Falling Asleep in Church

This past Sunday I fell asleep in church, to make it more interesting I woke myself due to my own snoring. I had been fighting sleep and losing throughout the meeting. My head was bobbing up and down like a "Bobble Head" on the dashboard of an old farm truck on a bumpy dirt road. I noticed my friend and his wife who were sitting in the pew directly in front of me giggling to each other and at the same time heard stifled chuckles from the pew behind me. I glanced sideways at my wife who not only gave em the "stink eye" but a "you are a disrespectful, irreverent slob and I am embarrassed to be seen in public with you" look.
It was not a matter of being bored by the speaker, I just couldn't help it. Initially I felt a twinge of embarrassment. After all it is bad enough to fall asleep in church but to snore loud enough to wake yourself up in church was bumping it up a little too high. I then began to think, maybe this wasn't all that big a deal. I am in fact over 50, have gray hair and a couple for grandchildren. When viewed from the proper perspective there is no shame for a person at my stage in life falling asleep in church. Indeed it is an expected behavior and will likely increase in frequency the older I get. I have arrived! My wife asked me why I even bother attending church when I sleep through it at least half of the time. My answer: First if I sleep in church I do not have to waste time napping at home, second by sleeping in church I provide much needed comic relief for other members of the congregation, and third I am modeling expected behavior for the younger generations. Sweet dreams.

Grandpa Duty

Well it finally happened my two oldest daughters gave birth to sons making me a grandpa. Ironically the oldest daughter, who has insisted all along that she should have the first grandchild, but had a due date a couple of weeks after her younger sister's due date, gave birth first. Like you my first fleeting thought was how did she pull this off, then I learned that her water broke and even thought the kid was six weeks early there is no going back. Grandma and I made the trip to Bee Hive State and visited the poor little guy in the hospital for a few days (he is home and is doing well now). What a great experience is was to hold that little guy in my arms.

A couple of days after returning home to the Cowboy State we got a call late one night informing us the grandson number two was on his way. Early the next morning we got word of his birth. Since he lives in the same town we do visiting was easier. Again the thrilling feeling came as I held him at the hospital.

Grandma has already made a second trip to Utah to see Knight (pronounced ka-niget). William also known by one side of the family as Buffy-B has been left in our care for short periods of time. While I find it enjoyable to hold the little guys, I find myself anxious for them to get old enough to do something with. The problem is by the time they get old enough to take hunting I will probably be using a walker. Taking them fishing will come sooner. I am already trying to figure out a way of convincing their grandmother that I need to get ready for the future by purchasing a couple of more shot guns, deer rifles and fishing poles. I do not know if she'll buy it, she already thinks I have too many.

In a conversation with my brother Jim in reference to our own father's death some 26 years ago just a month before his first grandchild was born, he stated "I reached one of my major life goals… to be alive to be a grandpa". He stated something that I had often thought about myself. I must admit to a feeling of relief that I'm alive to be a grandpa. My youngest daughter who is in 5th grade and I were watching Nacho Libre the other day and Nacho was complaining about the undesirable "duties" he had been assigned like "dead guy duty". I must say that "Grandpa duty" isn't too bad. It sounds like William just "crapped his chaps", time to hand off to Grandma.

Rattle Trap Road Warrior

Recently I completed a 700 mile trip driving alone in my daughter's 1990s Suzuki Sidekick POC. No air conditioning, no cruise control, and temperatures in the high 90s.
The car was loaded to the roof with pink storage tubs and large black trash bags. You know, the typical "girl returning home from college on semester break" stuff. With the windows down the fluttering trash bags made it sound like I had a car full of bats all flapping their wings behind my head. I had to drive with the windows open due to the extreme heat, if I had failed to keep the windows down I would have arrived at my destination resembling a 250 lb rotisserie chicken at the Wal-Mart Deli.
The noise from the wind and rattling trash bags by the time I arrived home my ears were ringing. I do not recall my ear ringing this loud since I attended the 1978 Ted Nugent "GONZO LIVE" tour Day on The Green at the Oakland Coliseum. It took weeks for the smell of pot smoke to wash out of my clothes and hair and about the same length of time for my ears to stop ringing.
As I drove down the road I kept thinking what do I do if this POC breaks down on me? I came to the conclusion that the best course of action would be to set the beast on fire and then stand by the side of the road, look distraught while wringing my hands and muttering "oh no my daughters car and all of her worldly belongings, u p in smoke….whatever shall I do". I would then call the insurance company, have the remains disposed of and hitch a ride the rest of the way home. Just a side note between Columbus and Billings I witnessed a family of four standing on the side of the road looking at the burned out shell of a motor home as the fire department finished putting the fire out. They were having a much worse day than I, nothing like burning down the motor home to ruin the family vacation (lesson: Don't ride your breaks).
I was very glad to be home. The things we do for our kids.

I Heard They Taste Like Chicken

Yesterday afternoon my son Miller and I were getting ready to add a "honey super" to each of the bee hives we have. What is a "honey super"? Well to keep it simple it is a box containing frames placed on top of the hive where the bees store the honey. Back to the story. I had sent Miller out to the back of our property to place an empty "honey super" by each hive while I gathered needed tools and finished putting on my "bee suit", No I do not look like a bee in it! It is not like a Halloween costume, it is white coveralls with the attractive hat and veil. A moment later Miller came into the garage and said "Dad there is a rattlesnake in front of one of the hives, he almost bit me, if it hadn't been for Jackson (Miller's black lab), I would have stepped on him". I sceptically went out to see if it really was a rattlesnake or just an angry bull-snake. Sure enough it was a prairie rattler and a fairly large one and not very happy. I sent Miller into the house for my Walther PPK (yes the same one James Bond uses). I shot the snake, cut off the rattles, then the thought came to mind "I heard that they taste like chicken". I resisted the urge and properly disposed of the snake. Maybe next time I'll try cooking the snake.

Guess What We Are Going To Have

The baby competition continues and here is the latest update. Those of you who have been following this know that my two oldest daughters (Kristine & Karlee)are married and expecting children. You are also aware that the younger of the two (Karlee) is due to have her baby first. Well today the oldest daughter (Kristine) called to tell me that she was having a boy, his first name will be Brian and his middle name will be Knight or Ka-nig-it ("and there was much rejoicing") if you watched Monty Python. This poses a challenge to Karlee because she will not have the sex-identifying ultra-sound until the first week in June. What to do? A friend of hers who is a Veterinarian at a large animal clinic has offered to do the ultra sound at the clinic using the horse ultra sound equipment. I am curious to see if she will go this way or simply wait until the human ultra sound appointment in June. Kristine may have won the "Who knew what they were going to have first" contest but Karlee could easily walk away with "The most unique how we found out what we were going to have" prize.

For my part I am just enjoying the competition and figure that however it goes, I'm going to get two grandkids out of the deal.

Red's and Big Red

In March I was in Kileen, Texas for work at Ft. Hood. A group of my co-workers who had been there a few days longer than I found a Texas style BBQ place called Reds. The food is great. They have Big Red cream soda on tap. I know you thought that Big Red was the owner of Red's or something but it is indeed a soda pop. If you do not know what Big Red cream soda is like, well I'll do my best to describe it. Big Red cream soda smells like the bubble gum you chewed when you were a kid, it tastes like cream soda but with a very slight cough syrup after taste. It goes very well with BBQ ribs, brisket, pulled pork and sides like cole slaw, beans, and potatoe salad. I don't know why this combo works but it does. Perhaps it is because Red's is Texas BBQ and Big Red is brewed in Texas.

I have a desire for some of Red's ribs and a little brisket. I guess I'll just have to cook up some of my own. It will not taste the same but I can always kid myself by drinking some Big Red. If you want to try Big Red cream soda it is available at most WAL MART stores, I found some here in Wyoming of all places. I've included some pictures so you can see I didn't make this up.

Facing Facebook

I haven't written for a while largely because I have been so busy. I was thinking that this is probably a good thing. What would I do if I felt obligated to write every day or worse yet how would I handle the stress of having a Facebook account. My life would be incomplete if I feel asleep without checking in on Facebook, updating my status and seeing what everyones status was. I am not certain that I am ready for this level of commitment. How could I live with myself if someone were to ask me to be their friend and I really didn't want them as a friend? The guilt might be so overwhelming I might need therapy.

I have begun to get pressure though from family and friends to open a Facebook account. My children who are old enough to have Facebook accounts have been particularly interested in seeing me have an account. When I ask them why their reply is “so we can talk with you”. My question is so what happened to just talking with people on the phone or in person? I call my oldest son on the cell phone, he won't answer but if I send him a text he replies back right away and will text me until my thumbs cramp up. I don't get it.

Perhaps the only way I'll know is to take the plunge and open an account. So stay tuned. I f ask request you to be my friend, be kind I have a fragile ego and do not handle rejection well.