: 8px; MwebkitBorderRadiusBottomright: 8px; MozBorderRadiusBottomleft: 8px; WebkitBorderRadiusBottomleft: 8px" id=line_5 jQuery17108475014410646824="56"> <div style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class=MsoNormal><SPAN class=line1><SPAN style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Arial','sans-serif'; COLOR: #444444; FONT-SIZE: 8.5pt; mso-ansi-language: EN" lang=EN>Watching the summer sun fall out of sight</SPAN></SPAN></SPAN><SPAN style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Arial','sans-serif'; COLOR: #444444; FONT-SIZE: 8.5pt; mso-ansi-language: EN" lang=EN> <o:p></o:p></SPAN><SPAN style="MozBorderRadiusTopright: 8px; MozBorderRadiusTopleft: 8px; WebkitBorderRadiusTopleft: 8px; MozBorderRadiusBottomright: 8px; MwebkitBorderRadiusBottomright: 8px; MozBorderRadiusBottomleft: 8px; WebkitBorderRadiusBottomleft: 8px" id=line_6 jQuery17108475014410646824="57"></div> <div style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class=MsoNormal><SPAN class=line1><SPAN style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Arial','sans-serif'; COLOR: #444444; FONT-SIZE: 8.5pt; mso-ansi-language: EN" lang=EN>There's a warm wind coming in from off of the ocean</SPAN></SPAN></SPAN><SPAN style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Arial','sans-serif'; COLOR: #444444; FONT-SIZE: 8.5pt; mso-ansi-language: EN" lang=EN> <SPAN class=line1><SPAN style="MozBorderRadiusTopright: 8px; MozBorderRadiusTopleft: 8px; WebkitBorderRadiusTopleft: 8px; MozBorderRadiusBottomright: 8px; MwebkitBorderRadiusBottomright: 8px; MozBorderRadiusBottomleft: 8px; WebkitBorderRadiusBottomleft: 8px" id=line_7 jQuery17108475014410646824="58">Making its way past the hotel walls to fill the street</SPAN></SPAN> <SPAN class=line1><SPAN style="MozBorderRadiusTopright: 8px; MozBorderRadiusTopleft: 8px; WebkitBorderRadiusTopleft: 8px; MozBorderRadiusBottomright: 8px; MwebkitBorderRadiusBottomright: 8px; MozBorderRadiusBottomleft: 8px; WebkitBorderRadiusBottomleft: 8px" id=line_8 jQuery17108475014410646824="59">Mary is holding both of her shoes in her hand</SPAN></SPAN> <o:p></o:p></SPAN><SPAN style="MozBorderRadiusTopright: 8px; MozBorderRadiusTopleft: 8px; WebkitBorderRadiusTopleft: 8px; MozBorderRadiusBottomright: 8px; MwebkitBorderRadiusBottomright: 8px; MozBorderRadiusBottomleft: 8px; WebkitBorderRadiusBottomleft: 8px" id=line_9 jQuery17108475014410646824="60"></div> <div style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class=MsoNormal><SPAN class=line1><SPAN style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Arial','sans-serif'; COLOR: #444444; FONT-SIZE: 8.5pt; mso-ansi-language: EN" lang=EN>Said she likes to feel the sand beneath her feet</SPAN><FONT face=Calibri>"<o:p></o:p></FONT></SPAN></SPAN></div> <div style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class=MsoNormal><SPAN class=line1><SPAN style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Arial','sans-serif'; COLOR: #444444; FONT-SIZE: 8.5pt; mso-ansi-language: EN" lang=EN>Morning'.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>How are you?<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>Me, as you probably guessed, well I'm doin' fine.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>So this morning...wait, where are my manners? Please, have a seat.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>Can I get you something?<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>I had some Chicken Tikki Tikki Tempo Marsala that Stacey made the other day, but I just downed the last of the naan.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>It's freakin' delicious man.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>Anyhow, I've got soda, I've got some hardboiled eggs, three I think, or I have a couple apples that Hammy left bite marks in the other day.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>It's a Fuji.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>Anyhow, just help yourself, right there in the mini fridge.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></SPAN></div> <div style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class=MsoNormal><SPAN class=line1><SPAN style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Arial','sans-serif'; COLOR: #444444; FONT-SIZE: 8.5pt; mso-ansi-language: EN" lang=EN>Well, you're probably wondering why I opened with the Kenny Chesney lyrics this morning.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>It's Sunday of course, and here I am at Drill...just...drillin' stuff, oh and uh...*sniff* not in the GOOD way.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>No this is Army drill stuff.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>Basically it's a chance to do everything I do Monday through Thursday most weeks, but extend the work week by donating another three days to the cause.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>Hey don't feel bad for me though, as I've already alluded to in previous literary works, the remunerations and bennies are nothing to sneeze at, so you won't hear ME gripe.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>Lessin' of course I was back in a combat zone, then I just, "Embrace the Suck."<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>*sip...ahhhh*<o:p></o:p></SPAN></SPAN></div> <div style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class=MsoNormal><SPAN class=line1><SPAN style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Arial','sans-serif'; COLOR: #444444; FONT-SIZE: 8.5pt; mso-ansi-language: EN" lang=EN>Hey so there I was, cruising up (down if you consider South down and North up) Redwood Road this morning.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>Hoping my I.D. card was still stuck into my computer....WHICH...it was.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>So Laila was playin' this little ditty about someone's wife lovin' him like Jesus does..which sorta got me to thinking.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>Then, as I pulled into the gate, the aforementioned Chesney came on about the time I was committing to turn left into, Camp W.G. Williams.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>I gotta be honest with ya, I seriously contemplated just bypassing the turn and continuing on to see what came over the radio next.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>It's one of those contemplative, Sunday mornings that ol' Johnny Cash warned you about.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>Somehow I see myself watching a kid playin' with a can that he was kickin'.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>Oh and if you get none of these references, you may as well just politely excuse yourself, I'm not sure I can communicate outside of song lyrics, movie quotes, and double entendre' (what's the plural of, "double entendre'"?<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>Double(s) entendre'? I wonder if it's like, "Sergeants Major", anyhow not important).<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN><o:p></o:p></SPAN></SPAN></div> <div style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class=MsoNormal><SPAN class=line1><SPAN style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Arial','sans-serif'; COLOR: #444444; FONT-SIZE: 8.5pt; mso-ansi-language: EN" lang=EN>So of course I turned left, because duty calls.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>I listened to the lyrics of this little anthem to living in the moment, and it sorta got me to thinkin'...again.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>You know, I've got a lot of faults.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>No seriously, a LOT of faults.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>Well, take for example when I got back from Asscrackistan and was introduced to my new Ward (church) family.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>Nice lot of folks. <SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>There were some computer dorks, some mortgage bubbas, and an arssssssse load of real estate mini-moguls.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>Anyhow, here I was trying to fit back into polite society, and making what I thought was a fairly decent effort.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>So, early on in my cul-de-sac career, someone invites me up to this here Father and Son's (sons'???/ Fathers and son/ Fathers' and.....whatever) anyhow, boys and their daddies in the woods.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>So I get these here directions that say something to the effect of, "Take the Jeremy Ranch exit up Parley's canyon, hit your trip meter, go a spell, make a left, go a spell or a ¼ mile or three see's and then go three more see's and another swaggle and you're halfway there.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>Veer to the left (don't hit the deer) and you've arrived at, "Beaver Ridge....(get this...) GIRL'S Camp." And as I'm reading through these directions, I'm thinking, 'You're joking right? BEAVER ridge?<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>Someone picked that name for a GIRL'S camp??? Man I sure hope some of them turn 18 this weekend.' But of course I kept that all in the lock-box up stairs and just smiled and said I'd be there.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>Now that's just ONE example in a litany of naughtiness that I'm capable of.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>I don't even MEAN to be naughty.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>It's just automatically the first thing that comes to my mind.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>What's worse is that it's SO obvious, that I'm literally in a state of disbelief that I'm the only one smirking.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN><o:p></o:p></SPAN></SPAN></div> <div style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class=MsoNormal><SPAN class=line1><SPAN style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Arial','sans-serif'; COLOR: #444444; FONT-SIZE: 8.5pt; mso-ansi-language: EN" lang=EN>I gotta be honest with you, I got so involved in that little flash-back that I totally forgot what we were talking about, so I'll just start a new paragraph and we'll pretend it didn't happen ok?<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>So, ok, I remember where I was going with this now, so, as I was cruising up/down Redwood Road, I started thinking about the opportunities that life provides.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>Someone, the neighbor across the street one time I think paraphrased someone smarter than the 'tither of us when he said, "Good, Better, and Best.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>You would like to do the, 'Good', and sometimes life provides something, 'Better', but if you don't focus on the, 'Best' you'll lose your way and miss the greatest opportunities life has for you because you allowed yourself to be derailed by something that wasn't the best use of your time."<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>So, that's not a direct quote, but I put it into quotations anyhow, because I'm paraphrasing his paraphrasal of something a guy said once that may or may not have been a church leader type.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>So, it's kind of like Japanese tourists.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>When you develop the film, all you've got is a picture of a guy taking a picture, of a guy taking a picture of a guy taking a picture.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>Now (to blow your mind) if THAT guy, takes a picture of the original picture guy...well it sorta completes the circuit.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>It's a lot like the medicine cabinet in my mom's house.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>You can fold up the left side, fold up the right side, and stick your head in it, and see yourself around every corner.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>Man am I glad I don't do drugs.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>THIS is the kind of shiz that goes on behind the curtain folks.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>NEVERMIND the Man Behind the Curtain!<o:p></o:p></SPAN></SPAN></div> <div style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class=MsoNormal><SPAN class=line1><SPAN style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Arial','sans-serif'; COLOR: #444444; FONT-SIZE: 8.5pt; mso-ansi-language: EN" lang=EN>Where were we?<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>Yes, so I got thinking about life being like a bus, my bus of course is probably set in the 1960's where everyone on the bus was relatively clean and free of neck tattoo's and in sepia tone.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>Most of my made up movie shorts are in sepia tone by the way.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>Except maybe the one I dreamed up of being on a bullet bike doing 135 mph to Metallica's, Nothing Else Matters.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>Anyhow, some people dream about flying, I dream about dreaming.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>Whatever, dontchu judge me.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>So, I imagine on this bus, or maybe a train. In fact, let's make this train in the 1950's and let's make it the same train that Lois Lane was on when Superman (aka Clark Kent) was showing off for Lana Lang and sped to the intersection after BRAD was such a douche to him on the football field.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>So, Lois is cruising along and sees a vision (aka Super Clark) go past her window, and you see in the reflections simultaneously her then pre-teen face and him tearing' up the County Road and somehow not dusting up his white tenny-runners.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>Well that's sometimes how I think I feel about life.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>We're all traveling on this train, to a destination we have a loose idea about, watching out the window at opportunities flying by.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>Occasionally we get spiteful, angry, hurt, or some other emotion at all the things we COULD be.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>We say to ourselves, "I should be a doctor, I'm smart enough;" or "I should be an attorney, they make a lot of money"; or, "I wish I was a teacher, I wish I had influence and money wasn't that big of a deal to me."<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>Each one of these opportunities are advertised as fleeting and if we don't grab hold of them, we'll speed to the end of life and wish we had.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>I've felt like this a lot to be honest with you.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></SPAN></div> <div style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class=MsoNormal><SPAN class=line1><SPAN style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Arial','sans-serif'; COLOR: #444444; FONT-SIZE: 8.5pt; mso-ansi-language: EN" lang=EN>Lucky for me though, periodically I think God gives takes<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>a little pity on me and when I'm going the right direction throws in a warm feeling and a literal vision of some future event and what that's going to feel like when I get there.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>I think the last time it happened to me was in Fort Jackson, South Carolina a year or so ago.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>I was driving to the PX (Shopping Center on Post) and there were all these little troopies.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>BRAND new minted Soldiers, all in their Class A's with their parents.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>So proud of their one Basic Training Ribbon.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>All of them carrying a plastic shopping sack and sitting down to eat a slice of pizza with mom and dad whom came from Albany, or otherwise to see their little Johnny or Suzy graduate.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>So as I pulled around to park, soaking in all this familial bliss, I had a vision.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>It was Stacey and I right back here in six years.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>Josh was graduating Basic Training and I was in my dress blues, as a Lieutenant Colonel.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>It was so real, so vibrant a day dream that I knew it would come to fruition.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>My point is, I think the Lord gives me these little snippets to keep me on track.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>I'm a guy who needs to know where we're going before I set out.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>At least one of the four cardinal directions would be of help.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>But sometimes, I find myself on this train, looking out that sepia tone window, (all the women are wearing white gloves and red dresses with white polka dots too mind you.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>Nothing like a gal that's every part the lady during the day, and every part the ...sorry, I got lost again....point is, if I focus too long on the opportunities speeding by, I get lost.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></SPAN></div> <div style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class=MsoNormal><SPAN class=line1><SPAN style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Arial','sans-serif'; COLOR: #444444; FONT-SIZE: 8.5pt; mso-ansi-language: EN" lang=EN>So, today I had the opportunity to turn around and head back home and call in sick.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>Something I NEVER do unless I'm actually sick.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>I had the opportunity to drive all the way to Arizona to some place warmer and turn my back on<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>all the responsibility, the heartache, the sleepless nights, and, unfortunately, all the happiness at the last ½ hour in our 24 hours of challenge day. But, like the song that started this whole line of thinking, "in the morning I'm leavin' making my way back to Cleveland".<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>Cleveland in this case is representative of our cumulative responsibilities.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>It's indicative of who we have to be to accomplish the things that we need to.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>Cleveland is that mystical land at the end of the tracks which is laid out for us.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>Our job, is to watch some of the opportunities out the window and try not to lose focus.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>Now, if you look at the implied meaning of, "Cleveland" well, how does that compare to walking on the sand barefoot, and listening to a band in someplace warmer?<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>Well, it doesn't.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>And if you're REALLY paying attention, you realize that ol' Kenny is aware of that, but he's also aware, that this temporary segue goes nowhere.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>That this ISNT his life. This ISNT his purpose.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>He doesn't exactly know why Cleveland holds his life, but what he DOES know is that this fleeting moment, as impressive a detour as it is, really isn't what's BEST for him.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>And that's the real challenge isn't it? Staying focused long enough to see our way through to our destination.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>All along, as we drift off looking through that sepia haze, once in a while, we see ourselves.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>We're sitting on a folding chair, a little older, a little wiser, watching the fruits of our labor marching on a parade field, standing straighter and taller than he ever has before.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>Finally become the man that his mother and father hoped for.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>I'm guessing that no matter how good it felt to walk along watching the summer sun fall out of site, it can't possibly hold a candle to watching a son embark on a life of goodness, potentially greatness.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>It that temporary segue that derails us, it can't wash over us, become us, define us, with the, "Better" because life is so very tenuous and fleeting, we really truly only have time for the, "Best."<o:p></o:p></SPAN></SPAN></div> <div style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class=MsoNormal><SPAN class=line1><SPAN style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Arial','sans-serif'; COLOR: #444444; FONT-SIZE: 8.5pt; mso-ansi-language: EN" lang=EN>Hey listen, I gotta skedaddle. I've got stuff going on and now that the sun's up I may as well make a day of it. You have a wonderful day and I'll see you next time we get the chance.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>Meanwhile, do Good things. Try and be a little, Better.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>Before you know it, you'll be enjoying life's Best.<o:p></o:p></SPAN></SPAN></div> <div style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class=MsoNormal><SPAN class=line1><SPAN style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Arial','sans-serif'; COLOR: #444444; FONT-SIZE: 8.5pt; mso-ansi-language: EN" lang=EN><o:p> </o:p></SPAN></SPAN></div> <div style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class=MsoNormal><SPAN class=line1><SPAN style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Arial','sans-serif'; COLOR: #444444; FONT-SIZE: 8.5pt; mso-ansi-language: EN" lang=EN>Have a great Army Day,<o:p></o:p></SPAN></SPAN></div> <div style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class=MsoNormal><SPAN class=line1><SPAN style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Arial','sans-serif'; COLOR: #444444; FONT-SIZE: 8.5pt; mso-ansi-language: EN" lang=EN><o:p> </o:p></SPAN></SPAN></div> <div style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class=MsoNormal><SPAN class=line1><SPAN style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Arial','sans-serif'; COLOR: #444444; FONT-SIZE: 8.5pt; mso-ansi-language: EN" lang=EN>J</SPAN></SPAN><SPAN style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Arial','sans-serif'; COLOR: #444444; FONT-SIZE: 8.5pt; mso-ansi-language: EN" lang=EN><o:p></o:p></SPAN></div> <div style="RIGHT: auto"><VAR id=yui-ie-cursor></VAR> </div></div>jonkenworthyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15189325469515955394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49107501677617107.post-23805556094862919652013-01-01T08:53:00.003-07:002013-01-01T08:53:25.640-07:00Happy New Year 2013Hey guys. Yeah, it's me again Margaret. What are you wearin'? Seriously if you get that joke you're over forty, or boring, or both. But you're in good company. So how've you been? It's been a while since I had a moment to sit down and sketch something out. Busy busy right? So, I just got back from le yim, wherein I did my very first workout of the New Year. Which, since I was up so bright and early, and I figured in about a half hour the whole world would come unglued, I figured I'd better jot some things down before time got away from us again.<br />
<br />
So here goes. Well, first off, let me just put in a disclaimer. About that workout I just alluded to. I just want you to know this isnt another one of those flash-in-the-pan ideas of mine. I've been working out pretty regularly for....well a while now. But I've endeavored to be a little more responsible with my lunch money and goofing off throughout the week. Which, sorta led to, how can we be more careful with our money, which led to some life decisions, which led to eating more healthy...really, it's a circle of sorts. I can sketch it out for you, but just take, The Circle of Life, and switch out, "Death" and, "Taxes" for, "Gas $", and "Dog Poop". <br />
<br />
I should esplain. So, you may have heard we found a new home for Maggie. Broke my heart because I loved that dog, but every day I'd come home and she'd be out of water, the back yard would reek of dog-squeeze (huge piles of it too), the dog would come into the house to clean the floor after dinner, and go right back out again, then get relegated to the basement for the night. Repeat this about 364 days a year for the past....well for a while now. So, backing up even further (interesting choice of words), someone ran over the cat a couple months ago, and I had to put it down (with the .22 cal Euthenasia Kit). This was of course AFTER the cat whizzed all over my ATV cover, the giant Love Sac bean bag, and I think on my stuff in the garage. Anyhow, I wasnt all heart broken over that opportunity to be honest with ya. So, then I sold the ATV (not because of the urine mind you) and garnered a whopping six hundred bones, which, a day later I had to hand back to Home Depot for an upright freezer after our chest freezer crapped out on us two days after loading it full of my elk, and half of Brandon's elk. Wait, are we going forward or backward? I feel like Chevy Chase's character on Funny Farm writing about the perfect heist with poker buddies knocking over a casino....<br />
<br />
Anyhow, so moving forward, with a new paragraph anyhow, I sold Big Green, and I landed myself a genuine Honda product for-to-which ta drive to work. I've been very pleased with both Honda Pilots that Stacey's had, and so, foregoing all the bells and whistles (I'm cheap) I snagged myself a power-window, power lock, 40 mph Goober Mobile. But the goodnews, is that at the end of the lease, should we decide to buy it outright, Josh will be driving, so I may as well let him and his siblings scratch the side of it up the next three years with their bikes. Plus, looking at the thing, that back seat is awefully cramped, and barring him dating a Chinese Gymnast, it should be fairly ok to let him take on dates and what-not. More of the, "not" and less of the, "What" mind you. So, Big Green went the way of the buffalo, and along with it, any hope I ever had of retaining my masculinity I suppose. Well until Spring. I am still not sold on this Ford Excursion idea Stacey is cooking up, I think I'll finagle a way to replace the pickup with our taxes now that that whole pesky Fiscal Cliff thing has been put to bed. Thank GOODNESS I'm not a top 2 percenter, THAT would suck!<br />
<br />
Where were we? Uh, anyhow, so, just plugging along. Making plans, I'm going to call the septic tank guy here in a couple of weeks and get on the docket for putting that at the lot this Spring, then I'm going to try and bulldog the money I'm not spending on gas anymore away from Stacey and put a bunk house (aka "shed" if the County is askin') up there as well. Maybe a nice concrete pad, bed bath and beyond...anyhow, we've carved ourselves out a pretty good couple of Saturdays.<br />
<br />
So, meanwhile, we wait. I've been reading my scriptures, I've been sayin' my prayers, doing my Home Teaching, paying tithing, all the stuff you read about in the manuals and life's still just as challenging as it ever was. I think what I want to work on this year, (and this is NOT a resolution) is patience. I just plain SUCK at patience. Patience with my kids, patience with my spouse, patience at work...all of it. I find sometimes I just plain go bonkers at home over things that are astounding that we're covering again for the 800th time again. But I guess that's the Refiner's Fire I've heard so much about. I'd like to be kind, like my Grandpa. I'd like to feel like I have my good name again in the community. I'd like to be someone people can rely on to do the right thing no matter what the personal cost, perceived or actual. I'd like to have balance. I'd like to learn to be thankful for what I have, and not upset that I don't have what I should have until I have it. (read that two or three times to make sure it makes sense). I'd like to be honest in all things. I've tried, and it plain sucks sometimes. I'd like to not to judge people so harshly when the little B.S. Tachometer gets close to redlining. I almost gave you an example which would, ironically, undo what I'm trying to do. Anyhow, I'd like to be more thoughtful, more caring, more patient, more Christlike. But believe me, I have a LONG way to go. A LONG LONG way to go.<br />
<br />
Anyhow kids, I better button this up and climb in the shower. It's going to be one of those at-home family patience building Federal Holiday days again. If I dont see you around, I'll see you, and if I do, I see you there too.<br />
<br />
Anyhow, all the best to you and yours, warmest regards, and a pinch on the heiney 'cause I ain't fixed quite yet.<br />
<br />
XxOo, xOOoXXO,<br />
<br />
<br />
Jjonkenworthyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15189325469515955394noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49107501677617107.post-66323040144314411272012-12-01T15:11:00.000-07:002012-12-01T15:12:50.622-07:00Crazy Nelli's Deli and Other Items of Import (UNCLASSIFIED)Classification: UNCLASSIFIED
<br>Caveats: FOUO
<br>
<br>OK, where were we? Ah yes, you were there and I was here. Sit down will ya?
<br>Let's see now, okay, so a few weeks ago my dad and I took Josh on his first
<br>big game hunt as a bona fide carrier of a rifle for the elusive and ever
<br>(less than) tasty Mule Deer. This particular hunt starts on or about the 3rd
<br>weekend in October and has been a staple in our family for generations.
<br>Throughout the years it's been pared down from a statewide holiday, to more
<br>of an afterthought for your more flannel clad neighbors. See, the deer hunt
<br>used to have an element of neighborhood pride. Now, with all the changes to
<br>the hunting proclamation and the various and sundry intricacies involved in
<br>applying for, and drawing the various tags, it's really become a giant pain
<br>in the ass to be honest.
<br>Hold on, let me explain. So, when I started hunting, you could buy a tag
<br>over the counter, for the low-low cost of $15. It was known as a, "Big Game
<br>License." So you had to buy your big game license, and then you could
<br>potentially buy a bow permit, or a muzzle loader permit, or any number of
<br>other add-ons to extend your hunt. So, from there, the State of Utah in
<br>their finite wisdom, realized that they were harvesting too many deer. So
<br>they stopped selling the tags over the counter, and went to a draw system.
<br>Only, they didn't really limit the number of tags per se, and just kept on
<br>rakin' in the revenue and then depositing it into the State General Fund for
<br>later appropriations back to the Division of Wildlife Resources. So, the
<br>State of Utah had a vested interest in selling more tags than we could
<br>support and really had a limited view on what the long-term results of those
<br>policies would be.
<br>Well, from there, the Division decided they'd start selling me tags in about
<br>seven different regions, and only a certain number of tags would be sold in a
<br>given region. But, alas, they over-sold those family favorites again.
<br>Somewhere along the way, they decided I couldn't hunt all three seasons
<br>unless I became a, "Designated Hunter" and donated a certain number of
<br>man-hours towards trail management and other worthwhile DWR goals. Anyhow,
<br>about that time I started pumping out children and realized I'd just have to
<br>choose which deer hunt I'd go on and then maybe hunt for elk for a second
<br>outing.Well, over the course of the past 25 years since I began, we've
<br>lowered the hunting age to 14, then to 12, and incorporated every scheme
<br>including, "three point buck or better" as well as a slew of other programs
<br>which somehow encourage the hunting legacy, but make it harder and harder to
<br>actually see a buck to shoot at. So, I pretty much gave up deer hunting
<br>about four years ago and just this year decided to put in for a tag to take
<br>my son out and give 'er a whirl.
<br>
<br>So, we put in for our favorite top three choices for hunting, one of which
<br>was the "19C Tintic Range" hunting unit. It's basically a little north of
<br>Eureka, Utah, down I-15 to Nephi, over to the Sand Dunes and back up to
<br>nowhere. Anyhow, a few years back, (10 maybe?) we saw a deer out there, so
<br>we figured we'd try her out. So I pretty much strong-armed Josh into missing
<br>his football game in order to attend this most auspicious of occasions.
<br>See, today he was about to become a man. So, I preemptively took Monday off
<br>from work and reminded my retired dad that he should do the same. I even
<br>offered Josh a chance to turn in his one Blue Chip for the year and miss a
<br>day of school to shoot Bambi or maybe even Bambi's dad if time and
<br>opportunity permitted.
<br>
<br>So, we took off toward parts known on Friday afternoon after stacking
<br>everything we possibly could into the back of my dad's shortbed truck.
<br>Coolers, sleeping bags, bullets, guns...MAN did we have guns. I think we
<br>brought three 30.06's, a 45-70, a 30-30, a .45LC, two pistols, one .44 Mag
<br>and my .45LC and most assuredly my dad's .38 Special concealed carry wheel
<br>gun. Just in case we had to get into it with some Mexican drug lords along
<br>the way I guess.
<br>
<br>So, we showed up at the first place out past mile marker OMG. "The Green
<br>Gate" (See a trend here?) and we drove and drove and drove
<br>and....drove...like Pioneer Children I guess. Heck, we even saw a flock of
<br>Chukar Partridges (Bunch of little Chukars anyhow). So, we had about four
<br>hours of daylight to do a little sight-seein' and we commenced to scoutin'
<br>for deer(s).
<br>
<br>Well, we went over hill, then over a dale, up a steep slope, and down a
<br>nutherin'...and uh...well, we didn't see so much as a year old rabbit turd to
<br>make us want to stay there for the morning hunt. So, we loaded up the truck
<br>and moved back to Eureka. About the second time we went through town we
<br>stopped and got some dinner. The first time we went through we scared the
<br>bejeezus out of the local clerk at the gas station on the East side of town
<br>when I walked in with my .45LC strapped on my side like Little Joe from
<br>Bonanza. Anyhow, they have decent hotdogs there, but their fountain drinks
<br>can't be carried from the top because they're in those sucky-azz Pepsi
<br>cardboard cups that don't hold their shapes. Anyhow, so the second time we
<br>rolled through from the other direction we left the guns in the truck and
<br>stopped at the Sinclair to test their microwave and their prepackaged dinner
<br>burritos. I think I had one of those Little Debbie fat pills. So, we
<br>actually saw two or three deer under the lights in the church parking lot, so
<br>we figured it was a good omen that we should hunt ½ mile from town the next
<br>morning.
<br>
<br>Listen, I gotta stop here because I gotta get home to Lexi for her birthday.
<br>So I'll see you tomorrow k?
<br>Hold that thought.
<br>
<br>OK, where were we? *sip* ahhhhh yes. So, that eventide, we set up camp in a
<br>burned-out area about .75 miles from town. I had eyes-on this giant canyon
<br>up over the top on the North side of Eureka (pronounced, "ur-ik-a" by the
<br>local populous). My idea, which just may have worked, was to walk up the
<br>ridgeline, and sit our plump and round little arses up on the ridgeline near
<br>daylight, and have someone else push the buckbrush for a change. Well, we
<br>weren't near as fast of hikers as once we were, and we made it up onto the
<br>ridge about 45 minutes after daybreak. Oh, it's important to note that the
<br>only two shots we heard the entire outing were behind us, pertent near to the
<br>area from whence we just come. Anyhow, so Josh and I start scouting for the
<br>perfect log (don't ask) and I set him on a big rock to watch this draw.
<br>Well, after adjusting my beltline a little tighter than five minutes prior, I
<br>met back up with him and we watched this draw/canyon. So, after about what
<br>seemed like an hour, dad came up over the top of the ridge and I had him and
<br>Josh sit while I swapped dad guns and I commenced into the buckbrush with the
<br>lever-gun. I'd pretty much decided a month earlier that with 2.3 elk in the
<br>freezer, the idea of shooting a deer myself was fairly unpalatable, and
<br>downright unsupportable considering our current deep-freeze storage options,
<br>so an open sights weekend was just fine with me.
<br>So, anyhow, Josh and dad saw a doe and a fawn, which basically constituted ¼
<br>of the deer we would see all weekend. In fact, we didn't hear another shot
<br>all weekend. Well, after hunting most the morning, we went back to see the
<br>camp site and formulate an updated operations plan for to go a killin' that
<br>afternoon.
<br>
<br>Well, after cracking open a dozen or so eggs, and frying up some bacon, we
<br>realized that we had neglected to bring anything but a few paper plates and a
<br>couple of plastic forks. What we were missing was a spatula, a ladle,
<br>um...butter...uh....bread...yeah...uh...tortillas...pretty much the makings
<br>of a perfect camping guys' weekend-stravaganza.
<br>
<br>So, that afternoon, we loaded up the Arctic Cat, and Suzi-Q and headed over
<br>to a stock pond and set to hiking up this side canyon. Well, I recall my
<br>ninja jammies, which are really nothing more than silky lingerie type thermal
<br>underwear, were starting to sweat the nethers, and the region, and here I was
<br>without the aide and comfort of Desitin for-to-which to alleviate my
<br>symptoms. Well, we hiked and sweated and hunted and came up quite
<br>empty-handed that evening.
<br>
<br>That evening, we went into town (aint that kinda dumb after what happened
<br>last time???) (Obscure quote from the Eastwood movie, "Pale Rider"). While
<br>in town, all three hundred yards of it, we settled upon this little hacienda
<br>known as, "Nell's Diner". Or something like that. Maybe it's, "Nell's Deli"
<br>or "Deli Nelli" or whatever, it's not germane to the story. Point is, we
<br>strolled on in the front door, and picked out a booth to sit and contemplate
<br>our next uncalculated move. Well, while we were there, we picked some items
<br>off the menu and were waited on what must have been a fourteen year old girl
<br>who sold dad and I on some day-old chili (WITH cheese?) and I think I had the
<br>breakfast dinner burrito. Dad had a cup o' Joe and I think Josh must have
<br>eaten a sammich with the crusts cut off. No wait, Dad had a hot-ham-n-cheese
<br>I remember, because he commented it was neither hot, nor advertised to have
<br>included mayonnaise. Anyhow, the chili was cold in the middle, and the hot
<br>ham wasn't made to spec., but we enjoyed not having to fire up the $19K
<br>generator to make dinner while we weighed and measured our austere outlook
<br>for Bambi slayin'.
<br>
<br>Well, we all kind of started to make fun of our predicament, and somewhere
<br>along the line we started quoting movie lines from, "The Survivors" with
<br>Robyn Williams, as well as Pale Rider (as alluded to before) and then we just
<br>got plum silly and started high pitched sales ideas for, "Crazy Nelli's
<br>Deli". I'd say we had a good time to be honest. Not to mention we got to
<br>wa(r)sh our hands before heading back into the deep recesses of Camp
<br>Blackout, located a half mile from the last square of sidewalk.
<br>
<br>So that night, lying there in the straw, with a good half a handful of that
<br>self-same straw having wiggled somehow into my underoos, we slept through a
<br>windstorm that began to lift the sides of the tent up and pretty much pull
<br>out 1/5 of our guy ropes. I truly thought this tent would take flight. So I
<br>ended up rolling over onto the West flap and laying on top of it, on the
<br>wrong side for breathing, and lay there until I had to pee so bad I finally
<br>let go the flap, and...you know what? Different audience, different time I'd
<br>tell ya. Anyhow, once that transaction was completed, I walked over and
<br>picked up the five gallon propane tank, which was affixed to the Big Gass
<br>Grill, and lay it atop the flap so I could get a couple hours more rest. If
<br>that's what ya call it.
<br>
<br>Well the next morning, quite without a light (we had no mantles for the
<br>lantern, and no batteries for the other, we made some breakfast concoction
<br>under the direct light shining forth from the Arctic Cat ( aka the $19K
<br>generator). That morning (Sunday) we took off to the furthest reaches of
<br>civilization, and up on top of the entire range to see if we couldn't find
<br>Josh some lousy old two-point to shoot at. Well we ended up on this trail
<br>that was a little two narrow (narrah) for the Arctic Cat side-by-side, and we
<br>all three ended up on Suzi-Q locked down in four low, differential lock
<br>climbing up this trail. I was driving, dad behind me, Josh back to back with
<br>dad, looking like quite the posse I imagine. Well I fought this thing up the
<br>trail for what seemed like an hour and we topped out into the flats and
<br>hunted.
<br>
<br>About noon I decided I'd had a gut-full, and it was time to head back and see
<br>momma and lick our wounds. We'd put in enough time, and it was threatening
<br>to rain/sleet/hale/or snow, and I'm no postman, so I tried to talk Josh into
<br>going home. Well, to be honest, the kid just couldn't hide his emotion and I
<br>asked him if he thought we were giving up on him, and he nodded in the
<br>affirmative, so we put another half a day in to hunt this austere canyon we'd
<br>just climbed into. It's pretty much a wasteland as it was hit by a fire over
<br>a dozen years back, and there wasn't a single tree down below, and only a
<br>thick stand of heavy timber in the crotch of this canyon. Well, I went back
<br>to bird-doggin' and figured as long as I was goin', I'd better git, so I got.
<br>You know how Pioneer Children sang as they walked, and walked, and walked,
<br>and wwwwwwwwwalked? Yeah, so did I. Otherwise I'd have froze to death when I
<br>topped out on this windy ridge and just about blew ass over tea kettle back
<br>with what must have been forty mile an hour wind and sixty mile an hour
<br>gusts. But, determined not to give up on my son, I pressed on.
<br>
<br>Well, now you've come to the end of our story and I have bad news for you.
<br>All that foreshadowing I've been working in here, all that set-up, all that
<br>anxiety we've built up here for the reader? Yeah, it's all for not. We
<br>didn't see another damn deer the whole weekend. Well, not true, we saw one
<br>saunter off when we first arrived that morning, but nothing with antlers or
<br>any self respect.
<br>So, we loaded up the truck and we moved back to Beverly I guess. A little
<br>beaten, a little worse for the wear. But you know what? I had a great time.
<br>I think Josh did too. That's a good kid that Josh. I didn't hear him gripe
<br>not once. He's a beautiful boy and I'm so proud of him. I'm always on his
<br>case at home I know. I hate that. But out in the sticks, bein' manly men, he
<br>makes my chest swell with how he conducts himself. He never gives up, he
<br>just keeps trying. He keeps the faith (wish Bon Jovi wasn't the first thing
<br>that came to mind just now). He's an amazing son. The important thing to
<br>me, is that we spent time with his grandpa Bill. I love that boy. I love
<br>him with all my heart and everything I do to work towards time in the woods
<br>is to teach him how to really be a man. When I say that, I'm not meaning
<br>that killin' makes you a man, I mean that getting dirty a little, getting
<br>outside your comfort zone, leaving the world behind, well, it recharges a
<br>man's spirit. I want him to know that option exists.
<br>
<br>Well hey listen, I've got very little to do from here, and only about an hour
<br>to do it in. So I'll let you get back to it. If you made it this far into
<br>the annals I'm quite proud of you, but more so, I'm worried you don't have
<br>much to live for, because to be quite honest, this isn't my best work, and
<br>it's anti-climatic at best...which, to be perfectly honest with you, has
<br>never happened to me before. I must be tired. ;)
<br>
<br>Hey seriously, have a great night/day/afternoon. Keep your head down and
<br>your powder dry. It was great talking to you and have a lovely, if not
<br>downright enjoyable rest of whatever.
<br>
<br>All the best meow,
<br>
<br>J
<br>
<br>
<br>
<br>Classification: UNCLASSIFIED
<br>Caveats: FOUOjonkenworthyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15189325469515955394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49107501677617107.post-76215155178410613392012-10-05T09:33:00.002-06:002012-10-14T18:32:51.666-06:00Hazy Shade of Winter...Look around, leaves are brown, and the sky, is a hazy shade of Winter.... Yeah, you know what that means dont ya? It's hunting season. Not just ANY hunting season either! This was the big mamba jamba I've been telling you about. The mature bull elk tag I waited ten years for. So, why dont you sit back, grab a cold one, and settle in, because this one is really gonna make the eyes roll back in your head trying to pretend you really care. <br />
<br />
So, let's see, hmm....oh yes, so there we were, 25 September, the muzzle loader bull elk hunt about to open the following morning. So dad and I went up Tuesday night to get snuggled into the cabin and prepare for the next morning's hunt. We hunt about seven minutes up the road from where my dad's cabin is by the way. That's including Green Gate time and emptying the trash and not locking the cabin door out of sheer excitement. You'll recall from our earlier conversations that I'd gone up with Brandon and helped him fill his tag the second day of his hunt with a rifle. He got a bruiser of an elk with about a 48" spread and all sorts of points and what-not. It's a nice six-by (means it has six points on either side). But he was a complete monster by the time we got him off the mountain. You'll recall I griped about having to pull the two rear quarters off the mountain myself. Yeah, 117 lb of animal on just two back legs. That's of course AFTER you cut the bottom half of the leg off and just carry down the drumstick (skinned mind you). So, anyhow, I was pretty stoked to get up there and equal Brandon's efforts. Well we did, and then some.<br />
<br />
So dad and I got up bright and early around 0430, (that's "4:30" for you civilian types) had a nutricious breakfast of something-er-other and headed for the mountain. We piled into Big Green and headed up to the Deep Creek to have a look around. So, the road was pretty good on the way in, and we drove all the way to the gate as I recall. I honestly can't remember ever elk we saw that day, or the next, or the next. But we saw at least two excellent bulls every day. A few of which I took some pot shots way across a canyon. See, a muzzle loader has a maximum effective range (for this guy anyhow) of about (apparently) 135 yards. Now, I shoot one of the new in-line muzzle loaders. In fact it's a Thompson Center Omega "Dream Season". How apt. Anyhow, it's a far cry from my .54 caliber patch and ball side lock I've been toting around since I was 13. Anyhow, the newer in-lines claim all sorts of fantastic and whimsical accuracy claims and most of them are true. However, whatyou can't get away from, is the fact that the bullet drops like a stone the moment it comes out the barrel. For example, at 50 yards, you may be dead on, but at 100 yards, you may be 8 inches low. At 150 yards you may be 15 inches low. So, throwing a Hail Mary bullet 400 yards across a canyon does nothing more than foul your barrel, create a big white puff of smoke, and get your heart racing. Which, is why I did that around 4 more times before I actually took about an 80 yards shot. Oh, it's important to note at this point, that it rained.....CONSTANTLY....the first three days of the hunt. We were sopping wet and I even got concerned that the bottom of my gun was filling up with water and the bullet wouldnt even fire were I to get a fair and honest shot.<br />
<br />
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So, sometime during that week we saw a big-(g)as(s) bull right smack across Highway 40 as we were leaving one evening a little more disheveled and none-too-disenfanchised with the whole experience. I took a pot shot at him at outside a hundred yards too by the way. Anyhow, we logged around 14 kilometers which, as it turns out is around seven or eight miles a day on the GPS, which dad and I had a pretty lengthy discussion about. See, I content that those miles are, "as the crow flies" and do not take into account the various ups (and steep ups at that) and downs (steeper downs) that we encountered. I figured real honest to goodness metrics if you figured in the rise and run would mean we were putting on in excesss of 15 miles a day. I say that, because we hiked from 6:30 am, 'till around 8:00 pm with nary an hour sit down in between to have some boiled eggs, kippered snacks, apples and even a sammich on rare occaision. Incidentally, busting out the kippered snacks is a last resort, elk seemingly LOVE the scent of them. I mean, who DOESNT love fish pickled in lemon and cracked pepper??? (smirk)<br />
<br />
So, about Friday night, well....Friday night to be exact, we took our tenderfeet (literally) home to soak in a nice hot shower (dudes dont bath. Washing your face in butt-water is just disgusting). Anyhow, Josh had a big game against Bingham on Saturday and I had my ten and eleven year olds to teach on Sunday. I also reasoned, that if I continued to keep the Sabath holy, that He would bless me with a monster elk at exactly fifty yards broadside, with the wind blowing toward me. Or...something like that. Truth be told, I'm getting soft and three days of fifteen miles each were taking their toll. <br />
<br />
So, Sunday night (not AS holy as Sun(DAY)) we left right after church and got up there around 3:30 in the afternoon. I placed myself high on a hillside nestled up under some aspens an watched a convergence of trails. Dad was bird-doggin' for me and went further up the mountain to push down to me. Well, sitting for me is just painful. I think I have adult A.D.D. Anyhow, so about an hour later, I heard an elk crashing through about 200 yards below me, so I got up to intercept him on the trail crossing. Well, he heard me, probably because I let out a cow mew, and he stopped dead in his tracks before he daylighted. So, I walked back up to my spot and sat down, a little sad, a little dejected, with a little, semblance of a tear at just the corner of my right eye. So, anyhow, I had no sooner sat down, and looked to my left and saw a huge bull behind a set of aspens. He was nervous and looking around for me. He couldnt smell me. I figured he was about fifty yards. The previous days I had glimpses at bulls at around eighty yards, and on at least two occaissions could only see their neck and head, and couldnt get a shot for the vitals. So, fearing he was about to bolt, I picked a spot on his neck, rested against a tree, and made a whole lot of white smoke and a loud noise. Well, it's important at this point to set the record straight. See, the week before the hunt someone told me the bullets that I was sighted in with were sucky. Barnes bullets were what I was using. They're solid copper and fly really well. Additionally, I was using 150 grains of powder, and after careful review discoved my gun is only rated for 130 grains of powder. So I did two dumb things, 1) I switched to from a 245 grain solid copper bullet, to a 348 grain bullet. The Barnes bullet is jacketed with a sabot, or plastic wad, and the other bullet...hey, I saw that, you yawned!!! Annnnnnnnnnnyways...I shot, and missed at his neck. I simply could not BELIEVE I missed. It's in-con-cievable!!! So...I apparently missed. Because the only shot I had was at his neck, and there would have been a great abundance of blood at the site were 348 grains of lead jacketed in copper come to a screaching halt in something's neck.<br />
<br />
So, to make a long story longer (deep breath)....Monday was about the same, until that night. Monday night....was....AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWESOME! I got down into the aspens and stalked into two bulls fighting over a bunch of cows. Then there was another huge bull up on the ridgeline bugling like Hell and a general sense of malaise down in that general vicinity. So, with about fourteen minutes of daylight left, I hauled arse over three ridges and put the stalk on them. I'm quite a stalker off the record. ;) So, anyhows...I got into these animals and let out a mew. The bull started walking toward me but then turned to the side and back down to resume talking trash with the two other bulls. I saw a glimpse of him through the thicket and new I couldnt get a clear shot. I'd already run off the bull on the ridgeline, and the second bull that was fighting with the one below me started walking across the expanse between the aspens. I'd say he was about 200 yards out and I just didnt feel I could reach him all things considered. So, I waitd for an opening in the trees below me. One came, and I had a chance at the bull. I let one of the Barnes bullets fly (I'd switched back after my "Major" miss). Smoke filled the night sky. He and a few cows started across the hill side, and I fiddle-fumbled around for my quick load. I couldnt get my cap off, and I couldnt get the bullet out of the plastic sleeve and he continued to walk majestically broadside (in slow motion) and by the time I got another shot off he was well out there. I presume I missed him, because he didnt so much as give two chits I'd even fired and just collected up his cows and walked off. I tell you what, that was the most incredible experience, and I would have ended my hunt right there quite content to know I'd experienced something very very few can ever imagine. So, also of import, is to note that the entire time we hunted, dad's communication devices always failed. One day he could hear me on the walkey talky, but couldnt reply. One day he had his phone, but mine was out of batteries, and one day they actually worked. This night for example. He asked me about every four minutes if I was close to the truck yet. I attribute that to his paternal worry for me. I have a headlamp, but I guess he was worried I couldnt figure out one ridgeline and a beeline for the truck with a halogen lamp. But, as a father, I understand the worry.<br />
<br />
So, Tuesday morning, with two more days to hunt, we took a drive over to the South side of the lake and drove around seeing if we could spot any and the stalk on them. To no avail. So we headed back over to Deep Creek and picked up right where we left off. During this particular hunt, we'd seen animals, particularly big bulls for the first 30 minutes in the morning, and the last 45 minutes of daylight in the evening. Everything in between seemed to be futile pursuit of sign and the hope of walking into them bedded down in either the thick pines or in a stand of aspen. OK, let me stop right there, the colors out there, the scenery where just...incredible. There is no way I can put into words the beauty of what the mountains are to me. During the first week, when the cloud layer would move in, it was like a sea of clouds with just the very peaks jutting out of the swirling thick clouds. We made it to the very reaches of each of the peaks on multiple times. Up one canyon there is a stand of red maple with leaves so vibrant so brilliant that it looked almost celestial. I'm serious. With each stiff wind, thousands of golden aspen leaves let go and fluttered down to the ground and littered the already molding and wet leaves from weeks of accumulation. You can see that each little leaf was holding on to the very last moment and finally relented to the coming change in season. Please, someone tell me, what season can bring more appreciation to the cycles of life as does September and the Autumnal change? With each storm that rolls through the temperature shifts lower and lower and the continual reminder of a coming blanket of white is less than weeks away consumes the mind. I found that I hurried my step subconciously, hoping to outpace the inevitable nature of dormancy in the mountains. <br />
<br />
So, that night, a cayon across from us, a bunch of bulls commenced bugling. Great screams of bugling. At least three we could hear. So dad and I met up, with around 20minutes of daylight left. I asked him if we should pursue them, to which he replied we couldnt possibly get over to them in time. To which, I reminded him, that i haven't been hitting the heavy bag for an hour on Tuesday mornings, or completing the three hundred on Wednesday mornings, or running 5.5 miles on Fridays and conducting weight training for three other days a week for nothing now. It was time to deliver. So I ran down the mountain, crossed the stream, started up the ridgeline and got into the action. As I caught my breath as I walked in I could hear two distinct pockets of ranting bugling. One on my left, and one on my right. Then I could hear a third bull, right in front of me as I moved closer and closer, trying to calm my heartbeat so they wouldnt hear my Tell Tale Heart. If you haven't read up on your Poe, get some. Anyhow, with seemingly every single step magnified in my ears, snapping twigs as I crept, wincing as I did, I moved step by step closer. The light was fading exponentially toward the negative, and I just wanted to see what bulls we had been listening to. I got down deep into the draw and as I stood there contemplating my next move, a spike bull ran up on my right flank and came to almost a cartoon skidding halt. Him lookin' at me, and me a lookin' at him. I pulled the gun up, cocked the hammer back, and very seriously considered dumping him. Then I realized I'd have to go back to work and explain to everyone how I'd waited ten years to draw a tag, wasn't able to put in for five more years, and it would be another ten or more before I'd draw this tag again, and why I felt it was a good idea to dump an idiot spike with two days left. So we came to an understanding, and he took off right in front of me and toward the bugling insanity above us.<br />
<br />
Well, I took about another two hundred yards of trail, sneaking, and hearing the elk on my left stop bugling. So I began looking up toward my right. Then, I saw him. A big bull, right smack in front of me feeding on the trail. He wasn't bugling and seemed oblivious to the chest thumping going on all around us. So I stalked up another twenty yards and he looked right at me. I froze, and he went back to feeding. I pulled up my binoculars, because it was getting so dark I couldnt see which part was head, and which part was a....not. When I figured out which way he was pointing, I ranged him mentally at about eighty yards. Leaned against the tree, and made a bunch of white smoke like we've talked about. Well, he stood there! So, I pounded another charge down the barrel, fiddled with a cap, pulled up and saw him about fifteen feet laterally to the right, I pulled up again, fired, and made a bunch more black powder (Pyrodex actually) stink in the draw. He moved about another five feet, looked around, and so I pounded a third charge in. As I was frantically putting a cap on, he sorta stumbled drunk-like, and started to lay down. So I ran up and closed the gap by about fifty yards, and started to prepare to shoot him again. As I pulled up, he kicked and groaned and grumbled and tried to stand up, to no avail. So I walked up even closer, and thought about putting one in his neck, but realized my second shot had already done so. He expired right there before me, and I called dad on the radio. Dad was above me in the tree line (I think you underestimate his sneeegy-ness) and I walked him in on the radio to where we were. The elk and I of course.<br />
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So, laying there on the ground I assumed was a smaller than I'd wanted bull. It was almost dark as dad got up to me, and we decided to field dress him, and cape him out for the taxidermist. Caping by the way, is no easy chore, and it took us in excess of an hour to just take the skin off his upper and get the head off. Between here and there we field dressed him, which, on an elk you have to pretty much climb up inside of them to do. So, we took the two rear legs off and let him cool out for the night (quite literally) and agreed to come back and get him in the morning with the cart. We got back that night to the cabin at around eleven pm and fell asleep (after an initial washing of arms, face, legs and throwing clothes away). By the way, I ripped my pants that morning which, I'd also done on Brandon's hunt after getting his bull, so I think we're starting a trend. If I rip a pair of pants, you'd better get ready to pack elk.</div>
<br />
So, the next day we got up, hit the trail head with the two wheeled cart, and cut our way down from the kill sight to the main trail. With a head, cape, four boned-out quarters, me wearing a backpack full of 40 lbs of backstrap, it was...uh....no easy task, to say the least. I'd say an elk laying there on the ground is as big as a standard size horse, so I'd put him around 1200-1400 lbs on the hoof. Once boned out, with the head and the quarters, I'd say we had about 300 lbs of animal on the cart. In fact, when I dropped the quarters at Meyers Meats that night, the scaled the meat out at 170 lb. That's with no bones, and no skin, no head, just...meat.<br />
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Anyhow, I gotta go get some stuff done. Cleaning out the freezer and realizing just the two quarters of meat from Brandon's have filledup my whole deep freeze. Let alone another 160 lb of meat coming. So, anyhow, people are hovering around me and talking too loud to focus anyhow, so I'll close now.</div>
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If you ever get the chance you have to hunt these incredible animals. If not for meat, for pictures, and if not for pictures, just for the experience of hearing the haunting sounds of September. As the clouds roll in and you stand at 9000 feet, looking down on the world, which was created for just me and you, you can't help but know there's a grand design in it all.</div>
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Anyhow, I hope you enjoyed the rant, I gotta go now. All the best to you and your's of course.<br />
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jonkenworthyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15189325469515955394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49107501677617107.post-64752969612853628092012-09-18T08:46:00.000-06:002012-10-14T19:18:30.486-06:00Green Gates and Knuckle Draggers...Hey there. How YOU doin'? Yeah, I'm back in town. Please try to contain your enthusiasm. So, today is Tuesday and I have the day off. I was off yesterday as well. I have a bunch of days of leave to use up and I can't focus at work. See, I'm getting a new gig. Yeah, I know, you're probably almost as excited as I am to hear it. I'm moving to Camp Williams. I'm going to work at Range Control as the Range Control Officer. I've never had a desire to work at Camp so this will be a nice change of pace. I've been working as the Personnel Officer for a brigade at Draper for about a year and HRO finally found a home for me. I was pretty much on loan while they found someone a little softer (and doughier) around the edges. I am not so sure that Military Intelligence guys feel really comfortable with a dirty old Engineer Officer in their midst. It was like I had cooties. I think what the best part about it was the condescending way in which they talk down to us knuckle-dragging engineers that makes me chuckle. I think they have this idea that we all chew tobacco and cuss constantly and say irreverent things and threaten (and often deliver) on breaking things and killing people. Nothing could be further from the truth however, as I dont use smokeless tobacco.<br />
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Anyhow, so you know I'm off on Fridays right? Well, Brandon (my brother) had drawn a mature bull elk tag for the Wasatch Mountains unit and it opened on Saturday. He and my dad went up Friday night and I couldnt leave to go help them until Saturday after Josh's game which was at noon. Which pretty much means you're not getting home until around 3:00. So, after yelling myself hoarse for an hour and a half while the boys played Herriman I was about to head up and meet them at the cabin on Strawberry. It's important to note two occurances out on the field. 1) Josh carried the ball for sixty yards for a touchdown in the fourth quarter; and 2) Josh had a play as a running back in which he blocked for the other runner and just flat-out knocked this kid right on his can and then stood over him. It.WAS.AWESOME. Sort of a silent, "Stay out of my backfield." The kid was about six inches taller than Josh but it didnt seem to bother him. Anyhow, we suffered a loss by two touchdowns. The important thing being of course, it's not whether you win or lose, but whether or not you knock someone senseless and cause reason to pause everytime they think about crossing the line of scrimmage. *Imaginary tobacco spit*<br />
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So, where were we? Ah yes, so I got a dollar off my gas at Smith's and still spent 71 bucks for 29 gallons of ultra-cheap-azz gas low-octane pickup fuel. See, I can't imagine buying anything but 85 octane for Big Green. Yeah, I know I threatened to sell her last month, but I need to get through my hunt coming up next week (which is where we're ultimately headed here with this stream of conciousness). So, Big Green, a bag, and a new elk bugle and cow call set headed up through Provo and Heber and along highway 40. I love Highway 40 by the way. So many good memories along that road. Well not the road itself of course, but what it represents. Back in the eighties when there used to actually BE deer in the area worth hunting, we would hunt up Coop and Chicken Creeks with my grandpa and aunt and everyone. So when dad bought his lot about a dozen years ago it just seemed a natural fit. Anyhow, so I was listening to, and singin' along with the radio and made it up just about at dark right as Brandon and dad were coming in the gate. Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you, Soldier Creek Estates is pretty much a gated community. Albeit the gate is a giant green metal gate and not an electric opener type, but gated never-the-less. Anyhow, so I held the gate for them and Brandon looked pretty tired. I also noted there wasn't an elk in the back of dad's truck.<br />
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So that night we sat and watched satellite television and got psyched up by Jason Bourne on TNT. It's the one where he's in Morocco and saves Nicki, the little blonde gal. Also, why is it every woman he saves has to immediately dye her hair black and cut it? I rather liked it blonde to be honest, anyhow, Jason Bourne totally jacked-up this Moroccan scooter rider guy and then jumped off a building like fifteen stories and his whereabouts are unknown.<br />
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So, anyhow, I slept on the bunkbed cot with the electric blankey and closed my eyes. Next thing I know it's 0430 and dad's down making coffee and looking for boots. It's kind of funny actually whenyou watch my dad. You'll always find him sitting in a chair right next to the wood stove in the kitchen. I'll walk down the stairs and see him just about as he grabs his boots and sits down in the chair. He always sits with his back to the stove and facing the stairs. Then he bangs pans around and starts cooking bacon so you are pretty much guilted into getting up. Course, the joke's on him, because now that I'm close to forty, I'm pretty much up to pee anyhow as I've had to sense at least 1:30 am and can simply no longer hold it. There WILL be two bathrooms in the cabin someday, but the one upstairs is not installed yet. So, to get up and go is quite a trek to go down the stairs, around the vinyl record collection, past the bumper pool table and left into the repository. By the way, dad has an extensive collection of the latest gun magazines and I find I can keep track on the recent testing of concealed carry models by Taurus, Smith and Wesson, and others. Incidentally, there's a new little Derringer which caught my eye that is called the, "Double Tap." It's 3/4 of an inch thick, carries two barrels locked and loaded and a quick release for two other bullets. Comes in .45 ACP and 9mm. Base model retails at $599, and ported barrel and stainless model comes in at around 799.00. But who's counting.<br />
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Where were we? Ah yes, so after eggs, hashbrowns and uh...something else, the sun was starting to crest over the Wildcat Range and we piled into Green and headed over to the Deep Creek. So, I'd talked Brandon into letting me walk with him and help bugle (call in) and cow call while we walked up through the aspens and hit the ridgeline. We heard one or two distant elk bugles early on and started to encounter some pretty fresh sign the closer we got to the ridgeline. Well, after beating our faces and scratching our arms up going through the buckbrush near the top, we finally daylighted and made our way up the ridge. About seven thirty am I spotted a cow darting through the brush about 350 yards out. We stopped and I cow called and another cow appeared. Right about then, a nice six point walked up out of the buckbrush and stopped right at the edge of the aspens. Brandon crouched down and fired a shot and we never saw them again. To his credit he was really rushed, and there was a pretty stiff wind coming up the canyon. He only had a few seconds so I didnt fault him. He took it pretty hard though and he made me bird dog the whole canyon back and forth twice before he believed me that they were gone. I went across the bottom, middle and top of that canyon 1.5 times before ten thirty am when I finally convinced him and dad that we were wasting valuable time. <br />
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Well Brandon and I headed further up the canyon while dad disappeared across the canyon into the trees. It's important to note we all had walkey talkeys (did I hear a, 'Niner' in there?) but none of them worked right and dad didnt have his cell phone so we pretty much lost each other at a hundred yards apart. Well, Brandon and I made it back to the truck about noon and waited for dad another hour. We went back to the cabin by way of my trailer at the lot in Fruitland (I'd lost my muzzle loader tag) and then back to the cabin for a couple of hamburgers and we were right back out the door. <br />
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This time we started at the green gate (not at the cabin, where we hunt) and decided to hunt this little box canyon where I've killed two elk and Brandon's killed one. It's always a good option after the initial opener when they get a little spooked and hide. Anyhow, this is one steep s.o.b. It was about three pm and I was stripped down to an orange t-shirt. Shaved head, orange shirt and sunglasses, looking like a Mexican without a concrete truck. Anyhow, so I was sweating all over myself the sun was blazing down on us. I was packing the backpack with all our water and my bugle and some other sundries like jackets and flashlights. So, we're skirting the outside edge of this box canyon, occaisionally sneaking a peek over the edge to guage our progress and see if we couldnt spot any. We were trying to stay out of the canyon until we hit the top so we could glass the entire canyon. Well, there was a little swell about a hundred yards across in the main canyon. That whole canyon side is covered in scrub oak and is 100 percent in the sun. We stopped near the first saddle and all of a sudden an elk kicked out and took off across this swell. Brandon sidestepped and was immediately twenty feet to my left while I was trying my best to peer through the buckbrush immediately in front of me. Brandon yelled out, "It's a BULL!" Well I had my cow call in my right front pocket and scrambled frantically to find it. About the time I got it into my mouth the bull had about two strides before he was over the edge of the hill and gone forever. I let out a cow chirp and he stopped dead in his tracks and looked back over his left shoulder. PERFECT quartering away shot. Brandon immediately put a 165 grain 30.06 bullet low behind his front shoulder and I saw his back leg kick and the bullet impact his chest cavity. It sounded like a wet newspaper smacking on a counter and I knew he would be dead in a few yards.<br />
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Well we both took off at a dead run as this bull took off over the hill and into the thick brush. I'd say we covered 100 yards in about 6 seconds. Quite a bit faster than a 4.4 forty, and all without breaking a leg on the steep sidehill. I put Brandon out in front of me and sent him over the edge while I stopped looking for blood where we shot him. Long story short, we searched frantically for blood to no avail.<br />
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About fifty yards down the hill I heard Brandon moving laterally back and forth across the sidehill and I went down to meet him. About thirty yards up thehill Brandon saw him in the death throws and we went up to investigate. Laying there on the ground just about to expire was this big six point bull. I'd honestly put him at over 900 lb. He hasn't been scored yet, but he's 48 1/2 inches wide and has good thick heavy beams which are a beautiful color of grey with white ivory tips. Gorgeous bull. Brandon wanted to mount him, so we started the laborious process of cutting him up. Long story short, neither Brandon nor I had a sharp enough knife to properly remove the cape and I had to beat feet to the truck and back to the cabin while I hoped my dad happened across Brandon. <br />
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At the cabin I grabbed some knives, a saw, and the game cart and ate a cookie and thumbed through a gun magazine and sprayed some air freshner and then was back on the road. At the green gate I fought the cart along the trail and hid it in the trees under where I figured we'd come out. Going straight up the sidehill I was within a hundred yards of where dad and Brandon were just finishing the cape and about to cut the neck. It was about 85 degrees and we were in the full sun and I was worried over the past hour and a half that we were going to spoil this elk. So, I gave Brandon the folding saw and he started cutting the neck and I commenced taking a back leg off. We weren't saving the hide except fromt he shoulder up, so I just carved off what I could. Brandon and dad fought with that huge head and antlers and they both started down to the trail and the cart. I cut all four legs off and grabbed the back two legs, Brandon's rifle and headed down the steep hill. Each back leg is about sixty lb and I had to throw one over my shoulder and drag the other through the brush stopping every ten feet or so to switch shoulders and hands. I could hear the two of them down at the trail below me and really wanted to bring both those back legs out by myself so they could quit griping about having to carry a head. Anyhow, I made it about a hundred yards from the trail before I stashed the second leg and hoofed it (pardon the pun) down to the cart to give them the gun and one quarter while I went back for the other. <br />
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Well we fiddle farted around with the cart putting the head on and the one quarter and a backpack and I went back for the other quarter. The front two shoulders were damaged by the bullet and but I removed them so we could go back for them in the morning. So I went back up the hill and grabbed the other back leg and came down in the dark. I had to hump it all the way back to the truck down the trail in the fading light and made it down right as everything went dark. <br />
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Well, long story short, Brandon and I left for the taxidermist in Orem and left dad to stay there overnight and let the meat cool hanging in the garage. Dad brought it down yesterday afternoon and I took it to Meyer's to have it cut. Turns out the two back legs together weighed in at only 117 lbs. I swear they weighed twice as much on the mountain. I honestly thought I had about 200 lbs of meat pushing me down the mountain as I ripped my pants from knee to crotch and tried my best not to face plant in the dimming light.<br />
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So, here we are now, all home, safe and sound. My hunt opens on next Wednesday and I am completely stoked about the possibility. I have taken the entire hunt off from the 26th through the fifth of October. I'm going to do everything possible to get my own bull. It's taken me 11 years to draw this tag, and I can't even put in for another seven years. Which effectively means you'll only draw a tag like this about every 25 years or so. Give or take five years. So, it's kind of a big deal.<br />
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Anyhow, I gotta go. I've got stuff to get to.<br />
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You have a wonderful day and sorry I went on and on and on. You keep your head down and your powder dry and I'll see you with another report soon.<br />
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All the best,<br />
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Jjonkenworthyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15189325469515955394noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49107501677617107.post-80359162602909870992012-09-13T18:06:00.000-06:002012-09-13T18:06:45.747-06:00Mity Mites and Strawberry Quick...<div class="tripane message content showqr" id="yui_3_2_0_1_134758078644453">
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<span id="yui_3_2_0_1_1347580786444110" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: small;">Hi there.<span> </span>Yeah I’ve been busy.<span> </span>Really busy in fact.<span> </span>So I think it’s been about a month since I last put pen to paper and jotted down a few thoughts.<span> </span>Life went into hyper drive and we’ve been working to keep everyone above the water line.<span> </span>Let me bring you up to speed here.</span></h3>
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<span id="yui_3_2_0_1_1347580786444112" style="font-family: Calibri;">So you’re aware, Josh has been playing football.<span> </span>He was picked up by the second B team (of five teams total) for the Riverton Mity Mites.<span> </span>At least, I think he’s a Mity Mite. Oh and yes, I’m aware that’s spelled incorrectly.<span> </span>I think the play on “Mite” as in a little bug, vice a Mighty Mouse was really clever on their part.<span> </span>Then just to confuse my little mouth-breather, they misspelled, “Mighty” as well.<span> </span>Whatever I guess. Anyhow, Josh is twelve, but he’s playing with the eleven year olds.<span> </span>I’m pretty sure I already told you all this, but I can’t honestly remember.<span> </span>Anyhow, he, “Z-d” down, meaning he is playing the eleven year old league because he’s mity.<span> </span>Well, a mite anyhow. Anyhow, he barely squeaked by under the 90 lb mark set by the league to do such things.<span> </span>So, he’s coached by Coach Denos, and Coach College (our neighbor).<span> </span>Josh loves it.<span> </span>He’s getting a lot of play time.<span> </span>On defense he plays either outside linebacker (that’s ma boy) and/ or defensive end (Cause he’s smooth like dat).<span> </span>On offense they have him slated for either running back or fullback.<span> </span>I’ve tried to coach him a little off the field on how to put his shoulder down as a full back and really wreak havoc, but he really tries to get slippery instead.<span> </span>He’s more of a juke kind of runner vice a dozer.<span> </span>I hope when he gets a little size he can get a little taste of some quarterback’s blood in his mouth to keep him mean (grrrr).<span> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Lexi finished her musical production thing.<span> </span>This really wasn’t a total musical like we were led to believe.<span> </span>Don’t get me wrong, it was cool; I just had envisioned they were going to do the whole of, “Mary Poppins” and not song selections out of it as well as out of, “The Sound of Music.”<span> </span>Either way I’m really truly proud of her efforts.<span> </span>She has a phenomenal voice.<span> </span>She almost made me cry the other day in Primary.<span> </span>Well, I did get a little teared up, but that’s because something got in my eye.<span> </span>Like an eyelash or something.<span> </span>Anyhow, she has the sweetest purest voice and that day when she was sitting next to me, (I teach the 10 and 11 year olds) it just got to me.<span> </span>Of course, she’s incredibly subtle like her dad, so she, at the top of her voice range says, “Daddy?! What’s the matter?!?” to which I try to silence her because now all the primary ladies now think I’m a giant wussy.<span> </span>I’ve worked really diligently the past few years to put on a stone cold exterior and in one little moment Lexi messed it up.</span></div>
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<span id="yui_3_2_0_1_1347580786444106" style="font-family: Calibri;">Isabelle will be baptized in a couple of months.<span> </span>Can you believe it? Wow, eight. Unbelievable.<span> </span>I was looking at some old pictures. Some from out in Tooele, and some from when we first moved here to Riverton.<span> </span>I can’t believe how beautiful those kids are.<span> </span>I really truly feel blessed.<span> </span>Isabelle is our thin girl that you have to coax into eating. But in some of those pictures she had just the fattest little cheeks.<span> </span>Isabelle has really tried to get me involved lately.<span> </span>Tries to read to me too.<span> </span>She also brings around her American Girl Doll catalogue and wants me to sit down with her and pick out day beds and outfits.<span> </span>The other day she found two catalogues for Halloween costumes.<span> </span>She’s convinced I should go as, “Nacho Libre”.<span> </span>But I found a, “Bacon” costume that really has me second guessing.<span> </span>I want to dress Josh up like Luke Skywalker and strap Sam (the Hamuel) on his back and dress him like Yoda.<span> </span>Anyhow, so many options considering I’d just be answering the door anyhow.<span> </span>The good news is, if I go as Nacho Libre, I can go ahead and just stop working out, because I’ve pretty much already hit the physical requirements.<span> </span>I’ll have to grow that cheesy mustache for a while, but hey, sacrifices you know?<span> </span>Wait, we were talking about Isabelle Maria.<span> </span>Anyhow, so this little girl…man. Talk about just plain sweet.<span> </span>She’s so kind.<span> </span>So tender hearted.<span> </span>I just love her to pieces.<span> </span>I can tell she’s really trying to get time with me.<span> </span>Which is a good segue here.<span> </span>See I quit Facebook the other day.<span> </span>No, seriously.<span> </span>I guess it just didn’t register until Isabelle was trying to talk to me in the kitchen, and I was looking at the home computer, waiting to make a funny comment with someone 7,000 miles away.<span> </span>I even snapped at her when she tried the third time to talk to me about what I considered to be inane.<span> </span>I realized after I’d snapped at her how wrong I was.<span> </span>Here I have this beautiful girl, whom I may have ten years left with in my home.<span> </span>She’s trying to talk to her daddy, trying to get her fifteen minutes of fame amidst the chaos of four siblings, a mom, a dog, football practice, Army requirements, neighbors, home teaching, visiting teaching blah blah blah…and she’s RIGHT next to me.<span> </span>Pretty humbling to realize.<span> </span>So I quit.<span> </span>There’s other reasons as well, but I figured if I don’t have my scripture reading completed for the day, or haven’t fixed the toilet flapper yet, promised for the fifth time to replace the sprinkler head, well, if I’m putting all that on the back burner just to make funny comments…well I’m wrong. Six ways from Sunday I’m wrong.<span> </span>So now I try to focus all my efforts on my wife and kids when I walk in the door.<span> </span>It’s increased my patience exponentially.<span> </span>But I still find that around 9:30 pm, after the ninth, “I’m thirsty” and the 25<sup>th</sup>, “I have to put this in my backpack” and the 32<sup>nd</sup>, “Josh, did you feed the dog?” I’m pretty much done.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So last night, (speaking of which) I moved Olivia out of our bed into hers.<span> </span>Stacey and I try and watch an episode of, “Parenthood” (the television show, not the movie) as our quiet time.<span> </span>While she’s putting Ham to sleep with a bottle, and I’m answering the 23<sup>rd</sup> backpack emergency.<span> </span>It’s a pretty cool show actually, and it’s nice to watch people on TV who have problems almost as bad as ours.<span> </span>I really identify with Adam Braverman.<span> </span>He’s the oldest brother that tries to sort out chit from Chinola.<span> </span>Anyhow, they have crazy parents and an autistic kid and a girl dating an African American recovering alcoholic…wow.<span> </span>Anyhow, so it kind of puts in perspective some of the things we’ve had to work on.<span> </span>Sorry, I got lost in what I was talking about, someone came and interrupted me.<span> </span>Where were we?<span> </span>Oh yeah, so, we now send Olivia upstairs.<span> </span>She always asks, “I lay in your bed for a few minutes?” which, of course, you can’t say, ‘no’ to. I mean come on.<span> </span>So I make her a sippy cup (no more chocolate or strawberry Quick now) and get her blanket and escort her upstairs to our bedroom.<span> </span>She pretty much passes out from there.<span> </span>Well, so last night, we turn our show off and head upstairs.<span> </span>In the middle of our bed, is this little angel.<span> </span>I only say that, because she’s sleeping. She’s pretty much a demon child during her waking hours.<span> </span>But when she falls asleep, her face softens to what must be softer than silk skin.<span> </span>I couldn’t help it last night. I kissed her cheek and her pouting sweet little lips a half dozen times between there and her bed.<span> </span>I had to fight against wanting to hold her the rest of the night and just soak her in while she’s sleeping.<span> </span>She’s got blonde hair, dark brown eyes, beautiful porcelain skin, and when you hold her up to you sleeping she starts to talk in her sleep and asks you to, “a-hold me?”<span> </span>I don’t really deserve this life, I really don’t.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So Sam, or the Ham, everything’s, “Ham” with him.<span> </span>He’s, “Hamsome”; he’s Hamuelio; he’s Hamsonite; he’s Hammy Davis Jr.<span> </span>You can pretty much do ANYTHING with the name, “Ham”.<span> </span>Man that kid, I swear. He’s got this incredible ear to ear smile.<span> </span>I held him for about a minute and a half last Sunday. There’s always some neighbor trying to come steal him away.<span> </span>He’ll look at you from across the room, and if you start to smile, he can’t help it.<span> </span>He just melts you with this soft, 100% acceptance perfect wide smile.<span> </span>Hammy is, in one word (hyphenated albeit) a God-send.<span> </span>He is everything we needed in a child to pull us all together as a family.<span> </span>Lexi has to help us with him very often because we have a lot of moving parts and pieces you can imagine.<span> </span>Josh just adores his little brother.<span> </span>He picks him up, he carries him around, he’s a little too rough with him, and he loves it.<span> </span>Olivia fights with Hammy and taunts him and he’s just accepting enough to let her go on until he’s had enough.<span> </span>Then he bites her.<span> </span>He’s his mother’s world, and he’s my second chance to enjoy things I’ve missed with Josh while I was off building an Army career.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Speaking of which, I think I decided not to pursue my Master’s for a while.<span> </span>I was looking into an 18 month Master’s program for an MBA with U of Phoenix.<span> </span>I have another Army school to complete in the next three years called, “I.L.E.” Short for, “Intermediate Level Education.”<span> </span>Basically, I can’t promote to lieutenant colonel (LTC) until I have it completed.<span> </span>It has three phases.<span> </span>One two week phase, followed by a yearlong phase where I meet with my class once a week on a designated day. Read all kinds of homework, write papers, etc.<span> </span>Then you follow it up with the culminating effort of another two week course.<span> </span>Oh, and the fine print, is then you have to get an, “AOC”, or Area of Concern.<span> </span>Blah blah blah.<span> </span>More school.<span> </span>Bottom line, I’m eligible for LTC in about 4 years and I don’t want to have some mobilization or some other issue come up and put me back again.<span> </span>I’ve done that my entire career.<span> </span>Focused on family, my job, etc, and had to really rush to finish my required schooling to promote.<span> </span>I’ve seen too many good officers miss out on a promotion for something as simple as checking the block.<span> </span>So, I figured, we’ll start that in January, and by March of maybe 2014/2015 I’ll be all done.<span> </span>God willing and the creek don’t rise anyhow.<span> </span>So, by then I’ll have just 4 years left in uniform and I’ll work on my Master’s before I leave service.<span> </span>But enough about me.<span> </span>Let’s talk about what I think.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So, Stacey is doing really well.<span> </span>She’s finding it difficult to keep up with her hour work out during the day with football, Sam, Olivia, taking care of me, canning peaches and pears and being pretty much the all-around perfect mother and wife.<span> </span>I swear I really don’t deserve that girl.<span> </span>I’ve been told as much by enough people to know it’s true to boot.<span> </span>She’s amazing and I really look up to her for her spirituality and her love for our children.<span> </span>She’s an amazing person and I feel blessed beyond measure to know that despite my complete failings in many regards she even wants to try.<span> </span>Personally, I think that because I’m a world class lover, she can’t make the choice to toss me out, but the reality may be that she thinks my kids would miss me and she needs the extra driver to get people to and from dance and football. Anyhow, I want her to know that she’s the only one in the world that I truly feel has no pretense, no hidden agenda, is honest, is loving, and what an example she is to me and our children.<span> </span>There is no possibility of a better mother for our incredible (and active) children than her.<span> </span>I simply cannot say enough about her.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Well hey listen, I have to get going, I’ve prattled on long enough anyhow.<span> </span>I’ll write again when I can, but until then I’ll just keep on keepin’ on. You probably won’t see me in a bike race, or a run through mud, or anywhere else for that matter, because God’s given me plenty to do so that I don’t get lost in the sauce with alternate activities.<span> </span>I will of course take a pause on life here in about a week and a half to go hunt that monster elk I’ve been talking about.<span> </span>I’m taking the 26<sup>th</sup> of September all the way through the 5<sup>th</sup> of October off to do it in.<span> </span>I’m in a word, “stoked.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Hey, seriously, I gotta go.<span> </span>You have a great day and keep smiling.<span> </span>All the best.</span></div>
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jonkenworthyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15189325469515955394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49107501677617107.post-27709471285299850132012-08-25T10:55:00.000-06:002012-08-25T10:55:08.695-06:00Saturday is a Special Day...Hey guys. How are ya? I'm doin' great. So it's been a pretty eventful Summer. Busy busy busy. We haven't been up to the lot for a few weeks because every night of the week and two hours on Saturday are devoted to football for Josh. Lexi's doing a childrens' Broadway production of, "Mary Poppins." She's playing the part of, "Bert" or, "Bertie" as it is in this case. Lexi and Isabelle are both in clogging and Olivia is potty training. Sam's doing great. He's had an ear infection and working on his top two teeth now. He's started biting people that make him mad (namely Olivia) and we've had to put the gate back up on the stairs because he's highly mobile. Stacey and I are really enjoying these kids. We wake up early, and fall asleep exhausted, but satisfied that we're doing everything we can. Of course we've started working on Lexi's pre-tween attitudinal swings wherein she expects mom and dad to rationalize our every decision. Josh is really doing well, but still leaves his football clothes in the bathroom after he showers. We're really working on picking up after ourselves lately. Well, mom and dad are. Continually we remind people where their bikes go, reminding them to put their bowls in the sink, etc etc. In fact, Stacey finally listened to my pleadings and threw away all but about ten cups and glasses. Personally, I think we should throw away all but a dozen forks and spoons and cut down to the same number of plates. Just to avoid doing dishes forteen times a day.<br />
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Wow, I just heard my mom in my voice there. My mom used to say that, "I tell you that fourteen times a day!" Maybe that's where I learned to speak in hyperbole. You know, I'm really trying to work on being more patient with the kids. Josh for example. He tries to out-dumb me all the time. But I'm certain I'm dumber than he is. Yesterday I was teaching him how to use the weed whacker, which, you would think would be part of his genetic makeup as a 1/4 Mexican. But alas, it may have skipped a generation. But anyhow, I felt myself getting really frustrated that he couldnt walk backwards and keep from breaking the line off every time he put it down. I found myself genuinely irritated that he wasn't moving more than at a snail's pace. Then I realized of course I may have been making him nervous so I sent him in the back yard so I didnt have to watch him anymore. <br />
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So anyhow, full day today. I went to Lowe's and picked up a toilet flapper device replacement thing, and a wax ring. Turns out the toiled upstairs is leaking at the base, and the toilet downstairs fails to fill up about every five flushes because it sticks. I've still not cleaned my guns from three weeks ago, and now we've got Josh's game at Bingham today, and Lexi's performance at Riverton City tonight. I really dont want to work on any of that stuff though. I just want to enjoy my family. This morning I woke up early to get the Bountiful Basket. Wouldnt you know it though, a dozen more brussel sprouts. I friggin' hate brussel sprouts. I think the best recipe for brussel sprouts is to bake them wrapped in bacon, and when they hit your plate, you eat the bacon and throw away the sprout. Then after I got the basket I picked up a couple of drinks and then headed over to get some breakfast burritos for Stacey and I. It's an off day today. Neither of us worked out, so I figured the Diet Coke I was withholding all week could be enjoyed once this week. <br />
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Oh yeah, so this last week I've tried to get down to one 12 oz soda per dia. But before I drink it in the morning, (and following my workout) I have to drink 52oz of water. It's disgusting I tell ya. Then I sit at my desk while I start my day and eat my breakfast. Usually a couple hard boiled eggs and a banana or some other fruit and some carrot sticks. It's icky stuff. Then at lunch I try to eat somethign a little more healthy, and for dinner I either skip dinner in favor of a doctored protein shake, or just break down and eat whatever sinfully delicious Stacey has Pinterested. But I try to stay away from seconds. Key word, "TRY." Damn that woman's a great cook too. I'd be twenty lbs lighter if she weren't. I'm a sucker for carbohydrates and sauces and stuff. She's tried to get me to eat a simple salad for dinner, but I'd rather eat cardboard. I'm a man dammit and I need meat and potatoes so I can clear the North Forty in the morning. Or, so I tell myself. Anyhow, so, let me back up. I closed my Facebook account the other day. No particular reason. Just getting tired of complaining I dont have enough time. Always rushing from one thing to another, and I've finally admitted it has so much to do with my constantly checking for funny updates or for the next opportunity to post something hillarious. I guess I realized that fact when Isabelle was trying to talk to me the other day in the kitchen and I kept putting her off that my priorities were all out of whack. Anyhow, I guess keeping track of old highschool friends and Navy buddies and work mates really just can't trump the time I should be spending with my little ones. Especially when a great number of hours at home are spent changing disk brakes and fixing toilets. No rest for the wicked and the righteous dont need it.<br />
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Hey, speaking of which, my little boy Sam is here at the foot of the couch looking up at me. Smiling in his heart warming big boy way. I gotta cut this short. More important things to do that waste the day away talking about how busy I am.<br />
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Anyhow, ya'll have a great day and a fantastic until we meet.<br />
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All the best,<br />
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Jjonkenworthyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15189325469515955394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49107501677617107.post-68106687277240693952012-08-06T19:07:00.000-06:002013-02-05T16:04:02.213-07:00Cottonwoods and 3 Gallon Jacquizi'sAre you ok? I stopped because you looked like you were getting worried. We can stop here if you're getting scared? Ok, if you're ok, we'll go on then. Where were we? Ah yes...<br />
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Wow. So, let's see here...hmm...ok, so you may or may not have known I have been stacking up the leave for a while. Three years of working your guts out has a way of making your leave stack up. I was up to 74 days of leave at one point. Then I got down to 69 (no pun intended), and after taking four days, and being off work for about ten days straight (I work four tens, you doyour own math), I now have plenty of leave to get me under the mandatory sixty days maximum I'm alotted to carry over fiscal years. So, come 22 September, I'm going to take off until the 4th of October to hunt elk. <br />
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So, that's the other thing. I drew out for a mature bull tag on the Wasatch. Took me ten years of trying, so I'm going to take the entire time off to do my worst. It's for a muzzle loader season and it's smack-dab in the middle of the rut. It's gonna be awesome, and to be honest I can't wait. Josh has football of course, oh, that's the other thing, Josh is hunting this year too. Dad, Josh, and I all drew out for deer tags in the latter part of Octubre as well. Josh got his 30.06 for his 12th birthday from my dad, and he's quite a shot. I fully believe if we see a little buck that Josh will be able to put him down.<br />
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So, over the week that I took off, we went up to our lot. I purchased about 250.00 worth of sprinklers and timers and the like, and connected it up to my new water source that we just installed. It's pretty sweet to have all the water you can drink at the simple lift of a handle. I'm giddy I tell you. I am not sure if you're keeping up, but originally we couldnt buy the water share, because they were all taken. But someone sold me their share, and we got it for about 3K, plus the installation of the line for another 1K. Money well spent however, as we shower till we run out of water and then fill up the hot water tank and go again. It's like having a three gallon jacquizi. How do you spell, "Jacquizi" anyhow? That looks like it's a spanish word to me. Anyhow, so then Stacey and the girls and Sam went home, and Josh and I stayed the middle of the week until they came up again. We fished in the boat on Starvation (caught nothing, so it's an apt name for the lake), Strawberry (caught nothing), Red Creek (slow but caught two) and Currant Creek. Currant Creek was the best fishing we have had in a long time.<br />
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So, I had a lot of problems with the boat. The connections between the hose line and the motor were sun-rotted and we had to drive into Duchesne to chase them down. Got all the way to Duchesne and realized I left my wallet, and had to pull into the Zion's bank there and dazzle the lady behind the counter with my personal knowledge of my address, phone number and SSN. But we pulled out 100.00 bucks and then bought some bacon and and biscuits and of course our boat part and headed back. Oh, about the time we were doing that, I noticed at their IFA that they had some 8 foot tall cottonless cottonwood (huh?) trees. They were $20 bucks each, so I filled up as many as I could in the back of Big Green the next time we came into town with seven of them. Oh, so I talked the neighbor into using his backhoe to dig the holes for me, and his rear tire just fell off! Broke the welds and dropped him right on the axle right there in my dirt patch! But, he dug the rest of the holes, so Josh and I helped him pour his concrete footings for his house the next day out of pioneer spirit and a tad bit of guilt.<br />
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OK, so that was a few weeks ago, and since then I had some Korean officers come visit us. I deployed with the colonel (light colonel), to Iraq, and haven't seen him for six years. He's stationed in Texas right now attending a course, and wanted to fly out here with his school mate (a major) and see some of the old gang from the mobilization. Well I took him and the major up over night to the lot, and turned them into 48 hour cowboys. Took them shooting the .44 magnum and my .45 Long Colt, as well as riding the four wheelers up over the top of Trout Creek and down to the Currant Creek store for some ice creams and back. Then my mom made us all some soft shell tacos and we came back here to the ranch on Saturday night. Sunday night they got up, and went to Sacrament Meeting with us, then we all shuttled on up to Temple Square and gave them the grand tour. I really had a great time with them here. It only solidified for me how much I'd like to build a few small cabins (maybe not on our lot, but who knows?) and start up a business in the Summer guiding foreigners and Easter Folk alike into the back country just like we did this weekend. I have to be a school teacher to accomplish this, as I still need a job of some variety after I finish my military career here in about seven years. I plan on retiring as a lieutenant colonel, perhaps even a full-bird colonel, and then taking my pension and adding to it the money we've saved in our 401k and my 21K/year I make teaching snot-nosed high school kids how to drive cars and play football. I suppose I could teach shop, as one of my thumbs is a skosh shorter than the other'en due to an accident in a Dodge Gremlin during my formatives, but I'll not bank on that till they offer me the position. Hopefully by that time I have a pot-gut and am balding an have a big floor broom mustache to really pull it off.<br />
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Well, I guess you're now up to speed. So I'll close for now and go get my dishes done and clean 2 out of the five guns I should have cleaned on Saturday. Stacey is off to the Rec Center getting lovely, and Josh is at football, and I have about an hour left before we start the process all over again. So, I guess keep your head down and your powder dry, and I'll see you when I see you.<br />
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All the best kids,<br />
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Jjonkenworthyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15189325469515955394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49107501677617107.post-27451806095108911602012-07-04T12:48:00.000-06:002012-09-29T18:14:22.401-06:00Fourth of JulyI've been thinking this morning, about the Fourth of July. What it means to me, is my experience different than yours? This morning the ward (parish) put on a 4th of July breakfast. It's kind of a tradition now, seeing as how this is probably the fourth or fifth iteration. I'm glad they do it. To be honest, it's a little hokey, because the Cub and Boyscouts are in charge of a flag ceremony that kicks off the event. The first couple of years I was a little too focused on the protocol of how the boys and the leaders were conducting the ceremony. I'll be perfectly honest with you, watching people salute with only one or two fingers really makes my skin crawl. But, to be honest again, I understand that's the method which has been approved by the Cub and Boyscout organizations. Additionally, the boys aren't always so reverent, but they're getting better. <br />
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Today we were running a little late. I sent Josh on ahead in his bike. He had his scout uniform on. It was even tucked into his pants. Which, considering he rarely comes his hair, or ever wears anything but basketball shorts of late is quite a feat. Josh is really growing up by the way. I wrestled with him, his mom, and the other kids last night in the family room. He's not as easy to throw around as he once was. In fact, I tried to lift him over my head a couple of times, and I'm thinking that those days are numbered down into less than triple digits at this point. He's solid and muscled that kid. Anyhow, you slap his scout shirt on him and splash his face off with water and he almost looks like a young man. So Josh let out on his bike, and pretty soon Lexi was there asking me if Hallee could go with us. To which, in a moment of sheer inspiration, I suggested they take Isabelle and start walking over. I did that, because, I knew we would be at least twenty minutes late waiting on Stacey. I love that girl, but I swear to all that's holy I'm gonna start her funeral 28 minutes late just to complete the circuit. Anyhow, I guess beautiful has a price, and in this case it's punctuality.<br />
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So, where were we? Ah yes, so Stacey, and Olivia and Sam and I piled into the Pilot and make the two blocks over to the church. On our way, immediately outside of our circle, almost in sepia tone, was an old 1970's Ford pickup. It was at one time red and white, but now was closer to orange and rust. As soon as I saw the truck, from behind it appeared two or three scouts. They were putting the flags out into the park strips in front of every house. In the back of this pickup, like a bouquet of Freedom, the Stars and Stripes where draped over the upright tail gate. It was surreal. I really got choked up to be honest. It was a beautiful moment I tell you. The sun had been up about an hour and a half, and the smoke from the recent fires along the Wasatch Front were casting a haze across the highest peaks. It looked like the mists on Mount Olympus would if you were some sort of demi-god come to pick a fight with Zeus. Anyhow, so the splashes of intense colors were almost too much for me. The filtered sunlight, and the dramatic slow motion movement of these young men and one adult paying respects to our Nation were incredible. Where else are you going to see this? Where, other than your home town, are you going to see a beloved pickup truck which I betcha ten bucks smells like hay, is going to transport the beloved symbol of our America? I've seen the flag fly over American Embassies in Turkey and Morocco. I've walked past a flag on Naval Airstation Atsugi Japan every day on my way to work as a young sailor. I've saluted the Ensign and requested permission to come aboard an American aircraft carrier, aptly named the U.S.S. Independence. I've seen a flag flown for my own father and one for my inlaws flown over Camp Victory, Iraq and presented them with a certificate signed by General George Casey. I have even seen and visited the very Fort where Francis Scott Key penned the Star Spangled Banner. It took place at Fort McHenry, Baltimore Maryland if you didnt know. I was there during a National Guard Conference where they had period dress Soldiers, and ships in the harbor and dramatic and moving recreations of that fateful event. But I have NEVER seen the flag so vibrant, so beautiful, so incredibly alive with color and promise, as I did today.<br />
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I know, it's a bit much to swallow for you. But I mean it all. I guess I got thinking, why does Old Glory affect me this way. To be honest, a lot of people would suggest it has to do with military service. Which, is part of the equation to be sure. But that's not all it is to me. I think this celebration is more than another Veteran's Day. It's more than Memorial Day. This is the day we celebrate the personal courage and sacrifice of men who were willing to lay their entire fortune, and sacred honor on the line. This is the day we celebrate common rabble, who dared to defy their king, in order to provide a venue and land free of tyranny, where men and women could pursue their own happiness. I mean, that's it isn't it? In a nutshell? That men, who held, 'these truths to be self evident. That ALL men, are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights.' How powerful a declaration. In the truest sense of the word. That these men would, knowing they faced financial ruin, charges of treason, would pledge their sacred honor to defend this premise. Almost too much to bear to think about. How is it, that these men would have the personal courage and the foresight to dare to make these claims. That their vision, of separate States and colonies could possibly form a representative democracy. The Constitution, and the Declaration of Independence are in the truest sense American scripture. They both refer to a Creator, they both refer to and invoke in their charter. I'm not sure that a case can really be made against it.<br />
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So, today, is not about Soldiers. It's not about the Founding Fathers. It's not about George Washington, Ma, Apple Pie and Norman Rockwell images. America is, has been, and with maintenance and selflessness, will continue to be a land of vast opportunity. The 4th of July is about opportunity, about promise. About safety, about intellectual promises and virtues that extend beyond a single day. I guess, when someone shook my hand today, and thanked me for my service, while I waited in line for pancakes, I was a little resistant. I appreciate the sentiment, believe me, I do. But to me, the 4th of July isn't just for Soldiers, Airmen, Marines or the Coast Guard. It's more than firetrucks and volunteer firemen. It's bigger than 17 year old girls who are crowned royalty for their little city for a year. It's bigger than the Patriot Riders in the parade, bigger than the Allstate float. It's about the promise. America's promise. I'll go you one further, America has made a covenant between this sacred land, it's Creator, and it's people. All of which hinge on our continued realization of that fact. <br />
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I have had a wonderful holiday thus far today. I've felt my heart of hearts swell with the beauty and majesty of our great nation. I guess all I want to say, is thanks America. Thank you for those that have set the bar almost impossibly high. Thanks for my grandad who was a Merchant Marine in WWII. Thanks for my dad for being a volunteer fireman, an EMT, and a Sailor. Thank you for a small town, where I had 80 acres of alfalfa, a dog and a pellet gun Thank you for hot dogs and the horrible way they can affect health. Thanks for making it my choice, and not my governments. Thank you for smokers. Thank you for drinkers. Thank you for priests and little old blind Italian ladies that can't wait to feed you spagetti. Thanks for the double decker buses in New York, for the faces on Mount Rushmore and the gum on the railing as I look across San Francisco's Golden Gate Bridge. Thank you for Ellis Island, and the racial epitaths that have resulted from your shorthand. America, thank you for the lessons I have personally learned. For the opportunity inherent and too often dormant. You truly are, a land of milk and honey.<br />
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I gotta go now. I just wanted to share that with you. I hope you stand a little taller this evening. If you're going to the park, to watch the fireworks, pay attention. I'll bet you a dozen donut holes that a group of Veteran's are conducting a flag ceremony while you're busy gabbing. Please quell your conversations for those few fleeting moments. Please dont miss this sacred opportunity for reverence. Please internalize and renew your own promise to be a more active participant in this representative democracy. Whatever this day means to you, please take a moment to share that with your children, your neighbors, and let you're own love of country continue to expand the hope and promise of this day.<br />
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All the best to you and yours,<br />
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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ru40GiejGDg&feature=related <br />
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Jjonkenworthyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15189325469515955394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49107501677617107.post-56783306401754440282012-06-22T10:18:00.002-06:002012-10-14T19:39:21.710-06:00Nothing...Oh hey! It's you again. Yeah, been about a week. Things are wrapping up with an exercise we've been working. I'd like to tell you about it, but of course I'd have to kill ya. Anyhow, I've been waking up at 0430 and getting home around 7-ish. Which, for a guy like me who loves his 4 10's, sucks. Anyhow, I've had stuff going, so dont think I left you hangin' on purpose.<br />
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So not much to report here. Things are running smoothly on all eight cylinders. I'm forking out 3 Grrr for the priviledge of connecting to the water at our lot this weekend, and then another 800 or so to connect. Anyhow, I've got a 4K cashiers check in my pocket just burnin' a hole you know? I could buy something fun for the family, but since I'm selfish, I figured we could shower at our trailer. <br />
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What else? Hmm. Ah, anyhow, just been busy. No rest for the wicked and the righteous dont need it. Anyhow life is good, things are well, and we're livin' the American Dream.<br />
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I better go load the truck. We're leaving soon after Stacey gets her nails done and Maggie gets a haircut. I even wa(r)shed Big Green. Well the outside of her anyhow. You've gotta look good to get dirty. Anyhow, I gotta rock and roll now. So, we'll see you around. You take care and enjoy your week(end). <br />
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All the best.<br />
Side Arm Church Hugs,<br />
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Jjonkenworthyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15189325469515955394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49107501677617107.post-30932242984903032322012-06-17T14:17:00.001-06:002012-10-14T19:45:49.849-06:00Daddy's Hands...So, Derek asked me a few days ago to give a spiritual thought today in Elder's Quorum. I'll be honest with you though, a few years ago, that would have really been a no-brainer. But since that time I've really decided to mete out what I say spiritually to be only exactly what I feel and no more. It's been tough, I wont lie to you. Some of life's challenges and hiccups have really precluded me from being too social in church the past little while. Anyhow, I've been unsure of what to talk about all week. You may laugh, because it was just a simple five minute thought about life, the atonement, the Savior, and a simple testimoney. Pretty much too easy. But like I said, anytime I speak anywhere in class or bearing my testimoney, it's all business and no fluff with me now. There are reasons for that, which I wont really go into here, but suffice it to say, I have a testimoney of the Gospel and the Atonement that is far more deep and rich than before. Not without price of course, but now I feel that it's too important to just throw out there. I think it would best be stated that I no longer throw pearls before swine.<br />
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Anyhow, so, as I was sitting there in the over-flow of the chapel today, I was looking down at Olivia's hands. She sat on my lap...well, more balanced back and forth on my lap, stood on my legs, grabbed me around the neck, and really just jungle-gymned all over her daddy. There were some real genuine hugs from her and I felt terribly blessed. Next to me was Stacey, and she was holding Samuel. He's a doll that kid. Engaging bright eyes and a smile that melts your heart effortlessly. He's a real character too. He knows you think he's funny but his smile is so very soft and genuine. I love that little boy. I love all my children. But I love their mother too. Not just because she's given me these five beautiful children, but because they are the little personalities they are because of her. Each of our children shares elements of each of us. Josh has a mischeivious grin and a quick wit. He's smart, but insightful. Alexia is bright and cheery, but passionate to the point of anger when she feels an injustice. Isabelle is quiet and reserved. She always lets everyone else have their way, and when she's injured, her giant near-black eyes well up with tears which she refuses to let drop. She's so very tender. Olivia, the terrible. With her demanding insolence coupled with the soothing beauty she radiates at the final fleeting moments of the day.<br />
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Each of these children have their own needs, desires, fears and they all share parts of their parents that shine through readily. I was looking at Samuel's hands today. His hands are strong. He's a very powerful looking little boy. Which is interesting, because his expressions have no guile, no pretense, and he just melts you with a single look. But he's strong, and you can tell that he's going to be blessed with a frame that is more adapted to being a full-back, or linebacker, than that of a receiver. In chick terms, he's going to be full of muscles but not too tall. Anyhow, I was looking at Sam's hands. I have been noticing that the majority of our children have my hands. Stacey's hands are slender and elegant. They're made for playing the piano. I watch her sometimes playing and am in awe of how she deftly navigates the keys, her touch landing with varying pressures to create something inspirational and beautiful. <br />
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So, as I sat there, I started thinking about my own father's hands. My dad has hands that always impressed me as a child. They're strong his hands. My dad's hand are riddled with the impressive strength of his veins and the thickness of his hands denotes their inherent strength and power. My dad's hands are not terribly large, but they always impressed me at how he could open jars and turn wrenches and fix things that I just could not do. My dad's hands were often split and cracked from working out in the elements. For many years he was a telephone lineman and repairman. He'd have to work in the extreme heat and cold and repair and splice the intricate wires while hanging from a pole, or hunched over at the roadside inside a box. I remember him getting stung from wasps, and bees when he kept them. My dad's hands were always full of character, and I knew that if anyone ever tried to enter our home, my dad could fix their little wagon in a short hurry.<br />
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You know, from there, I started thinking about my grandpa's hands. My grandpa Kenworthy, as I've already talked about, was the nicest and kindest person I've ever met. But he was never weak, he was humble and gracious with everything he had. I may have talked about this before, but my grandpa always had a fingernail or two that were blackened from his work as a carpenter. He was a framing contractor for homes and later on in his life focused on trim and finish carpentry. In my mind he was not a carpenter, but a craftsman, as he took great pains to exact the finest detail on his work. At his funeral, many commented on what a perfectionist he was at his craft. My grandpa could do more than hang a pre-hung door, he could make a door, drill and tap for hinges, hang in on a frame, shim it, plum it, and fit it to precise and exact proportions. I imagine that my grandpa, who was not active in the churcy, would have been the perfect candidate to work on the Lord's Temples, should he have been presented the opportunity. His work was not grandios, nor overly ornate, but was solid and steadfast and built to last well into the next generations. His hands were like my dad's. They both showed the wear of years of work and effort on behalf of their own family whom they provided for. My grandfathers with his blackened nails, and my father with the burn marks, scars and character which brought me such comfort and faith in him as a protector and provider.<br />
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But as I stated, this wasn't supposed to be about fathers, and especially not about their hands or my hands, or my sons' and daughters' hands. Then it just came to me, a recollection of a scriptural passage wherein the risen Savior showed his deciples the prints in His hands. Immediately I thought of what it must have been like, to see our Savior so soon after His resurrection. The amazement that it must have been to see a body of flesh and bones. To see His love for you and me, as demonstrated their by the marks that he now carried that exhibit His undying willingness to atone for us. I thought about His hands, and how they will forever show and attest to His personal sacrifice for mankind. I thought about my father. The strength in his own hands that I had aspired to as a boy. How his knuckles were scarred as a testiment to his own willingness to face the challenges of his profession and how much that meant to me. I thought of my grandfather, and his blackened nails, and how he continued to work though it must have been painful to do so. I guess I realized that I have my father's hands. That my father has his father's hands. It's not too much to believe that the pattern holds true, and that as a line of men and sons of an Almighty and loving Heavenly Father, that our hands might more closely resemble His.<br />
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I shared that today at the beginning of quorum meeting. I thought it was fitting. That here we are celebrating our own Earthly fathers and their personal sacrifice for us. The long hours, and the fitful nights. Some fathers travel, some work night shift, swing shift, some are deployed on ships for months at a time. Some fathers work oil rigs and some fathers run board meetings. But the one thing that our fathers will always show us is the love for us they have in their hands. Some will place their hands upon our heads in a blessing of comfort when we are ashamed, or afraid, or uncertain. Some of us will watch our fathers give blessings to a family with no Priesthood holder in the home. A certain action which they cannot do for themselves. Some of us will see our fathers help lift a piano, or mend a fence, or any number of manual requirements which cannot be done by their own. Each and every day, through the marks of their profession, these fathers through their experiences and challenges mark themselves and create a lasting impression upon others as to their willingness to exercise through either the Priesthood, or through the simple self-sacrifice to help lift another.<br />
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I was thinking since I got home, how thankful I am. How when I might meet the Savior, I may fall at His feet and weep and rejoice in all that He has done for me. How personal His sacrifice has become for me. How the marks in His hands are not without merit, or praise, and how thankful I am that He extends that infinite atonement to me. I hope that He takes my hand, and that as He brings me to my feet, that I can feel the marks in His hands and be counted as one who is thankful and speachless at the breadth and encompassing nature of what He has done.<br />
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I hope you have a wonderful Father's Day today. I hope you had a beautiful Sunday. I'm thankful that Derek asked me today, and I'm thankful it wasn't just a simple and easy statement pulled out at random as a scriptural thought. The Atonement and the promises have become so very real to me. They are so very personal, so appreciated, and I am forever in His debt for what I have come to know. Moreover, that He should trust me to teach and watch over His spirit children in my home, together with my lovely spouse is almost too much to fathom.<br />
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Well, I better go now, like I said, have a beautiful day, and call your Earthly father today. Then, later on, and throughout the remainder of your week, make sure you thank our Heavenly Father and His son, for the marks in His hands and the extension of His plan to us all.<br />
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I gotta go be a dad now. You take care.<br />
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All the best,<br />
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Jjonkenworthyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15189325469515955394noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49107501677617107.post-4268342637954261402012-06-06T17:57:00.002-06:002012-10-14T19:51:13.182-06:00Elk Tags and such...Hey. Yeah, it's me again. I know, you've been wondering where I disappeared to. I've been busy. No, seriously, REALLY busy. Kids have all been sick in one form or fashion and we've been averaging about 4 or 5 hours of sleep per night. I think I wrote over a month ago, so I'll put fingers to keys and let you in on some stuff.<br />
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First off, you may have heard, I promoted to Major. It was a pretty cool ceremony. My date of rank officially is the 26th of April, no special significance there, but it starts anothe clock and count-down to Lieutenant Colonel. To be honest it's a bit surreal, as I sometimes cant really believe it actually has happened as fast as it has. I guess the reality of being eligible for light colonel in three years really is quite a reality check. Josh is 12, he started passing the sacrament and of course received the Priesthood from me right after his birthday in April. It's even more crazy to believe that if he really does join the Guard, that I'll attend his graduation from Basic Training as a lieutenant colonel because that's outside of five years from now at the earliest. Wow, doesnt time fly? I mean seriously.<br />
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So, things are going really well here at Casa de Kenworthy. Stacey and I are tired because of the continued sickness making the rounds in the house, but we're so very happy to have things in our personal life settling down. I threw my name in the hat for a tour in D.C. and we'll see if I get any bites on that. It'd be nice to move back East for a three year tour and get a new outlook and lease on life as a family. <br />
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Oh yeah, I drew out for the Wasatch Mature Bull Elk muzzle loader tag this September. I'm stoked. $280 tag and I can't wait to rack up even more charges when it comes time to mount it. This is Josh's first year hunting big game, and he and dad and I all drew deer tags to use his new 30.06 out in the West Dessert. I'm going to buy him an Archery Elk tag so he can go with his grandpa Clint chasing elk, and then come help me pack out my animal a few weeks later.<br />
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Anyhow, hope you're all doing well. I dont have any angry speech today. I just finished the 300 over at the Rec Center and it took the starch right out of me. I broke their heavy bag d-ring hanger (again) and you may have heard I broke my own heavy bag in half in the garage about 15 minutes into using it. It's time to buy a nice canvas or leather one that lasts I guess. <br />
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OK, listen, I gotta go, everyone will be home shortly and I have to get ready for scouts.<br />
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All the best to you and yours,<br />
<br />
J<br />
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jonkenworthyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15189325469515955394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49107501677617107.post-80647975462115856872012-05-17T09:37:00.000-06:002012-05-17T09:37:00.676-06:00Major NewsCoffee black, cigarette, start this day, like all the rest...Man that Don Williams can really sing a tune can't he? Anyhow, I've been remiss at writing lately. Been busy you know. I have a lot to catch you up on. Let's see...hmm well my promotion to Major came through. Maybe you heard, maybe you didnt. Yeah, I'm on leave this week and I've got to coordinate a time next week to pin it on. Effective date of 26 April 2012. So, we got that goin' for us, which is nische. What else? Well you may or may not know we took a trip up to the lot this past weekend too. Hey, hold on, let me start another paragraph...<br />
<br />
OK, that's better. Yeah, so we went up to the lot on Sunday after church. I've been doin' my best to be available and in the pew whenever I can. It's part of my new agreement with the Lord. I go to church and do good things, and he keeps me outta hot water. So far so good anyhow. Anyhow, you know I'm teaching the 11 year olds. They're good kids. Josh promoted out of my class into the Young Mens' Program. He's passing the Sacrament and everything. Even went to, "Youth Standards Night" last night. Wore a tie and everything. Big accomplishment for a kid who will wear the same ugly pair of orange shorts to school eleven days in a row if you'd let him.<br />
<br />
So, we went up to the lot as I told you. Well my little solar experiment worked like a charm. My 90 watts of power panels were just pumpin' out the juice to our battery pack. Full battery after three weeks of inactivity on our part. Anyhow, ohhhhhhhhhh the best part! So the neighbors, the Neilsons, or Nelsons, or Nielsons..anyhow they have a lot a couple over from us. They came by on Tuesday and notified us they're serious about building up there, and that they're going to connect to the Fruitland water (7800 bones) and they would be willing to sell us there Young Water ($3K) So, that doesnt even require a septic connection simultaneously. So, see? Paying your tithing does pay off. <br />
<br />
So we also played a little paintball up there in the rocks. Josh, Lexi, Isabelle and I. Only, we only have two pressurized guns. So I had to use a slingshot to fire back. I totally got my butt handed to me. I have a big bruise on my forehead to prove it too. Josh is a good shot, in fact, he's a better Soldier than a fat old Major that's for sure. I have bruises all over my back and arms and everything to prove it. <br />
<br />
So anyhow, you're up to speed. I'm just doin' ma thing. Doing my best to stay outta trouble and live that virtuous life I promised ya'll I would.<br />
<br />
OK, hey I gotta run. I've got to figure out why this sprinkling system isn't firing up on valve number two. Yeah, rivetting stuff huh?<br />
<br />
OK, anyhow, I gotta run.<br />
<br />
Hugs 'n Kisses and whatnot.<br />
<br />
Jjonkenworthyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15189325469515955394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49107501677617107.post-71819912576002098022012-05-07T15:57:00.002-06:002012-05-07T15:57:37.191-06:00The Perfect Daddy...So, today I decided I would surprise Stacey and come home at lunch time and take the rest of the day off. Then I also decided, since I have 74 days of unused leave, I'd take tomorrow off as well. So, I got home around noon, after stopping at Lowe's to pick up some hardware to hang that heavy bag I told you about. Or maybe I didnt. Anyhow, the point is, I had to pick up an eye-bolt and some S hooks to hang this 80lb bag up in the garage so I could hit it. Well, so Stacey and I could both hit it. We found it, quite brand new, at the D.I. the other day when we were looking for sombreros for the Cinco de Mayo party. Anyway, so my dad meets me at home, and we hang the bag.<br />
<br />
About that time, Stacey comes out with Samuel in the stroller, and Olivia all fresh-faced and cute, and starts looking over at the Stroup's house, where there's this giant pile of topsoil/mulch and starts weeding. Well, so she sorta hints around she could use some help putting this topsoil in. So, I figure it's a great day to work in the yard, so I go up and change and start helping. Well, about the time I get the second load of soil brought over, Stacey informs me she has to leave to take Samuel to a dr's appointment, because she thinks he has a sinus infection (which he did). So, I'm left with Olivia. About forty five minutes later, after I've been in the house six times to get her a treat, or a cookie or whatever, she says she's cold, and she want some, "pink milk" which really means Nestly Quick in a sippy cup. Plus she says she's tired, and wants to watch Shaun the Sheep. Which, I tried to switch out with, "Big Papa" with Adam Sandler, but she wasnt havin' it. So, about three episodes into it, I start to dose off. Well she starts coughing, and coughing. She has post-nasal drip from whatever Sam cought from Lexi who cought it from ???. Yeah, so, here we go. Well our kids, they cant just cough, no, they have to puke too. So, I try to settle her down, and pretty soon, three volleys of chunky pink curds comes up over me, her, the bean bag, her blankey, and my brand (new) Nike golf shirt I picked up at the D.I. the other day.<br />
<br />
So, I strip her down, put her in our shower upstairs, and go outside to start collecting up rakes and shovels and all the other crap I had to drag out of the garage to hang the bag, and then start work in the flower beds. Pretty soon, well about three minutes into it, I am again startled to hear through the open front door, Olivia screaming bloody murder. So I bolt up the stairs, almost break an ankle in my ridiculous dork sandals that seemed like a good idea working in the sun, and find her up in the shower. She's screaming, because of the turds, which someone??? just left lying about in the shower immediately at her feet. So, she's screaming and screaming, coughing, and now poopy, and I grab a towel to get her out.<br />
<br />
So, she's standing there, telling me all about the poop, while I pick it up with some toilet paper. So, I commence picking up the poop, and send her away onto the bed. When I return to the bed, she's shivering under the running fan. I turn it off, and go get some wipes and a diaper, and...wouldnt you know it? poop on the towel. So the towel goes in the dirty clothes, and I put a diaper on her, and start walking down the hall with her, to have her pick out some new clothes. Only, she's walking shuffle steps down the hall and I cant get her to speed up or find any reason to stop being cold. So, I try to move around her in the door, but the dirty clothes hamper, along with the nightlight (on) and the five giant princess paint your face laboratories are in the way. Along with, the five, yes 5, giant tubs of clothes, that my loving wife brought up to take up any available floor space that might be left in the kids room. So, my daughter, the impossed hoarder, now can't get to her dresser, in the room she shares with her sister, because we cant move or get around her. So, I start getting pissed at this point. I go over to her drawer, pull it out, and the mutha....puss...bucketin' drawer bottom falls out. This fiber-board dresser we have, has never worked correctly once, so I leave her in the room, NOT looking through her clothes, determined I'm going to fix this ONE thing before I find one more thing wrong. Oh, I neglected to tell you that in the bathroom, we have no water stop, because I haven't had a chance to replace the one that rusted through. So, who knows what's down in the P trap right now....<br />
<br />
Where was I??? Oh, so, anyhow, I go down stairs, three stairs at a time, and out to the garage determined to fix this drawer and the one thing in my life which I might even be able to take control and actually fix. So, in rummaging through my tool chest, I have now determined, that in addition to a tape measure, a good set of standard screw drivers, and a 1/4 socket driver and adapter, I am NOW short a hammer. So, I start rummaging through the tool box on my truck and find a hammer. BACK to the drawer, and pull the 1/4 flimsy bottom out and go looking for my wood glue. WHICH, miraculously, I find! So I twist the top on the glue, and try to get it out, only it's sealed shut. So I take the top off, start jabbing the inside of it out with a phillips screw driver (the ONE I COULD find) and to no avail. So I take the screw driver, slop on as carefully as I can this wood glue into the groove of the sides, back and bottom of the drawer (and my pants, my left hand, my shirt (which has pink puke on it) and go looking for the three little baby girl nails that obviously tore through the last time. I reposition the nails, slop it all back togther, somehow avoid crushing the drawer out of sheer frustration, and now it sits in the garage drying, because the whole inside back of the drawer is covered in wood glue, which should be dry around eight pm tonight. <br />
<br />
Oh, I neglected to tell you, that the five boxes of clothes that came out of the basement three weeks ago, yeah, I hurled those sunsabeaches over the railing onto the floor and into the middle of the front room. Yeah, those eithe go to the D.I., or they go back into the basement, but I'll be damned if I'm going to hear someone frustrated at the kids the next six weeks because they wont pick up their cluttered rooms.<br />
<br />
Anyhow, Stacey just showed up with my medication. A nice 44 oz soda full of Diet Luv. Anyhow, I gotta go be nice now and help pick up the three foot tall pile of clothes I made before I can rant and complain again. You know, part of the solution, and not part of the problem and all.<br />
<br />
Anyhow, there you have it. I'm home for three hours, and I'm already the worst dad that my kids ever had. Sam's back from the dr., he has a sinus infection and it's moving down into his lungs. So, it seems that my entire full day off tomorrow, may just be equally stellar. Right now, I'm planning on getting the ATV running, put two new tires on the adult bikes we were given, put the winter stuff in the shed, and if all works out, maybe even exercise. I'll give you ten to one I get one tire on, and make three trips to Napa to get the four wheeler not working before I have more to tell you.<br />
<br />
Anyhow, I gotta go. Love and hugs and all that.<br />
<br />
Worst dad (and husband) ever,<br />
<br />
Jjonkenworthyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15189325469515955394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49107501677617107.post-67790879574482779532012-04-29T11:46:00.000-06:002012-04-29T14:55:09.359-06:00Hey there.Hey kid. Long time no see huh? I'm home today for a couple of hours. It's a Sunday and Lexi's not feeling well and we left her home from church. During Sacrament meeting Isabelle starting it too and so I offered to jump on that grenade and bring them home. What a beautiful Sunday too. The sun is shining out there and it's just the perfect temperature with a slight breeze. I enjoyed Sacrament today. The topic was on recognizing our blessings and enjoying them. It's been a real theme throughout our lives the past couple of weeks. Seems that someone upstairs is intent on hammering the idea home to us. <br />
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So here I am, listening to Miranda Lambert on one tab and typing on this here other-en. You think I'd learn wouldnt you? Miranda's sad songs are just that, sad. But they evoke such feeling you know? Right now she's on about a house that she used to live in. She already almost made me cry at the corners with someone that died and prancin' around in the forest with a mystical horse figure. Yeah, it's all very metaphorical, but even a dumby like me could pick out what she was after. Anyhow, so I've been thinking a lot this past week about my own personal blessings. Sometimes blessings that are understated and unappreciated. I guess I'm a bit like a spoiled child at times. I can't see that things that I've really wanted, and figured I'd worked so hard for, and that would really be a blessing, well when they dont come true it can be a real setback at times. But I'm learning. As I told you, I'm pretty dense at times. Oh, I can pick right up on a comedic que, I can run that baby right into the ground at times. But where I need a little help is in the faith department at times. <br />
<br />
I tell you what though. I'm really thankful for the things I've learned over the past few years. I feel like my own personal challenges, as well as our family challenges, have really given me a lot of insight. I now understand things about how our Heavenly Father sometimes blesses us. Too often he's taught me personally through a witholding of what I want most. I've also seen in others some of my own challenges. I've tried to help at times, tried to convey the things I've learned, and had them fall on deaf ears. I've outlines a map, charted a course and tried to share my own challenges in hopes that it would convince them. You know what? I see from the Lord's side now how that must be to want so badly to spare someone that heartache, that grief. I know that too often He must have personally wondered and ached for me to listen, and I just wouldnt. Mostly because I'm one that has to drink from the bitter cup to really know for myself. <br />
<br />
You know, I've figured out a lot about myself too. Turns out, I'm a little crazy. No, I knew you knew that as well. But I've felt at times like I was the only one in the world that got it, and therefore the world had gone crazy. Then I'd seen crazy in others and figured they'd get it too, and now I'm thinking, that I just have some unique personal issues or insight that help me to inherently understand things I can do nothing about. I'm probably making no sense at all here, that's part of the crazy part. See, I get things that others dont see. It's kind of like that movie with Mel Gibson where he's got stickies and newspapers all over his apartment and lines and highlighters and yeller stickies and stuff all over tying it all together. Then that chick with the giant forehead and the huge teeth with the red hair? What's her name? Pretty woman? Yeah, anyhow she visits his apartment and realizes he's a tad crazy but one of his political theories is actually true. Anyhow, horrible allusion there, but if you were a little crazy you'd get it. So anyhow, what I'm saying is, I get it. I get how my Heavenly Father shows his love for me at times. I see the inherent beauty in a tragic and horrible country song, just the same as I see it in the first Crocus flower in the Spring. I see in this world the raging runoff and the brisk cool mountain streams. I see the broken and disheveled. I see the penitent heart and feel their pain. I also see the proud and the wicked, and identify with their plight, in fact, probably too often. Hold on, Sarah Evans is getting a little bit stronger, I have to pause this so I can focus. <br />
<br />
Where was I? Oh yeah, so, I guess I sometimes wonder why I have been given this insight. You know as I sit in Sacrament, watching Josh hold and feed Samuel, holding Isabelle and having her hug me, realizing all I've been blessed with...my wonderful and beautiful wife. It's a lot to take in you know? I wonder why the Lord has given me this insight. I wonder if I'm unique, or if everyone gets it, and is just quiet about it. I sometimes think that everyone's crazy, and simultaneously maybe I'm the only one. Well whatever, I don think I really captured what I meant to say. I think all I'm trying to get across is how thankful I am for God's plan for me. I'm thankful he's given me these challenges. I'm amazed at what he's required of me. I'm amazed at the things I've come to know but can do nothing about. I've come to realize that maybe how some of our church leaders must feel. I'm guessing that might be part of what the Savior feels. It's just the smallest bit of empathy I've learned from Him. I feel the hurt, I know the pain. I feel the extremes of happiness and joy and exasperation and pleadings of a parent taken to the extreme. <br />
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What an amazing world and life we have before us. To cram all of this opportunity and expense into one short life of 80 years. Incredible. Sometimes I feel like I've learned so much and other times I feel like I'll never learn what I'm supposed to with only 40 years left. Sometimes I think I've crested over, and I feel some of the undertanding I saw in my father and grandfather. I feel like I know some of that personal pain and understanding I saw in their eyes when they wanted more for me and I wouldnt listen. I also imagine I'm gaining that same twinkle and misting at the corners I saw when they knew I was going the right way and would figure it out soon enough. <br />
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Wow this is perfect, Youtube, just selected, "What hurts the Most" by Rascal Flatts. I guess that's what I'm getting at, that bitter-sweet knowledge you get when it's too late to affect it. That's what I'm getting at. So, now that begs the question, if you have a poet's soul, what do you now do with it? How do you use it for good? Will anyone listen? What's God's plan for your individual talents, for the things you've learned and that pain you've swam through, that relief that you've felt at forgiveness and the memory that remains? I guess that's part of what grandpa's know huh? Why they look at you the way they do. That, "I'd tell you, but you wouldnt listen anyway." that you recall in their countenance. <br />
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Well, hey listen, I gotta go check on Lexi and Isabelle. So you have a wonderful day, and week if I dont get around to it again. Keep doin' what you're doin, keep working towards being all you can be and accepting the, "No's" and looking for the deeper meaning and what you're supposed to learn from them. Dont be afraid to notice the budding trees, and feel His work in the sunshine that accompanies your labors. Stop every once in a while and take a bearing and see what He's done for you. Those things you can't quantify, but you feel in your heart were individual and important to you. Then, instead of moving on, make sure you acknowledge them and tell him how much you appreciate not only the happiness, but the heartache that helped you become what you are today. <br />
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Anyhow, I gotta go. <br />
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All the best to you and yours. <br />
<br />
Jjonkenworthyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15189325469515955394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49107501677617107.post-13932535475218636192012-04-27T12:21:00.002-06:002012-04-27T12:21:19.677-06:00M&M's and Timmy TimeAlright. Here's my report thus far on my day off. So I got up and made the traditional Friday morning breakfast, complete with papas and juevos and ham. You know, I just love over-easy eggs. Is there anything better than a couple of peices of home-made bread toast with real butter and an over-easy sobre el? Nah, not much. Nothing without a pulse anyhow. So, today of course I made breakfast for Stacey and the kids. Stacey as I told you went and sub-ed at the preschool for a half day today. Dont ask me why, we're just gonna get 1099ed at the end of the year and pay it all back anyhow. But, Stacey agreed to do it, and it makes her feel like she's helping out. Plus I think she gets tired of dealing with her own five kids, so why not try and wrangle 20 of someone elses' right? Yeah, chick logic.
So, anyhow, then from there it took me 45 minutes to get everyone out the door, (Sam, Olivia and me) complete with sweaters, three diaper changes (I'm not wearing Depends quite yet so do the math there) and then find some socks and blah blah blah yada yada yada. Anyhow, we walked from the house down to the little park and on over to the Mecca to get some Diet Luv for the day. I figured by the time I carried Olivia halfway there and back on my shoulders pushing a stroller and lugging a 44 oz anchor, I'd earned it. Anyhow, it's Timmy Time now at the house, and Livy is suckin' down M&M's on the bean bag and I'm sure I'll be explaining the chocolate stains to my better half within the hour. So, all in all, a great start to the weekend.
I'm about out of news from here, so you just keep your head down and your powder dry.
All the best to you and yours,
Jjonkenworthyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15189325469515955394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49107501677617107.post-36241822076733831542012-04-26T17:13:00.001-06:002012-04-26T17:13:29.524-06:00Checking in.Hi, how are you? Haven't seen you for a while. I have to make this short and sweet. I'm off to yet another social engagement this evening. This one is a choir recital for the girls. Yesterday night was scouts, and Tuesday night was the dance recital for Lexi. Oh, and tomorrow Stacey teaches pre-school in the morning, so I'm not even sure I'm going to get a run in, unless it's later on in the heat of the day.
Anyhow, I just wanted to check in, let you know I'm alive and kickin. Nothing really to report. Just been working hard at the new gig, trying to fit in with the new staff I'm working with. Other than that, things are going along hunky-dory. I've been trying to clean up my posts on facebook lately and bring a more positive message, on my page as well as on other's. Sometimes I do really well, and other times I get sucked in, but I'm a work in progress as we're all aware. I think tomorrow, if I get time, I'm going to do that little exercise where you pen your own eulogy? You ever heard of that? Anyhow, it's supposed to focus you on what kind of things you want people to remember you by as well as remind you about what direction you're currently heading. It seems a tad presumptuous, so I'm not sure I'm going to post it, but I think I'll go through the exercise anyhow to see if that wont help me a little in my current plateau of personal expansion of light and learning. Anyhow, that sounded nice but a tad cheesey.
So, I guess I better get going, I'm going to go play with the girls in the front yard while Stacey teaches her single piano lesson. You know I miss each and everyone of you and wish we could have this conversation face to face over a couple of mushroom n' swiss' but, it is what it is. Life is what happens while you're busy makin' plans.
Anyhow, all the best to you and yours.
Jjonkenworthyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15189325469515955394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49107501677617107.post-71154643287007525092012-04-14T15:27:00.000-06:002012-10-14T19:52:12.930-06:00Pink Milk and Pinkalicious...Hey there. Yeah, I know, it's been a while. I just got back into town a couple of hours ago from a campout with Josh. Oh, you probably didnt know this, but I got called to be an 11 year old Primary teacher, as well as the 11 Scout leader along with Chad, my co-hort in crime. Anyhow, we went out to Five Mile Pass out near Cedar Fort, Utah and had a pretty good over-nighter with Josh and his partner in crime, Carter. So, forgive me, I'm a little tired, my punctuation and grammar may not be up to par.<br />
<br />
So, yeah, listen, Friday was Josh's birthday. He turned twelve, so tomorrow he's going to graduate out of my class and be ordained a Deacon. I'll be doing the ordaining, so that's pretty cool. I've never given anyone else the Priesthood before, so it should be an emotional day for all involved. Josh and I had an interview together last Wednesday with the Bishop and I was actually very impressed with Josh's answers to some of the interview questions. It's not a requirement that a parent be involved in the interview, but when I was invited in, I figure what the heck you know?<br />
<br />
So, tomorrow we got that going on. It should be fun. Then in the afternoon we'll have inlaws and outlaws over for brownies and ice cream for Josh's family birthday. Which, I'm not sure why, but apparently kids these days need multiple birthday parties. One for friends, one for family, one at school, and I guess one at church. Yeah, he took donuts on Friday to get the other kids in the public school system wired so that they can't learn and the Japanese keep on kickin' our trash. Whatever. I'm happy for the little man and all that he's growing up to be. It's quite a contrast between Sam and Josh. Josh, I realized will be driving in four short years, and Sam hasnt even realized that it's an option for him.<br />
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You know, that reminds me. Those two boys. Vastly different in ways, and so similar in others. Sam is so easy-going. Josh was an incredibly difficult baby and I'm pretty sure we didnt sleep for three years straight. In fact I know it, because Lexi came along quite unexpectedly 18 months after his arrival and spoiled the whole idea of ever sleeping again. We started planning babies after that point, and gave ourselves a bit of a reprieve before adding Olivia. Whom, as it turns out, is absolutely out of control. She's insane I tell you. Has these dark brown burning little eyes and this blonde hair and an angelic face but a demonic demeanor. Oh yeah, I know, she's a child of God alright, but she's Hell on Wheels I tell ya. She wakes up pissed off and goes to bed quite against her dominant and agressive will. She screams out in the middle of the night, "MY BA! MY BAHHHHHH! OH NO MY BAH!!!" which really is a signal to your's truly that I've way over-slept since putting her down at 11:19 and now, at 3:38, it's apparently time for, "Pink Milk" which really is code for Strawberry Nesquick. Yeah, I know, I'm a horrible parent. I could give two shits right about now. I just want to sleep again through a solid night some day.<br />
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Oh, yeah, so about that milk, yeah, I realize I'm coating her perfect little teeth with sugar, yep, you go right ahead and judge me. I dare ya. You've never had five kids before. You dont know your arse from a hole in the ground. So she rots her teeth out? It's not like she doesnt stand to inherit a brand spankin' new set already. Oh, and you and your dentist (you know who you are) can also try to convince me it weakens the bones in the jaw and blah blah blah blah. Yeah, dude, seriously, after 12 years of not sleeping, you learn to make sacrifices ok? Dont you judge me. It's not like the other four wont have perfect teeth. This is Olivia's penance for climbing on anything vertical, horizontal, or otherwise the moment you turn around. This is her payback for willfullly walking over to the fridge, filling up a cup with water, and then walking over and proudly dumping it all over the floor, couch, heat register, carpet or whatever, MOMENTS after you just spanked her and set her on the stairs for the same exact reason. The one way I can get her to sleep is to lay down beside her and her pink milk and read her, "Pinkalicious" which, to be honest, paints and entirely different vision in my head. But you know how I am about that sort of thing. I'm not even a work in progress anymore, I'm just bad news.<br />
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OK, so I lost my train of thought, I got on a rant and forgot. Where were we? So, oh yeah, so Josh is going to get the Priesthood, I'm stoked, mom's in shock, yada yada yada. It's a bit of a paradym shift (is that spelled right???) to know that he's going to be wearing a white shirt and tie and passing sacrament, instead of getting thumped with my fist while my arm is around my wife sitting in the pew.<br />
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So, what else? Yeah, things are going along well. I'm keeping up with all my personal goals with the exception of piano. It's not that I dont want to, it's that life conspires to keep me in the house for only about 2 hours a night, and 4/5 of that is spent mopping up pink milk, or picking up socks, stirring the goulash or whatever before the next requirement for the evening kicks in. Dont get me wrong, I'm quite accepting of it. Plus, the busier I am, the less I get into trouble. But you all knew that about me anyhow.<br />
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Anyhow, I better go. Olivia is going on and on and she's probably starving for mac and cheese or something. I gave her some oreo substitutes (the cheap ones) to break open, suck the frosting out and discard the soggy cookies) on the stairs before I came up to pen this, and I'm sure the house is in a total disarray because we left everyone in charge of everyone else for twelve minutes.<br />
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Anyhow, I gotta run. All the best to you and yours. Wiggle wiggle wiggle and all that.<br />
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Jon Out.jonkenworthyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15189325469515955394noreply@blogger.com0