I have been a reader of newspapers for years and the age old who, what, when, where and why format just suits me. Now, the world has turned to Facebook and think a simple statement with a small fact is good enough to communicate with the world. It is kind of like that peek-a-boo game played with little kids, if they can't see you, you can't see them. The problem is that in my attempt to keep up with what is going on in the world and a failing memory, I need more than is provided. I am on the verge of dropping out of the Facebook crowd for that one reason alone. If you want to tweet, Tweet to your heart content. If you communicate on Facebook, why don't you tell me more than you don't feel good or are home sitting in the dark. I sure as hell don't know the lyrics to any of the songs of today and if the lyrics don't make sense, I tell them so.
For years, we have maintained a path around our 18 acres here at Rabbit Run and this year it is so overgrown I need to borrow a point man to cut the foliage down so we can get through some places. In some of the blocks, it is caused by a wind storm blowing down the old dead trees and in other places it is those damned red ceders just growing out in the path to get sunshine. The really unfortunate thing is that right now Barb wants the path cleared and I'm just not up to an extended period swinging a machete or carrying a chain saw. Oh well, I mowed a path as well as I could and for as long as I could stand.
Better run, we have visitors due tonight and there are a few floors that are mine to clean.
With a little fava beans and a nice Chianti. I always did want to say that even if there isn't a wine drinker in the bunch. I'm not sure if I would know a fava bean either. We are pretty much ice water and iced tea. With that said, Dave and Barb came over for dinner and we had a nice visit. All day I had been kinda playing nice with my back and I'll be damned if just bending and getting the Best Buy Ad out of the recycle bin didn't cause it to lock up. Oh well, it is a lot better this AM and with a little rest and a Naproxin Sodium it will be a lot better tomorrow.
Barb and I are really excited to see our friend Julie from Morocco. She is coming tomorrow night and we'll get her for a day before we have to share her with her family. I would keep the girls and let her go on her way if it was totally up to me but I'm sure that all the girls will have their say. I know that they are headed to where a swimming pool is in Lawrence and grandparents that just want to see them as bad as I do. I haven't been given any of the arrival info on Gerald but I do hope to get to share some good BBQ with him. Gerald is teaching summer school this year so he doesn't have as much time as the girls.
Barb and I haven't made our travel itinerary out for this year. I think we will be east of the Mississippi and north of the Mason Dixon line. Everyone tell us that New England is spectacular in the fall. I think it would be fun to eat a lobster roll in Maine and baked beans in Boston. Probably won't hurt us to make a side trip to Canada and perhaps Niagara Falls.
Barb and I went for a walk at a local Prairie preserve this weekend and sure saw some beautiful scenery. As I walked up this hill and out into the open, a field of wildflowers just appeared. All I could think of was why anyone would continue west in a wagon after seeing Missouri and Eastern Kansas. By the time you get to Salina, it turns into a desert and it is another 1200 miles to anything green. Well, that's not totally true, the mountains are green but I refuse to live above 3000 feet in the air.
The weather here in Topeka has just been crazy for a few days. There is a warm front that has been pushed back and forth across this area and it will be 80 one day and over 100 the next. It was 110 in Dodge City. The good news is that there has been a little rain in all that and Barb hasn't had to water nearly as much.
Better run, or at least go slowly to the couch.
Do you have favorite places in your mind and when you go back there things just aren't the same? Yesterday we went up north of Topeka to walk on an un-restored prairie and I then drove us north to Holton to eat at a nice little restaurant. (name omitted but it is the only one in Horton along the main highway) It was OK, but nothing like the rave reviews I gave it in my mind. The food was well cooked, but no imagination in the seasoning. White gravy on a chicken fried steak and it needed salt and pepper to give it anything near a taste. The salad bar and french fries were good but the steak was just bland. God I hope it is not my taste buds going south.
years ago, the Chief of Staff for the Guard, had his wife and another lady come over to our house so we could fix a dinner for the visiting 5th Army Commander. We did a wonderful combination of meats and sides that were to die for. I found out that Judy is a gourmet cook and he thinks that rice with a little salsa is almost overkill. I would weigh 400 lbs if I had a wife that could cook like that. He eats to live and I live to eat. The funny thing is guess who had to have angioplasty and who hasn't? His skinny little butt almost didn't make it. Come to think about that, three times in his life he almost didn't make it. Once was lead poisoning from and AK-47 so that really doesn't count. Pain and a fever in the right lower abdomen and I'm in the hospital. He had a burst appendix and was darned lucky to have lived through that.
Direct TV has some of the most interesting channels that I get to watch from time to time. Because I like old cars, I get to see the Car auctions held all over the US. It was amazing the cars that cost big bucks a few years ago are falling all over themselves. I saw a Corvette that was almost perfect with just a few miles on it barely made $10,000. Then a 1951 Buick Station Wagon crossed the block at over $40,000. A fake 57 Belair 2 door sedan sold for $20,000 and a fully restored Olds 442 sold for less than that. Oh well, I am just glad that I am not in that world right now. I will drive what I have and be glad I have it.
Write if you get work. bet you thought this was going to be a travelogue didn't you.
One of my favorite Barbershop Songs starts with the line "What will I do, when you go away?" I think every soldier asks himself that question when he is on guard duty in some god forsaken place. Not what will he do when he loses his girl friend, but what will he do when he is faced with a high probability to meet and greet the enemy face to face. Every reaction from pissing his pants to getting up and getting his ass shot off are in the realm of possibilities. I assure you that in the reality of such an event,you will not lollygag thinking about what you will do, you will just react and then later on shake as you weigh the possibilities, Or not. Life in combat is binary, either you are alive or your are dead. There are a few that get the "Million Dollar Wound" but those guys just disappear into the medical system and you seldom hear from them.
I can't really tell you what you will do, but I can share a couple of examples of what I did. In the central Highlands after TET of 1968, there were not a lot of forces the VC or NVA had that were able to throw up a great number of soldiers to do anything that looked like face to face attacks. The engagement of choice for that time and place was mortars and rockets. Let me share the first and last experiences I had.
The first round from a mortar wakes you up with a sound like someone clapped their hand on the hard plastic part of a vacuum cleaner. It is a "thunk" kind of sound that wakes you up in an instant. It was about 2:45 in the morning and I had just finished digging our sleeping position and rolled over in a sleep that I thought could never be interrupted. Wrong... Damn if that thunk wasn't followed with another one and soon the impact of the first round was heard and then following rapid succession was the Thunk and explosions so mixed up that I had no idea what to do so I just stayed hidden under my helmet and flack vest. I was an unassigned Forward Observer and waiting for an assignment. I had no responsibility with the guns or the Fire Direction center. The sole area of responsibility was the three man Team. If you have read any of my writings about Vietnam, you know that my Radio telephone Operator (RTO) was newly assigned to me from one of the gun sections. It is my sad duty to tell you that the third and nearly the last mortar rounds wounded him and then ended his life. None of those occurrences could have been changed. Again I tell you in the most common language of a grunt, "It's Binary man, either you are alive or you are not."
I swear I crawled under that helmet and blanket of Kevlar thinking I was as safe as in my mother's arms. A mortar round hit one of the gun trucks parked right by my position and I decided that I did not feel safe there. Pretty soon, I could not stand the idea that my friends were dying and I was there in safety. One of the howitzers had a pretty direct line of fire to the mortar position and they opened up on the mortar and finally either I lost my hearing or it just got quiet.There were about 37 Mortar round landed in our position and we got off 4 or 5 rounds in his position. I ran out into the gun positions and looked for the Battery Commander or the XO. Neither were standing when the barrage stopped. They were in the middle of the impacting mortars and were moved to the side of the battery to be treated by the Medics. They were both med evaced with wounds that required treatment at a hospital. neither were wounded fatally. I spent a few seconds trying to figure out what to do and then just moved around the battery trying to get the people back on the guns and ready to fire should anyone decide to follow up the mortar attack with more of the same or a ground attack. It was almost two weeks to the day we had been in Vietnam and no one had any idea what the hell to expect.
I was running on adrenalin and so jumpy that I had a thousand thoughts running through my mind. I tried my best to not let it show in my voice but who knows what Donald Duck sounds came out for a while. Right there on the side of the battery was a jeep trailer that had been full of gas cans burning that gave the whole damn place an eerie glow like a camp out. Not enough light to see what exactly was happening but enough to provide silhouettes if there had been a ground attack. "Someone get the fire extinguishers from the trucks and put out that damn fire." Yes, I know you have wounded but unless we want more, put out the fire.
Out of the darkness came some Major I had never met. He wanted to know how many wounded and killed I had. I simply told him that I had no idea in hell and counting was not something I would do until I made sure the battery was safe and secure. "Put out that Damned Fire Lieutenant" "Which one of you people are drivers on your gun truck? get a fire extinguisher and put out that damned fire."
My RTO had been wounded by a mortar round and ran over and got under that damned jeep trailer. he was thankfully dead by the time his body was incinerated. It wasn't until much later that I recognized him. His body was removed from under the the jeep trailer and somewhere near daylight I got a good look at him. Shit, Sal laid there and I didn't even recognize him. We identified him be elimination at first and then I recognized his nose. The rest was not in any shape to tell what or who it was. He didn't have any dog tags on and anything in his uniform was melted into the ground there where that trailer has burned.
I spent the next three days without sleep putting the battery back together and moving it to a new position. When we finally got a new officer assigned, I checked out of the net and slept for about 14 hours.
The last time I was fired on in Vietnam, was right after I got back from my R&R and I was so short that I counted the days until I was to go home on a short timer stick with 30 notches for days. I could rappel out of my low quarters I was so short. Most people in my unit would have been rotated to base camp for some light duty but my replacement was some damned National Guardsman that needed to attend the Fire Direction School and I couldn't be relieved until he finished his training. It turned out that the guy that replaced me was Steve Livingston and he and I were good friends back in the real world.
I was sitting in a great big bunker that had been built around a downed tree and was about as good a bunker as you could get. I'm sure there were some concrete roofed bunkers near base camps but in the middle of nowhere and on top of that mountain it was as good as it got. I had just toured the gun positions and was nearing the end of the day. I was tired and had just slipped of my helmet and flak jacket. Boom! it was so close it shook the bunker and dust slipped out of the ceiling. The Chief of Smoke came in the door like he had been shot. He couldn't find his helmet, his flak jacket or his rifle. Normally one of us would stay inside and one would be out in the case of a rocket, mortar or Recoilless Rifle attack. I just put my junk on and told him to get on the damned phone and stay there.
Without thinking, I just went out in the daylight to see what I could do to stop that bastard from shooting down my people. The nearest gun right there on the perimeter was swinging around to shoot back. I helped them aim the gun and we fired just as he fired his second round. Shit oh dear, he was shooting right where I was standing and I barely had time to get behind a tree stump when the para pit in front of us just exploded. The gun crew had another round right there and ready to fire so fast that we fired our second round before he fired his third round. Between each round I would looked down the tube and re aim at the far hillside. Shit here comes a round and damned if it didn't blow a wooden stack of pallets all to hell and almost to a man the gun crew was wounded by either shrapnel or wood splinters.
The crew had fired all the rounds right there behind the gun and I grabbed two of the 155 projectiles under my arms and ran to the gun on my knees. Did it hurt? Hell if I know. By that time there was enough adrenalin in my system that I could have run a 100 yard dash on broken glass while on my knees. Someone found a box of fuzes and we fired those rounds at the far hill. Then, nothing happened for what seemed like eternity.
If you had been there in that gun pit, you would have no hearing left. I looked around and there was nothing of the sandbags we had built around us. The entire place looked like an F5 tornado had come in and torn it down. Most of the gun crew was there standing looking for something to shoot at and leaking blood in numerous places. All i could do was to shake and wonder what the hell did I do that for? Damned good way to get killed, I didn't and I hoped our enemy did. The Arvin unit that was a part of the perimeter defense sent a team out and they said there were no bodies but numerous blood trails leading away from the firing position.
So, I can tell you that in these two instances i acted completely differently and lived to tell about both. By the way, that tree stump was a very small tree stump about 2 inches in diameter. I had hid right out in the open and didn't realize it.
PS. The question I ask myself now days is what do I want out of life besides myself? I guess I'd better get busy and do it cause at 63 there aren't many more decades to get it done.
Col, FA, (Ret)
In our family, we have a long history of people with back problems. I think it starts with having a long back and not doing enough to keep it in shape. My grandmother, Erma, was gifted with this back and arthritis to add to the misery. The first back brace I ever saw was my father's and I wore it for almost a year after a basketball injury. My brother, Rick, just had his second round of back surgery and I hope is on the road to recovery. My sore back is the result of working too hard last week and I hope the pain will soon go away. It should be pretty plain that if I cut down a dead tree, I have to pick up logs. Right now I have a pile of logs beside the driveway because I am resting my back from piling them there. Oh well.
There is a gray squirrel that is about to test my limits. He thinks the suet block is his to jump on and pick out the sunflower seeds. He will jump off if I unlock the door and kinda run away. he will be back as soon as he thinks I am not watching. I need Barb to take an extended trip so she won't be witness to the thinning of the tree rat population. I have a great target .22 and it pokes really fatal holes in small furry, bushy tailed rodents. Yes, I know this was their home before we built a house here in the woods.
The other day I was out in the garage and looked for some screws I thought I had put in a cabinet. Right there in the first place I looked was a pile of CD's I must have moved out of the car. I found a CD that is a bunch of old church songs by a Barbershop Quartet. Barb said the other day she heard a rumble from the basement and came down to find me merrily singing bass along with Amazing Grace. Normally sounds of the basso profundo level are me pretending to watch TV in the afternoon. Somewhere about 3 PM a short (or long) nap just makes my day. Add to that the leather flex steel couch just makes my back feel better.
Well, my circular writing has drawn me back to the start so it must be time to quit. Write if you get work.
So the interview starts out with, "I'm a people person." All my life I have aspired to be the leader, the boss, El Supremo when dealing with people. It might have something to do with the fact that I love people and the never ending saga of situations they present. I am a lot more binary than I would like to admit in dealing with people but I hope in my heart of hearts that I tend to err on the side of positive. I do have one thing that I hope puts me in good stead in that I truly love to see people succeed. I have spent my life trying to come to grips with the fact that there is enough room for most of the people who work hard to succeed. It might start with the fact that my wife and I we were poor growing up and we had what we had and that was mostly enough. It might end with the fact that life has been wonderful for us and our success grows even in our retirement years.
Hardly a trip goes by out in the City where someone comes up to Barb or me and says, "Hello, do you remember me?" After Barb's teaching for over 25 years and my involvement with the Guard for over 25 years there is a whole bunch of people out there in the Topeka Metro area we have met. Add to that the teaching a new class of 25 students for three years for 6 weeks at a time and I don't even have a clue the number of people I like to stop and talk to. Just yesterday we were at one of the Optical stores and a young woman asked her mother where do we know that lady (Barb) from? It turned out that she had taken some cake decorating classes at Michaels from Barb.
Another thing I love to do is go to Wal-Mart just to see what people are wearing. The eclectic collection of clothes thrown on just makes me smile. The other day there was a young girl wearing what looked like her sleeping attire with a pair of those sheep wool lined boots. She could have not had any idea how silly she looked or she would be permanently mortified. The amount of amply endowed people that waddle into Wal-Mart with clothes that are stretched beyond belief amazes me. It takes me back to my counter drug training and I want to shout, "Say No to Crack" Not the drug, but the fact that people don't seem to notice the air blowing down their butt crack is just a hilarity. Once stretch pants become stretched pants, something gets lost in their fashion statement.
Do you get lost often? I don't get lost, I just find myself in places I have never been. If I have driven to a place once, I can almost always find my way back there without having to back up in a driveway to turn around. If you grew up in Kansas, you would come to realize that almost all the roads run east and west or north and south. It is only when you get into the small rolling hills in extreme northeast Kansas that roads just go in a general direction. If you see a sign that says K-4 west, you will wind from north eats to southwest of Topeka. Take US-81 south from Wichita and you had better want to run into San Antonio, TX.
A few years ago, a niece of mine had a travel trailer in Southern Georgia and the truck she had used to take the trailer out there was no longer able to make the trip pulling one of those big white wind sails that you can sleep in. Being newly retired and bored out of my mind, I volunteered to borrow a truck and bring that thing home all the way to Sacramento, CA. Now, realize I started and ended in Kansas and you will have an idea that I drove across the United States and back during that week long period. I had visions of being an over the road traveler, not so much after that trip. I definitely got over the idea that it would be fun to pull a travel trailer. I want to point out that that trip was prior to our owning a Garvin Nuvi to direct my travel. I would stop to get gas, pee and consult the map about once an hour. Yes, I spent over a thousand dollars on gas from Georgia to Sacramento. I didn't charge my niece for the gas from Here to Georgia and back from California as I was really on my trip and that truck just zipped down the road at 20 MPG without that damned trailer.
I don't give a damn what you drive! I have driven clear to Oregon in a tiny Chevy Vega so I don't have pride about the car I drive. What I do have is a sense of what my butt can endure. No more itty bitty little cars for me. I have a Ford Crown Victoria that gets an average of 25 MPG and I get to my destination not feeling like I have been beat up with an ugly stick. After almost 60 years of owning GM cars, I found a Ford on sale from a private owner and love that silver behemoth chewing up miles on the road. Some lady had to put her father in a nursing home and he had only 18,000 miles on a six year old car. It was like new and drives that way. He had every ticket for every service it had even had.
Does your name have any meaning other that what it is. Dennis is a derivative or Dionysus, the Greek god of wine. Works for me, except that most wine has sulfates in it that gives me headaches. My brother Rick was named for my mother's step father. Richard Milton Petty, or Rick as I call him (when I don't call him Dave or Dave, Rick) is the subject of a lot of, "Are you related to Richard Petty questions?" Yep, he is my brother but we aren't related to the Stock Car Petty family. No, Tom Petty is not a relative. Yes, somewhere in the Lee line of the family someone claims we are related to Robert E. Lee. Hell, I think half of the world claims to be related to him. I'm sure that he was at best a third cousin from my great......great grandfather.
In the service I met a ton of guys with neat and different names. Millard Fillmore Molthrup IV or MFM4 was just one of those guys. Gentleman Johnny Lott, was a nice guy that we added the Gentleman appellation because of his Georgia Drawl and his propensity to address the cannoneers as "Gentlemen" in spite of their unwashed smell and appearance. The funniest example of a name that got murdered was when our TAC Officer in OCS would address candidate Obiajulu in that southern drawl from Alabama. Candidate Atta Junduway Obiajulu would come out like Candy date O by a jew LU are you making fun of me? Obie would in his excellent British accent say his name in almost one syllable and our TAC officer couldn't say it in less than five. I won't even try to add to this discussion the wild names people give their kids today.
My sister married into a family that used the first name Asa and they went by their middle name. Asa Eugene was Gene and his son Asa Robert was Bob. Gene's dad was simply Ace and I don't have a clue what his middle name was. They are the kind of people you would expect to meet here in the heartland.
Moving on, Happy Father's Day to all you mothers out there. You know who you are, I hope.
In 1975, I was a National Guard Battery Commander in Horton, KS. We went to Annual training at Camp Ripley, Minnesota that year and about half way through the Annual Training period I was told that on our last day in the field, we would be getting a visit from General Bernard W. Rogers, The FORSCOM Commander. Evidently, he is from Fairview, KS and wanted to visit the Kansas Guard that summer.
For a couple of days, there were more visitors stopping to visit us than I could count. they all wanted us to be ready for such a distinguished visitor. We did more spit and polish and raking of rocks than any other unit I was ever in. Finally on the big day, a helicopter reported that it was on its way in to our position and I walked out to meet the General.
Let me describe the number of stars on his uniform. He had a fatigue jacket on and there were four stars on each shoulder. His fatigue shirt had the collars out and each collar had four stars on them. Then he was wearing a cap and damned if there weren't four stars gleaming from it. That is 20 stars showing on his uniform. A guy could be impressed if he really tried. Not a camouflaged star in the bunch. That same helicopter had a Brigadier General and the Adjutant general who was a Major general. There were 35 Stars showing and a couple of Colonels. Thank god I didn't know any of the Colonels. Six Eagles showing just didn't match the stars.
Just as I started to greet the General, one of my cooks snuck up beside me and saluted. Instead of shaking my hand and then following me for a visit through the unit, the General shook my cook's hand and they began to have a chat about family members right there. It was then that I remembered the cook's name was Rogers and I'll be damned if the General wasn't his Uncle. After about 10 minutes of their talking, the General asked the cook how I was treating him. He said "Just Fine Bernie." The General looked at me and said he had a tight schedule and needed to get back to Base Camp and promptly left. I didn't know if I should chew out the cook for not telling me about his relationship with the General or to kiss him for the kind words about me.
Either way, things worked out and we ended our camp is a successful manner. Every once in a while I drive north of Topeka and pass General Roger's hometown as I go north on US 75. I'm sure that one day, Barb will finally tire of this story.
I think about the few short years ago that we didn't have the computers to help us conduct our daily lives. Just how easy would it have been for me to automate my schedule and stay plugged in if I had been able to automate prior to 1990.
Does the world really think that because a few children don't know what is in the constitution that they aren't smart? Are they partially educated or can they only absorb so much and the latest software version has a greater impact on their lives?
I am always amazed when I meet people that are street smart and not book smart. I would rather have a group of friends that can tune a 283 Chevy motor than ones that can quote poetry.
What is smart to you?
Dave and I have been putting new siding on an old shed in his back yard. Two sides went fast and now I am working on the side with doors. I made one door but made a cutting error and it fits, kinda and I need to make some more adjustments. Part of the problem is that I made one foor 4 feet wide and the other will be two feet wide. i think I'll start over and just buy some more siding to make it work.
The other day, a newscast talked about the fact that kids today do not learn enough History. Barb said that part of the problem is that the Assessment tests for No Child Left Behind does not test that area. I think that there are so many new things that kids must know that something has to get lost in the confusion. How many adults could remember the amendments to the constitution if they had to learn how to program an Ipod, how to play a new game each week and be able to come over a program the weather radio for dolts like me? When I would go over to Mom's, her VCR would flash 12:00, 12:00, 12:00 until I figured out that she couldn't see the time anyway. A small piece of masking tape just stopped the flashing.
Oh well, alls well that ends....
- Lebron James Lost the NBA final game. Wait a minute, the whole Dallas "Maverick" Team won. It wasn't just one guy against a whole team. All season there has been a winner and a loser for each game. I want to point out that while I like Dirk Nowitsky, he didn't win it all by himself. Is anyone else as glad as i am to have the games over? I think baseball is trying to realign the teams so they can play ball for 9 months of the year. I think football may not even get started this year.
- Kraig Kayler's Defense team Argues Against Death. More accurately said, they argue against the death penalty. This guy drove to the home of his mother-in-law ans shot and killed four members of his family. The only way he would get fair in my book would be to plead guilty and hope for life in Prison without parole. Why do defense attorneys argue such crap after the fact.
- Weiner takes a leave of Absence. On one of the news shows this morning a woman said that had he been employed by any company in America, he would have been fired so quick it would make his head swim. Why do we let the Congressmen and women get away with things that the rest of us would get fired for?
- Newt Gingrich will attend the Republican debate tonight. Does he look more like Captain Kangaroo each day to anyone else? He had a little shorter hair but he looks and sounds more like the Captain each day. When even your paid staff turns their back on you, it should send a message that your 15 seconds of fame are over and it is time to go home.
The second question of the day is about pancakes. Barb makes cashew/Blue pancakes and has used a couple of ways. One way is to buy Frozen blueberries and add a little water and put them in the Microwave. You pour that over the pancake. The other way is to use the dried blueberries and put them directly in the batter. Both are good. What do you do to spice up your pancakes? In Lawton, Oklahoma, there was a pancake house that served Elvis cakes. They had peanut butter in the batter, banana slices between layers and a sprinkle of pecans in the syrup. Mighty tasty.
Every year, the Vidalia onions show up here in the heartland. They are super white onions that just add a touch of sweet to the onion taste. I sure get spoiled for that near red onion taste without the color. I haven't found much that isn't better with them added. Other than the mess, I think onion rings are about the best. I saw a program called Diners, Drive-ins and Dives where they sliced the onions real thin and cooked them like what the Red Robin calls straws. I might try that sometime this week.
Oh well, enough about food and on with the day...
There once was a time that I could have played Jeopardy and win a lot of games. In fact, in 1968 while in Vietnam we did play and if I didn't win, I had a lot of high scores and was second. We had a lot of relatives looking for different versions of the game and mostly they would send us the question and answer sheets. That was our early evening fare when we were on a fire base in the middle of no where. As I remember I cleaned clocks in the category of British things and Old Democrats. I think the fact that I owned two British cars helped the first one and I'm sure that growing up around my mother made the second one easy.
lately, I find myself distracted by things that just aren't hardly worth the time and I find extracting facts from the neural paths a lot harder. I do have a system that helps me stay more on track but that doesn't help when I can't remember the words I am looking for. Strange names can all of a sudden pop out of no where and I know Anna Pacquin from Natalie Portman even though I haven't seen many movies by either one. The main reason I can find my car keys is that I leave them in the same bowl on my dresser every day. Add the fact that my hearing is leaving and I think there should be little question that I don't know the answer to who is the shumpoer of stunklet. When barb is saying it, canna bulbs sounds like cannibals. At least I heard enough to make up something even if it was wrong.
I spent an hour or two yesterday with Austen and Kyler and I can hardly hear them unless they are actually looking in my direction when the talk. Add the wind noise as we were driving down the road in the truck and it was impossible.
Oh well, I had better get moving and get a few things done. My list is long and I have the time.