Daughter was watching this cartoon . This amazing. The artwork, the imagination. Cartoon cats are scheduled to go on a honeymoon cruise to the moon with a whole collection of cartoon newlyweds. Unfortunatly Mr. Cat accidently leaves Mrs. Cat behind. He has a rotten time and then when he gets back Mrs. Cat beat the stink out of him. Storks deliver babies to all the cartoon creatures as they get off the amazing 1940's style spaceship. All except for Mr. Cat.
Nice to see a cartoon that is not about global warming or whatever social agenda is being pushed currently. Not a lot was said about cooperation or group thinking or being nice to others who are different in newly socially acceptable way.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Seven People Found my Story Offensive?!
One person thought it was funny and one thought it was interesting. I'm not sure if those statistics say more about me, my story, or my audience.
There are only six followers so somebody had to vote twice.
Perhaps they are just messing with my head.
What was offensive? I could see not that interesting.
Perhaps they are offended by random punctuation and poor spelling.
I just don't know.
I think I'll go back to in depth explainations of what I'm planting, how deep, seed population, fertilizer rate, that sort of stuff. That will bring in the page hits!
There are only six followers so somebody had to vote twice.
Perhaps they are just messing with my head.
What was offensive? I could see not that interesting.
Perhaps they are offended by random punctuation and poor spelling.
I just don't know.
I think I'll go back to in depth explainations of what I'm planting, how deep, seed population, fertilizer rate, that sort of stuff. That will bring in the page hits!
Shoud I become a novelist?
I read it in the cold light of morning and decided that you can't write a novel around a fellow shopping for hot tubs with a medical condition which really requires.... Oh, this reminds me of a joke. This guy goes to the doctor with this same medical condition. The doctor gives him this funny pill. He has a hard time taking them and goes back to the Doctor to complain. He says, "Doc, this are the most worthless pills I've ever seen. I have a hard time getting the foil off and then it takes like two glasses of water to get them down.
The Doc is kind of shocked and says, "What?! you are trying to swallow them?!!"
The guy says, "Well sure Doc, what do you think I would do? Shove them up my ...?"
(I heard that on National Public Radio)
Then there is the one about the duck who goes into the bar and asks the bartender for grapes...
So we watched the end of the move "Enchanted" this morning. I didn't like the ending. Why do they have to do everything over the top. Huge chase sequence and fight with a dragon and mixing of mythology and reality. Only real thing was that the cops took for ever to show up. It should have ended with the kiss...
The Doc is kind of shocked and says, "What?! you are trying to swallow them?!!"
The guy says, "Well sure Doc, what do you think I would do? Shove them up my ...?"
(I heard that on National Public Radio)
Then there is the one about the duck who goes into the bar and asks the bartender for grapes...
So we watched the end of the move "Enchanted" this morning. I didn't like the ending. Why do they have to do everything over the top. Huge chase sequence and fight with a dragon and mixing of mythology and reality. Only real thing was that the cops took for ever to show up. It should have ended with the kiss...
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
I've been inspired to write a farmer love novel
I've been looking at the Aspirations weblog. There is a whole network of writers who are busy writing stories this week. Some sort of group challenge to write a certain number of words per day.
I've always wanted to write a story but they always end up being third person observational stuff and not really that entertaining. I'd like to write some sort of stuff that you can use lots of descriptive writing, like detective, or sports (hmm out to try that as I know nothing about it....) Perhaps I could write romance novels for farmers. That sort of stuff. Yeah, that is my calling.
Oscar was a bachelor farmer. He had not really started out in life with that in mind. It just seemed that he got out of college and came home for a summer to work on the farm and he had just stayed. It was fun at first. Building the business, renting more ground, fixing the old tractors. But the years kind of slipped away and here he was sitting in a ramshackle old house on a less than successful farm.
His parents had passed away several years before and he was the only one in the family with any interest in the place. Technically, his older brothers were somehow involved but they were busy with their own lives. The farm was handy for camping trips and reforming lazy city kids but otherwise it represented the old hard way of life. Not that it could ever be sold, but it certainly could not be changed.
Oscar was getting a little restless. He had started a small hay baling business on his own and one day it struck him that he was getting old. It was not the well built and attractive lady in the big Dodge dually four-wheel drive with the horse trailer. She was oh so friendly and just loved the farm and the hay and thought Oscar did such a good job. He was kind of used to that sort of commentary and knew it could change to indignation at a moments notice, depending on the weight of the bales or if the lady's spoiled horse turned up his nose at Oscar's hay.
It was the teenaged daughter.
She was pretty and happy and reminded him of a summer day a couple years ago. Only instead of a couple years, it was more like 20 years. He could see that he did not remind her of anything, nor did he really count in any way other than being somewhat of a source of amusement. When he smiled and shook her hand, when introduced, he could see that he just didn't matter.
It made him sad. He certainly didn't want to date a 17 year-old, that was not the issue, the issue was that he was not 17 or 18 or 24. It had never mattered before.
The pretty lady rambled on about hay and horses and how the other hay sellers had hay her horses wouldn't eat. Oscar loaded her truck. He really didn't have much to say. Of course her horses would eat this hay. It was good hay. Baled right, just enough moisture and he had sprayed it with a just a little bit of molasses when he baled it. He didn't feel the need to explain all that.
The daughter was doing her best to help. She was not the usual horse owner who sat in the truck. He turned to her and gave her a grin. "Thanks for helping, your pretty good at this he said." Her smile was worth the complement. He felt 20 years younger.
But Oscar was still in a funk. He was lonely. Time had passed and he hadn't really noticed.
That afternoon he made a trip to town. He picked up the free weekly paper from the local organic produce store. The paper was from the nearby large city and was usually full of singles adds. He looked at the ads over a cup of coffee at the next door coffee shop. The back of the paper did have so many singles ads as it had offers for massage parlors and escorts and girls who probably would do just about anything with a lonely single farmer for enough money, except what he wanted, which was someone who wanted to be with him. The ads made him nervous. He pushed the paper back into the pile and looked around him. He was mostly by himself except for a couple 20-something girls from the local university. He could see that he didn't really much exist in their eyes.
The girl at the counter had been nice. She was pretty and young. He had joked about the rainy weather returning and made a comment about selling more coffee. She had made a friendly joke about his farmer hat and the fact that he didn't take anything but straight black coffee. He let her talk him into a mocha. It was good, that made him happy. She did seem to care.
He was determined to come out of his shell. He knew he let people pass him by because it was just easier that way. Interacting with people led to those people annoying him. Joining clubs or church groups or other general interactions generally led to people wanting him to volunteer, give them free hay, let them go camping at his farm, in short, bothering him.
Oscar generally just liked driving around in circles on his tractor. He liked to watch the changing seasons, he enjoyed working the ground and seeing his crops grow from tiny seeds. Generally, people just didn't know how to stop talking. That kind of thing bugged him.
He was in town with a mission. Years of driving his favorite old tractor which was just a little rough riding, had left him with somewhat of an embarrassing problem. It was his thought that one of those portable spas like he heard advertised on AM talk radio would perhaps help his problem.
Oscar had experimented with an old bathtub, an aircompressor and a heat exchanger manifold on his old Minneapolis-Moline stationary engine that powered the feed grinder. This was perhaps less than successful. The bubbles where just a little too extreme and the agitation jet he had found out of an old sprayer just did not have the right placement. He was thinking of using a stock tank and drilling holes and using brass nozzles when he heard the add for a portable spa on the radio.
So, he was on a mission. He put on his best decalb flying corn hat, he pulled on the jacket advertising slug bait that he had won at the last co-op dinner, he had taken the pressure washer to the 1966 ford pickup, he had talked the retired neighbor out of ten, no, that would have been twenty years ago.
The truck was the one thing on the farm that was in perfect shape. He had always liked the look to those older trucks and when he had spied it in the back of the barn covered in bird dropping he knew it was his destiny.
Oscar and his truck were at the hot tub store. He was a bit overwhelmed. There really seemed to be a few more models than he had imagined. He was thinking perhaps he should have done a little investigating online before actually going into town.
So Oscar was not quite prepared for the vision of uncommon beauty that interrupted his musings.
Emily was not beautiful, but neither was she unpleasant to look at. She was looking at the end of her 30's but not wistfully. She had short frizzy red hair that threatened to spill out of the confines of a black velvet band. Her eyes were the brightest green that Oscar had ever seen and she smiled at him. It may have been the smile that did it. It was a happy smile but one that might not be completely happy, but yet was really not sad. It was in Oscar's opinion real. and he thought that she was actually interested in finding him the best spa he could afford.
Unfortunately he was distracted.
There were two issues. The first was the reason he felt he needed a personal spa. It was an unfortunate medical issue and not one which he needed to discuss with the lovely (in his humble opinion) Emily, as he read on her name tag, but he knew what it was and that was the problem. If she could read his mind...
And that, and the name tag was the second problem. Emily was wearing a poloshirt emblazed with the logo of the Emerald Hot tub and Spa discount outlet store. What the polo shirt was barely containing was the Oscar's second problem. He knew better than to stare, but yet he could not pull his eyes away. He forced himself to look her in the eye and that is when he noticed her smile. It was more of an amused grin. He turned bright red and the grin got wider. He stuttered and she laughed.
I give up. I do not have the focus to write a serous story without heading off onto some tangent which I think is really funny.
Perhaps I will have to think about this some more. Not sure what the word count is. I think I have to put S. to bed...
Didn't get a lot done in the planting department. I finished my one acre and moved on to the next field. Did 40 acres and then had to go home. L. had to go to a soccer game. I have six acres left and then need to move home. Hopefully I can get something done before we get an inch of rain Friday. Only 260 acres left to go. Five fields over the course of 15 miles. Hmmmm. Perhaps not...
Edit: S. is watching a movie called "Enchanted." perhaps it is influencing the direction of my story. I do need to steer it away from the rude.
Oscar found himself apologizing but unable to explain what he wanted to apologize about. He could not put the words in his mouth but yet he still wanted to look. It was like a train wreck and he was ready to run.
Surprisingly it was she who came to his rescue. "Oscar you need to get off the farm more often," she said.
Oscar was shocked. She knew his name?
"Oh, everyone who has lived in this little town for a few years knows who you are Oscar. You are farmer who pretends to be grumpy and who sells hay and drives the old green Ford 45 mph everywhere, even in town. So, you have this perfect 1966 Ford. There is not a scratch on it. For ten years you have driven it with three perfect hubcaps. Why in the world don't you get the fourth one? Have you tried ebay?"
Oscar felt something he had not felt for twenty years. It could perhaps be described as a warm glow starting in this toes, a tingling sensation in his finger tips, a shortness of breath, a dilation of the pupils, not drugs, not a heart attack, but that little thing called love.
Oscar forgot about the personal spa. He forgot everything but that funny smile and those green eyes. He didn't see the frizzy hair, he forgot about his train wreck distraction and in his one moment of clarity, his perhaps one chance in the past quarter century he blurted it out. His one request, his one moment of destiny.
"Could I buy you a cup of coffee?" he said.
"Sure, but you have to buy a spa first," and she laughed so it was a joke.
"Seriously, you ought to just build your own," she laughed and turned to get her card out of the desk. "Here is my cell phone number, give me a call, anyone who can win first prize at the county fair with a peach pie, can buy me a cup of coffee, she said.
But Oscar didn't hear.
To say he was distracted would be a gross misstatement.
She was wearing loose fitting khaki slacks. But they were a little tight in one spot. I occurred to him that perhaps there was no company in the world who made pants with that small a waist and that large, well he couldn't even say the word. He just tried not to imagine the personal spa that she would be comfortable in.
It was not that she was fat. She was not particularly short. She was not so much shaped as a pear as a traffic hazard.
She had just agreed to a cup of coffee with him.
He fainted.
I've always wanted to write a story but they always end up being third person observational stuff and not really that entertaining. I'd like to write some sort of stuff that you can use lots of descriptive writing, like detective, or sports (hmm out to try that as I know nothing about it....) Perhaps I could write romance novels for farmers. That sort of stuff. Yeah, that is my calling.
Oscar was a bachelor farmer. He had not really started out in life with that in mind. It just seemed that he got out of college and came home for a summer to work on the farm and he had just stayed. It was fun at first. Building the business, renting more ground, fixing the old tractors. But the years kind of slipped away and here he was sitting in a ramshackle old house on a less than successful farm.
His parents had passed away several years before and he was the only one in the family with any interest in the place. Technically, his older brothers were somehow involved but they were busy with their own lives. The farm was handy for camping trips and reforming lazy city kids but otherwise it represented the old hard way of life. Not that it could ever be sold, but it certainly could not be changed.
Oscar was getting a little restless. He had started a small hay baling business on his own and one day it struck him that he was getting old. It was not the well built and attractive lady in the big Dodge dually four-wheel drive with the horse trailer. She was oh so friendly and just loved the farm and the hay and thought Oscar did such a good job. He was kind of used to that sort of commentary and knew it could change to indignation at a moments notice, depending on the weight of the bales or if the lady's spoiled horse turned up his nose at Oscar's hay.
It was the teenaged daughter.
She was pretty and happy and reminded him of a summer day a couple years ago. Only instead of a couple years, it was more like 20 years. He could see that he did not remind her of anything, nor did he really count in any way other than being somewhat of a source of amusement. When he smiled and shook her hand, when introduced, he could see that he just didn't matter.
It made him sad. He certainly didn't want to date a 17 year-old, that was not the issue, the issue was that he was not 17 or 18 or 24. It had never mattered before.
The pretty lady rambled on about hay and horses and how the other hay sellers had hay her horses wouldn't eat. Oscar loaded her truck. He really didn't have much to say. Of course her horses would eat this hay. It was good hay. Baled right, just enough moisture and he had sprayed it with a just a little bit of molasses when he baled it. He didn't feel the need to explain all that.
The daughter was doing her best to help. She was not the usual horse owner who sat in the truck. He turned to her and gave her a grin. "Thanks for helping, your pretty good at this he said." Her smile was worth the complement. He felt 20 years younger.
But Oscar was still in a funk. He was lonely. Time had passed and he hadn't really noticed.
That afternoon he made a trip to town. He picked up the free weekly paper from the local organic produce store. The paper was from the nearby large city and was usually full of singles adds. He looked at the ads over a cup of coffee at the next door coffee shop. The back of the paper did have so many singles ads as it had offers for massage parlors and escorts and girls who probably would do just about anything with a lonely single farmer for enough money, except what he wanted, which was someone who wanted to be with him. The ads made him nervous. He pushed the paper back into the pile and looked around him. He was mostly by himself except for a couple 20-something girls from the local university. He could see that he didn't really much exist in their eyes.
The girl at the counter had been nice. She was pretty and young. He had joked about the rainy weather returning and made a comment about selling more coffee. She had made a friendly joke about his farmer hat and the fact that he didn't take anything but straight black coffee. He let her talk him into a mocha. It was good, that made him happy. She did seem to care.
He was determined to come out of his shell. He knew he let people pass him by because it was just easier that way. Interacting with people led to those people annoying him. Joining clubs or church groups or other general interactions generally led to people wanting him to volunteer, give them free hay, let them go camping at his farm, in short, bothering him.
Oscar generally just liked driving around in circles on his tractor. He liked to watch the changing seasons, he enjoyed working the ground and seeing his crops grow from tiny seeds. Generally, people just didn't know how to stop talking. That kind of thing bugged him.
He was in town with a mission. Years of driving his favorite old tractor which was just a little rough riding, had left him with somewhat of an embarrassing problem. It was his thought that one of those portable spas like he heard advertised on AM talk radio would perhaps help his problem.
Oscar had experimented with an old bathtub, an aircompressor and a heat exchanger manifold on his old Minneapolis-Moline stationary engine that powered the feed grinder. This was perhaps less than successful. The bubbles where just a little too extreme and the agitation jet he had found out of an old sprayer just did not have the right placement. He was thinking of using a stock tank and drilling holes and using brass nozzles when he heard the add for a portable spa on the radio.
So, he was on a mission. He put on his best decalb flying corn hat, he pulled on the jacket advertising slug bait that he had won at the last co-op dinner, he had taken the pressure washer to the 1966 ford pickup, he had talked the retired neighbor out of ten, no, that would have been twenty years ago.
The truck was the one thing on the farm that was in perfect shape. He had always liked the look to those older trucks and when he had spied it in the back of the barn covered in bird dropping he knew it was his destiny.
Oscar and his truck were at the hot tub store. He was a bit overwhelmed. There really seemed to be a few more models than he had imagined. He was thinking perhaps he should have done a little investigating online before actually going into town.
So Oscar was not quite prepared for the vision of uncommon beauty that interrupted his musings.
Emily was not beautiful, but neither was she unpleasant to look at. She was looking at the end of her 30's but not wistfully. She had short frizzy red hair that threatened to spill out of the confines of a black velvet band. Her eyes were the brightest green that Oscar had ever seen and she smiled at him. It may have been the smile that did it. It was a happy smile but one that might not be completely happy, but yet was really not sad. It was in Oscar's opinion real. and he thought that she was actually interested in finding him the best spa he could afford.
Unfortunately he was distracted.
There were two issues. The first was the reason he felt he needed a personal spa. It was an unfortunate medical issue and not one which he needed to discuss with the lovely (in his humble opinion) Emily, as he read on her name tag, but he knew what it was and that was the problem. If she could read his mind...
And that, and the name tag was the second problem. Emily was wearing a poloshirt emblazed with the logo of the Emerald Hot tub and Spa discount outlet store. What the polo shirt was barely containing was the Oscar's second problem. He knew better than to stare, but yet he could not pull his eyes away. He forced himself to look her in the eye and that is when he noticed her smile. It was more of an amused grin. He turned bright red and the grin got wider. He stuttered and she laughed.
I give up. I do not have the focus to write a serous story without heading off onto some tangent which I think is really funny.
Perhaps I will have to think about this some more. Not sure what the word count is. I think I have to put S. to bed...
Didn't get a lot done in the planting department. I finished my one acre and moved on to the next field. Did 40 acres and then had to go home. L. had to go to a soccer game. I have six acres left and then need to move home. Hopefully I can get something done before we get an inch of rain Friday. Only 260 acres left to go. Five fields over the course of 15 miles. Hmmmm. Perhaps not...
Edit: S. is watching a movie called "Enchanted." perhaps it is influencing the direction of my story. I do need to steer it away from the rude.
Oscar found himself apologizing but unable to explain what he wanted to apologize about. He could not put the words in his mouth but yet he still wanted to look. It was like a train wreck and he was ready to run.
Surprisingly it was she who came to his rescue. "Oscar you need to get off the farm more often," she said.
Oscar was shocked. She knew his name?
"Oh, everyone who has lived in this little town for a few years knows who you are Oscar. You are farmer who pretends to be grumpy and who sells hay and drives the old green Ford 45 mph everywhere, even in town. So, you have this perfect 1966 Ford. There is not a scratch on it. For ten years you have driven it with three perfect hubcaps. Why in the world don't you get the fourth one? Have you tried ebay?"
Oscar felt something he had not felt for twenty years. It could perhaps be described as a warm glow starting in this toes, a tingling sensation in his finger tips, a shortness of breath, a dilation of the pupils, not drugs, not a heart attack, but that little thing called love.
Oscar forgot about the personal spa. He forgot everything but that funny smile and those green eyes. He didn't see the frizzy hair, he forgot about his train wreck distraction and in his one moment of clarity, his perhaps one chance in the past quarter century he blurted it out. His one request, his one moment of destiny.
"Could I buy you a cup of coffee?" he said.
"Sure, but you have to buy a spa first," and she laughed so it was a joke.
"Seriously, you ought to just build your own," she laughed and turned to get her card out of the desk. "Here is my cell phone number, give me a call, anyone who can win first prize at the county fair with a peach pie, can buy me a cup of coffee, she said.
But Oscar didn't hear.
To say he was distracted would be a gross misstatement.
She was wearing loose fitting khaki slacks. But they were a little tight in one spot. I occurred to him that perhaps there was no company in the world who made pants with that small a waist and that large, well he couldn't even say the word. He just tried not to imagine the personal spa that she would be comfortable in.
It was not that she was fat. She was not particularly short. She was not so much shaped as a pear as a traffic hazard.
She had just agreed to a cup of coffee with him.
He fainted.
Monday, November 2, 2009
Dry weather and sunshine but everythig still went wrong
First my wife forgot her phone and was in school all day, so I took that to her. I'm planting sort of near her school. I figured it was going to be one of those days when I dropped my full cup of coffee in the parking lot. I got to the planter and filled the tractor with diesel. Cousin called and his flow meter was not working. He was spraying the next field I'm going to plant. So I took him my book. A neighbor came over to chat. He told a story about the local BTO's Mexican's going to sleep with the auto-steer turned on and driving the monster 4wd and a disk ripper through the local nursery. He may have made this story up. Sounded good however. I got back to fill the drill and first of all the belt broke on the fertilizer tank that is full of wheat. The last drill fill up of course. So I had to go to co-op and get new belt. They did tighten it when the farmer went to get seed on Friday. Tightening a belt which has started running upside down is kind of pointless.
Then I turned on the GPS which I really needed as the drill was not leaving tracks in the field and I had no idea where I was going. I upgraded the memory on my Fujitsu st4120 tablet computer on Sunday. It then wanted my COA number for WindowsXP. Have I ever mentioned how much I hate Windows? So I looked around for a stolen COA online. I found a couple but the didn't work. Then I tried the right one again and it worked. I really didn't try out the tablet as it is Windows and is kind of a pain in the arse to use.
Side note: I have an Apple Newton and an Apple eMate. Both are so old I really can't use them anymore. BUT-the reason I stopped was due to the companies decision to not support them, not because they were crap or hard to use. The handwriting recognition was not so much better than windowsXP tablet edition, it was just way more intuitive and well, it worked.
I've go this tablet that sold for like $2500 new. (I paid $100) and it doesn't even have a screen brightness control. You have to do a strange keystroke combination with the little buttons that don't really do anything on the front of the tablet. It is totally idiotic.
So, anyay... When I started up FarmerGPS it told me I needed a new security code. I then tried another free GPS program which connected but wouldn't show the tractor moving. While fooling with this program I came to a corner. I did not see the corner quite quick enough and turned to short. This dragged the drill sideways and I busted a no-till coulter.
So I went home.
I stole a no-till opener off the corn planter.
I fixed myself a steak sandwich (very tasty) and I found my trusty old Fujitsu 3400. It took like five minutes to startup but when it did it worked like a champ.
I really needed it. I could not see a thing. No drill tracks at all.
Then, shortly after dark I ran out of seed.
According to my acre counter I have one acre left. I need to get 130lbs of wheat to complete the job.
Ah, yes-tomorrow is another day!
Then I turned on the GPS which I really needed as the drill was not leaving tracks in the field and I had no idea where I was going. I upgraded the memory on my Fujitsu st4120 tablet computer on Sunday. It then wanted my COA number for WindowsXP. Have I ever mentioned how much I hate Windows? So I looked around for a stolen COA online. I found a couple but the didn't work. Then I tried the right one again and it worked. I really didn't try out the tablet as it is Windows and is kind of a pain in the arse to use.
Side note: I have an Apple Newton and an Apple eMate. Both are so old I really can't use them anymore. BUT-the reason I stopped was due to the companies decision to not support them, not because they were crap or hard to use. The handwriting recognition was not so much better than windowsXP tablet edition, it was just way more intuitive and well, it worked.
I've go this tablet that sold for like $2500 new. (I paid $100) and it doesn't even have a screen brightness control. You have to do a strange keystroke combination with the little buttons that don't really do anything on the front of the tablet. It is totally idiotic.
So, anyay... When I started up FarmerGPS it told me I needed a new security code. I then tried another free GPS program which connected but wouldn't show the tractor moving. While fooling with this program I came to a corner. I did not see the corner quite quick enough and turned to short. This dragged the drill sideways and I busted a no-till coulter.
So I went home.
I stole a no-till opener off the corn planter.
I fixed myself a steak sandwich (very tasty) and I found my trusty old Fujitsu 3400. It took like five minutes to startup but when it did it worked like a champ.
I really needed it. I could not see a thing. No drill tracks at all.
Then, shortly after dark I ran out of seed.
According to my acre counter I have one acre left. I need to get 130lbs of wheat to complete the job.
Ah, yes-tomorrow is another day!
Sunday, November 1, 2009
We had a skeleton in our closet
Post Halloween Sunday
Last night was halloween. We went to the trunk-r-treat at the Cambelite church in Amity. People lined up there cars in the parking lot and opened the trunks. They had candy and dressed in costumes and had the trunks all decorated.
Fat white-trash ladies waddled down the middle of the road going to and from the church, towing their screaming urchins dressed in their natural state, little demons, witches, and pirates....and hookers....
It was pretty fun for Sadie. She was dressed as a skeleton. They had a couple of those kiddie houses that are blown up with a leaf blower. There was a costume contest. Sadie didn't win. There was a cake walk, she won a brownie.
I saw a friend from high school. We had a nice talk. It was nice. Kind of strange. He had a secret. I was the nice Christian boy. He liked to drink. Somehow he didn't think I knew. So I went to Church, and I tried very hard to make my Christian faith work. That did not mean I was stupid or that I even that didn't realize I was not very worldly. I just didn't drink nor did I very often go off and hang out with those that did. I liked to do stuff. Drive fast, have fun, make jokes, pranks, I didn't like to park on back rows and get sloppy drunk then talk about it at school the next day.
Anyway, I was not in the party scene, not really that popular and because I was a contrarian and refused to try to be popular. Whatever...
So anyway, he had this ongoing booze problem that turned to drugs and then his wife died in childbirth and the drugs became and issue.
I think that if anyone has a reason to be on drugs then he does. The problem is that he seemed to see me as having some sort of higher moral/spiritual level and I really don't know how to deal with it. I have no real moral authority on anyone. I have my own issues.
So we had our chat and we should hang out more. Which is good. But, of course I will probably never call. I never call. I am such bad friend. All I do is work. People should not take that personal. I just am probably not a very good friend. It is easier just to work all the time.
He called is Mom and said S. and I would stop by for trick or treat.
We stayed at the party a little while and then drove down the road to Aunt E. and Uncle H's house. They were having a pizza party and halloween treats.
S. and I ran down the street to Mrs. R's house. She was on the phone and could not talk to me. That is so funny. You would have to know the whole history but that is kind of funny.
Mom and Mrs. R drove school bus together. Mrs. R. called Mom every day. Mom knew more about me from Mrs. R. than from life itself...
Uncle and Aunt had their family there. Brother and family and dad were there as well. Sadie and the boys had a good time. Aunt E,'s grand daughter L. and family were there. They have two little girls. I think S. was friendly with them. The oldest is preschool, she is a real talker. She was telling me about all sorts of scary halloween things. Unfortunately, my hearing is shot from years of running an open tractor so I have no idea what she was saying. I just watched her expressions and nodded at the right time. She is pretty cute.
We left early (if you call 9 p.m. early) and went home. L. wasn't feeling well. When we got home S. and L. worked on a big jigsaw puzzle and I read them a Bible story off the devotion of the day website. It was about the parables of the sower and the seed and the stoney ground and the weeds. I won't even attempt to think about any significance that has in relationship to my life...
S. went to church with my brother and family. She was happy. She got to make a decision and felt her independence.
In planting news...I worked on my fertilizer rate controller all day. My cousin came over and helped me. We had an interesting discussion about a neighboring farmer and son duo who both just got divorced and now are dating strippers. The question is, if you are over 50 and recently divorced how do you get a really hot 20-something who loves sex to date you? I think the answer is you use the same technique you use if you are a 20 something recently divorced guy who is dating a stripper. You pay them money till their clothes come off and keep paying you more money till they follow you home...
Not such a difficult concept...
I can't get that rate controller to work. I buy this used crap off of ebay and wire it all myself and then I lose or forget the wiring diagram and then I have to figure it out all over again. Everyone else just buys new. !@#$%^&
Fat white-trash ladies waddled down the middle of the road going to and from the church, towing their screaming urchins dressed in their natural state, little demons, witches, and pirates....and hookers....
It was pretty fun for Sadie. She was dressed as a skeleton. They had a couple of those kiddie houses that are blown up with a leaf blower. There was a costume contest. Sadie didn't win. There was a cake walk, she won a brownie.
I saw a friend from high school. We had a nice talk. It was nice. Kind of strange. He had a secret. I was the nice Christian boy. He liked to drink. Somehow he didn't think I knew. So I went to Church, and I tried very hard to make my Christian faith work. That did not mean I was stupid or that I even that didn't realize I was not very worldly. I just didn't drink nor did I very often go off and hang out with those that did. I liked to do stuff. Drive fast, have fun, make jokes, pranks, I didn't like to park on back rows and get sloppy drunk then talk about it at school the next day.
Anyway, I was not in the party scene, not really that popular and because I was a contrarian and refused to try to be popular. Whatever...
So anyway, he had this ongoing booze problem that turned to drugs and then his wife died in childbirth and the drugs became and issue.
I think that if anyone has a reason to be on drugs then he does. The problem is that he seemed to see me as having some sort of higher moral/spiritual level and I really don't know how to deal with it. I have no real moral authority on anyone. I have my own issues.
So we had our chat and we should hang out more. Which is good. But, of course I will probably never call. I never call. I am such bad friend. All I do is work. People should not take that personal. I just am probably not a very good friend. It is easier just to work all the time.
He called is Mom and said S. and I would stop by for trick or treat.
We stayed at the party a little while and then drove down the road to Aunt E. and Uncle H's house. They were having a pizza party and halloween treats.
S. and I ran down the street to Mrs. R's house. She was on the phone and could not talk to me. That is so funny. You would have to know the whole history but that is kind of funny.
Mom and Mrs. R drove school bus together. Mrs. R. called Mom every day. Mom knew more about me from Mrs. R. than from life itself...
Uncle and Aunt had their family there. Brother and family and dad were there as well. Sadie and the boys had a good time. Aunt E,'s grand daughter L. and family were there. They have two little girls. I think S. was friendly with them. The oldest is preschool, she is a real talker. She was telling me about all sorts of scary halloween things. Unfortunately, my hearing is shot from years of running an open tractor so I have no idea what she was saying. I just watched her expressions and nodded at the right time. She is pretty cute.
We left early (if you call 9 p.m. early) and went home. L. wasn't feeling well. When we got home S. and L. worked on a big jigsaw puzzle and I read them a Bible story off the devotion of the day website. It was about the parables of the sower and the seed and the stoney ground and the weeds. I won't even attempt to think about any significance that has in relationship to my life...
S. went to church with my brother and family. She was happy. She got to make a decision and felt her independence.
In planting news...I worked on my fertilizer rate controller all day. My cousin came over and helped me. We had an interesting discussion about a neighboring farmer and son duo who both just got divorced and now are dating strippers. The question is, if you are over 50 and recently divorced how do you get a really hot 20-something who loves sex to date you? I think the answer is you use the same technique you use if you are a 20 something recently divorced guy who is dating a stripper. You pay them money till their clothes come off and keep paying you more money till they follow you home...
Not such a difficult concept...
I can't get that rate controller to work. I buy this used crap off of ebay and wire it all myself and then I lose or forget the wiring diagram and then I have to figure it out all over again. Everyone else just buys new. !@#$%^&
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