Sometimes a Melody, Sounds like a Memory... (UNCLASSIFIED)

Classification: UNCLASSIFIED
Caveats: FOUO

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.


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.


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.


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.


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.


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.
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?

.Springsteen.


You take care, I'm going to fake it a few more hours, have lunch, and fake it again till end of exercise.
All the best Kids,


J


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.



Classification: UNCLASSIFIED
Caveats: FOUO

Summer 2013 Update...

Summer Update

    OK, let's see now…where…did we leave off?  Ah yes.  So let me just do a little outline here to ensure that we cover most everything I planned on boring you to death with:

1)  Cattle on Camp Williams

3)  Log cutting for the Pergola, and Bunkhouse projects

2) Septic System at the lot…no wait, switch the order of 2 and 3 there. The chicken came first, not the egg.  The egg is STILL a little miffed the chicken rolled over and went to sleep…where were we?

4) Boat and ATV rides this Summer

5) Santa Fe, NM

6)  Random Thoughts…

    OK, so here's the deal.  We brought some cattle on Camp Williams this year.  'Bout five hundred tuther 'em.  Well, why am I writing about this??? Well, mostly because, "THEY" said it couldn't be done.  See, cattle on Camp is no new thing.  The last time we had them out was over a decade ago though.  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.  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.  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?

    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.  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.  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. 

    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.  So, I'm no environmentalist, but cattle that eat JUST grass, and leave the sacred deer-habitat Utah Sagebrush, cant be much worse right?  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. 

    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.  Then I axed them what would keep us from re-bidding a similar contract along our Southern boundary and adding two words, "…OR  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.  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.  And oh uh, it looks GOOOOD.  There's a complete void of fine fuels where once there was cows, and where there a wasn't –en.

    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.  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.  Oh, RESOUNDING coup! I was extactic.  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.  Turns out, it was just plain a kick-ass success.  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.  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. 

 

    OK, next you'll see some pictures of a couple of log projects I started this Summer.  One is a log Pergola.  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.  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.  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.  Anyhow, with a little bit of imagination you can see what we plan on doing.  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.

    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.  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.  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. 

 

    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.  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.  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.  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. 

    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^th this year.  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^th with Stacey's mom and pop (not pictured here).  They are good people and loaned us a couple of ATV's to go with them which was really nice to say the least.

 

    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.  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.  Pretty cool, but they're going to sell it, and I'm about $2 million shy of being able to purchase it.  Bummer. 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.  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. 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.  All the best to you and your's.

 

J

Love's Gonna Live Here Again...

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.

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.

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).

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.

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.

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.

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.

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. 

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. 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.

 

All the best.

 

J