Was walking on the Elliott's ranch one morning and was startled by a bird that I startled. He flew in fear of being stepped on. It looked to be a quail, but we had just had a conversation about how quail numbers in Texas were low, due to fire ants. So after my stomach descended from my throat, I looked closer from whence the bird had come, to find a cache of eggs. No bigger than the tip of my pinky. I was expecting to immediately hear the call of the Killdeer, which is loud and very noticeable, but I didn't hear that, nor did I see the familiar dance of the Killdeer, as the parent tries to lure the intruder away from the nest by feigning injury,...an when you are near to them and away from the nest, they suddenly take flight. None of that circus happened, so I thought how ironic that it should be a quail after our conversation of how the menacing fire ants,....which I stepped in about five minute after this photo was taken,....had dropped the numbers. Maybe this quail found the right place,...it was on a rocky patch,..so maybe this quail took to heart the message of Jesus about where to build your house.

BOI!!!!!

This is my version of some of the photos I have seen of my son's female teen friends. This seems to be the most popular pose of his high school friends on MYSPACE pages. The first question that comes to my mind is,...."WHY?" The next is, "Is that the best you can do?" Maybe if some saw this pose, it just might "drive" or "bring home" the point for them. It's definitely not a flattering look for me, for sure. It could be a little more acceptable with teenagers, but surely there's a better pose. SURELY. Where's their imaginations that might afford them the ability to strike a different and better pose? Okay, so I can accept the fact that maybe I am not doing it right, or the way they do it. Maybe my age and gender have a lot to do with the ugliosity of this shot. Another question comes to mind, "Should my pursed lips go in the opposite direction of my eyes?" Would that make the photo a success? Well, I know the peace sign should be raised a little higher too,...but I don't think that would improve my look,...in what has become the traditional teen MYSPACE photo pose. As a matter of fact, I might consider entering this in a gerners contest,...you know, the contest at some of those state fairs where people compete to see who can make the ugliest, weirdest, wackiest face? I think I could at least place with this image! Maybe we have shirked our responsibilities and have not taught our kids how to be appropriately glamorous? Don't they ever look at magazine covers? I mean, even the cover model of Dog Fancy has a more fetching relationship with the camera than I do in this photo, and possibly some of those darlings on MYSPACE. Could it be that with the advent of digital photography, which gives the user a near limitless number of shots, that maybe they just don't care. You know, in the olden film days, processing was both time consuming and expensive, so we had to make every shot count or we would be paying for the development of failure, which we really didn't have time for and couldn't afford. And who wanted to see those failures anyway? No one,....we HAD to look good in ALL photos. We had our pride, our vanity. Maybe teens of today are more real and more at ease with themselves than we of the film processing era were. And therefore maybe our teens today have a stronger self esteem, self-image. It could be that they are not afraid of the camera, or failure, or of looking bad in front of a lot of people they know, and even strangers. Possibly???NAAAAA! Who am I kidding? These kids care what they look like,.....but they just need better lessons in vanity and pride and how to be vogue. They need to pay a little more attention to Vanity Fair and Cosmo,...to possibly pick up some modeling tips for the camera. After all, our nation, and the world is concerned with who's going to take over from the Super Model's of today once their smile has lost its gleam. Tomorrow we will need those shoes filled with the right women in order to keep America they way she is today! Looking good! And as Madonna said,.."Strike a pose, Vogue!"

Yet another sign of age creeping up on me,....the thrill of things that up until now have been totally insignificant. My most recent is my love and appreciation of those large, plastic, roughneck garbage cans. We had my son's youth group over last night and we had purchased a roughneck garbage can,....but not for the can,.....for the LID! My son had to create a Spartan costume and needed a shield and,...by George, if you spray paint the lid with bronze and use a couple of pieces of duct tape for straps on the back,....you got yourself a pretty strong replica of a Spartan shield,....I don't think that was mentioned on the trash can's accompanying labels and advertisements. Anyway, I love this trash can for its simple large opening and the ability to easily line it with a large black yard bag without tearing it or tying knots in it to make it fit. I love its depth and capacity,...the sheer volumes of trash which it can hold in comparison to my regular kitchen trash can which is much more sleek, shiny and presentable,...made of some silver polished metal. But let me also tell you that even with trash cans,....looks aren't everything.

The Orangade Skies of Northeast Alabama

It's been such a Long Time

That's the name of a Boston song,...from my youth,.....which was a long time ago,....it's beginning to seem. Last year, it was just yesterday. Welcome to middle age. Middle age makes me tired. I am so tired of thinking about what I eat and what I do. Am I eating the right things,....will I pay for it later,...do I have enough acid reducers for tonight and if I am on a business trip and forgot them,....then I MUST make a stop at the drug store,....just in case,.....I need some insurance,...in case I start living in the past and think I can eat three pieces of pepperoni pizza without paying the piper. Geez,...I sound old too. Well,...I have embraced my age,....maybe too prematurely,.....no pun intended,....but a friend got me an OLD GUYS RULE t-shirt, which I wear with pride. The sub-caption is: The older I get, the better I was! My other favorite is Old Guys Rule,...there's an old looking car emblem V-8, and encircling it is the phrase: "High Mileage, Low Maintanence". Gotta have that one! You know, I might as well laugh,....cause Boys don't cry,....says The Cure. There,..I just dated myself again, with that comment. Talk about shootin yourself in the foot!

The Four Stages of Life

Deep Fried Coke

Though I have never been to the Texas State Fair, every year I hear about the frying of some new food. Not okra or squash, but things you wouldn't normally think of eating deep fried. Last year it was a Snicker's bar. This year it was deep fried Coca Cola. Kind of hard to picture, huh? Evidently they took balls of Coke syrup, possibly frozen, rolled them in batter and deep friend them. Not sure if I would have the guts to have tried it or not. Now that my gall bladder is gone, I literally don't have the guts to do it!

SONG LEADER REVOLUTION

No, it's not a rebellion of musical types to overthrow the preacher types,....Get your X-Boxes ready.

This parody is hilarious. I think you have to be of a certain religious persuasion to fully get it. Enjoy. http://youtube.com/watch?v=9qzrkUnjtRU

Tired of Telemarketers?

A friend sent this link to me. It's a guy who found a clever and hilarious way to get rid of one of those pesky telemarketers. Click the link and listen. http://howtoprankatelemarketer.ytmnd.com/

Another Rocker

Holden loaned this picture to me last night. Another Rocker. Maybe he's working on a series? He shows some serious artistic potential, not that this is ready for hanging in the Kimbell, but I do see a good grasp of perspectives and and eye for detail(see his skater shoes). He has good shading and good contrast, too. This young rocker is not striking a typical pose either. With head down, this, like the previous sketch, is another working rocker portrait, not so much a posed as it is a slice of life.

I felt bad last night and today, cause I had really ridden him about his seeming lack of effort in studying for his Integrated Physics and Chemistry(IPC) class. Then, this morning there were other incidents that pointed to his difficulty in handling responsibility. I was in a funk all morning, I hope I didn't put him in one. However, this is life. It's not always a three ring circus and a bed of roses. We must all deal with the consequences of our actions and sometimes the actions of those around us, especially if they are our own flesh and blood. This is a lesson he should learn sooner than later. And maybe I could stand a refresher course.

Beatlesque Drawing

Early Monday morning we had a leak around our chimney flashing from a significant amount of rain that we received and needed badly. Well, it got some books and papers wet which were in a basket on our hearth. Among them was this sketch my 14 year old drew recently(maybe in church). He was bummed and just threw it away,...but I salvaged it and let it dry and kept it cause I like it. I like the very stylized look of the hair.

My son didn't tell me it was a Beatle,...but aside from him being right handed, he sort of looks like a young Paul,...so maybe this is John? That was my first impression, anyway. He has had some Beatle exposure. We did go to England last summer and we did take a Beatles Walking Tour in London and a lot of photos,..and I did buy an Abbey Road poster for his room,....so those factors might have slightly influenced or inspired him in this sketch.

One other thing I like about Holden's picture of this rocker is his look of teen angst. With gritted teeth, no eye expression is given or needed to let us know he's serious. His angry, intense mouth also compliments his "in motion"right hand/arm, rapidly grinding his axe. The guitar is nice too. I am not sure why he took out the left arm/hand/shoulder,...though, personally(as his father), I find that it lends the work a certain Venus de Milo quality.

Vintage Postcard Website

A friend recently sent me a link to a great website with vintage postcards from the USA, arranged by state and county. This is one from Tarrant County, Texas. It's the old Stock Exchange building and the old coliseum on the north side of Fort Worth, where the cattle drives ended and where cattle was traded and where they held the annual Fat Stock Show and Rodeo. I have a small collection of vintage postcards and am attracted to them for their ideal, hand tinted look and because they give a glimpse into a seemingly simpler time, which I find myself longing for more often, especially after I watch the evening news. There are some great cards there, even some from tiny, out-of-the-way towns. Check them out at: http://www.rootsweb.com/~usgenweb/special/ppcs/ppcs.html .

The Simple, Forgiving Amish

I read a letter to the editor today that made me want to cry. It was about the tragic murders committed in the Amish community in Pennsylvania. It wasn't tears of anger and hatred for the senseless taking of innocent lives that I had,...nor was it tears of grief and sorrow for the loss of those families,....though both were feelings that had coarsed through my veins at one time or another while contemplating this horrible event. My tears were for my sorry, selfish, idea of Christianity. I realized when I completed reading this editorial that I have made my faith, MY faith,....not the faith that Jesus, the Christ taught. I have watered down and approved my American Rights! "Christian" feelings for violence and vengence against the forces of evil and darkness in our world. Things Jesus NEVER taught. I was so humbled by this editorial in today's Fort Worth Star Telegram. I pray that I may have so great a faith to preach more with my actions than my words, as the Amish do.


I wonder if what happened in Lancaster County, Pa., has really been noticed by the American public? Something amazing happened in that bucolic place, so shattered by the murders of its most innocent. It seems that we all could learn something from the people who live there, shunning the modern world to follow their faith.

Only hours after the murders, elders of the Amish community went to the home of the killer to meet with his wife. And what did they say to the wife of the man who had inflicted so much pain on their community? Did they place blame? Did they condemn her to hell? Did they seek revenge? No, they were there to forgive, to offer their support in her time of need and despair. They were there to make real the true message of Christ: forgiveness.

I recall this message of forgiveness from my early life in the church, but during the past 20 years this message has been lost. It's been replaced by those who seek power instead of moral authority.

You know them. They bark at you from television and radio and in the voting guides they place in your churches. They claim moral authority, but in their angry message of hate and nonforgiveness, they seek to place blame instead of promoting healing in the world. They are, without a doubt, demagogues in the public forum, but, more important, they're "demigods" in their own minds.

I wonder if the Revs. Jerry Falwell, Pat Robertson and James Dobson would have been so "Christian" as the Amish? One needs only to recall Falwell's assertion after 9-11 that God was taking revenge on America with that horrible event because of the "gay agenda" and abortion.

In rural Pennsylvania, in the light of a cool fall day, in the fullness of the harvest, and in the midst of horror, true Christianity was shown to us all. Forgiveness, love, hope and charity -- all the things I was taught about my "faith" and all the things my "religion" has forgotten.

We should all humble ourselves before this true Christianity. The Christian right needs to take note of what it really means to follow the message of Christ and, as Americans, we should all learn a great deal from this event. The Christian in me hopes so. The realist has many doubts.

Dwight G. Hartwick, Fort Worth

Another Surgery

Looks kind of like a stuffed poblano pepper at El Chico's, doesn't it? Well,...it's a gall bladder full of stones. Yesterday, I had this removed from my body. This isn't mine,...however it could have been. They punched 5 holes in me and took it out around 1PM,....then I went home about 6PM. This is amazing and near miraculous. Anytime you can opt for minimally invasive surgery,....do it! I am in a little pain,....however not significant,....and have hydracodone to assist me with that. Some of my friends who had the same surgery said that they actually enjoyed the surgery. Though that seems an extreme exaggeration,....I could honestly say that it was enjoyable compared to my appendectomy; a walk in the park in comparison.

I registered in the lobby(like checking into a fine hotel), paid my portion of the surgery,...10% of about $5K,....which I could say was the most painful part of the whole deal,...but getting the IV started was $500 stressful to me,...ironically the burning pain medication they shoot you with to numb the spot where they start the IV is the largest source of the pain in that process.

Once they got my IV started they gave me something that felt like about three martinis and I got fuzzy and drifted off. I had to wait for my surgical time slot to roll around. I guess things were backed up because my original 11:15 spot,....turned into a 1:15 start time. The surgical holding room was crowded with about five beds on each wall with 3 feet between them, all the surgical holding nurses, all of the anesthesiologist and CRNA's and surgeons, all of the surgical nurses,....I thought a medical version of waiting in line to ride the Titan at Six Flags. Some folks would get there after me and then be whisked away to their appointment with the knife,....unlike Six Flags, I wasn't too upset that they cut line. The nurse told me it was even more crowded in the early morning.

I had a nice sunset scene gel covering the florescent light panel above me. The nurse I had was very conversational, which was better than laying there in silence conjuring up worst case scenarios. I guess that's why they gave me the nice cocktail before to allow me to sleep.

Then the time came and three Anesthesia guys came in and two surgical nurses wheeled me down to the OR. It was freezing cold in there,....it looked like every OR you have seen in the movies or on TV. They put an oxygen mask on me,....and then I remember waking up in recovery,....not really wanting to, cause the sleep was so good. The first two questions I asked were, did they complete the surgery with a scope(minimally invasive) or did they have to cut me,....thank goodness it was the scope! Then the other question I asked was did they have to catheter me. Again, the answer I wanted,...NO CATHETER! I was hungry,...I was sitting in a reclining chair,....which I barely remember crawling into with my groggy self. They had a small TV I could bring close enough to be in my face. I had a sumptuous meal of water, Shasta cola(where'd they dig that up?)a regular saltine and a graham cracker. The big moment they were waiting for in order to release me was for me to pee. I thought it would be a piece of cake,...I felt the urge,..however was unable to produce the first two times,....we walked for a little while and I came back and peed ever so slightly and they asked if I wanted to go home. Again, a response I was longing to hear.

I feel fine, though I look like the victim of a drive by, with five, taped up, bloody holes in my gut. I got my drugs,...I can doze as I wish today and recover in peace, so I can go to work Monday.

The Goat Profiles,...these photos were taken in a rural community two hours southwest of Fort Worth.

Day Lilies Bloom

Don't know why,...but they did. They are in an out of the way spot in our backyard and we hardly ever see them until it's too late. Amy cut them and put them on the table for our maximum enjoyment. I think they're kind of exotic looking. Not your run of the mill lily.

Krystal's is HERE!

It seems that all of the wishes that I made since we arrived in the Dallas area are coming to true. All of these wishes center around food that's not really good for you(or anyone else), that I experienced growing up in the southeast. The first acquisition we got in town was Memphis style pork BBQ at a Red, Hot and Blue restaurant. Second, we got a Krispy Kreme,...thank goodness the lines have subsided. Now to complete the hat trick, Krystal's opened a few weeks ago. I have had a Krystal burger once a week since I found out they were in town. Initially my son told me, and I refused to believe the truthfulness of his statement,....not that my son would lie about something as serious as Krystal's, but he could easily be mistaken as 8th graders are so prone to be. It wasn't until our youth minister, who is also from the southeast and familiar with Krystal's, broke the good news unto me that I finally saw the light and believed. I did not walk the aisle to express my faith in his statement that Krystal's had truly come into the metroplex, I just trusted his words and drove to the place that he had told me he had seen the light and smelled the grease. By faith I drove there as soon as we drove back into town from a youth retreat weekend. I partook and I was saved. BTW, those aren't Krystal hamburgers in the photo,.....they are way too thick to be Krystal's,...they should be paper thin patties and we should see a hint of yellow mustard and grilled onion jibblets. I just remembered,...they are open 24 hours! I wish I had not.

The Hoyts

[From Sports Illustrated, By Rick Reilly]I try to be a good father. Give my kids mulligans. Work nights to pay for their text messaging. Take them to swimsuit shoots. But compared with Dick Hoyt, I suck.Eighty-five times he's pushed his disabled son, Rick, 26.2 miles in marathons. Eight times he's not only pushed him 26.2 miles in a wheelchair but also towed him 2.4 miles in a dinghy while swimming and pedaled him 112 miles in a seat on the handlebars--all in the same day.Dick's also pulled him cross-country skiing, taken him on his back mountain climbing and once hauled him across the U.S. on a bike. Makes taking your son bowling look a little lame, right?And what has Rick done for his father? Not much--except save his life.This love story began in Winchester, Mass., 43 years ago, when Rick was strangled by the umbilical cord during birth, leaving him brain-damaged and unable to control his limbs. ``He'll be a vegetable the rest of his life;'' Dick says doctors told him and his wife, Judy, when Rick was nine months old. ``Put him in an institution.''But the Hoyts weren't buying it. They noticed the way Rick's eyes followed them around the room. When Rick was 11 they took him to the engineering department at Tufts University and asked if there was anything to help the boy communicate. ``No way,'' Dick says he was told.``There's nothing going on in his brain.''"Tell him a joke,'' Dick countered. They did. Rick laughed. Turns out a lot was going on in his brain.Rigged up with a computer that allowed him to control the cursor by touching a switch with the side of his head, Rick was finally able to communicate. First words? ``Go Bruins!'' And after a high school classmate was paralyzed in an accident and the school organized a charity run for him, Rick pecked out, ``Dad, I want to do that.''Yeah, right. How was Dick, a self-described ``porker'' who never ran more than a mile at a time, going to push his son five miles? Still, he tried. ``Then it was me who was handicapped,'' Dick says. ``I was sore for two weeks.''That day changed Rick's life. ``Dad,'' he typed, ``when we were running, it felt like I wasn't disabled anymore!''And that sentence changed Dick's life. He became obsessed with giving Rick that feeling as often as he could. He got into such hard-belly shape that he and Rick were ready to try the 1979 Boston Marathon.``No way,'' Dick was told by a race official. The Hoyts weren't quite a single runner, and they weren't quite a wheelchair competitor. For a few years Dick and Rick just joined the massive field and ran anyway, then they found a way to get into the race officially: In 1983 they ran another marathon so fast they made the qualifying time for Boston the following year.Then somebody said, ``Hey, Dick, why not a triathlon?''How's a guy who never learned to swim and hadn't ridden a bike since he was six going to haul his 110-pound kid through a triathlon? Still, Dick tried.Now they've done 212 triathlons, including four grueling 15-hour Ironmans in Hawaii. It must be a buzzkill to be a 25-year-old stud getting passed by an old guy towing a grown man in a dinghy, don't you think?Hey, Dick, why not see how you'd do on your own? ``No way,'' he says.Dick does it purely for ``the awesome feeling'' he gets seeing Rick with a cantaloupe smile as they run, swim and ride together.This year, at ages 65 and 43, Dick and Rick finished their 24th Boston Marathon, in 5,083rd place out of more than 20,000 starters. Their best time'? Two hours, 40 minutes in 1992--only 35 minutes off the world record, which, in case you don't keep track of these things, happens to be held by a guy who was not pushing another man in a wheelchair at the time.``No question about it,'' Rick types. ``My dad is the Father of the Century.''And Dick got something else out of all this too. Two years ago he had a mild heart attack during a race. Doctors found that one of his arteries was 95% clogged. ``If you hadn't been in such great shape,'' one doctor told him, ``you probably would've died 15 years ago.''So, in a way, Dick and Rick saved each other's life.Rick, who has his own apartment (he gets home care) and works in Boston, and Dick, retired from the military and living in Holland, Mass., always find ways to be together. They give speeches around the country and compete in some backbreaking race every weekend, including this Father's Day.That night, Rick will buy his dad dinner, but the thing he really wants to give him is a gift he can never buy.``The thing I'd most like,'' Rick types, ``is that my dad would sit in the chair and I would push him once.''Here's the video....http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ryCTIigaloQ

Fake Ticket

You don't have to miss any concert with this handy ticket maker. Since I never saw The King,...I thought I would like to see just what one of those stubbs would look like. The web address is at the bottom of the ticket,...but for you far sight folks it's: www.says-it.com/concertticket/ . Have fun! Great for Birthdays too!

Lemon Drop

This is a very sweet and lemony drink that came into vogue during the 1970s in California. It is now a favorite drink of the West Coast. The drink was developed at a now defunct bar called Henry Africa's in San Francisco, a well-known singles bar. At Henry Africa's bar, they developed and pushed "girl drinks" - drinks that are potent, yet sweet enough to cover the taste of alcohol. Think of the lemon drop candies! After making and sampling many different recipes, my husband and I declared this recipe our favorite alcoholic drink!

1 1/2 ounces vodka
1/2 ounce Triple Sec
1 teaspoon superfine sugar
3/4 ounce freshly squeezed lemon juice
Ice cubes
Superfine sugar for dipping
Twisted peel of lemon

Mix the vodka, Triple Sec, sugar, and lemon juice in a cocktail shaker half-filled with ice; shake well (supposedly the cocktail is to be shaken 40 times to make sure the sugar is well blended). Pour strained liquor into sugar-rimmed martini glass and garnish with a twisted peel of lemon.
NOTE: To create a sugar-rimmed glass, take a lemon wedge and rub the drinking surface of the glass so it is barely moist. Dip the edge of the glass into sugar.

Makes 1 serving.