EMAIL

Here is a post that will likely not be interesting to most that will read it. Okay, I get your point. None of the previous posts have been all that interesting. 

I added some folks to my email list. If you get this in your email, and you like to receive my posts, do nothing. If you get this in your email, and wish not to get them in the future, let me know and I can remove you from the list. If you know someone that really would like to get my posts, but did not get this email, let me know and I can add them to my list.

That is all this is about. 

MERRY CHRISTMAS

STOP! THIEF!

I had a great night last night watching the movie Sherlock Holmes with a friend. Afterward we walked the mall. We bought some things for Christmas.
Well, this morning I am casually going about my business. Some of my morning business needs not be discussed here. More to the point, I was making coffee. The coffee maker sits right next to the sink and the sink is centered under the kitchen window. So, all to a sudden, and with much more fervor than usual, Bandit is barking. I look out the window to see him hit the fence next to the garage. His focus is this man wearing a stocking cap. I watched for a moment until I realized this is the man that has been stealing from me over the past year.
I have had ladders, lawn mower, fence posts, and more stolen. Only those that have been violated by these low down awful people know how much of a kick in the gut it is to have things taken. It is not the value alone. It is the VIOLATION! It leaves you without options. It makes you feel like hitting the wall with a closed fist. It makes you start suspecting all that live near you.
The most awful thing it does is make you consider what you would do if you had a gun handy. You probably are laughing under your breath and thinking I am kidding. Of course no one should get shot for simply stealing. It does not threaten ones family or self, so we know not to take it to that extreme.
Okay, back to the story. So once I realized the thief was right here, I wanted to get his license plate. I raced to the bedroom and pulled on my pants and grabbed a winter coat. Mind you I only had my under shorts on before Bandit's announcement. I rationally chose not to grab a gun. This choice was made to save time. I did not even slow down to put socks or shoes on my feet.
Because of the thievery I had started locking my gates. Knowing it would slow me down entering the combination and going through the gate, I chose to go out the front door and run around the house to the side yard. Then I sprinted bare footed over the very cold frozen grass to the even colder gravel and cement at the garage. As I turned the corner of the garage, the pickup was just turning the corner at the far end of our alley. And, no, I could not see the licence. Drat.
I sprinted back across the still cold grass to the front yard to catch another glimpse. Gone.
To my surprise, two of my neighbors were out at their cars. Are you kidding me. They were so close by and were totally oblivious to my misfortune. I ran past them to the corner. Nothing moving. I ran to this street's intersection with my alley. The corner where I caught a glimpse of the pickup.
Now the cold is starting to really scream at me. My feet hurt so bad. I wanted to run because of the cold, but I did not have the energy. I walked back to the spot of the crime. Yes, he had stolen again.
During the summer, I was given a cutting bit off a big loader. The contractor needed to install a new one because his loader was cutting more on one side than the other. The bit was only a little lop sided, so I asked for and was given the slightly worn big piece of steal.
This was heavier than I could load by myself. The contractor helped load it into my Tahoe. Once it was home, I affixed a cable to it and drove my Tahoe forward until it fell to the ground. I say all this to point out that the thief must have been pretty stout to quickly load this into his pickup.
The only evidence I could see were the tracks where he sped away. I am not good at describing something. I was trying to tell myself to make careful observations. What I remember of the pickup is that it was not a full size, it appeared to be a sea green/blue pickup.
So I guarded my memory as I walked across the extremely cold grass to the front door and inside to the comfort of home. Home: my castle!
Now I am sitting here telling you my sad story. I am so jaded by the lack of help from our city police. They are so impotent. They are legal thieves. They take much of my money to supposedly keep us safe. No, they are not keeping me safe from thieves.
Remember, when seconds count, the police are only minutes away!
Okay, so what would I do if I had a gun? You see, I know very clearly what I should do. What I do not know is whether I could sort out everything with clarity in split seconds. So, for sake of discussion, what if you get the drop on the thief and have him dead to rights. Let's say he is surprised and tosses a wrench at you. What will he try next. Does he have a gun. What to do? We are not trained to know how to do this. There will be so many choices needing to be made in way too little time.
I just want to say that I do not want to be involved with an event in which I find out the answer. I hope I never have to point a gun at a human. I hope no human ever considers saving his bacon by using a gun on me. I will never invite the confrontation. I will do what it takes to keep me and my family safe.
Kayak Bandit

Over the River and Through the Woods

Christmas is just around the corner. People are smiling and humming Christmas jingles. Me, I am really into the Christmas Spirit. 

This afternoon a wonderful lady opened her home to a big bunch of us that are friends and friends of friends. We all brought potluck in the early afternoon and stayed for a rousing singalong of ALL the old time Christmas Carols. This wonderful family spared no expense. She hired a professional musician to lead the singing, play a wonderful portable electronic piano and provide song lyrics. The fun thing is that not all of us knew everyone else as the afternoon began, but by the time the song were over, we were more than familiar with everyone, we were family. What is better than family at Christmas time? You are right, Nothing!

Another thing significant was that we did not have to shy away from the songs that Celebrate the Birth of Jesus. Who knows what Religion, or non-religion any of us held dear. But, without exception everyone sung with gusto. I am proud to claim Christ as my Savior. My singing loudly the familiar songs did not negatively affect anyone that might not Claim Christ. My delight does not fly in the face, at all, of those that do not share my happiness. 

I sure wish some of the people in charge of schools, public places and courts could understand the difference between State sponsored Religion and freedom of worship. No one could tell me to sing the songs with gusto and make me sing with passion. It effervesces. It is from within. No one can tell me to stop humming songs in my mind. It would probably make the song more durable. 

I just know that we had a wonderful time tonight. We stopped at times to define "lowing". A smart phone to the rescue. We joked about some of the times the author used poetic liberty to make something rhyme instead of make perfect sense. We had a wonderful evening. The very most fun for me was singing "The Twelve Days of Christmas". A different person volunteered to sing each of the twelve verses. I spoke up for "Five Golden Rings". I threw my whole being into the song. 

Merry Christmas everyone,

Kayak Bandit

Where's the Snow?

Oops, I just published this post before I was really ready to publish it.
The question I ask is "Where's the snow?" I sure is not here and the there is very little in the forecast. Some of you need to send me a thank you note. I am the very reason there is no snow. You see, I bought a new snow blower during a fall clearance sale at my neighborhood hardware  store. I seemed like a very good idea at the time. I did not need a new snow blower, I wanted one. The old one does not have power drive. I have to push and pull it. The new one has about ten speeds forward and two speeds back. The plan was to wait for a heavy snow and offer my old snow blower for sale on Craigs List. So much for that plan. maybe it will still work.
A couple years ago I bought a four wheeler with a snow blade. I admit the snow blade was pretty weak. Well, shortly after getting my good deal on the snow blower, I tore the snow blade off the Polaris 500 HO and completely revamped it. I have had no snow to test it out. I was so anxious to test it out that I used it to push dirt up to my new retaining wall. I sure worked good. At one point I got too close to the soft dirt and the 4 wheeler tipped against the wall. It was trapped there. Now, what was I to do?
The answer was simple. Go get the tractor. What tractor, you ask? The tractor with a big bucket for scooping up manure. That tractor. Yep, the tractor did just fine tugging the ATV away from the wall. I had to straighten one block that had been nudged out of place. Since I am on the subject of tractor, let me tell you how great my tractor will be for scooping snow. Sure, I bought it to scoop manure, but if it will scoop manure and dirt, I bet it will also scoop snow. Last year it was marginal at scooping snow. If the snow was driven on before I tried to scoop it up it was too hard for the scoop to cut. I did some revamping of the way the cutting edge was installed and I think it will work just fine.
I guess I have enough equipment to handle the snow. I have several hand shovels, two snow blowers, an awesome ATV and a tractor. So, bring on the snow, please.
I'm dreaming of a white Christmas! That sure has a nice ring to it. I may write a song.
Merry Christmas,
Kayak Bandit

Goodbye Flood

I expect many of you were chewing your nails with concern for me and my plugged pipes. For those of you that were not concerned, how could you?
I called Action Drain this morning at 8:15 and Chris arrived at 9:00. He very thoughtfully considered where to attack the problem. After about ten minutes he sent his snake into the clean out under the kitchen sink. Voila! Minutes later, the problem was merely a memory.
The really good thing is that his assessment saved me about fifty bucks because I thought the problem was farther out from the house. He was able to use a smaller snake than if he had cleaned where I thought. Super!
KB

It's a Flood

I am washing up a couple cooking utensils as I am making dinner. The potatoes are boiling away. The hamburger for the shepherds pie is simmering with the onions and garlic. I was going to rinse out the cans of beans and corn before I put them into the recycle bin.
And lo, it's a flood. the water was rising in the sink where I had rinse water running. I thought it was just a local thing because I had rinsed down the potato peels. But no, it was coming up in the other half of the double sink. I still thought it was local to this sink. I went down stairs to check. Wrong again. It was rising in the shower.
I guess I need to have the line from the house to the sewer cleaned again. I had it done about four years ago. The technician told me that with my concrete sewer line that I would likely need to do it every couple years. So, I guess I am about on track for the inevitable.
I'll call Action Drain tomorrow. There is no problem choosing them because of all the companies that clean sewer lines here in Spokane, they are the best. They are not the most expensive or the cheapest. But they truly are the best. And beside that the owners of the company are nice people.
By this time tomorrow I will be able to use my water to my heart's delight.
KB

Camping at McDonald Lake

My dad loved to fish. He would often spend the day working in the fields until just before sunset and head to the river to catch a walleye or northern. I never did enjoy the fishing as much as my dad. I suppose no one could. The mold was broken when he was born.
I said I did not enjoy fishing as much as my dad. That does not mean I had less fun on a fishing trip. Some of my antics probably disappointed my dad. I know he loved to tell the stories of his conquests to family and friends. I rarely stayed at my fishing post and caught as many as expected. Dad would flail the water until there was total darkness. Not me.
Nonetheless, I was often part of his fishing adventures. I would eagerly help load the car with our supplies. I would help get the boat into the water. One trip did not include the rest of our family. And, it was overnight. My dad and I were joined in our fishing camping trip by a family friend of my dad's. I think it was Leonard White.
This trip was really fun. Dad had made arrangements to camp next to McDonald Lake in a pasture. We were within walking distance of a regular campground about a quarter mile away. But, the campground probably cost more than we could afford. So, here we were, camped where you had to be careful where you stepped or your shoe would smell for a long time. The place had what I wanted. I could go for a stroll up into the trees and return with an armful of firewood. The lush green grass was a guarantee that a fire would not spread.
Dad went out fishing many times and left me at the campsite. Perfect with me be cause I could move about. Sitting in a boat was way to restrictive for me. I remember the pots and pans from moms kitchen. I remember the jars of produce from our pantry. This is the likely place that I learned to appreciate a personal fire. If you built a large fire, it was of little use for anything except warming one side of your body at a time. But, if you controlled your fire, you could move the fire aside enough to expose the coals. Then you could rest a pan on these coals.
I am sure dad caught many fish on this trip. I started figuring out some of life's important truths. The chief lesson was "More is not necessarily better".
KB

Whas Up

I think it is funny how our culture catches on to certain words or phrases. Here are a few that come to mind:
Just around the edges
Supercalifragilist Expialidosious
That's cool
Chillin
Here comes the Judge
Ten four good buddy
What's your twenty
Tall Clover
Your mother wears combat boots
Cruzin
C note
Franklin
Necking
Suck face
Brokeback
Rad
Livin large
Hows it hangin
You get the idea. Add your catch phrases by writing a comment. I will add them to my list. If you prefer, send me an email at kayakbandit@gmail.com. Either way I will add your list to my list. Let's see how big the list gets.
KB

Feed Store

Going to the feed store was very interesting. I was raised on a farm. We grew lots of corn, alfalfa, clover, oats, rye, and grass. I knew every inch of our land and I knew a lot about the surrounding farms. In the spring and summer months, I had a trap line. No, It was not to catch the well renowned beaver or the fox. Those were caught for their pelts. I did not do that. I trapped gophers.

So, I did know a lot about our little part of Heaven on Earth. I could tell you where there were some beautiful spruce trees that made a private little tent for me. Of course I could tell you about them if I wanted to. I probably would have kept it secret from you because I always believed God made this super special place just for me. 

I could have told you where the frogs grew the biggest. I could have told you where the crows nested and dropped their left over bones from the nest. I could have told you where the pine trees grew so close together that they would support you only if you did not lean out as you climbed. Of course I would lean out once I got quite high. At that point the skinny little pine would slowly bend and lower you gently back down to the ground. I really liked doing that.

What I did not know much about was how the products we raised on our farm were used by others. Say, all that corn that grew tall in perfectly neat rows. Or, the oats that were hauled away and sold. 

I got a glimpse of the answer whenever I went with my dad or grandpa to the feed store. If you walked into the front door of the feed store at the right time of year you would see a window into another room. Inside the room were people taking eggs and holding them up to a candle. After each was held to the candle they were then put into certain places based on what the person saw when the egg was held to the light. Candling eggs, it was called. Seems reasonable.

The neatest thing at the feed store was the big hole in the ground with the grates over the hole. Trucks would arrive and position themselves so the tailgate of the truck would spill into the center of the grated hole. Very few trucks had a way to hoist their bed up, so they would swing open the tailgate and let the load fall to the hopper in the ground. big trucks had to be careful not to open the gates all the way at first or they would overwhelm the hopper. 

The mystery of the feed store was how a truck could dump corn into the same hopper that soon would receive a truckload of say, oats or rye. Yet, when you wanted to buy cracked corn from the feed store, you got just that. nothing but cracked corn. No, there were no grains mixed in. Just, cracked corn. Over time I started to relate the answer to the many tubes rising up in helter skelter fashion from the roof of the place. You never noticed these tubes if you were at the feed store. You could see them as you approached. If your curiosity was strong, as mine was, you looked back at them as you rode away. 

The feed store always had a lot of dust resting on everything. There were places that the dust was just perfect to write my name. Of course, I wrote my name in the dust. Never once did my name remain visible until the next, oh so fun, visit to the feed store.

Kayak Bandit

Coffee

How did I acquire a taste for coffee? It makes me stop and think. You know I am thinking when the steam comes out my ears. Steam is pouring from my ears enough to make the windows in my home fog up. I am thinking.
I remember my first taste of coffee. It was unique. It was black coffee. My thought was how can I make this tolerable? I knew there were at least four ways to drink coffee. As I say, my first taste was black. That was one option, albeit rejected.
Another coffee choice was with sugar. I was aware that with enough sugar, almost anything started to taste good. Tempting choice.
Still another choice was to use cream. You see, cream was like sugar. If you wanted something to taste really good, you poured the cream to it. My childhood is full of examples of making something especially good with copious amounts of cream. Take for example, peaches or cereal. "Peaches and cream, ah ah ah ah ah" comes to mind. So, I had to try cream.
If, sugar was great and cream was also great, how about both in the coffee?
I tried these different ways to make my coffee good. I really wanted to be a part of the big people world. If I used bot cream and sugar it was way, way too rich. I just did not like it that way. Interestingly, the sugar failed to make the coffee much better. But, a little bit of real cream into a cup of coffee was very good. It turned coffee from something to tolerate to something to cherish and savor.
The choice of coffee, or not, was now an easy choice. I was a coffee drinker.
The choice to include cream in the coffee was a little more complicated. At the time I started drinking coffee, there was no problem getting the coffee or whatever condiment to drink with it. Coffee, yes or no. Cream, yes or no. So it was , Yes please, yes please.
Well, as I grew older, the World changed. Some yahoo invented hydrogenation. They would take totally crappy oils and hydrogenate them until they had a hint of the taste of cream. Hence, coffee creamer. The advertisements even suggested it tasted as good as cream. I am here to say it was nowhere near to as good as cream. It was a substitute. It was an impostor. It was NOT cream.
So why make such a big deal about something with so little impact? It was not a little impact. It was a huge problem. They changed the rules in the middle of the game. You see, some people bought into the push to use fake cream. With each new convert, the demand for real cream went drastically down. So, at a restaurant, for example, the fresh cream did not get used as much.
Not getting used as much meant the cream in the little cream container was not as fresh as in the old days. If you went to your favorite restaurant as they opened for the morning, you could expect the cream would be fresh. But, what if you showed up at say 11:00? If you mindlessly poured from the cream container, you often discovered the cream had curdled. Or worse, it looked just fine, but with a sip, you noticed the cream had actually soured. Oh, my gosh. Soured cream in coffee is not good.
What to do? The quandary was huge. I began thinking about whether the cream would be good or not before I committed to the coffee and cream. Other times it was not worth the risk so I would tolerate coffee without cream to avoid a bad taste of soured cream I remember a day when I was about thirty that I decided the struggle to get fresh, rich cream was not worth it. Coffee was still important. So I made the rational choice to drink my coffee black. It was a great choice. I soon learned to really like the coffee this way.
That does not say that I lost my appreciation of excellent coffee with some fresh, rich cream. When I get such coffee, I will almost always cradle the cup in my hands and think to myself, Heaven!

Huh

"What'd you say"? I heard that quite often this morning. In yesterday's blog I wrote that we sit next to the last person to arrive when attending the tractor breakfast. Well, today I sat to the left of a nice gentleman with hearing impairment in his left ear. Having some hearing loss, myself, I just rolled with it. The time spent each week is a lot of fun for me.
Now I need to get myself busy. I plan to build a nice warm fire in the shop and do "stuff". I am not sure exactly what I will do. I hope that the shop ends up more organized that it is currently. I gain a little on it some days. Some days I am ashamed to recall. Wish me luck.
KB

Apple Tree

Tomorrow morning a bunch of us wanna be farmers meet for breakfast. We meet at a little diner that sets up several tables in a row. As we arrive we sit next to whoever just got there. Last week I sat next to a very soft spoken man that was real interesting to talk to. We talked about many things and with each subject I was impressed with his knowledge and the ability to articulate. When we were ready to leave he offered his calling card to me. I noted that I know some other folks with the same last name. I rattled off the folks I was thinking of and it turns out he is their dad. It was fun to tell him that I have much respect for the great kids that he raised. It proves the point to me that apples don't fall far from the tree!

A Quiet Morning

As I look out the window, I see a frosted wonderland. Last night the moon looked full, even though I hear it will not be full for a couple days. This is a magical time of year. Many of us "kids" are watching the weather forecast hoping that Christmas will be white. Others are dreading a white world of bad roads and tough times getting their groceries home without slipping on some disguised black ice. Well, I am clearly in favor of the former. I like snow at this time of year. In anticipation of snow I bought a new 24" two stage snow blower. I already had a four wheeler atv with a wimpy snow plow so I made the wimpy into an awesome snowplow. As if these two are not enough, I also have a beautiful Allis Chalmers tractor with a big loader bucket. I think I am ready for the winter wonderland. Oh, yeah, I grew up in Minnesota atop an Allis Chalmers. So, I do know how to operate this magnificent machine. .
That handsome dog on the seat of "Allis" is Bandit. Of course, you agree with me that he is handsome.
Since last winter, I did some welding on the big bucked to make it better at scooping the hard packed snow up. Last year it would slide over the icy portions of the road. I am anxious for a chance to prove the worth of the modifications.
I say this morning is a quiet morning. I made one of my favorite breakfasts. You start with mashed potatoes from a previous meal. Melt a little butter in a hot skillet. Flatten out the mashed potatoes in the hot butter and cook that side until golden brown. Now flip them over and repeat on the other side. Add a couple eggs over easy and you have a wonderful breakfast for your quiet morning.
Later this morning I am going to see a demonstration for the Shopsmith Mark 7 at Lowes. A couple months ago I bought a spin off of the Shopsmith, a Woodcraft Multitool. It went out of business because of copyright infringement issues, but the accessories from Shopsmith are compatible with my Woodcraft. My Woodcraft works quite well for what it is. I have the saw, bandsaw, drill, scrollsaw, jointer, and sander. I am thinking of getting the lathe attachment as well. I have been watching on Craigslist for one, but have not found one yet.
Well, I am signing off for now. Have a nice quiet morning.
Kayak Bandit

A Long Silence

I used to write a blog nearly every day. What happened two years ago to let me stop so abruptly? I say, many things. The most likely cause was my OCD tendencies. When I get interested in something, I spend most of my energy working on that. The problem with this is sometimes something else captures my interest. It does not mean, necessarily, that the new interest trumps the old one(s), It just means that by nature of the beast, I start the cycle of spending most of my energy working on the newest one.
About the same time as I stopped blogging, I discover, I also quit Letterboxing. Now, I still like all that drew me into the later hobby. So what is going on here. Maybe it is that while I was running out of topics to write about for my blog, I was also working hard to secure my future retirement. It was quite a rude thing to discover myself fired from a job that I had been employed at for eighteen years. At times I liked the new winter freedom while disliking the lack of certainty for the future.
I suppose there are lots of people wishing they had it as good as I do, but I still think fair play should have dealt me a better hand. I had worked harder than almost anyone else in government. I had only been late to work a few times, and never without calling to say how late I would be. I had tried to enforce the rules and policies. I often ask myself if I am bitter. I always think it should be true that honesty and hard work prevail. So, I would say that I am not bitter, exactly. I would say I am jaded.
I hope this blog gets noticed by those that used to follow it. I also hope that I will again make regular posts. The task of composing my thoughts often help me to understand the subject myself.
I see by the calendar that Christmas is just around the corner. Merry Christmas to everyone. And remember, Jesus Christ is the Reason for the Season!

Winter Break

I dislike using the term "Winter Break" to describe what we have always called "Christmas Break'. To me, if we take a break because we want to drink a cup of coffee we should call that a "coffee break". If we need to go to the bathroom, should'nt we call that a "potty break"?
Okay, then. If we celebrate the birthday of the most influential person to ever live, let's call it Christmas!
I say this to lead into talking about my "winter break". I am layed off from work over the winter. I call this a winter break. I have lots of fun things planned for my winter break. I will celebrate Christmas for an extended time at my family's homes. I may even put up Christmas lights this year.

Third Rock Shrinks

Today I was amazed at how small the World is at times. Have you ever bumped into someone at a distant airport? Has someone called your name when you were shopping in the next town over? Have you been asked "Is your name (fill in your name) when buying produce?
Well, I must say, I have one that tops the cake. My younger daughter called me last night. Right out of her mouth came "Who is that person that posted on your Facebook page saying she is vacationing in Lincoln City?" So I explained that she is a lovely friend from my David Douglas High School in East Portland. I went on to say we have stayed connected over the years.
So, next I am asked if I think she would mind going to a Lincoln City pizza place and retrieve a jacket for my grandson. She explained the coat had been left behind while vacationing a few days ago. They had already continued on toward home in the Seattle area before they noticed it was missing.
I assured my daughter that my friend would be the type of person to volunteer to do that. I pointed out that she is on the reunion commitee from our High School. My daughter was not convinced it was okay to contact her at first, but eventually she was satisfied it would be fine.
As suspected, my friend was very willing to help out. So, I called back to my daughter. I gave her the friend's mobile phone number. I did not here from either of them for a long time. It seems they had much to talk about. I think they talked for close to an hour. She text messaged me this morning and assured me the coat is in her possesion.
Okay, so the next step, in this amazing tangle, will involve my ex-wife that lives in Portland, currently vacationing in Seattle with my other daughter. The plan calls for my friend and my ex to connect when they both return to Portland. My ex will figure out how to get the coat back to my grandson.
Whew!
When you think you are wasting too much time on line, remember this story. You never know when Facebook will save the day!
KB

Our Dad

Our dad is a very special person. Dad has been there for all nine of us children through thick and thin. We can find some shortcomings if we look for shortcomings, but I want the world to know his one amazing quality. Love.
Dad was a well respected man in the Verndale, Minnesota farming community that I grew up in. Dad managed to buy the machinery that he and our neighbors needed to harvest our crops. Our neighbors would hire dad to thresh their grains. These were especially fun times for the farmers because we would all share the effort. Each farm would supply tractors and wagons to haul the bundles of grain to dad's threshing machine. Lunch and dinner was served by the women. You have not lived until you eat a threshing meal. Yum!
Dad has a foundation of faith in Jesus Christ. Dad was grateful for what we had. Dad openly gave thanks to God. http://picasaweb.google.com/kayakbandit/HessFamilyStuff#5178444424297914194
Dad was and still is very stoic. I did not see dad cry when mom died, but we all know how very much he cared for my mom. The same is true of his expression of love to each of us. Dad did not give flowers or flowery praise. Did showed a sense of his love in less overt ways. I remember often, Dad would tell about our accomplishments to our neighbors and friends. When I would overhear him speaking well of me, I determined to do even better. I knew he had noticed.
Because of his stoicism, he did not hold us or hug us. One way to get near him was in church. I tried very hard to sit next to dad in church. We would start out with me sitting up straight. After time, I would start slouching toward dad. If I flopped over against dad, he would make me sit up again, but if I slouched slowly toward him, he would allow me to snuggle close and feel his strength and smell the scent of a real man.
I am thankful that I have such a wonderful man for a role model.
Kayak Bandit

Freedom

I like to make my own choices.
I like to pick Huckleberry Heaven ice cream to eat in a waffle cone. I like to wear a Gonzaga hat. I like to go to bed early and wake up early. I like to leave the tv on even when I am not watching it. I like to have one dog and one cat. I like to drive my Jeep Cherokee. I like to scratch where it itches. I like spending too much time at my computer.
I like having to earn money enough to do the things I like.
When I was a baby, I got what I wanted without earning it. My wonderful mother anticipated my needs and supplied them for me. I am very glad I grew to support myself without hanging onto her breast. I am also very gratefull for the many breast feedings that led me to my independence. This nurturing made me strong. From the very beginning, it was well known to all that one day I would be weaned.
As a nation, I fear we have way too many people unwilling to give up the breast feedings after they should be weaned. Think. What would have happened to my mom if each of her babies continued to breast feed. Nine grown kids getting their nurishment from one pair of breasts? She knew when it was time to reduce the nurturing. This wonderful country should learn from my mother. Stop allowing so many people to hang onto the free programs. Wean people from the dole so they can discover the fulfillment of independence and success on their own.
Our freedom to succeed or fail is the very reason our Country declared it's independence.
Happy Independence Day from Kayak Bandit

Where Am I?

Boy, A lot has been going on in my life. I gave up on blogging for a while because I only had mean things to say. I was angry that I had lost my job. I was angry that God was allowing my mom to suffer with dementia. There were so many reasons to be angry.
Well, I think I am turning the corner on all of that. My house is refinanced with easier payments. My new job is pretty good. My new computer is nice. We had a wonderful letterboxing bash here in Spokane. Bandit is completely healthy. Stephanie and Jessica came for a visit. Jennifer and family are coming to visit in August. I will soon have another joy. Emelia will be born in about one month. I am making good progress on egress from my basement bedroom. The shots I am taking for allergies is working. My kitchen is marvelous. I am losing some weight with the rigorous work schedule.
All in all, Life is good. So, in answer to my question - - "Where am I?" - - I am in a happy place again. Expect some regular posts again. I plan to revisit my favorite subject. That is, my wonderful childhood in Minnesota.
See ya soon,
Kayak Bandit

Cancer Threat

So, I went to the doctor on Wednesday to have him look at the roof of my mouth. It had gotten very sore the night before while eating popcorn. You know the kind of popcorn I am talking about. The kind where you buy the whole kernel yellow popping corn that makes such big pops. The kind where you pop the corn in corn oil and drizzle real butter and salt on it. You get the idea. All was going fine with the popcorn until it felt like one of the hulls had stuck to the roof of my mouth. Each time I tried to feel the hull and remove it, it made me gag. I resolved it by taking my dentures out and ignoring the annoyance as much as possible.
I went to work the next morning, but it was still bothering me. We had plenty help for the day, so I asked to go to the doctor. The doctor asked how I was doing and we conversed about the many stresses in my life. Then he asked me to point out the problem in my mouth. I described it to him and he gets out the light deal and points into my mouth. One very quick look, and he said I needed to go to a specialist because it looked like cancer. He tells the nurse to schedule an appointment with a specialist as soon as possible.
So, I go to the specialist on Friday morning. What a great team of people at this office. The doctor is very understanding and calms me down even before he starts to look in my mouth. Eventually he looks into my mouth and sees nothing noteworthy. He asks me to point to the spot with a tongue depressor. Once I did this he sees the problem and suggest I had burned it on some hot food. Well, I remembered eating something hotter than normal before the popcorn, and that is likely the answer to the scare.
He told me to return if it gets worse. Well, it is getting better. I expect it will be fine in another day or so.
Kayak Bandit