The National Anthem

We were talking, during a Thanksgiving get-together, about the lyrics to the Star Spangled Banner. There are four verses to the song, but we sing only the first, most times.
I agree with whoever of my relatives said that perhaps the fourth verse SHOULD be the one we know and sing. What do you think?

Oh, say can you see by the dawn's early light
What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming?
Whose broad stripes and bright stars thru the perilous fight,
O'er the ramparts we watched were so gallantly streaming?
And the rocket's red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there.
Oh, say does that star-spangled banner yet wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave?

On the shore, dimly seen through the mists of the deep,
Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes,
What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep,
As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses?
Now it catches the gleam of the morning's first beam,
In full glory reflected now shines in the stream:
'Tis the star-spangled banner! Oh long may it wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!

And where is that band who so vauntingly swore
That the havoc of war and the battle's confusion,
A home and a country should leave us no more!
Their blood has washed out their foul footsteps' pollution.
No refuge could save the hireling and slave
From the terror of flight, or the gloom of the grave:
And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!

Oh! thus be it ever, when freemen shall stand
Between their loved home and the war's desolation!
Blest with victory and peace, may the heav'n rescued land
Praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation.
Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,
And this be our motto: "In God is our trust."
And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!

Happy Thanksgiving

Today is Thanksgiving Day. It is a national holiday, made so during the Lincoln administration. It is meant to be a time of thanksgiving. It has, as most things do over time, morphed into something far different than the original intent.

That’s not necessarily bad. As society changes, these kinds of things change with it. Some of the changes are seen as good; others as unnecessary or even bad. The great thing about the holiday is that families can celebrate it (or not) pretty much any way they choose. And that in itself is something for which to be grateful.

Tomorrow is Black Friday, the day where the world is supposed to go shopping and give new life, especially this year, to an economy that many think is in sore need of a boost. I don’t plan to go shopping tomorrow. I plan to work. I have not made all of my purchases this year, but know what I will be getting and will buy them when the opportunity presents itself. Besides, what I want to buy won’t be on any sales racks tomorrow anyway. When I’m ready to get my items, I’ll go the store, go right to the display, choose the item, and pay for it all in the expanse of (hopefully) less than 15 minutes. And I’ll be done. If that means I’m not doing enough to prop up the economy, then I’m sorry, but that’s the best I’ll do.

Sometime this weekend, I need to at least formulate a plan for putting up outdoor lights. I’m not looking forward to it, but think it would be “best” if I made the attempt. Once up, I enjoy them; I just don’t like to do the work. Maybe I should hire someone to do my lights for me. There are people that do that in the Wichita area. Hmm. That opens up a whole new thought process…I’ll have to give that some thinking time.

Actually, there are people in the Wichita area that will do just about anything for you. They’ll shop, clean, drive, poop-scoop, trim, haul, deliver, build, pet-bathe, sit, cook, winterize…you name it; someone here will do it for a fee.

Happy Thanksgiving.

What is Important

I was coming back from my brother’s place this evening after going there to use his router on a piece of plywood. He lives in the Valley Center area, about 12 miles from where we live. It’s a rather good drive up there and back, taking about 20 minutes in decent traffic.

I was thinking, in the darkness of the cab of the pickup, of where we were a year ago at this time. As you may recall, we were staying with my brother in their home because we lost our positions at the children’s home where we lived and worked. We had no house to go to, no place to call home, and had to find something quickly. We packed our things and moved them into my brother’s big shed, then occupied a 12 foot by 12 foot bedroom in their home for four months until we found work and a place to live. During that time, we took unemployment, got ourselves back together, enjoyed the safety and warmth of a home, looked for work, and made plans for the future.

Of course much has changed in a short time. I haven’t a clue how or why things happened (and continue to happen) to us as they did, but came away from that experience with a renewed sense of what is truly important and what is not.

Family is important.
Faith is important.
Things are not important.
Encouragement is important.
Self-motivation is important.
Appearances are not important.
Church is important.
Maintaining some semblance of normal living is important.
Being first (# 1, primo, or however you want to say it) is not important.

Other important things might be:

Being gracious, thankful receivers of help.
Being as useful as possible in whatever circumstance.
Continuing cultivating relationships with family and friends.
Sharing.
Continuing to give.
Willingness to serve.

Some things to lose all together, especially during times like that are:

Pride
Selfishness
Pity
Revenge/Payback
Complaining
Sense of entitlement
Laziness

Some list, huh? Take a look at them and decide what you need to work on BEFORE you find yourself in some kind of predicament.

More Random Thoughts

I’ve done a couple of “random thoughts” blogs lately, and kind of like that idea. Here are a few more thoughts that have been floating around among the cobwebs recently.

I have to think that God perhaps put within animals (I am thinking specifically about dogs) the ability to help humans with things that humans can no longer do. Seeing eye dogs, therapy dogs, and dogs that sniff out narcotics, petroleum products, bodies, and other things are invaluable. Dogs are now being trained to help combat wounded veterans with the activities of daily living.

We had inservice day at the home today. We did all of our required inservices at various stations, and employees came in and went from station to station to be inserviced. I had one of the stations, and had a chance to observe the parade of employees that came through. One or two were men; all the others women. I was taken by the diversity of our workforce and struck by the fact that many of these employees were living paycheck to paycheck, had basic needs that they could not meet, were in relationships that were not good for them, and were generally struggling with life and living. Even though I know that many people live less-than-stellar lives, I still would be surprised if I knew the life story of many of those I work with daily.

The sunsets the past several days have truly been superb!

My wife and I have been blessed far beyond what we have ever thought or imagined in our 34 years together.

Why does the Dillons brand of grape pop taste better than Pepsi or Coke at the end of the work day?

I think computer people purposely keep the operation and maintenance of software and hardware complicated in order to maintain jobs for themselves.

Sunday is probably my favorite day of the week. It wasn’t always so.

I’m not sure why, but it seems that the general population is getting younger.

On that same note, I am certain that there are doctors out there who aren’t yet 18 years old (at least they don’t LOOK 18).

I wonder how many people within five miles of our home will go hungry this Thanksgiving. I wonder how many are hungry right now with nothing to eat.

What, in heaven’s name, do I have to complain about?

Who Knows?

It has ended up a good day. This morning, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be part of this day or not; however, it ended on a couple of positive notes.

First, as I was going to my office, a resident stopped me and we chatted for a minute or so. She has multiple issues, and may never leave the home. Nevertheless, she seems to always have a good word, something funny, or just a smile for those who pass by. She wished me a good weekend, and I did the same for her.

Second, the computer guru for the place (our son) got the printer that we had tried to put on the network up and running. Now, we’ve said that before only to have it not work the next day. But I have good vibes about this time and think we (he) got it going for good. That’s been something weighing on me even though I wasn’t the primary person responsible for getting it going.

Shortly, we will go to my brother’s place for soup and a good time. We always get together on Friday evenings, and this time they’ve invited us all to their place. I look forward to the time.

Although much in the day was negative, or was something that nagged to be done, fixed, or dealt with, those two positives seem to outweigh all of the other and made the day a good close to the work week. Maybe that will carry forward on to Monday as I go into yet another work week. Or maybe not. Who knows?

I think I know, or should know. After all, I am the one who has charge of my attitude as the next work week comes on.

The Small Things

I want you to know that I started a blog about the thunderstorm moving through, and the power went off. Not having a UPS, I lost a couple of paragraphs, which I will try to recapture here.

As I sit here this evening, I am witnessing what may be the last true thunderstorm of 2008. The thunder is heavy and frequent, lighting is dancing all over the sky, and the rain is coming down heavily. The radar shows a line of thunderstorms moving through the area, with rather heavy returns on the radar echo.

Most of today, it has rained. It started about 9:30 this morning, and has rained more or less gently all day. But tonight, it seems that Someone wanted to flex some muscles, so we now have thunder, lightning, heavy rain, and just a wisp of hail on the roof.

(What follows will be the post-outage part of the blog.)

We are still experiencing thunder almost continuously, although it’s farther away than it was a few minutes ago. Lightning is still all over the sky, and it’s still raining, albeit slower.

I stood outside for a few minutes just after the storm started. I wanted to experience possibly the last display of spring/summer weather this year. I don’t know why; it just seemed important to me.

I seem to relish these kinds of things in life more and more. Smiles on children, orb spiders spinning big webs in the fall, pleasant smells, sunsets (I don’t get up early enough for sunrises), our music worship on Sundays, good coffee, rain, time with loved ones, and a host of other things that are for many routine, small, and unnoticed are for me some of life’s best moments.

I hope you are enjoying the small things in life. What are some of the small things you enjoy? Do you seek them out? After all, those small things are really, I think, God’s way of saying that He loves you and wants you to enjoy all that life has to offer. And we are blessed that it offers us so much; we are blind, ignorant, and idiotic in that we enjoy it so little.

Coming Together

“I can’t believe you’re here!” So was the exclamation when we moved to the Wichita area a few years ago, spoken by my sister, who has lived in this area for many of her years. It was, I think, an exclamation of happiness that three of the six of us siblings were now within a few miles of each other.

Still within a few miles of each other, we welcomed yet another family member to this area yesterday. And in some ways, I can’t believe he’s here. Yesterday, our younger son and his family (and our grandbabies) put their worldly possessions on a truck, and with the help of some family members, me included, drove it all to Wichita and unloaded it at a house that will shortly become a home.

Our family is close by any standard, and we enjoy the company of one-another. We have made a conscious effort, over the years, to get along, forgive, laugh, enjoy, cry, and revel in each others’ company. It started before our parents died, and the commitment only grew following their passing. No one in our family is a black sheep regardless of what they might have done in the past or are doing now, and no one in our family is an island, being alone. Even if someone would prefer to be that way, it would be very difficult to maintain that for any length of time because the love, I think, would be overpowering.

We are indeed getting older. We are not the young, vibrant, and energetic people we once were. Our reunions aren’t so much about going out and doing anymore as they are sitting, reminiscing, and catching and keeping up. We enjoy morning coffee much more than we used to, and think the grandkids have more energy than we ever had.

As we ate pizza just before we left town yesterday with our son and all of his stuff, a flood of memories came through my mind…so many memories that I couldn’t process them all. We’ve moved…a lot. And we’ve helped others move…a lot.

We have histories in several of the communities that we’ve moved to or from or helped someone move to or from. In our son’s case, my history with Emporia, Kansas where they lived began in the late 1950’s when my oldest brother moved there to go to school. It continued when next brother went there as well and continued when my niece on my wife’s side of the family moved to the area. Then our oldest went to school there, and our younger son moved there with his family shortly after that. You get the idea.

And it’s tough sometimes to let some of that go and live in the present. But do that we must, savoring the past and learning from it, growing all the time as we meld past experiences with present situations to create future decisions. It all comes together, and it all fits, somehow. The trick is to accept that at face value and just continue on life’s adventure as God continues to unfold to each of us our own personal and unique present tense.

A New Addition

Friday evening we had our family over for pizza. When sis arrived, I was out on the drive looking at a stray dog that had wandered into our neighborhood. One of my neighbors had earlier told me that the dog had been here for several hours and possibly a day or so, so his daughter put out some water for it. He said they called animal control to come and get it.
When I told my sister what I was looking at, she immediately saw the dog and tried to befriend it (I knew she would do that). One thing led to another and before I knew it, the dog was in our back yard and she had gone to the store for some food.
Coming back, she fed her and said she would be back today to take her to the humane society. When she came back today, that had changed to taking the dog to the vet to be checked out. It was obvious that the dog had been either homeless for some time or had been abused. But she was friendly and seemed to be behaved.
Saturday, the vet said that she was in basically good shape, didn't have heartworms, and had a bacterial infection on her skin that made her hair shed. She has several cracked or broken teeth, and is not neutered.
As of now, the dog (Lydia is her name, since she was found on Lydia street) is at my sister's house and is being medicated for the infection and treated to a bath (that should be interesting). Sister's hubby isn't too thrilled about this whole affair, but she thinks he will come around.
I know that sometimes it isn't worth it to save an animal like this. The cost is just prohibitive. However, it doesn't take that much to take it to the vet and have it examined...then make the determination as to what to do. I also know that it isn't possible for one person to take in every stray that comes along and do what Sis did.
But isn't it good to know that there are still people in the world who have compassion for those (animal or human) who are in need. There's an attitude there that manifests in deeds such as this...an attitude that is more and more being shoved to the background as greed and selfishness come front and center. Christians are called to be salt, light, and leaven. I don't have time to go into the theological explanations of that statement, but will only say that it is more critical than ever in this day and time that we truly become what we are asked to be.

Make a Difference

This afternoon was just drop dead gorgeous. The temperature was just right, the wind was a breeze, and the sky was clear blue as far as I could see. Fall is here, and the trees are shedding leaves that are brightly colored and hued. Native grasses are subtly beautifying the landscape with their seed heads and multi-colored stems. What could be better?

Well, a lot of things could be better, in my estimation. We could have a better election campaign season with ads that are not misleading or outright wrong. We could have a favorable international balance of trade. We could have elected officials that truly take our interests to heart instead of the interest of how to maintain their positions. Individuals could take others’ best interests to heart as well in the form of respect, dignity, deference, and humility.

I could go on and on about what is wrong with the world today. However, I must stop and ask myself, “What am I doing about it?” Yes, me. What am I doing about the elected officials, or treating people with respect, or the balance of trade? What am I doing about the issues that affect me and about which I complain? What can I do? How can I do anything about some of these? I feel so helpless and powerless.

I’m not going to give you any answer to the question of “What can I do?” Instead, I’m going to leave it to you to seriously ponder that question in response to the things you complain about, and find something that you can do to help alleviate that issue. It doesn’t matter to me if the issue is homelessness, the deterioration of morality, abortion, corruption, violence, or something else.

You can do something. You are not powerless. We hear and read regular accounts of people who have and are making a difference. Ordinary people in an ordinary position in life are making extraordinary differences in the world. If you still are clueless, Google “make a difference” and take a look at some of the URL’s that come up.

It’s easy to complain. It’s a lot tougher to find an answer and a response that is appropriate. But that’s your task right now. And if you’d like to tell me just one thing that you complain about and what you’ve decided to do about it, email me or comment on this blog. If not, that’s OK; just don’t complain to me about whatever it is that gripes at you.

Striking!!

I was standing outside our church building this evening waiting for classes to begin. We often are early for classes due to our eating at the building every Wednesday (they serve a meal there for anyone who wants to eat there…it’s $3.00 a person) at 6pm. Classes don’t start until 7pm, so there’s usually some time available.

In any event, I was standing outside the building when another member came to me. I said I was outside because it was quieter out here than inside. He remarked the same and said he had come outside to take a cell phone call from Guyana. Guyana is a South American country. This man does mission work there a couple of times a year, so the phone call wasn’t unusual for him to receive.

What struck me, though, as I wondered on out into the parking lot, was the fact that someone in South America dialed a number (actually, they probably punched in various tones that represented numbers) and a cell phone in central Wichita Kansas USA rang and these two people carried on a conversation. What an amazing technology telephony is! How wonderful! Then it really hit me.

Why is it that our government seems to have so much trouble counting votes in an election?

The End

Today, we went to our house in the small community southwest of here for what we hope is the final time. If all goes well, this coming Tuesday we will sign papers handing over title to the property to the buyers. When that happens, a long history with that property and with our family comes to an end.

Dad bought the place in 1939 and moved his bride to it that year. They lived there, raised a family of six children, and made a house a home for 45 years or so. Following their deaths in the mid-1980’s, I bought the place out of the estate and raised my family there. We moved away in 2000 for what we thought were greener pastures, and have rented the place out since then. Now it is for sale, and now we think it is sold.

Today, we got the last of the personal items out of the house and outbuildings that we want to keep. We dug up some day lily bulbs and also dug up some old fashioned rose bush roots that we’ll try to transplant. I don’t know how successful either of these ventures will be, but we’ll see.

When we were about ready to go, I took one last look around in the house. Although it looks nothing like it did when we lived there due to wear and tear and some bad renters, it seemed that each window, each doorway, each wall, each item I looked at released a flood of old memories about that particular item. Some memories came from the time I lived there as a child. Others came from the time I was the Dad in the house and was helping raise our kids. But they all came, and came in a flood. Some choking up came as well as I realized that what has been a part of my life from my birth was about to be taken from me, leaving only memories.

Just before I left the house, I moved a small folding table that was remaining there into the middle of the living room. I placed a “Dad cap” (family will know what I’m talking about here) on the table, looked at it for a moment, then went out the front door and locked it. I know it won’t be there long, as the new people will be working on the house soon. But it’s there right now, and in a sense will remain there for many years to come, because a neighbor came over while we were there. Among other observations he said that the house will always be known as “The (my last name) House” in the community.

And that’s just fine with me.

The Inevitable

It seems that in the span of about three days, the trees changed from green to all the colors of fall. I’m not certain why, but the air indeed is more crisp and for the first time this morning, I noticed frost on our roof and on the grass in the yard. Fall is not my favorite season of the year because it portends winter and the dying, so to speak, of the things that are outdoors. I much prefer to see spring come than fall.

Having said that, I also know that fall is inevitable. I should make the most of it and enjoy what God provides, and I do. The crisp air, the smell of the morning, the bright fall days, and the coolness of the environment are both appreciated and enjoyed. I also know that winter isn’t far away. Knowing that, I always sort of skip thoughts of winter and immediately look forward to the coming spring, counting the days until the solstice and beyond.

Sometimes we allow work, issues, problems, and other things to interfere in our perception of what is going on around us. Oh, life goes on, and these things happen with regularity whether we’re aware of them or not, but it’s so much better for us when we take the time to perceive and appreciate.

It doesn’t take a lot of time or effort to do that. Just a few minutes a day looking out a window or standing on the drive in front of the house can do it. Looking at the night sky for 20 to 30 seconds is sometimes all it takes. Or finding a place to go out and dig in the dirt for awhile, if you have such a place, can be very fulfilling.

No, it doesn’t have to be a lot, and it doesn’t have to be much. We really can appreciate what we might call the small things in life. And by doing that on a regular basis, we gradually find ourselves less concerned with the latest drop of the Dow or the most recent failure of government and more enamored with those things that have preceded those other things by eons and will for eons to come outlast anything we can devise. And therein may just be our sanity.

More Thinking

Some more things I’ve thought about recently:

A fertile hen’s egg goes from a single cell to a fully-formed chicken in 21 days. The chicken is, almost from the moment of hatching, capable of drinking, eating, walking, scratching in the dirt, and many other instinctive things that chickens do. How can all of that information be packed into a single cell and that cell transformed in 21 days into a complex organism?

While we’re on the subject of chickens, if you know anything of the habits and ways of chickens in their more natural environment (on the ground or free-range), you know also that they are a marvelous and wondrous creation. They may not have the largest brains in the world, but they have been given wonderful and amazing abilities by the Creator.

Can anyone tell me why many people say “hot water heater” instead of just “water heater”? I’m guilty. Are you?

So, is it really ArKANsas? Or is it ARkanSAW?

Do politicians running for office ever really answer the questions posed to them in debates?

According to Wiki, no century ever starts on a Sunday. If true, isn’t that strange?

Why do morticians mostly all look the part?

I wonder what percentage of our national oil consumption is taken up by private automobiles? That’s where everyone is wanting to conserve, but are there other parts of our society that take as much or more oil daily that could conserve as well? What about commercial vehicles? Industrial uses of oil? Other uses?

If the universe is young (circa 5,000 years), but God created it to look mature and old, did God deceive us?

Since some of the months of our calendar are named after gods of myth and legend, should Christians adopt other names for our months? Is the use of these names tacit approval of these gods? Isn’t this the same basic argument used by those who don’t celebrate Christmas because of its pagan roots?

Will we ever get back to civility and cooperation in Washington?

Serious Quiet Time

We worship at a downtown Wichita church. It is only a block from Century II, and is on the East bank of the Arkansas River. This day, as we got out of the car in the parking lot to go in for services, I took notice of the sounds that were invading my ears at that particular time.

An EMS siren was blaring only a couple of blocks from us (As an old EMS attendant, I can still tell the sirens [EMS, Fire, Police] apart by their sounds…mostly). Waiting at the intersection, a car had its radio on entirely too loudly, and was entertaining the whole neighborhood with some kind of something some people call music. A motorcycle pulled up to the light, too, and when the light changed, the throaty sound of a too-loud cycle muffler sort-of killed all other noise for an instant.

Off in the distance were church bells, certainly electronic or perhaps digital, and the general noise of a downtown on a weekend occupied the few quieter seconds when something else didn’t fill the air.

I don’t remember thinking much of those thirty or so seconds between our car and the building, except to think that it seemed noisier than normal, and I hoped for some quiet once in the building. Now that I think about it a little more, I am reminded that for many people, noise and activity are what help keep the demons away. I don’t know if any of these noisemakers had any demons working on them, but think about it.

Most of us have to have some kind of noise or activity going on just about all of our waking hours. The TV has to be going, even if no one is watching. The radio or some kind of music is on in most vehicles all the time. We have radios or stream audio over our computers at work. IPOD’s and other such devices are so commonplace now that we don’t think about them. Why?

Could it be that we don’t want to think about the things we many times think about when we happen to wake at 3am and can’t go back to sleep? It’s quiet then, and we are there only with our thoughts (and maybe a snoring partner). It’s then that we think of job security, our financial situation, our relationships with others, or things even more serious, like our mortality, the existence of God, guilt, forgiveness, and our eternal future.

But as long as we’re preoccupied with something else, these thoughts seem to be pushed out of our minds. They come back, though, as soon as they get the opportunity. We can’t really shake them permanently. We can only suppress them for a time.

I don’t think the people downtown that day were intentionally making noise in order to briefly chase away serious thought (with the possible exception of the radio person), but I do think that we should probably take more time to think about who God is, our relationship with Him, and His with us. And that requires, for the most of us, some serious quiet time alone.

Cattle Call

Tonight, we went to the Prairie Rose and enjoyed a barbecue dinner and western entertainment. Now, I’m not normally a western-type person, but this is an enjoyable place just northeast of Wichita, and I urge you to try it if you haven’t yet.

In any event, during the entertainment, one of the songs the group sang had to do with cattle calls and someone calling cattle. I don’t know the name of the song or the words, and that isn’t important. And for those of you who don’t know, stockmen of old had certain calls that they used to call in their herds of cattle from the pastures when it was time to feed them, count them, doctor them, or whatever needed to be done. Some of the cattle would accept training to come when called and the others would follow.

During that song, I was reminded of the calls of my dad. He had two calls that he used at the pasture northwest of town where he kept his cattle. I can play them in my mind as if I heard them day before yesterday.

The first was a loud suc-calf call with the emphasis on the second syllable. His voice started rather high, but not too high, and it went up rather than down, kind of like he was asking a one-word question. There wasn’t much melody to it…it was just kind of a yelling of that word somewhere around middle C on the piano.

The second was a soo-ook in definite falsetto. The o’s in the word were pronounced the same as in the word took. This call started somewhere around the C above middle C, went down during the mid point to somewhere around G or A flat, then went up a half step or so at the end. The emphasis was on the first syllable primarily, and on the end of the word secondarily, with the middle note just a kind of connecting tone.

This second call could (and did) put chills up your spine. I don’t know what it was about it that did that, and I don’t know if any other of us siblings had the same response to it, but when he used that second call more than just a time or two, you knew he meant business. That second call also carried farther than the other, many times from the lot all the way to the far end of the pasture over a half mile away.

Dad had a kind of a bond with his herds. Oh, they would come and go, and some did better for him than others. But he’d talk with them, move among them, feed them well, doctor them when needed, and never allowed flies to torment them longer than it took for us to make the time to go up and spray them. We used a hand sprayer so as to not have the loud noise of a mechanical one upset them.

Once in awhile, there was one in a herd that just seemed incorrigible, and he’d sell him so as, it seems, to not spoil his experience with the rest of the herd. Dad never abused his cattle. He never used whips, prods, electric shock, or other means of that kind to get them moving, and he didn’t appreciate it when others came to load them up to take to sale and did use that kind of thing. He believed, I think, in the basic dignity of all of God’s creatures, even those that were destined for slaughter, recognizing that they were providing him with a means to feed and clothe his family. And he appreciated that, and treated them with respect.

I could tell of times he sent me to the pasture to bring the herd up to the lot, of times with the branding irons, of giving shots, treating for pink eye, chopping ice, filling the tank, fixing the windmill, shoveling grain, putting up hay or silage, cleaning out manure, fixing fence, chasing down strays that would get out, going to the sale barn, putting up electric fence on fall wheat, mowing prairie hay, spraying for flies, and a host of other experiences with cattle, now only memories. Those were good times, and times I’ll always cherish.

Dad’s cattle calling days are long over, and his voice has long been silenced by death. But the flood of memories that have come over me as I write this have caused me to appreciate even more my upbringing and the hard work and incredible risks that my parents took to provide for us. And in so doing, they provided us with life lessons that are with us all today in some way, shape, or form (respect for life, care for those [human or animal] who cannot care for themselves, relief of suffering, providing for family, perseverance, patience, the miracle of the creation, and a host of others). We are blessed.

Ramblings

Some things I’ve been wondering (or thinking about) recently.

Does anything taste better than vine ripe cantaloupe?

Why do some people seem so helpless? Today, one of the staff at the home told me that an alarm wasn’t shutting off when the “off” button was pressed. She had changed batteries, checked the wiring, etc. It turned out that a switch on the side of the alarm disables the “off” button when it is engaged, and the switch was engaged. When I turned the switch off, the alarm worked fine.

Is it possible to go back to the Andy Griffith Show times? Times that are slower, simpler, and more sensible, if you will? Or do we have to satisfy our longing for those times by watching the reruns?

Why does Dillons not have Post Grape Nuts Flakes on the shelf?

Does anything taste better than fresh, ripe pineapple?

If Pat Roberts, incumbent candidate for the U.S. Senate from Kansas “listened to Kansans” in voting “NO” on the bailout, and if he’s been “working for Kansas” all this time (as his campaign ads say), what things has he been working on? Does he have an alternative to the bail out he’s presented to the Congress that he developed by listening to Kansans? Or is he just a “NO” voter and a complainer?

I’m thinking that Barack Obama is underrated.

I’m thinking that John McCain will run the Executive Branch just like he’s run his campaign…terribly.

Does anything taste better than a tree ripened peach?

I’m still thinking about who I should vote for.

How do composers of music think of the tunes and harmonies that they eventually put down on paper? Do they have all of these ditties of songs playing in their heads continually? How can classical composers keep all of the parts straight? Are composers a little “strange” in some ways?

If gasoline has fallen in price, can’t one save even more money now by continuing to drive conservatively compared to driving like a wild banshee? Why, then, do so many people continue to drive like, you know, a banshee?

Does anything taste better than roast beef, cooked rice, and brown gravy?

The Rub

I got up early this morning for a quick trip to Topeka to visit a friend. Waking at about 5am, I left the house about 5:35. I was reminded at that time that the early morning is kind of a whole ‘nuther world.

The first glimpses of the morning dawn didn’t come until I was well on my way up the turnpike at about 6:20. The sun actually appeared about an hour later. Being able to watch the proceedings of the coming of the sun and the daytime was a good thing.

We seem to be far too cloistered in our homes, cars, and businesses any more to notice the things that keep our lives ordered and that are really the more important. We instead fret about the stock market and our 401k’s, the boss at work, or when we’ll be able to go shopping next.

All of these things might have an element of importance in them (at least for us), but they of themselves are all manufactured things…things that we deal with and have as a result of the human society and human interaction with nature. Things like the sunrise, however, aren’t dependent on us. In fact, the sun can rise very well with nary a human inhabiting this planet.

And maybe that’s the rub. We don’t like to admit that we aren’t needed for events like sunrise to happen, so we instead fill our lives with those things that do require our attention. Think, however, of just what we know about other bodies in space. Ice crystals on Mars, methane oceans on some of the moons of the gas giants, active volcanoes in the outer reaches of the solar system, giant storms, flying ice balls, the interaction of matter, the obedience to the laws of physics (even if we don’t understand them all), and the orderliness of the cosmos is not dependent upon us and happens all the time without as much as a speck of interference from humanity.

It kind of puts things into perspective.

What I Think

I received an email from Senator Sam Brownback's office today, part of a mass mailing, I'm sure. In the email, he talks about the financial crisis, what he thinks, and why he voted "no" to the bail out. He also asked me what I thought. I thought I should reply, since he asked. What follows is my reply, word for word.
By email, you asked for my views on the economy. I agree that we are going into a recessionary time. I also agree that some kind if intervention is necessary, and that intervention will be costly.
My concern has long been that we are not looking at the long term; rather we are wanting immediate, short term fixes that will continue to promote greed and self-serving action.
This is nothing new. Our nation's history is filled with such times. However, one would think that someone somewhere would get a clue. One would think that someone somewhere would truly have the best interests of others at heart. One would think that someone somewhere would do the right thing.
I'm sick of the political games. I'm sick of the callousness. I'm sick of the gridlock. And right now, I'm sick of the Congress and those who go, bloody hands out, to the people for relief when they are the very ones who have, over the years, been trampling the people to death in search of ever-greater billions.
You wanted to know what I think. Thanks for letting me write.

Poetry and Memory

I think that I shall never see
A poem as lovely as a tree.

Blessings on thee, little man;
Barefoot boy with cheeks of tan.
With thy turned-up pantaloons,
And thy merry whistled tunes.

Under the spreading chestnut tree
The village smithy stands.
The smith, a mighty man is he
With strong and sinewy hands.

Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it,
And spills the upper boulders in the sun;
And makes gaps even two can pass abreast.

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
"'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door-
Only this, and nothing more."

The above are just about all that I can recall regarding poetry that I studied long ago in school. The poems are on the Internet, now, and I looked up a couple of them to become acquainted with them again.

I am not a poem-y person. I never took much to poetry, preferring to write prose. Some poetry I don’t understand (I also don’t understand works of art, for the most part). However, some of what Mr. Wells tried to teach us in 8^th grade, and what other teachers tried to instill into us in the late 1950’s and early 1960’s has stuck in the form of snippets of poetry such as what is above.

I am much more amazed at the working and capacity of the human brain to retain such snippets for years on end than I am of poetry itself. To think that these kinds of things have been stored somewhere in the recesses of an approximately 3.5 lb blob of tissue (which, by the way, is capable of performing 100 trillion calculations per second, according to Wiki) for fifty or so years is just remarkable in many ways.

Surely, you too know the above poems and the authors. Don’t you?

What Was That??

Just when you think the neighborhood is beginning to feel a little “sterile”, a neighbor kid a few houses over goes out on his patio on Saturday morning and begins practicing his…yep, his bagpipe.

When the Saints Go Marching In, Amazing Grace, and other tunes emanate from the contraption of tubes and pipes. Some sound rather good. Others need a little work. But more than that, it’s a reminder that neighborhoods aren’t just a collection of houses, yards, and cars. There are people who inhabit this place, and they are as individualistic and unique as can be.

The retired contractor, the physician resident, the helicopter pilot (for an air ambulance), the serviceman…all are living, breathing human beings, part of the ecosystem we call a neighborhood. People move in and people move out. There are garage sales from time to time, and I’m sure there are other, less innocent things going on that we can not readily see.

Kids play in the back yard pool down the block, and other kids ride their bikes and trikes in the streets. Busses pick up kids for school, and a few, I think, are home schooled. People work, play, go, come, eat, sleep, and dream. Some may worry. Some may have good reason to worry. Others may already be in that stage in life where they know that worry gets them nowhere, fast.

Our missions committee at church is thinking about an urban ministry of some sort. It got me to thinking how I would approach our neighborhood with a ministry of some sort. In all honesty, I haven’t a clue. Now, what was that He said about being salt, light, and leaven in the world?