Dan Vs. Nature Scoreboard

Dan: 0, Nature: 1






Dan: 1, Nature: 1

Dan: 2, Nature: 1

hallelujah!

I'm so cold-blooded, I can shoot my favorite dog without blinking if it needs done, but I thought this was so cool that I almost got choked up. I doubt that 1 out of 10 people there were trying to praise God, but I just thought it was so awesome that God was being praised and glorified, whether their audience wanted to hear it or not!

Maybe clicking this link will work better than the embedded video below.

on the merits of winter

An early Sunday morning several weeks ago we had our "first-frost" of this year (an event at my house) I took my boys outside, booted but shirtless; we stood warming in the sun in the midst of the cold and breathed out “smoke” and stood quietly and still while watching the sunlight steam frost off of green garden fencing and chicken shed roofs. I told my boys that the first "first-frost" I remember was on my birthday, and on a Sunday as well, and I recollect being so amazed at the brightness and stillness of the air, piercing my cheeks as I made quick, giant steps through the breaking grass to stay next to my daddy while checking on cattle before church. It seemed to me the most extravagant Birthday present from a most benevolent Creator that I could not have even imagined.


At the risk of being over-prosy or even waxing poetic, I would like to write a little about why I disagree with people who dislike Winter. I wonder if it is a privilege of our modern times to view Winter as merely an inconvenience to our daily and uninterrupted lives; where we must go from a climate controlled house to climate controlled car that was maybe 10 or 20 degrees cooler than we would prefer it, at first anyway, because our attached garage has no climate control. Then, on top of that, we must suffer through listening to the crunch of our climate controlled 4 wheel drive vehicles drive over the 1/2” snow that the road grader left on the streets. As if all of that wasn't enough, we have to suffer the indignity of being stuck in our climate controlled homes after 5:30, when it gets dark; thereby missing our golf games, so we happily plop in front of the glowing image box and watch whatever those more intelligent folks 1500 miles away decided last season that would be good and appropriate for us to see this winter.


Maybe I have it all wrong, maybe I am the one benefiting from our technology enabling me to enjoy winter. But the thing that I enjoy about it isn't the comfort or the discomfort (Wife claims that I am impervious to both) but that it is a whole different lifestyle. It is one that requires forethought, planning, preparation. This I enjoy; it is a challenge, Winter tests the mettle of which I am made, and it exhilarates me to rise to that challenge. Animals need special care in the winter. Double check tires on vehicles, got lots of tread left? What do I have to put in the back of my truck for weight, and how will I get it in there? We heat with 99% wood heat; in order to do it well, I have to plan for next winter this year. Often it is dark by the time I get home, if I don't spend my weekend productively, I bring firewood into the house in the dark. Also, I plan what projects I will do to keep me occupied in the long inside evenings.


It isn't that I am opposed to climate control in homes (I have AC) or am opposed to 4-wheel drive vehicles (I own 2) or that I hate golf (would love to learn), it is just that it seems a little petty (in our world without TB, Measles, Polio, where we have EASY access to antibiotics, and virtually unlimited clean hot and cold water at our fingertips) to complain about the cold when little more than 100 years ago, the majority of people were either hand cutting their own firewood or dragging coal through their house in order to keep just part of their homes warm. It wasn't just an inconvenience, it was an complete and utter lifestyle change; not that they enjoyed it any more than those today that dislike it, but at least they had a legitimate reason for disliking it.

But think of it- hasn't it been a long, long time since a country with a Mediterranean climate was truly a "world power"? Doesn't it seem that the northern countries (except for Canada, who we are hard pressed to think of at all) have historically proven their worth by their industriousness? I remember reading in my world geography book that so many tropical countries suffer from a term I think they referred to as "Sustenance Affluence Living"; where the climate was so good, that living was so easy with fresh fruit all year around, that there was not much need for work to stay alive, and so in these modern times, without much industry, their main source of financial income for the whole country is remittances from ex-pat emigres.

Not that most people care about what I like, but I love the initial relief that comes with October and November. It's as if I just can't absorb enough cold-ness into me even though I will get chilled, I still hunger for it after dry July, and moist August, when I can never truly dry off, then sneezy September. I love it when working hard and losing track of time, looking up into the steel-grey sky where there is no sign of sun, and realizing you have no way of telling by sun or by temperature whether it is morning or afternoon. It thrills my blood to feel the tension in the sky, heavy, low and near bursting with icy moisture and arctic air sent down, again, to test that mettle of which I am made. It is one of man's oldest adversaries, Man vs. Nature. Nature isn't our mother, benevolent and kind; it is a wild and powerful force and is to be reckoned with.

I enjoy counting 5 gallon containers of gas, figuring how long I could run the generator to sustain my house without any electricity like we did 2 years ago after the ice storm. I enjoy the opportunity to feel like a producer rather than just a consumer as I am told I am by the television and textbooks. I heartily enjoy literally bringing home the bacon, not just that I earned, but that I raised! I enjoy butchering chickens, raising food in my garden, more than enough for us; in a good year, more than my neighbors want; feed it to the pigs! Turn it into bacon! I enjoy directly providing heat for my home; I feel like I am winning when Wife is uncomfortably warm in our house and it is 5 degrees outside, never mind that I am miserably hot! These things that I was indirectly taught that men are to do: provide food and shelter for family, I enjoy doing them to excess. My wife gets frustrated at the volume of meat we accumulate sometimes, that is not a bad problem to have, as I see it. We've never throw it away yet! I enjoy the thought of driving on icy roads, of beating the snowplow on the way to town, or best of all, being stuck and stranded at home without power after all my best efforts to get out, stuck where I most like to be, with the people I most like to be with.

But anyway, all I'm trying to say to you winter haters, is this: It is a challenge, but an exhilarating one! Here's hoping this winter is a nasty one!

adventures of GutterMan

So I tried to email this photo unsuccessfully to several people yesterday from my phone, much to the confusion of many people. Anyway, the picture doesnt do it justice, we are 35 to 40 feet in the air and Dodge City Street Dept were good enough to shut down the street for us so that we could go up and over the power lines, which the power company was good enough to shut down for us as well. As hilly as Dodge City is, we were able to see the tops of grain elevators from this point

For those of you who know him, that is "Good-Man-Fearless-Driver-Downspout-Crasher" (native american name) Clifford Nininger in the basket, but that is another story...

on sin nature, and dont pet the wet cats.

While the 3 older kids and wifey are at NBS, (Nightly Bible School, as they have to do it nowadays, apparently-grrrrr) I stayed at home with Stu-Jack. In order to alleviate some of the pain of being left behind that I can sympathize with since I am a "youngest" as well, I kinda switched it around on him and told him that we were going to banish everybody except the 2 coolest members of the family so that just Stu and I can hang out. He thought that was pretty cool and we did the obvious things that Man and Boy do together, eat ice cream, (Downstairs, even! Whoa!), sit at the table without our shirts, slop hogs, chase chickens, look for cats for Stu to pee on, watch Cowboy Pooh, turn the music up really loud and dance, and all the other normal stuff dads do with their boys. (I guess)

Mostly, though, we did whatever Stu wanted. Whenever he expressed himself, I just said "Whatever you want- today is Stu-Day!" and he was pretty impressed. At first it was very foreign to him, being the natural humble youngest child that he is, used to never getting anything you want and having to scrap for anything you do get, whether by sheer and sudden intensity of all the force his little body can muster against larger and more selfish older siblings (naturally), or by natural youngest-born charms. But, it only took him about an hour and a half before he fully realized the implications about his new found position in the universe, made evident by his yelling for me while he was in the bath. I came in at his perpetual insistence and asked His Nibs what he needed. He informed me he needed another toy, so asked him what toy he required. In reply, he pointed to a toy just out of his reach on the ledge of the other side of the bath. THAT was the end of Stu-Day.

When Wifey got home from VBS, everyone came in the house except Isaiah, so I went towards the back door to find him. Wifey beckons me over to the window to watch something and there he was, trying to pee on a cat. I stuck my head out the door and asked him if he had any luck. His quiet pride in his shy way showed through when gave his little smile and said: "they are pretty quick, but sometimes if you are fast, you can get them a little bit". I am very proud of my boy. I am proud of his modesty, I am proud of his hunter-spirit, and I am proud of his aim.

Disclaimer:
Just as a side-note, I would like to say that I do not pee on my cats, and as far as I remember have never told them too, but I exercise discernment when considering petting the wet ones...

Some stuff is too gross to feed to the pigs; So I ate it...

Last week good friend, neighbor, renowned culinary artist, and quite intrepid food taster, Gaylord, was at my house and we happened to be wandering through the garden when he spotted the disgusting pus-looking fungus stuff growing out of the top of the husks of corn. Not just growing, but BURSTING forth out of. He made a comment similar to how lucky I was to have that because it was worth quite a bit of money if sold for food.





I was a little dubious at first, not because I don't typically believe Gaylord, but mostly because I couldn't imagine anyone actually eating it. But if anyone would know something as obscure as that, it would be him. (Did you know that you could eat Queen Anne's Lace? I didn't, but now I believe him) And as my curiousity grew, so did my internet searches, and I disovered one of two things; either he was right and people do eat it or he is the master of practical jokes and went to a lot of trouble to prank me, because there is actually a lot about it on the internet. Often called "Mexican Truffles", they are basically a mushroom that feeds off of the corn. But dont take my word for it; check it out for yourself.
Remarkably, I couldn't make any of my family try it out with me, execpt an unwilling Wifey. Grace's remark as she was staring at it in horror was: "It kinda makes me shiver when I look at it". Here's some more pictures:



After eating it, I have to say, the looks of it and the name of it (according to wiki it translates into something roughly "raven poop") are the most defining things. It mostly tasted like slightly musty sweet corn, with a lot of jalepeno, to help my digestion, of course. It was mostly unremarkible in taste; my only regret about this cooking experience is that Gaylord is working nights and I never know when I can call him up and have him try something. You should have tasted what he did with a huge snapper-turtle I caught last month!

on my restlessness

After the wind blew the end wall out of the shed, I found myself milling about aimlessly and restlessly while the insurance company decided what to do about my shed. One thing that Wifey hates is aimlessness; so she aimed me in the direction of the backyard. She had been talking about a patio area next to the house for some time now, and so we grabbed our chance one weekend. Here is a series of pictures showing progression, starting with the "before" picture:

First batch- Go, Mama, GO!! Look at those muscles!!

I got the easier, but more frustrating job! "MORE MUD!!!!"

And, finished product. Turned out alright for a couple of home-owners, I thought.

And here is a picture of Brynn's mosaic artwork made of 100% post-consumer, recycled dishes that her and her mom have been saving for years. The "stash" of broken dishes ran out and she had me stopping at Good-Wills and garages sales looking for just that right color. She is actually much nearer to completion now, but hasnt had much of a chance to do it this weekend, on account of the 9" total of rain that we have had this weekend. She complains about the tedium of the white.

Then, the kids have been pestering me to building them a tree house or something; so I opted for the "something". I told them when they finished playing on that level, I would build them another one, then another one.



And then, Stu-Jack and I decided that even us big boys needed a nap every now and again!!!

new family members!!!

Let me introduce to you Wilbur and Olivia, our new family-members/pets/food-source. I recently saw at the local Kroger store that you can buy up to 4 (if I remember correctly) life/health insurance policies for your pets. When the young fella behind the counter saw me reading it as Wifey was paying for our groceries, he piped right up and informed me with a wink that "Hey, you need that insurance, 'cause animals are people, too!" I just thought that cheeky bit of sarcastic advice was pretty funny coming from a 14 year old boy (unsolicited, I might add) behind the counter; maybe the world isn't necessarily going to fill up with panty-waisted mama's boys, after all. I know a few youths that give me hope, as well. :) But I do wonder what the insurance adjuster would say if when he asked you the "reason for loss" you replied "Bacon".

In other news, here is one that is a bit of a blow. Friday morning around 1:00 am, we had a bit of a blow (heh) here at the house. The careful observer will notice in above picture that the East end of our shed is neatly wrapped over our swing set. Even though the wind was almost directly out of the south, the east end of my uncompleted shed blew out and landed directly on our swing set. The whole shed is wracked, or twisted somewhat. My only consolation is that my swing set is still standing. I actually think there may have been some smallish tornado stuff going on because I had several little trees get broken over, and one blown the north, and another to the south. Here is a closer look at it. Notice the total lack of the first truss on end. It snapped off

the end wall posts at ground level and delaminated the corner posts.

We woke up from the noise of the wind sounding like someone laid railroad tracks right up to the house, and Brynn remembered another precious family member; a geranium on the front porch (I wonder if Kroger has plant insurance available? hmmmm) I couldn't hardly be stirred of course so she goes out to save the helpless little bugger. I could feel the air "pulsing" or pressurizing into the house because the door was open. After several minutes of this, I finally dragged myself out of bed to see what was happening. I came out to see Brynn panting, out of breath and shaking, next to the door. She had been trying with all her might to pull the door shut for about two minutes. She had pulling long enough and hard enough that she has blisters and cuts on her hand from the handle, if that gives any idea about the strength of the wind. Anyway, praise God that there was no damage to the house and nobody was hurt! It would be much more inconvenient to live in a half finished shed while rebuilding the house, rather than living in the house while rebuilding the half finished shed.

1st day of spring, 2010

So here is what the first day of spring, 2010 looks like out our back door:


All that snow, plus the 30 mph wind inspired me to finish up a few details of inside projects that I've been putting off for a while, which also inspired me to take a couple pictures in order to show the (pretty much) completed project discussed in a previous post. While I would ordinarily balk at working down in the basement on the first day of spring, when I've got potatoes and stuff to be planted, today it just seemed like a good idea!





This round little "reading nook" was a fun project; notice the round, custom-made seat cushion Wife made for it.

we dont have cable TV...

You see, we don't have cable TV; so out here we have to just make our own fun, instead of watching other people having fun. I happened to be getting our garden ready to till with the weed-burner (necessary because of more of my slothfulness) when I just happened to discover a little fun fact about last summer's dried and brittle gourds:


Yup; we are that Redneck! You noticed the subtle background music didn't you? It is really too bad the video didn't do the audio justice. The mike picked much, much more of the weed burner rather than the explosion. Brynn said she could hear it from inside the closed house quite well. When I was right next to it, it sounded like a rifle shot!!!
Later, one of my children made the mistake of asking why the gourds did that; boy were they sorry later! Anytime a Dad can incorporate teaching their kid something with blowing something up... watch out!
When I was growing up, I was wary of asking my dad questions about how things worked. He was all together too glad to explain it- all of it; in detail that could last for most of the day! As I got a little older,I did finally see the humor in asking leading questions when my siblings were around and would be willing to suffer the long hours of "lectures" just to see the misfortune of my older siblings while in the car; it was even worth the dirty looks, pinches, and sometimes punches I would receive from them. I see the same thing happening in my own kids when their eyes instantly glaze over as I begin talking about heat expanding molecules in pressurized compartments. Homeschooling does give me a new perspective on being willing to explain stuff to them, because without realizing it, I think that I often thought "Oh well, some teacher will explain that to them someday." It takes a bit of that "buffer" away, when you are solely (well dually) responsible for a child's education. But I'm sure that it will give them something to blog about when they are adults...
I am quite proud of what an obviously good job Brynn is doing homeschooling. I say obvious, but I guess I was more like oblivious because I am not really part of their actual formal education process, just more like the administrative discipline guy. But I needed some help holding the "dumb" end of the tape measure when I laid out the pig pen last week, and so Gracie volunteered. She seemed a likely and willing lass, so we put in some rough stakes ,then we came inside with our measurements, I started drawing out the pictures, and we commenced to figure out square footage's, and then how to go backwards and figure out how we could maximize the square footage by changing the shape of the pigpen and using the same amount of linear footage of hog panels.
I was quite shocked to see how much of this that she already knew! And, how quickly she picked up on what I did have to explain to her. I realized pretty quickly that, less whatever people skills I may have acquired over the 27 years I have on her, she could do my job! And my last job as well! (commercial roofing) I just about was blown away, and she is only 8! well at least until tomorrow, Brynn tells me. Anyway, hats off to the kids, and especially Brynn, for a bang up good job on all that! I know it is quite frustrating; I hear about that, but I guess my wife, being who she is, doesn't tell me so much about the successes.
Anyway, anytime any body feels the urge to blow up a gourd, come on out, I've still got plenty!

'49 international harvester

A collection: defined by Websters as "2: a : something collected; especially : an accumulation of objects gathered for study, comparison, or exhibition or as a hobby" Collections are a funny thing; as they can start inadvertently, if someone hears that you like say, for example, little pink stuffed bunnies, or perhaps cast iron elephants, then when it is time for gift giving (birthday, Christmas, etc) then that's what springs to mind. This continues until you are swimming in little pink stuffed bunnies, or perhaps cast iron elephants.
So, as it happens, I am the proud (really, truly) owner of not 1, but 2 1949 KB-5 International Harvester trucks. The first one was my wife's Grampa Harry's (which actually made it to the Royal Gorge and back) and the more recent was my own Grandad's (of which I'm fairly certain didn't ever make it to the Royal Gorge).
But anyway this first one was a source of fun and even a blog, because it had absolutely ZERO brakes, and now it does! Here's a picture:

Its a pretty hot little truck, huh? My Grandad's isn't in such cherry condition and is going to have to wait for my shed to be finished before anything great happens to it.
I would like to extend some "special props" to Mad Master Parts Man; Mister Michael Brown of Rose Motor Supply Inc. in Hutchinson, KS for all the Herculean effort in locating all the many and obtuse parts that literally every other parts guy in town just told me: "no, we cant get that"

Apparently, the '49 is a very difficult and rare bird to find parts for, rather than if it were a 1950; no problem, as they quit producing the KB series in '49. Anyway I just wanted to share my picture, because it has been a three month long project getting brakes on this thing, that turned into a bunch of other stuff like a new water pump, rear wheel bearings, battery, etc, and my master brake cylinder being shipped all the way to St. Louis to be re-sleeved, as even the M.M.P.M.; Mr. M.B. couldn't find a new one of those (thanks for the tip, Dad), but St. Louis is nothing to a truck that made it over the Royal Gorge!!!

Can you smell the bacon...

I guess it's time I came out to the closet. I got caught anyway last week, so what's the point? The one thing my dad was most afraid of hearing from one of his boys: "Dad, I wanna raise pigs" BOOM, there it is; the bombshell. Yup, there I was, at Orsheln's Farm and Home store last wed. buying hog panels, and who do I run into? My own parents... I was soooo embarrassed; what are the odds? I should have known to go to a store in a different city, or even a different state!

I know, I know. This probably is wholly unremarkable if you didn't grow up in the same household as me, but I gotta say it out loud: "I like pork!" This is despite my parents best efforts to keep kosher. Not really, actually the conversation went like this: (imagine a squeaky-voiced pre-pubescent little Dan'el speaking here) "why don't we eat pork, Daddy?" Dad: "We don't EAT pork because we don't RAISE pork. We EAT beef because we RAISE beef." Makes sense, I guess, but raising beef is a lot larger project for me to jump into, so for a much smaller amount of money, I can be pretty well set up with a little hog pen, and seeing how hogs are omnivores, much as humans are, only less picky, I can feed them all my zucchini, squash, pumpkins, okra, and table scraps etc, etc, that doesn't get eaten around here, since even the chickens can't keep up with me in the summer months.

I had planned on planting tall, covering grassing in front of my pig-pen, hoping that no one would notice it, but there is no point now. Anyway, the pen is nearly finished and here is a picture of it.

Everyone that I have talked to says that pigs are nearly impossible to keep in, so I tried for a piggy-proof fence, but we will just see I guess. I buried the bond-beam blocks halfway into the ground, then set the panels into the "well" of the block, then drove the T-post through the bottom of the block. I dunno... Its my own design, maybe it will, maybe it won't. ALL of my knowledge of swine came from books, which is the worst possible kind of knowledge, as it leads to a false sense of acumen.

I had one friend describe to me in great detail what he predicted would happen. He claimed that before my 2 pigs achieved 50 #'s that I would shoot them both after chasing them around the yard after they escaped, (he had spent some time chasing pigs as a youth, and claims knowledge of my general temperament...) which brings me to another point: I am interested in pig stories; if any of you have them; funny is good, but not required. I don't know very many people who have pigs, or had them growing up, but a lot of people had grandparents that had them, so if you have stories, just click on the "comments" button and share. (Dad, I wanna hear your sow/chicken story too!)

In other news around the Foster Farmlet/Soon-to-be-RANCHLET, construction of my shed is crawling along at a snail's pace, mostly due to inclimate weather, and perhaps, some slothfulness on my part. However, I am pleased that we got the south half of the roof on Saturday.

Here is a before shot:

and after Saturday:

But anyway, if you have pig stories, I would like to hear them... Can you smell the bacon? I know I can! Oh- and I asked Emma what she thought about butchering our pigs. Her response? "Kinda sad, but REALLY yummy!!" giggle...

One of many reasons I'm glad I know Jesus...

So I had an interesting experience in customer relations today; there was a guy for whom we guttered a very large hay shed that was a very aggressive, foul-mouthed, belligerent fellow who complained greatly about everyone involved in the process of building his shed. I was a little worried about working for someone who so easily found fault in apparently everyone that walks onto his farm, but as the cold winter waxes on, I become less picky.
Anyway, we gutter his building last week, and then I send him a bill. He calls Tuesday and wants to talk to me, right? He tells Marcine that she wont do, he HAS to talk to Dan, so she leaves me the message. I'm very busy, and it's quite easy to duck returning his phone call, even though she tells me that he sounded irate-maybe because he sounded irate. Generally, I have a policy about not being a coward when it comes to belligerent jerks on the phone, but I did have a lot of irons in the fire at the time (more on that in an upcoming blog, I hope- "Can You Smell The Bacon?") Anyway, I didn't call him back yesterday; so he is persistent; he calls again when I wasn't in the office. So, defeated, I call him back this morning and he really opened up on me right off the bat:
Him: (I'm doing a lot of editing out of very obscene language here-even if it doesn't look like it) "You don't answer phone calls worth a ****, do you?"
Me: "Very sorry, Ive been quite busy, sir"
Him: "You know, dumb-***, you could give the phone to yer secretary and and she could punch the numbers for you if you ain't smart enough to figure it out on yer own..."
Me: (pinking up considerably) "yes, she's quite clever enough for that-she's a big help"
Him: "Everyone else in the world likes to call you and complain about how crappy your work is and I'm no different so I wanted you to listen to me for a bit while I tell you how it is..."
Me: (quite red by now, I'm sure -and I can actually see my own pulse in little shock-waves around my peripheral vision, not to mention how well I can hear it in my ears) "What can I do for you today, sir?"
Him: "My wife asked me what I thought about the gutter job you did for me and I'm gonna tell you the same blankity-blank thing I told my blankity-blank wife: Since day one of this whole building process, I feel like every contractor out here has lied to me, tried to cheat me, and just done crappy work in general and I am just sick and tired of taking it!!!"
Me: (to myself: "Lord help me not say something I will instantly, soonly, or eventually regret" but out loud:) "YES?"
Him: "until you guys came out here and did your guttering... that's the first time I felt like someone did what they said they would, how they said they would, when they said they would!"
Me: "Um..."
Him: "You there?"
Me: "Um, yes... And?
Him: "that's all I wanted to say; Bye" -Click

By this time I was left holding a phone without a connection with a pulse at about 200 and all kinds of adrenaline and a red face still to boot. Its easy to laugh about now, but that old Vietnam vet/farmer knew just exactly how far to push me, apparently; cause he took me right to the edge, then yanked me back again. I think of how things might have wound up if I went ahead and spoke my mind from the start, but whatever.

Here are a few words from Solomon that we have been studying:

"...I know that it will be well for those who fear God, and fear Him openly" http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=ec%208:12&version=NASB, which is the only reason for me to hold my tongue, since for a while I figured that there was no way I was going to get paid.

and even though that may not have been it his point exactly, it held true in this one case for me.
Oh, and by the way; don't get the idea that I think i am a righteous man who never sins ... Ec 7:20: "Indeed, there is not a righteous man on earth who continually does good and who never sins".
It just happened to work out this time that I thought of the verse: Ec 7:9: "Do not be eager in your heart to be angry, For anger resides in the bosom of fools."

The point is this: in my own life, I definitely see the immediate positive aspect of being a believer, because I tried it without; and it wasn't pretty.

Note: My wife suspects that all the quiet hours on a tractor causes farmers to dream up ways to irritate gutter guys. I drove all the way to 4 miles north of Lyons to "remeasure" an estimate because his calculations were different than mine. He was right... it saved him $7.00, and cost me an extra $50.00 worth of gas. I wanna be a farmer when I grow up...

Stu-Jack (as we call him, for some unknown reason) is always looking for the answers to life's persistent questions... I'm sure that with his dizzying intellect and analytical mind, he'll be a great philosopher some day, no doubt teaching ethics in some Ivy League college. Either that, or he will just grow up to be construction trash like his daddy.

on fecklessness...

so there is this old joke it goes like this (most of you have heard it, I'm sure, but it does bear a point):

Small town cafe, same crowd sitting around every day, and a regular brings in a friend from out of town. Everyone is sitting around talking, when someone speaks up and says loudly, "Number 27!" Everyone laughs uproariously. The stranger looks perplexed. Pretty soon someone else speaks up and says, "Number 104!" Again, everyone laughs. Finally the stranger asks his friend who is a local what the deal is. He replies: "The jokes around here are so old that we just give them numbers, so it saves a lot of time telling them. Everybody knows the joke by the number". The out-of-towner thinks he will give it a shot. He calls out, "number 87!" All you can hear are crickets chirping; no one laughs. He whispers, "is #87 not a very funny joke?" His embarrassed friend replies, "Its not the joke; its how you tell it!"

Which brings me to my point this morning. I was in the boys' room the other morning as Isaiah was doing his daily "chores" which pretty much consist of cleaning up his room. He asked me if I had chores when I was a boy, and I told him that I did. He says "did you have to clean up your room?" I told him no, and as I was gathering my thoughts about how to best describe all the terrible hardships of the gruesome chores that I was required to do, (nearly from birth, of course) and how to describe the burden of carrying up to 30 5 gallon buckets heaping with feed to the calves, morning and night, every day, mostly in the dark, he interrupted my thoughts and said, "Oh, well if you did have to clean up your room when you were boy, I bet it would have been a really, really, really, REALLY big room, with lots of toys, so it would have been REALLY hard, huh, dad?"

Apparently, he has heard some semblance of the tale of my youth. He really took the wind out of my sails, I just said "yup" and left it at that... from now on, I'll just refer to the story of my chores as "Story #1"