From The EastWing with BobbyRay

From the East Wing, Paraprosdokian Figures, Google Sky, Wilbur Scoville, Squanto, Tonto, And Fish and Loafs

2010-11-21T16:37:00.000-08:00

Greeting to all and welcome new friends to the East Wing,

Calling yourself Catholic is no more making you Christian than standing in your garage for one hour each week makes you a car, seems to have touched a nerve for lots of folks.

Wow! Did I ever get comments on that thing. Some good, some bad, but lots of comments. Just like dancing, some folks can and some folks can’t and some folks wish they could dance. Oh well, just depends on ones point of view, the way ya see things I life.

Saying thing like that is a paraprosdokian figure of speech in which the back part of a sentence or phrase is so surprising or so unexpected in such a way that causes ya to go back and look at the front part again. Those things just kinda makes ya stop and rethink the whole deal from the start to the finish. And some times, sometimes they just make ya smile, or even laugh out loud, from, time to time.

Paraprosdokian figures are fun things to think up and even more fun to write. Things like, If I agreed with you then we’d both be stupid, or we don’t know what we don’t know and we don’t know that we don’t know it, you’re never too old to learn something dumb, I didn't say it was your fault; I said I was blaming you. I was looking back to see if your were looking back to see if I was looking back to see if you were looking back at me.

Alistair Cooke is credited with on of my personal favorites for paraprosdokian figures of speech when he, while speaking of the Duke of Windsor, said “he was at his best when the going was good”. Paraprosdokian figures of speech, fun things to play with. Words, ever gentle on your mind, gota love ‘em.

Did ya see the meteors Thursday night? Well if ya went out somewhere after ‘round 9:00 o’clock or so and looked toward the east, a little southeast, then you’d be bound to see ‘em if ya looked for any time a all. 30 to 50 meteors per hour was what I’s seeing when I’m standing out there in the cold, wondering why I’m out here standing in the cold. Now I’ve seen this same meteor light show every year and still go out and stand in the cold night of November like I’ve just been introduced to meteors. It’s a little magic show in the sky. They sometimes come and go so fast, ya wonder if ya really seen it or not, them sneaky little meteors. Then sometimes the meteor will go from horizon to horizon, now that's kinda cool. Ya don’t see too many of those kind, but when ya do, it’s kinda cool.

I just don’t stargaze like I used to when my brother in-law was alive. Ed and I enjoyed a rather unique style of stargazing. Ed was no longer able to look thru the eyepiece of the telescope, I was. The way it worked for Ed and me was I’d set up the telescope, and look at whatever I wanted to. When I found something interesting, I’d give Ed the coordinates by computer webcam and he’d either find my position in his star chart reference books or more likely, Google Sky.

Ya know ‘bout Google Earth, but don’t know ‘bout Google Sky. Well just like the Staples commercial, hit the “that’s easy” button, ‘cause Google Sky has been right there on you computer all the time, Ya were just having too much fun with Google Earth, finding your house, then the house of everybody you know.

Yep, Google Sky is right there on the top row, in the icons, ‘bout in the middle as I recall, just click and ya go from looking down on earth to looking up from earth. The Google Sky is lot easier to get lost than Google Earth, ‘cause after all, the distances in Google Sky are a lot farther than from the East Wing to Alabama. Google Sky is so good, sometimes when I’m too lazy to set up the telescope and go out in the cold, I just look at Google Sky.

Now ya gota remember that the images displayed in Google Sky came from a better vantage point than the East Wing in the dark. There’s a little telescope high in the sky taking all kinds of really neat pictures from space. Ya might have heard of it, It’s called the Hubble Space Telescope. That’s a different brand than the one I use outside on the north deck of the East Wing. I bet the controllers of the Hubble don’t have any more fun looking at the stars than I do, but they don’t have to go outside on crisp cold clear winter nights to see the best stuff like I do. I miss stargazing with Ed. Stargazing’s more fun with someone to share with.

Last Tuesday me and the she found ourselves in Michigan City IN when it was time for supper, went to Ryan’s and had a buffet which is a bad place to go for a diabetic for supper. Oh well, if ya watch what ye eat then ya can eat anywhere, and so I do. The one thing that stuck in my head was cornbread with Jalapeno Peppers inside.

Now I’m telling ya that’s not the hillbilly way, putting those Jalapeno Peppers in cornbread and all, but I was surprised that it worked well. I liked it. Can’t say the same for all the other stuff there, but the kicked up cornbread with a 5,000 unit Scoville rating, I’d eat again.

Did ya ever hear ‘bout Wilbur Scoville? Well don’t feel bad most people never did, I just happen to have had a chemistry professor one time in the past who just so happened to know a chemist by the name of Wilbur Scoville back in the day, and my professor delighted in sharing the fact that he knew someone that had made a name for himself so to speak and he was hot item in the scientific circles. And continues to be so to this day.

Now Wilbur Scoville was a chemist in the early 1900’s, as I remember the story, and working for Parke Davis, a pharmaceutical company when he developed a method of measuring the heat level in chili peppers. He ground up chilies with a sugar water solution and diluted the concentrations in measured steps till ya couldn’t taste the heat any more.

Testers sipped the stuff till they reached the point where it no longer burned their tongue. At that point a number was assigned to that chili based on the dilution factor. And just that easy the Scoville Organoleptic Test was born. A way to measure the heat of given chili peppers against all other chili peppers. Now that organoleptic word is just a quasi medical term that refers to qualities that affect our senses, taste, sight, smell, touch, that kinda stuff.

Like most pioneers in laboratory research, someone else comes along and improves upon the original work. And so it was with Wilbur Scoville, and the red hot chili peppers.

Machines now measure the heat of chili peppers, but even with the high tech of Liquid Chromatograph and pepper heat never touching tongue, the Scoville name remains as the acknowledged unit of measure for the heat of peppers. A researcher from the Texas Agricultural Experiment Station listed most all peppers from the mildest to the hottest. Those in the pepper business refer to the pepper heat as the pungency level.

Here’s the Scoville Units of pepper pungency, so pick a peck of pickled peppers.

0 -100 Scoville Units: Bell/Sweet pepper varieties
500 -1000 Scoville Units: Big Jim, Anaheim peppers
1,000 -1,500 Scoville Units: Ancho, Pasilla peppers
1,500 - 2,500 Scoville Units: Sandia, Cascabel, Rocotillo peppers
2,500 - 5,000 Scoville Units: Jalapeno & Mirasol peppers
5,000 - 15,000 Scoville Units: Yellow Wax, Serrano peppers
15,000 - 30,000 Scoville Units: de Arbol peppers
30,000 - 50,000 Scoville Units: Piquin, Cayenne & Tabasco peppers
50,000 - 100,000 Scoville Units: Chiltepin, Thai, Santaka peppers
100,000 - 300,000 Scoville Units: Scotch Bonnet & Habanero peppers.
575,000 Scoville Units: Red Savina Habanero peppers.
855,000 Scoville Units: Naga Jolokia peppers (Professional pepper. Do not try this at home) .
16,000,000 Scoville Units: Pure Capsaicin (Don’t even think about it.) This is the chemical that makes the fire. I think if ya just put pure capsaicin on your tongue, ya don’t have to die to go to hell, you’re there.

Ya just gota love that word “pungency”. Ya don’t find good descriptive words like pungency around too much anymore. I think President Obama’s Word Czar took most all those good descriptive words from the dictionary, but maybe the House Republicans will bring ‘em back. I think that was part of the deal.

With the end of year winter holidays fast approaching, Thanksgiving is on the radar this week. Thanksgiving, such an American Holiday, a day recognized by all as a special day to thank God for all that we’ve received in life. I'm sure there are some who may not agree, but it you’re reading this, then you’re on the right side of the dirt, and that’s something worth being thankful for, unless you’re a mole.

Being an almost exclusive American Holiday, Thanksgiving has its origin all the way back into the very earliest history of the people who suffered so much to get to this land, this thing we call home, this America, started. An Indian played a major role in the process of thanksgiving becoming a holiday. Yes an Indian, a fellow by the name of Squanto, taught the Pilgrims how to feed themselves in this new and hostile land.

Seems I recall that fish played a key part in Squanto’s success, but he didn’t invent the dish “Fish and Loafs”. That’d been used to feed large crowds in the past, way before Squanto’s time. I think that “Fish and Loafs” deal was the start of the first catering business. Oh by the way, Squanto is the great, great, great, great grandfather of Tonto.

Good thing Squanto was around, else the Lone Ranger would’ve been just another cowboy with a mask, and probably would’ve went to the dark side, I mean with the mask and all, what other line of work could he get into? And he’d even have to changes horses, ‘cause everybody knows that ya can’t go to the dark side while riding a white horse, that’s just not right.

I think I’ve already invited each and every one of you to join me for Thanksgiving Dinner at Grand Central Station in North Judson IN. We’ll start at 12 noon and eat till everyone’s full or the food’s all gone, whichever comes first. I bet we get full first, ‘cause for backup there’s always Fish and Loafs.

Stay safe in Afghanistan.

From the East Wing, Paraprosdokian Figures, Google Sky, Wilbur Scoville, Squanto, Tonto, And Fish and Loafs

I wish you well,
BobbyRay

From the East Wing, With Spike Doing Well, Sophia Moon Walking, Email Scams, Father Mark From the Mountains

2010-11-14T17:40:00.001-08:00

Greeting to all and welcome new friends to the East Wing.

Thank you one and all for your concern for the Birthday Kitten, The Man Cat, Spike. Spike is doing well and is currently holding court in the East Wing. Now having joined the inside pets completing his special elective surgery, he’s truly one of the gang. They still look at his rear end hair cut and laugh, but oh well, things are like that in the East Wing. We some have hair and some don’t

While Spike has settled into his new role as house cat, Sophia on the other hand is yet to come down from the clouds of euphoria. Wow! Talk ‘bout a cat high, ya wouldn’t believe a cat could get so high till ya see Sophia walk on air. Remember Michael Jackson’s Moon Walk? She can. I’m telling ya, Sophia can Moon Walk with the best of ‘em. On her back legs, standing tall, Moon Walking Cat. And I thought she looked good doing the back flips, till I saw the Moon Walking.

Sophia says she’s glad the President is out of the country. 'Cause every time he leaves the country his approval rating goes up. She thinks it’s ‘cause people want him to get as far away as possible. Damn Republican Cat.

Was last week’s weather great or what? How many thought for sure that’s Indiana Summer? Wrong! Indian Summer don’t start till St. Martin’s Day. November 11, is considered the beginning of Indian summer, a period of warm weather following a cold spell or hard frost.

An old saying is “If All Saints’ (November 1) brings out winter, St. Martin’s brings out Indian summer.” Indian summer can occur between St. Martin’s Day and November 20. And if ya remember, last Thursday sure felt like summer, being 70° and all. But for the rest of the Indian Summer, it kinda cooled down, down toward winter, but that’s ok too, ‘cause winter’s kinda cool. At least two summer like days fall within the St. Martin to November 20th time frame this year. Some times it just don’t happen at all, so were blessed this year with a short Indian Summer. Sometimes it’s quality not quantity that counts.

Seems I remember hearing somewhere the origin of the term, Indian Summer, some say that it comes from the early Native Americans, who believed that the condition was caused by a warm wind sent from the court of their southwestern God, Cautantowwit. I wonder what those old Indians were smoking when they thought that one up. Pot’s old, and been ‘round a long time ya know.

Some times I think my email is like a pop quiz, ya never know what’s coming next. A fellow asked if I knew the name of the full moon of November. HELLO ! I’m a stargazer, have been so forever. Not really forever, but for a long time. Did ya ever wonder ‘bout things like how long is forever. I think it’s as long as it needs to be and then it’s some more.

Talking ‘bout forever, I had some people want to talk a while back ‘bout the “end of time”, did I think it was near, did I think it was far. I told ‘em right up, “if ya die today, then your end of time is near. I hope mine’s far”.

The answer is yes, I know. The Full Beaver Moon of November. I should’ve answered back and said do ya know why it’s called the Beaver Moon. I didn’t, but almost did. That would’ve been the wrong thing to say to a person who may not know. But I almost did. Smarty pants from guy Montana, trying to get me to sin by talking mean to a person I don’t even know, but I almost did.

Oh, and that Full Beaver Moon, well they called it that ‘cause that’s the time of the year to make sure ya set all the beaver traps before the creeks and rivers and everything freeze. That way you’re assured a goodly supply of warm Beaver Furs for the winter. And we all know how important that is today.

We don’t do much beaver trapping from the East Wing. I just rely on the hunting skills of the 2girldogs to keep me supplied with warm animal furs for the winter. It turns out that my warm furs pretty much amount to Pup Baby laying at the foot of my bed while I sleep. Oh well, at least it’s warm fur for the winter. Along with Sophia and Spike, I sometimes have more warm furs than I need, even in the winter.

Sometimes think the worst thing I could have ever done in my lifetime is to register with National Diabetic Association after being diagnosed with diabetes back in the spring. I now get lots of email related to diabetes. Today I received the ultimate email on diabetes.

It was from a law firm, that email letter on diabetes, they didn’t identify their location. Them folks wanted to know if I had ever taken ad drug called AVANDIA. I have not. They told me ‘bout lots of people having taken Avandia for their diabetes and having such bad things happen to them medically. They even went on and on ‘bout the Federal Government investigating the makers of Avandia.

Told me there was going to be a large sum of money set aside for people who’d taken this drug and had experienced a bad medical outcome, those email lawyers. All I had to do was just fill in the blank spaces on the form and I’m going to get some money, lots of money. Now the fact I never took Avandia didn’t seem to matter at all, just fill in the blanks and wait for the money.

Sounded like a democrat scheme to me so I decided to get Sophia’s input. Now for you that may not know the inter working of the East Wing, Sophia spends most all her time lying on the back of my chair when I'm in the East Wing. And for those who don’t know ‘bout the East Wing at all, it’s a 24x20 room built onto the original east end of my house. Three sides are all glass walls, floor to ceiling, the 4th side is the original outside of the house, with just enough walls to support the roof. The East Wing, where me and the 2girldogs, Sophia, Spike and the She call home. Although the She don’t stay in the East Wing as much as the rest of us do.

Sophia stays on the back of my chair for a simple reason. That way she can read the screen as I type, also so she can whisper into my ear, only on problem, Sophia don’t do whisper. Sophia knows I’m deaf without my hearing aids, so with her laying on the back of the chair, she can yell into my right ear with ease. And believe me she does, both loud and often.

When asked ‘bout the Avandia, Sophia said “there’s a sucker born every minute, you grape or orange?” Very few people like smart ass cats. But ya gota love the Calico Cat when she smiles. The Moon Walking part, well that’s just like gravy on biscuits, it’s just been made extra special.

Remember this time ‘bout a year ago or so, I was talking ‘bout a Catholic Priest from Kentucky coming to my church in North Judson. Well guess what, today we had another Catholic Priest from Kentucky come to my church in North Judson.

Father Mark Dreves from the Diocese of Lexington. Now when most folks think ‘bout Lexington, they tend to think one of three things, Blue Grass, Race Horses, or the University of Kentucky Wildcats. The Catholic Church’s not widely associated with the State of Kentucky, yet the Catholic Church puts forth extensive efforts in Southeastern Kentucky, both spiritual and charitable. Most all of this work goes unnoticed by the rest of the world, noticed only by those who’s lives are touched by the efforts. That alone is the reward for the effort.

Father Mark currently serves in the capacity of Vicar General in the Diocese of Lexington. Now for you non Catholic folks, the Vicar General is kinda like the Vice President, in the sense he’s the number two guy in charge. That’s where the similarity ends. The main job of the Vice President is to wait around for the President to die so he can be President.

Not the case with the Vicar General, this is the go to position that makes any diocese work, and Father Mark appears, from my too short a visit with him, to be just the right man for the job. He probably don’t think so, but I’ll bet ya his Bishop does.

Talk ‘bout Devine Intervention, last Saturday I had a certain amount of work that just had to be completed in my office. A deadline I had established two weeks prior. I was aware the Father Mark was on his way to my office and my concern was I’d have to ask him to cool his heels while I finished my work for the day. It was with that thought in my mind that I continued to process the stuff that had to be done.

The work got finished, checked and rechecked for detail, it was acceptable, I pushed the button to both save and print. It was as the very last page of a long document exited the printer that Father Mark knocked on my office door. Some times things work out so good ya just say “Thank you Jesus” and go on ‘bout you life.

At mass this weekend in both North Judson and San Pierre, Father Mark brought the message of the need for assistance in Southeastern Kentucky. The difficulty of life in the mountains, the struggle to maintain a family relationship, the frustration of chronic unemployment. Lack of money, lack of clothing, lack of food, lack of education, and in many instances lack of hope. Life is hard in the mountains for many people who call those mountains home.

Kind and gentle people, both saints and sinners mixed together right there in the mountains, much the same mix as any other place in the world. There’s always charitable need throughout the world. It’s something ya can’t dwell upon forever or you’ll become so depressed you’ll join the hopeless.

But ya just do your part, and the Family of Howard’s part to assist the Diocese of Lexington in their charitable efforts in Appalachia is to provide clothing. We don’t know how much or how it’ll get delivered. But it will. Those are details which will fill in as we go forward with the program.

It’s one thing to hear of a human need, kick in ten bucks and forget about it. It’s another thing to hear of a need close to home and decide to try to do something about it. It’s kinda like calling ourselves Catholic and not responding, why would we not respond? Pray that our efforts to provide clothing for those in need in Magoffin and Floyd County Kentucky will be successful, better yet join me in the effort.

Now ‘bout that calling ourselves Catholic statement, think about it. Calling ourselves Catholic no more makes us Christian than standing in our garage one hour a week makes us a car. Did ya ever wonder ‘bout the number of cars at mass?

And they’ll know we are Christian by our deeds.

Stay safe in Afghanistan

From the East Wing, With Spike Doing Well, Sophia Moon Walking, Email Scams, Father Mark From the Mountains

I wish you well,
BobbyRay

From the East Wing, A Happy Cat, Part of History, November Holidays, Oklahoma Heroes, Spike & The Knife

2010-11-07T15:01:00.000-08:00

Greeting to all and welcome new friends to the East Wing.

Now I’m not saying the Sophia’s happy, but did ya ever see a cat do a back flip? Twice? From Sophia’s point of view, things went just swell that election night, November 2nd 2010. Now that’s not the case for everyone involved, such is life, win some, lose some, life goes on. Right now Sophia’s so happy with the outcome of the election she’s not even bad mouthing the President. Although Sophia said she thinks everybody in the whole world got the message except Obama and Pelosi. But you know how those Republican Calico Cats can stretch the truth. I think he got the message. We’ll see about Pelosi, she’s from California ya know, it sometimes takes longer for the word to get that far.

It’s kinda interesting to note that just 24 months ago it seems the whole country just couldn’t get enough of then President Elect Obama and now we seem to have collectively said Uh Oh! Guess that just goes to show ya, a majority is not necessarily always right. Collectively we make mistakes and collectively we correct such mistakes. Some have been corrected, and some still remain.

It's amazing that the largest shift of one political party to the other since the 1940’s has occurred with our participation. Now that’s assuming ya voted. If ya didn’t --- shame on you. But one thing ya gota keep in mind, if ya don’t vote, ya can’t complain. And that’s why I always vote, just in case I need to complain. I voted.

One of the things which seem to be lost in the national media is the extent of the political swing to the concretive point of view. On a national basis this is the largest shift of political position in the history of this nation. At the state level, the change in political position is historic, at the local level, across the nation, the same political change in position tends to reflect the national view.

Never in the history of politics have so many changed so fast because of so few. But what’s so both amazing and gratifying ‘bout the American Electorate is the success of those most demonized of all, the Tea Party.

And to paraphrase “Larry The Cable Guy” when talking ‘bout the Tea Party. “They Got ‘er Done”. And so they did. The American political landscape has been changed forever. Like it or not, it just has, and a new national thought process has come to the forefront. They got ‘er done. Sophia the Republican Cat is all smiles, and I’m glad, ‘cause ya don’t have to live with a mad cat. I do.

Is summer turning to winter while going through fall a neat time of the year or what? Gotta love November. Such major holidays that few participate in, such as November 4th, Will Rogers Day. Now I have some friends who live in Oklahoma, and I’m telling ya, Will Rogers Day is a big deal in Oklahoma. ‘Course if ya ever been to Oklahoma then ya’d know why Will Rogers Day is a big deal in Oklahoma. Will Rogers once said “I don't make jokes. I just watch the government and report the facts.” Wow, would he have a lot of “facts” to report now days. Will Rogers (1879–1935)

One thing ya can say ‘bout Oklahoma is, its north of Texas, and everybody knows ya don’t mess with Texas. But the really best thing I can say ‘bout Oklahoma is I’ve met Buddy Evans. For those of you who may not know Buddy Evans, well set back and enjoy the Buddy Evans story.

Buddy came into my life unexpected and uninvited and I’m so glad he did. Without fanfare or Gloria last Friday late afternoon, I found myself engaged in conversation with a fellow named Buddy Evans, He’s from Oklahoma, and he’s from Oklahoma, came to Indiana for a wedding to be held at Grand Central Station the next day. Well Buddy turns out to be one of the most interesting people I’ve ever met in a long, a long time.

Buddy graduated from high school in 1950’s and can’t wait to go see the world, but seeing the world in Oklahoma turns out to be a lineman for the county. Looking for a way to escape Oklahoma, Buddy turns to the military recruitment. The army tells him, “we can take you in six weeks”, the air force tells him “ we can take you in three weeks”, the navy tell him “we can take you in two weeks” the marines tell Buddy “we got a bus leaving Tulsa tomorrow” Buddy was on the bus. He spent six years in the Marines. Buddy got his wish to see the world.

Buddy was in southeast Asia, Vietnam, at a time when it was not the politically correct thing to do. He spent 30 days in the jungle, in the river, alone, just Buddy and God, he survived, ‘cause God wanted him to. Jungle food is somewhat limited to things that move, both in the day light and the darkness. Buddy ate ‘em both.

And then the sky angles, the Hueys, those Helicopters sent by God, plucked Buddy out of the midst of the Vietcong and delivered him into the arms of freedom. Buddy came home to a hostile American Public. He was spat upon and laughed at, ridiculed and assaulted as he blended into civilian life.

A hero walked among ‘em and they knew him not. Buddy had paid the price for their freedom and they never even knew. The real important thing ‘bout Oklahoma is not Will Rogers Day, it’s the Buddy Evans’s of Oklahoma. For those that never said it when it should have been said “Welcome home Buddy Evans, and thank you.” And that comes from BobbyRay.

Another big November Holiday is November 6th its Sadie Hawkins Day. Now not everybody remembers Sadie Hawkins Day ‘cause it was invented by a cartoon artist, fellow by the name of Al Capp, creator of the Li'l Abner comic strip. On this day, unmarried ladies could pursue (literally) their men; if caught, marriage was unavoidable. The idea took off in real-life. In 1938, the first ever "girls-ask-boys" Sadie Hawkins Dance was held. Sadie Hawkins Dances were still popular into the 1960’s. I think girls ask boys for more stuff than just dancing now days.

November 7th , not a holiday but important date for sure. Daylight Saving Time Ends at 2:00 A.M. Now if you’re reading this Monday Morning after showing up for church yesterday an hour early, oh well, don’t fret. Come spring time, ya can forget again and show up for church an hour late and everything will be back in balance in your world.

Seems that Ben Franklin first thought up the idea of Daylight Savings Time back in the 1780’s. Was first put into wide use in World War I and again in World War II. Ben Franklin was a kinda neat guy, flying kites and making stoves and all. Done a couple other things too, like opened a post office and proposed a system of public education. To this day some people think both those ideas failed.

They didn’t. Where else can ya send a letter across the whole country, misspell every word and it still costs less than a cup of coffee. I think Ben got his picture on some money too, but I seldom see those kinda dollar bills.

Of course the best for the last of November Holidays is always Thanksgiving, always the last Thursday of November. A special day, for a special nation, set aside to allow us, one and all, to reflect on these gifts we have received from his bounty.

Come Thanksgiving Day, the Family of Howard, will once again offer a Thanksgiving Dinner to all those near and far who choose to join us for the meal. It’s something we started six years ago. Our first year we had 64 guests, and many thought there was some kinda catch to it. There was not. The Thanksgiving Meal has grown in size every year. This year we will cook for 500. Welcome one and all to join the Howards for Thanksgiving at 301 Lane Street in North Judson IN. We even offer free rides and carry outs. Come join us, you’ll be happy.

Last Wednesday Purdue University put up a website called ''Impact: Earth!'' it’s a site that allows ya to calculate the potential damage a comet or asteroid would cause if it hit the Earth. It’s totally programmable. It’s a fun thing to play with. I programmed it to calculate the damage of a direct hit to the East Wing with an asteroid the size of a canned ham traveling at 1,200 miles per hour. When I pushed the button to calculate the damage, I thought I was reading a Soprano’s script, it simply said “Forget About It!” It’s worth the trip at http://www.purdue.edu/impactearth

I think I told ya ‘bout my cat Spike, a boy cat, Spike. A birthday present last May. A gray striped tiger cat, a walking birthday present with white boots. Like all Gods creatures, Spike grew up. He’s no longer the little birthday kitten, he not the little boy cat. He’s Spike the Man Cat, the Spikester in white boots.

Now there comes a time in the life of all Gods creatures, great and small, that a person makes a decision which will have a profound effect on their future. The decision may be as glorious as to pamper the animal for the rest of its life. A new family pet. Provide food for the birds of winter. To end the suffering, to end the life.

And so such a time had come for the Birthday Kitten who turned into the Man Cat, Spike. A decision was made which would have a profound, detrimental impact on the night life of the Man Cat. The date was set, the time agreed upon. The instructions were given me to not feed the Spike after 6:00 PM Friday. The only remaining unknown was how to convince the gray tiger in white boots to go along with the program.

Daylight Saturday Morning revealed the first snow of the season on the window of Mr. Lincoln and temperatures below freezing and a man cat that wanted only to sleep in for the morning. It took some doing, but I convinced Spike we were going shopping at Pet Mart for Sophia’s birthday present. Spike jumped into the cat carrier with glee. In the car Spike asked why I hadn’t fed him breakfast. Told me we would eat out later.

Our destination was Michigan City, a full hours drive from the East Wing. A scant 5 miles from home and Spike is complaining ‘bout his accommodations, too small, nothing to play with, no water, no food, and the list went on an on. Now Spike’s a good fellow but with all this complaining I started to think he’s sounding like Joe Biden jumping on the Tea Party. And we all know that didn’t work either.

Checking Spike into the system was straight forward and easy. They paw printed Spike right up, had me sign my approval for the procedure, and the Birthday Kitten, the Man Cat in white boots, the Spikester, was about to become number 12.

A lady dressed in green scrubs, a net over her hair, wearing glasses and carrying a roll of 1” cream color paper tape, that thin kind ya use when ya want to mask off something for painting. The kind that if ya don’t tear it just right, it splits and then ya have a terrible time getting the end from half way around the roll, that kind of tape. She tore off ‘bout 1” and pasted it to Spikes head, right between his ears. She was pretty good at tearing the tape, I think she’s had lots of practice. That didn’t look like a new roll she was using.

She had a magic marker, a Sharpie, she wrote the number 12 on Spikes little piece of paper tape, right there between his ears. She asked me if I wanted her to write the same number on the back of my hand so we could cross reference my cat when I came back to pick him up. I declined, told her I thought I could recognize Spike even without his number 12 and even after having work done his plumbing. I rubbed Spikes head just past that little paper square with his number 12 and held his paw and told him I’d be back later in the day to take him home. Spike acted leery of the whole deal.

It’s hard to read the green eyes of a birthday kitten, a Man Cat in white boots. Spike meowed as I turned and walked out the door. I don’t know if cats cry, but it sure sounded like Spike was trying to.

They told me I could pick up Spike at 7:00 – 7:30 PM. I arrived at 6:30, just in case. It was 5 minutes after 7 when the doors opened to release the cats of the day. I was in the front of the line. I grabbed the cat with the number 12 on his head and sure enough it looked just like the same fellow I brought up that morning. Don’t know who was most glad to see whom, but Spike sure had a lot to say on the way home.

South bound through Michigan City Indiana at night is a big deal for a country cat. Spike loved the twinkling of the lights. The Pet Mart Sign was lit. By the time we were five miles from town, Spike was out of cat carrier and lying on my shoulders. He whispered in my ear “we didn’t get Sophia’s birthday president” and after he bit my ear lobe, said “that wasn’t Pet Mart you took me to either.” We drove on into the night, me and Spike, going home. They all wanted to see his stitches when we got home, but he didn’t get any, they all liked his partial hair cut, but Spike can only see his hair cut from upside down.

All is well with Spike, the 2girldogs, Sophia, Bentley and the she, as this first Sunday of November comes to the end of the day with the approaching darkness showing up an hour earlier this day than the day before. Daylight Saving Time has gone away.

It’s the middle of Fall and most leaves have. Autumn will soon be gone and winter will bring the special beauty of what only winter can show us. We’ll then complain ‘bout too cold, too much snow, too dark, can’t wait for better weather, and a whole bunch other winter stuff we complain ‘bout every year. But ya gota remember what I said earlier, “if ya don’t vote, ya can’t complain”. Now ya know the rest of reason voting.

Stay Safe in Afghanistan

From the East Wing, A Happy Cat, Part of History, November Holidays, Oklahoma Heroes, Spike & The Knife
I Wish You Well,
BobbyRay

From the East Wing Trick or Treating with the Toto Volunteers back in the day, The Cat & The Costume

2010-10-31T16:15:00.000-07:00

Greetings to all and welcome new visitors to the East Wing.

Gingerbread, now that’s something special if there ever was something special. As a kid we didn’t get a lot of sweets. Gingerbread was special, rare but sooo special. Warm Gingerbread with apple butter and cold sweet milk. It don’t get any better than that. I don’t care who ya are, if ya don’t like Gingerbread, apple butter and sweet milk, ya just weren’t brought up right, or you aren’t a hillbilly.

Last weeks email brought a request from an old friend and one of the original members of the Toto Volunteers, asking if I still had a copy of last year’s Halloween Story from the East Wing. I did. And as such, please rewind Halloween 2009. It was a fun story to tell, and today I found it fun to reread.

The biggest holiday, hands down, in Downtown Toto when I was a kid was Halloween. Now ya had the other important stuff like Easter, 4th of July, Christmas, Thanksgiving, Memorial Day, Jefferson Davis’s Birthday (some habits were hard to turn loose) but none of those holidays could compare with Halloween. It was a holiday built just for hillbilly boys in their middle tens and elevens.

It was the time that tried boys souls, a time to test the courage, to face the fears of the nighttime knowing things were out there and not knowing what or where. A time to see if the testosterone had started working yet. A time to be both horror-struck and happy all in the same heartbeat. A time to scare little sisters. A time to say boo, and mean it. A time to step into the shadow of the valley. A time to march, to prowl the darkness in the company of your band of brothers, we were the Toto Volunteers. We still are.

The Halloween Bounty seemed unlimited, so much so that we, the Toto Volunteers, never made any attempt to control its access. We could have, we chose not to. Toto could have become the model Trick or Treat Community for the National Standard of Trick or Treat, had we choose to make it so. We could have, we chose not to.

The reason for such actions on the part of the Volunteers is as valid today as when the War Council deliberated on that very issue. There was a fraction within the ranks who wanted to do to Halloween what we had been so successful in our summer campaign. Just the summer past, we had collected more pop bottles then most of the army thought existed in the world. We’d won the Pop Bottle Wars of Toto.

The issue of the Halloween Candy was brought to the War Council not by inexperienced people with no knowledge of war, but from people seasoned by fire on the front lines of the Pop Bottle Wars. People who were even as old as 11 and one even held the rank of sergeant.

Now in the Toto Volunteers we had a little different ranking system than the regular army. Ours was more simple. I got to be the General, there were two sergeants, and everybody else got to be a privates. That way we didn’t have to spend a lot of time trying to figure out who was in charge. Besides, we didn’t have different uniforms so it was a lot easier to just remember a few to salute, otherwise everybody would be saluting each other all day long for nothing.

The Halloween Options as they would become know to the Volunteers were quite simple, two different options. The first option being the Toto Volunteers go Trick or Treating the night before the real Halloween and then go again the next night, that way everybody gets twice as much stuff. The second option would be for the Volunteers to just charge everybody Trick or Treating in Toto, and not a member of the Volunteers, a nickel. It was just two weeks till Halloween and the council wanted to make a decision right there, but I told ‘em the decision was too important, it’d have to wait for a while. I had to think this one out.

One of the things I learned by being the General of the Toto Volunteers was when I didn’t know what to do, I could always ask my dad. I’d act like I was just a little kid asking a dumb question, not like the general seeking consultation on an issue of possible war. When I talked to my dad about such important matters we usually done our man to boy talks on the porch swing, even in late October man to boy talks worked better in the swing on Sunday Evenings just ‘bout dark.

As we sat swinging I said “Did ya ever go trick or treating?” My dad said “Yep” “Did ya ever go trick or treating the day before Halloween?” My dad said “Nope” I said “why not?” My dad said “Did ya ever have a birthday party a day before your birthday? Could ya have the 4th of July Picnic the day before? What would happen to Christmas if ya didn’t have the 25th of December, not the 24th but the 25th?” I was starting to see my dad’s point of view on this issue of trick or treating one day early as we swung together on the front porch in the crisp autumn air just nine days before Halloween.

I said “Ya think a person could make somebody pay to go trick or treating” My dad said “Not in Toto, cause everybody that tricks or treats in Toto don’t have any money to start with, and besides who would be dumb enough to even try to get somebody to pay to go trick or treating?” I didn’t say nothing. One of the good things about talking with my dad in that swing was he didn’t make me say anything if I didn’t want to, and right then I didn’t want to.

So there is was. Ya can’t go the night before ‘cause that’s dumb, and nobody’s got any money and if ya even ask someone to pay that’s dumb too. My dad imparted a great deal of wisdom from the confines of that swing on the front porch in Downtown Toto. He made my job of generaling a lot easier on more than one occasion.

Well, I had my answers now I only had to deal with the Toto Volunteers. I spent most of that night trying to figure out a way to get the War Council on my side. I knew what I had to do but wanted the them to tell me, not me tell them. Somewhere in the darkness, about the time today turned into tomorrow and became yesterday I finally figured a way to present my views to the Council. The next day I called an after school meeting of the War Council of the Toto Volunteers. We met on my front porch.

Now one of the downside products of victory on the battle field is the overwhelming desire to repeat the same feat over and over again. I was not about to let that happen to the Toto Volunteers. As soon as everybody was present I presented my plan. The plan was simple. I couldn’t choose which one I liked best so we would do ‘em both.

But for the trick or treat the night before Halloween we’d all have to have get our moms to sign a letter saying we could go out after dark just in case someone wanted to know why we were there at their house a night early for trick or treat, so we could tell ‘em our moms said we could come trick or treating early. Also everyone had to ask their mom if she thought it would be ok to charge people for trick or treating in Toto.

I had printed out a letter to give every volunteer. Because I ran the mimeograph machine at California Township School I ran off 14 copies of the letter. I had printed it on a stencil and it looked really professional, and most every word was spelled ok. As the volunteers read the letter, ya could still smell the mimeograph ink, it was that blue kind and it had its own smell, ya couldn’t describe it, ya could just smell it. I could tell by their looks that they were gona have a hard time getting their mom to sign that letter. I knew I sure wouldn’t ask my mom to sign the letter.

One kid said “my mom’ll kill me if she sees this letter, I’m not gona take it home”. He brought his letter back and reached it to me saying “let’s just go regular trick or treating”. Some of the others thought we could still do both options. My faith was in the letter.

The next morning at the bus stop not a single volunteer who took the letter home wanted to talk about it. One kid said “I might not even want to go trick or treating this year, I don’t know if I do or not. I’ll just have to wait till Halloween an see”. The plan was working. Two days later the War Council of the Toto Volunteers made a decision to do regular trick or treating in Toto and to make sure nobody would ever do anything except regular trick or treating in Toto forever in the future.

We, the Toto Volunteers, took a solemn oath to forever protect the unbridled right to trick or treat in Toto Indiana on Halloween without interference from anybody forever and ever. That right to trick or treat in Toto has been protected to this day.

And then came the politicians, regulating trick or treat hours. I think it was a republican thing first, probably too damn tight to buy candy for little kids. Then the democrats jumped on the band wagon, probably with a bribe of some sort from the republicans. A pox on both their houses, to even think ya can regulate Halloween.

Next thing ya gona hear is some smart ass in Washington will propose to make Halloween a federal holiday and place on the last Monday in October, in order to bring it in line with the other fake Monday Federal Holidays. It wouldn’t surprise me if Obama tries to move Easter to the day after. Easter Monday doesn’t have a good sound to it, but one less work day for the democrats.

Now towns announce the time to go trick or treating. Trick or treating at 3:00PM is like kissing your sister at high noon in a public park, it’s just not that much fun. The question that comes to mind is what ya gona do if some little monster tricks or treats before or after the set deadlines?

Now if ya shoot ‘em all ya get the guilty. I think we need a Halloween Czar. Hey Sophia!!! OH MY GOD ! Sophia’s dressed up like a democrat!

Now the fall season kicks in to high gear on this last Sunday of October, 2010, it’s Halloween. We have all enjoyed you company as usual. As the shades of nighttime are closing around us, goblins, large and small, are marching into the East Wing demanding stuff like Candy Corn, Milk Duds in those little yellow boxes, Pop Corn Balls rolled up in Saran Wrap, Jelly Beans and Milky Ways, not the regular ones, the little kind, ‘bout half the size of your index finger. Halloween, gota love it. Dressed up like a democrat!!!

Stay safe in Afghanistan

From the East Wing Trick or Treating with the Toto Volunteers back in the day, The Cat & The Costume
I wish you well,
BobbyRay

From the East Wing, With Sophia On the Campaign Trail, The Waffle House From Hell, Flowers & Full Moons, A Cowboy’s Prayer

2010-10-24T17:20:00.000-07:00

Greeting to all and welcome to all new visitors to the East Wing.

Seems like I can say pretty much whatever I want to say, just as long as everybody’s informed ‘bout Sophia The Republican Cat. A couple weeks go by and I go to Roswell and tell the story. I get some emails telling me nice things ‘bout my writing style. A friend of mind said “ I felt I was riding with ya as the road fell away and you drove down into Magoffin County”.

I get lots more emails asking ‘bout Sophia, wanting to know is she ok, is she ill, have the 2girldogs chased her away, has she died, did she run away, am I ever going to talk ‘bout Sophia again and if so when.

So now for all you Sophia Fans near and far I’m please to say the cat’s well and continues to hold court in the East Wing. She’s been most busy with the midterm elections and I don’t see her nearly as much as before Labor Day. We all know the real campaigning starts after Labor Day. Even though the political types want to campaign all year long, every year, every day.

In typical Sophia fashion, and with her persistence of goal, the cat’s now become the official Spokes Cat for the National Tea Party Movement. Sophia considers this to be her most cherished honor. She travels far and wide speaking in support of the Tea Party Agenda, all the while translating into nine different dialects of catenese. Did ya ever notice how seems everything cats do tends to be in units of nine, like languages spoken, lives and stuff like that. Even cat food, 9 Lives.

Sophia’s made both friends and foes along the way. She’s endured the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat. And ya know what, as this election draws near the cat’s digging in and seems ready to make a final push to ensure her point of view prevails.

I expect that by next week she’ll have a whole lot to say just before we all vote on our collective future. I just know Sophia’s in full campaign mode when I check in on her after she’s fallen asleep at night and she’s snuggled up to her autographed photograph of Herbert Hoover. It’s easy to see Sophia’s confidence building every day, as she continues to do her part for her party. As all indicators point toward an overwhelming republican victory on November 2nd , Sophia now struts around the East Wing like the queen she really is. I’m telling ya, the cat struts like one of the wrestlers from the old WWF. Damn Republican Cat.

Awhile back I said I don’t do Waffles and for sure don’t stop at the Waffle House. Well it seems a Waffle House Owner wanted to know why. And I’m so glad I’ve been asked the question, ‘cause that’s a story I’ve been wanting to tell for a while.

Now if ya own stock in Waffle House, or ya own one of those businesses, I’m sorry, but here’s just the way it happened along the way when February had arrived right on time at midnight but had yet to see the first light of a new February morning.

Johnny and I had driven all night to get to Georgia, and somewhere in the darkness, well past midnight I started to get hungry and didn’t want to take the time to stop. We needed to be in Georgia as soon as possible, me and Johnny, we just needed to be there as soon as possible. As the miles rolled by so did the signs along the way promoting the virtues of a business called “The Waffle House” After many hours of travel and no food, the Waffle House started looking so much better. But the real deciding factor, Johnny too started thinking the Waffle House..

It was cold that first morning of February when daylight had not yet come to Resaca GA as we, Johnny and I, walked into the Waffle House from Hell. Looking back, several things should’ve told us to get back in the car and go away, but we didn’t.

The empty pickup trucks with motors running and gun racks loaded should have told us to go away, but we didn’t ‘cause those damn signs alone I-75 had lulled us into believing culinary treats beyond our wildest dreams were ‘bout to be bestowed upon us. And we were ready to be bestowed upon, so we crossed the threshold.

It was a little surprising that so many people were in a Waffle House so early in the morning before daylight, but it’s Georgia, maybe the locals get up real early and go out for waffles. What was even more surprising was the fact that Bubba & Earl didn’t have on any shirts, just bibbed overalls and shoes with no socks. Just setting there, drinking coffee and looking at us. Earl had a toothpick in the right corner of his mouth and Bubba did too. They didn’t even take the toothpick out to drink coffee.

As we entered to door all eyes turned to greet us, no, not to greet, to inspect us. Being on public display so early in the morning inside a Waffle House in north Georgia after driving eleven hours in the darkness of night goes a long ways toward building one’s self esteem and confidence in your ability to face the other challenges the day will bring. We were ready for the challenges, it’d been a long night.

As we walked the full length of that Waffle House all heads turned and eyes followed as we seated ourselves on the last two empty seats at the counter bar. She came over and said “yallwantcoffee” I said yes, she said “regularerhouse” I said house, she said “wantaspoon” I said “do I need one’ she said “suredo”.

When the coffee arrived I discovered the purpose of the spoon, the house blend is consumed only when it’s strong enough to hold the spoon in an upright position . It was the first time I’d ever had lumpy coffee, it took some getting used to, but the spoon stood up nice. Placing the food order seemed to go well. Two eggs over easy with bacon and toast for me along with a glass of milk, and waffles for Johnny didn’t seem too complicated for a business that specializes in breakfast food.

The real surprise was what was brought to the counter. The eggs were not over easy, they were not well done, they were not scrambled, they were roasted, roasted to the max. The bacon was not medium, not medium well, not well done, it was not crisp, the bacon was black. The bacon was carbon on a plate. The coffee and the bacon were of the same color. The toast seemed unusually light, but then again I’m comparing it to the bacon.

The milk was the right color, however, with my first taste I was shocked by the realization that this milk was very close to the temperature as when the original manufacturer produced it. I dared not let my imagination wander down those lanes, knowing full well this glass in my hand could be a whole new meaning to the term “Fresh Diary”.

When the server came over and asked “howseverythinggonigfya” I commented ‘bout the light color of the toast, she took one look and said Ithinkheforgorettotoastthebread,I’lltakeitbackandmakeemtoastit” I said the toast was ok, but the eggs were not right, she said “themsernotovereasyarethey? I said they were the same color as the bacon she said “yourright,yessirrie,they’rethesamecolorforsure,youlikeemthatwayornot? I said not, as I started to eat my breakfast form hell, too hungry to complain any further. I never saw an egg bend before.

Johnny’s order was less complex and as such much less chance to get it wrong. It’s hard to mess up a waffle order unless ya cook it too long. Johnny’s waffle was cooked too long. I think they must’ve cooked Johnny’s waffle and my bacon the same amount of time, maybe in the same device. Don’t know if my bacon had little squares on it or not, it’s hard to see black on black. Under normal circumstances ya’d expect to be able to eat a waffle with only a fork. Johnny’s waffle was served with a fork, butter, syrup, a steak knife. This was not normal circumstances, Johnny needed the steak knife. When we went to the cashier to pay our bill, a most pleasant surprise, she said

“Idon’tthinkweservedyouboysgood. I'mgonatake25%offyourbillrightnow”. And she did. The background music was dueling banjos as we walked into the dark cold early morning, that first day of February, 2010. As we walked to the car, I’ll swear I though I saw a cow tied to a utility pole behind that Waffle House.

When Johnny drove back onto the interstate, he wondered what kind of discount we would’ve received if we’d complained ‘bout our food. We still laugh ‘bout the waffle house from hell, Johnny and me. The more I think ‘bout it, I’m almost sure the cow was tied up to that utility pole, back there behind the Waffle House.

Ever hear of the “Bride of the Sun”? Why it’s none other than the Marigold. It’s October’s flower. Those yellow, rust, and gold colors of the marigold just seem to yell OCTOBER ! loud and clear to me.

I like marigolds, I think they’re pretty. Some don’t like ‘em because of their smell, and they do, but oh well, most everything smells, even people, and some times that’s a problem too. I remember my dad used to always plant marigolds with his tomato plants, kept those big green tomato worms away.

That reminds me, ya know that thing on a tomato worms butt that looks like a stinger. It’s not, but the ole tomato worm hopes ya think it is so ya’ll leave him alone and let ‘em eat all your tomatoes. Damn worm, tricking people like that, must be a republican like the cat.

Seems I remember when I was a kid there was some kinda remedy for toothache using marigolds, but I don’t remember if ya ate ‘em or just smelled ‘em. Either way it probably didn’t work, or else we wouldn’t have so many dentists around. I read somewhere if ya dream of marigolds that indicates happiness in marriage, prosperity, and success. Now I don’t know ‘bout you, but I’ve yet to have my first dream ‘bout marigolds or any other flower for that matter. But if I do, I'm sure I'll let ya know.

The October Full Moon is called “The Full Hunter’s Moon”, it was last Friday night the 22nd , and is always the first full Moon following autumn’s Harvest Moon. I thought ‘bought stargazing Friday night, but the moon was too bright and there were lots of high clouds. So I just watched the moon go in and out of the clouds for a while and enjoyed the cool crisp air of October.

Ever notice how every once in a while how something just grabs your attention and won’t turn loose. Well several days ago I was reading emails and that’s what happened.

A friend wrote “BobbyRay, now that you and Johnny have been out west and almost rode a horse, I thought you might enjoy reading something I find very special.”

This is “A Cowboy’s Prayer” by Jeril Morton from Gans, Oklahoma

Lord, I know grown men don’t cry. But Lord, when I pulled the saddle off Ole Bill and saw that the girth had left a print deep in his side, I had to fight hard to keep the tears from falling.

Then I knelt down to rub Bill’s leg and found d mesquite thorn deep in the muscle. There was a cactus thorn too. But Lord, I didn’t feel Bill flinch, not once. He carried me 50 miles today, and took those yearlings back without me giving him a single command.

But Lord, when I saw the hole in his leg and the dried blood where a yucca plant had jabbed him, I couldn’t hold back the tears any longer.

Lord, I ask you to bless Bill and me, and take the pain away from Bill’s leg. But Lord, if you have only one blessing left for today, give it to Bill. He means more to me than anything I own on earth, and I love him.
Thanks, Lord, and amen.

Stay safe in Afghanistan

From the East Wing, With Sophia On the Campaign Trail, The Waffle House From Hell, Flowers & Full Moons, A Cowboy’s Prayer

I wish you well,
BobbyRay

The Mobil East Wing Coming Home, The Road Falling Away, Piping Sunshine, Bob Allen, Country Roads & Horses, Land On The Mountain, Tech and Twinkies

2010-10-17T17:24:00.000-07:00

Greeting to all and welcome new friends to the East Wing.

As Johnny and I drove past the County Line Sign and descended into Magoffin County the road fell away quick, real quick. Now for those who may not be fully versed in the fine art of Hillbilly Conversation, “the road fell away quick” is simply a very graphic description of an extremely steep declining road in front of you.

And so it did fall away quick, that road leading into Magoffin County. Traveling in the mountains and having an aversion to height makes for an interesting time indeed. When ya traverse the mountains by road beds cut into the side of the rock, ya have two choices, you’re either on the inside of the road next to the mountain, or on the outside next to God, depending on how the road bed is cut in the side of the mountain and which side you’re setting.

As the road fell away quick, I was next to God. Very few rail guards exist on the lesser traveled roads in Kentucky. Ya just learn how to travel or they miss ya when you’re gone. It didn’t take Johnny long to learn how to drive the Kentucky Country Roads. His phone conversation with Bob Allen when we were in Jackson an hour ago had served him well. Johnny’s a quick learner, Bob Allen, knowing that we were not accustom to mountain driving had told Johnny “just watch the signs, they’ll tell ya how to travel”.

And so they did, in graphics and text. Those diamond information signs we all learned ‘bout when we first applied for our drivers licenses take on a whole new meaning when ya see a black curve painted on a yellow diamond more than 180° and a posted speed limit of 10 MPH, and all the while the road is falling away quick. In ‘bout two miles of downhill racing we’re off the mountain and we’re by the creek.

In Kentucky when you’re by the creek, well, that’s ‘bout as low as you’re gona go, ‘cause nothing’s flat, it’s either going up or going down. Now if ya can’t tell up or down where you’re at, just watch the water. The water is always going down. Even from Tiptop the water always flows toward the sea.

There was never a question as where we were going in the mountains, with my GPS on the laptop computer I always knew exactly where we were at all times. It seems sometimes technology gives ya too much information, the darn thing was also showing me how fast the road was falling away. It looked like a clock running backwards.

You’ve all heard the story ‘bout so far in the mountains, they have to pump in sunshine. Well, Bob Allen lives at the end of the pipe. The road’s ‘bout a hundred feet above the house and the descending lane is an adventure unto it’s self. The culvert to cross the creek is almost large enough to drive thru. Rain water runs fast off the hills in a downpour.

It was hard to tell who was most excited to see each other, us or Bob Allen. He was standing on this back porch before we were able to get out of the truck. We shook hands and hugged and shook hands and hugged again. Hillbillies are like that, that shaking hands and hugging stuff, we do that a lot.

We go inside and say hello to Bob’s wife, Toot, don’t know her real name just always called her Toot. Toot offers to feed us, we decline. That is so hillbilly, that offer to feed ya, no sooner do ya walk thru the door and someone’s trying to feed ya or get ya to drink their coffee. We passed on both, with gratitude for the offer.

Bob Allen has lived at this location for many years. One time he told Johnny that when he finally found the place of his dreams, all he had to do was just move Toot in have her start cooking gravy. This family of mountain people truly love where they live, the surroundings, and the friends around ‘em and it all shows on their faces and in their voices and even in the way they shake hands and hug. Happy people, Bob Allen and Toot, they make ya feel at home.

If we’re gona see our real estate holding in Magoffin County this day we need to hit the road right now, and so we’re off to the mouth of Bee Tree, ‘cause that the legal description, “43-39, Mouth of Bee Tree”. I had obtained an aerial map of the section 43 which identified the 39 portion of the map.

Bob Allen took one look at the aerial map, laughed and said the best he could do today was get us in some proximity of our land holdings and point to the side of a mountain. It’d be up there somewhere. Unlike Indiana where most all land is easily identified, land in some parts of Kentucky are not as well defined, in fact extremely difficult to identify in some cases. Bob thought we could locate our land on the side of the mountain, it’s just gona take some doing.

Contact some adjoining land owners, get permission to cross other people’s land, ‘cause our land doesn’t have any road access. That in its self is not unusual or an issue, cause much of the land in the mountains doesn’t have road access. Ya just work that stuff with the neighbor according to Bob Allen. The problem we are facing today is darkness.

Bob didn’t feel we had enough daylight to travel to where we needed to be to allow him to point to the side of mountain to show us almost our little part of paradise. So Bob proposed and alternate plan to use the remaining daylight. That plan was to go see his horses upon the top of the mountain. Then Johnny turned the truck around and we’re off to the races.

We backtracked all the way up the road that fell away quick. All the way back up to the Magoffin County Sign. It was at the very top of this mountain, we took a dirt road leading, not down the other side, rather along the top of the ridge. And so we drove maybe a mile or more, staying all the while on the ridge line, then we came to an area maybe 20 acres or so and almost flat.

Here on the top of the mountain we found many horses, most of the horses belonged to Bob Allen, but some he didn’t recognize, ‘cause in the fall of the year, some people bring their horses up to the top of the mountains and just turn ‘em loose. Both food and water are abundant on the top of the mountain, and it would seen an ideal spot to spend the winter. That way ya don’t have to feed your horse for the winter. I guess ya just leave ‘em up there on the mountain and God takes care of ‘em till you’re ready to ride ‘em again in the springtime. Bob was excited, one his girl horses had a new baby in the last 24 hours. The little baby was running ‘round and having a good time with his mama his first day of being a mountain horse.

We get out to enjoy the view from the top of the hill. Looking to the west is Breathitt County and looking east is into Magoffin County. Such a very special sight, not a house or soul to be seen, just Bob Allen, Johnny, me and the horses. We stood in silence for a while. Ya don’t have to say much in the presence of majestic splendor.

At Bob Allen’s yard, I’d locked in his house location in the GPS on the laptop. On top of the mountain, in the presence of the horses, I checked our current location in reference to Bob’s house and was amazed find were within less than 2 miles from his house. It was ‘bout 25 miles driving to where we were standing.

As darkness closed around us, we had the pleasure of viewing a most beautiful sunset from the vantage point of the top of the mountain. And then the road fell away real quick.

With Bob Allen delivered safely home and us agreeing on how he’d handle the paperwork for our mountain real estate investment, Johnny and I followed that Sunshine Pipeline back to the big road. It was well after dark when Johnny drove onto the Mountain Parkway and turned to the northwest toward Winchester.

The Mountain Parkway, my favorite stretch of Interstate Road in the whole country, runs from Winchester to Salyersville. When ya get onto the parkway at Winchester, you’re still in the Kentucky Bluegrass Country, horses and white fences can be seen for miles. In an hour or so you’re in the high mountains of southeastern Kentucky. The Mountain Parkway ends as Salyersville.

On this night, like all nights, the Mountain Parkway is just another road in the darkness, viewed only to the reach of your head lights. I don’t like traveling this pretty road in the nighttime, but we do. At Winchester we stop for supper. Having had so much for the last 12 hours or so we almost forgot to eat, and for Johnny and me, that’s saying something.

We started the day early, this Tuesday Morning, leaving Roswell GA shortly after sunrise, with Johnny stealing a frog on the way out of town, and now here we sit in Winchester KY at Chili’s waiting for our supper, what else, Chili. With a football game on the flat screens all over the place, I call the she and tell her all’s well in our world and we’ll be home before the sun set across the valley.

I give the she a long distance hug and kiss by cell phone. I love technology and the gadgets that come along. Cell phones, laptop computers, GPS, digital watches, laser lights, pumpkin cannons and twinkies. Yes twinkies. Now these little fellers are marketed as a "Golden Sponge Cake with Creamy Filling". In reality they’re mystery wrapped in cellophane. And I say that ‘bout twinkies ‘cause if ya take one out and just lay it somewhere out of the way, where nothing can get to it. It’ll stay there forever, it’ll not mold, it’ll rot, it’ll not get hard and dry up. It’ll just stay a “Golden Sponge Cake with Creamy Filling". Twinkies are just plain magic wrapped in a “Golden Sponge Cake with Creamy Filling"

By the time we finished supper, Johnny was done driving for the day. With me at the wheel, I’m looking toward Louisville and before two hours had passed so had Louisville. With the bright city lights behind me, I crossed the big bridge. Back Home Again In Indiana. Ya get sleepily late at night driving with a full belly. Just north of Louisville the DAYS INN sign welcomed me home. And so we slept.

One of the true great things ‘bout Indiana is a Cracker Barrel Breakfast when you’re hungry. Johnny had a meeting at 12:30PM in Indianapolis so we made our way up that dreaded strip of I-65 to capital city. Johnny went to his meeting and I sat in the truck and told stories with my fingers to the laptop. And as I told the stories, it dawned on me that I know sign language, but only to computers, not to people. That’s pretty cool, knowing sign language and all.

After his meeting Johnny said he knew a place in Carmel, just north of Indianapolis, that had the world’s best hamburger, but a little pricey. It was the world’s best hamburger. It was a little pricey, and it was worth every pricey cent. I hope to go back and have another hamburger someday, pricey or not. And after the big hamburger I drove home while Johnny slept some more.

As I sit in my beloved East Wing this 17th day of October and watch the leaves falling from the west maple tree in the front garden, which by now has lost most all its leaves, while the east maple tree has yet to lose a single leaf or even start to turn color in the green leaves, I wonder who controls that leaf falling and color changing stuff.

Maybe it’s the same one who plays the wind chimes, that sways the tree branches, that rustles the leaves, who rolls the tumble weeds, the leader of the band.

Stay safe in Afghanistan

The Mobil East Wing Coming Home, The Road Falling Away, Piping Sunshine, Bob Allen, Country Roads & Horses, Land On The Mountain, technology and Twinkies

I wish you well
BobbyRay

From the Mobil East Wing, On the Road Again, Corn Fields and Windmills, Louisville When She Sparkles, The Goats of Roswell, Chicken With The Colonel

2010-10-10T15:59:00.000-07:00

Greetings To All and Welcome New Friends to The East Wing,

Me and Johnny, on the road again. Not gona be cowboys this time, gona be cotton pickers, if we find some cotton. We’re on our way to Georgia, Roswell GA that is. Roswell is a northern suburb of Atlanta. We’re taking my Sister Barbara home from an extended visit to Indiana. And don’t really expect to see any cotton, but will pick some if the opportunity presents itself. Ya gota remember some hillbillies from Starke County have been known to pick stuff from time to time.

Barbara lives in a really neat community in Roswell, it’s not a gated community. But one house does have some real nice goats in the yard. Back in January, I had Johnny take my pictures with the goats. They’re pretty classy goats, some black, some white and some just plain goat colored. One of Barbara’s neighbors is the current president of UPS. Barbara’s late husband, Ed Lopez spent his whole working career doing computer research type work at UPS. Ed died much too soon last January. Me and Ed, we stargazed. My stargazing is not nearly as much fun with Ed gone, but I still do, some.

It’s Sunday early afternoon as we leave the East Wing in bright sunshine, turn south and look forward to a fun four day adventure, me and Johnny and Sister Barbara. With the trip only being in relatively sort segments, I don’t expect to do much if any driving ‘cause Johnny likes to drive and I like to gawk a lot, in fact that is one of my better skills, I’ve honed that skill over years of practice. And now I can gawk with the best of ‘em.

I wonder if I could go back over to that little college in central Ohio and get my PhD in gawking. I already know the paper I’d write. “Gawking in a Foreign Language” by BobbyRay. That would be so cool, I’d learn to gawk in Spanish or maybe Russian or even Chinese . Now I can only gawk in Hillbilly, but am truly good at it. It must be really easy to learn a foreign language, ‘cause just this past Sunday morning at the 11 o’clock mass there was a little baby crying in Spanish. It’s so amazing to think that pretty little baby girl learned to cry in Spanish and she’s not even 6 months old. Now if ya don’t believe in miracles, then you’ve just never seen a pretty little Spanish Angel crying in church. A miracle before your eyes, if there ever was one, that little Spanish Angel.

What’s really cool ‘bout gawking is acting like a tourist and being obnoxious and acting stupid and everybody cuts ya some slack ‘cause they know you’re from out of town, and when they go out of town, they too act stupid. Gawking sure is fun.

The speed at which the corn and soy bean crops have disappeared from the flat lands of northern Indiana ya’d think a magician was at work. Not so, just a combination of early planting, early rain, August drought and September heat make for early picking, and unusual early drying of the crops.

Interestingly enough, ya’d think being able to harvest the crop early makes for happy farmers. That’s not always the case, there are several issues the farmers are dealing with this harvest season. A few days ago I had a farmer in my office who produces seed corn. Now for you non-farmers, that’s the stuff that is used to plant next year’s corn crop. (really it’s more than a year down the road, but to illustrate the point, it easier to just say next year’s crop)

Producing seed corn is a highly specialized type of farming. Without getting into too much detail, suffice to say it takes extra effort to produce seed corn. I first became aware of seed corn farming when I was a little hillbilly boy pulling the tassels from the top of corn stalks.

The problem my farmer client has to deal with this year is the seed corn has dried too much in the field. Regular corn is picked at an ideal moister content of 15%. Seed corn needs to be picked at 20%. Then a very slow dry down process to control the quality of the seed, and to allow the seed to germinate when placed back into the ground.

The test plot to determine if the seed corn was ready to harvest, tested out at 14% moisture it needed to be at least 20%. Samples of the crop have been sent to the Ag Research Labs at Purdue University to determine how best to handle the situation.

The windmill farms north of Lafayette IN now seem pale compared to those seen a few weeks ago when Johnny and I were cowboys. Now that’s not to say that the Brookston Windmills are not impressive, they are. But the sheer volume of the windmills out west is staggering.

As the windmills of northern Indiana blend into the background behind us, we blend into the Federal Interstate Highway System, I-65, southbound toward Indianapolis. Not even 10 miles on I-65 and guess what pops up? Right! A Cracker Barrel. Right there in front of God and everybody, on the east side of I-65. Happy Days Are Here Again!

Ya don’t eat fast at Cracker Barrels, and that’s the way God intended people to eat, slow and enjoying the taste of Cracker Barrel. I’ve even heard that the Cracker Barrel may have catered the Last Supper, but I don’t know that for a fact. I do know they have some really old recipes there.

From the Cracker Barrel to downtown Indianapolis in an hour, with Lebanon thrown in there just to break up the flat land Indiana corn fields with no corn left, only memories of corn gone by this October Sunday. Indianapolis is such a pretty big town. One of my favorite things ‘bout Indianapolis, it don’t smell. Can’t say that ‘bout many cities in the world. And the sad thing ‘bout many of the people who live in those cities that smell, they don’t even know it smells.

Had a conversation the other day with a lady who has just moved to North Judson a few years ago, and dearly loves to live here. She was telling me ‘bout a conversation she overheard when some friends she had invited to her new home in the country were talking with one of her neighbors. The city fellow asked “how’s them outside toilets working for ya?” and the neighbor says “works ok, and oh, by the way, how’s them drive by shooting working out for ya in your neighborhood?” City people AGGH!

One good thing ‘bout traveling with Sister Barbara, she wants to stop a lot, and so we do whatever catches somebody’s eye along the way, we all get to see it when we stop. If I had to pick my least favorite part of the Indiana interstate system, it’s Indianapolis to Louisville I-65 South. Don’t know why, maybe I’ve just rode this concrete ribbon of steel too many times. We stopped twice between Indianapolis and Louisville, once to pee and once to gawk.

Louisville KY at the very edge of the start of the nighttime, a pretty town to behold, tall buildings with pretty lights. Twinkling lights dancing on the waters of the Ohio River makes for a pretty crossing on the big bridge. Traffic delays don’t exist in Louisville on Sunday evening. The same can’t be said for tomorrow morning when the world wakes up to go to work. And tomorrow we’ll still be playing, Johnny and me. For us, tomorrow is the day no work will be done.

Franklin KY is two miles north of Tennessee and a good place to sleep after a fun seven hours of jerking ‘round thru both Indiana and Kentucky. Up with the sun on Monday and off to Georgia, not quite so fast, I’m up with the sun, Sister Barbara don’t do early sun. In fact Sister Barbara don’t do early anything, so Johnny and I go for the free breakfast at the Hampton Inn. A most pleasant surprise, that breakfast at the Hampton Inn. A real breakfast, not one of those coffee and roll deals with old brown bananas and other fruit past its prime. Ya could even make your own waffle, and Johnny did so. I don’t do waffle any more, but that’s another story for another time.

A quick 4 hour run down I-65 to I-24 to I-75 and just like that, we find ourselves in Roswell GA. The goats are inside their goat house when I go by, but I waved just to let ‘em know I’m back. We kick back and relax for a few hours visit with family, sleep a little and up and at ‘em early Tuesday morning, really running early Tuesday morning. Leaving Sister Barbara in Roswell still asleep, means Johnny and I can get started before noon, and we did.

The last time I was at Sister Barbara’s house, back in January, on the way leaving, I stole a stone chicken from one of her gardens. This morning as Johnny drove out the courtyard I asked him to stop and steal one of the stone frogs. I don’t know if that Georgia Frog can stand the cold of Indiana winters, if not guess he’ll have to live in the East Wing. Come to think ‘bout it I’m just gona put him in the East Wing right up, ‘cause Pup Baby sure likes frogs anyways. And besides of all the East Wing stuff, I don’t have a frog, or at least a Georgia Frog, until now.

Did ya ever eat frog legs? I don’t do that, eat frog legs, but the she does. Regina eats every frog leg she comes across. Me, well, I’ve just handled to many frogs in my life to eat ‘em. But I’ve seen some big ones from time to time.

It’s noon on Tuesday and Johnny and I find ourselves in Lake City Tennessee just get gas, pee and go. We’re on a mission this Tuesday as we find our way back home from way down upon the Suwannee River, and the mission is to locate some land I purchased a while back. The land is located somewhere in Magoffin County Kentucky, we just don’t know where yet. But expect to know before the sun sets on this beautiful early fall day in Appalachia. We’re on our way to meet a fellow by the name of Bob Allen, and Bob’s gona show us, what my Mama told me was my “ personal pig in a poke” when I told her I’d bought land sight unseen in Magoffin County KY. But we’ll see.

By 1:30 this afternoon we are looking for somewhere to eat lunch when Johnny spots a sign advertising the original home of Col. Sanders Kentucky Fried Chicken. This house of chicken is on the list of historical landmarks identified by the Federal Department of the Interior. Located in Corbin KY a little town with no other special interests to anyone other than the locals. A little town much like a million others except that Col. Sanders happened to live there. We gawked, ate the chicken, gawked some more, took our pictures with the Col. Sanders statue and it’s back on the road again looking for our land that time forgot somewhere in the mountains of southeastern Kentucky.

We’re two - three weeks too early to see the best of the pretty mountains is all the fall colors, the idea of changing colors has just started to be thought of by the trees here, ya can just tell by the way they hold their leaves. But the green, green mountains of southeastern Kentucky are pretty all the time, year ‘round, just sometimes they’re more spectacular than others. Now when the earth tone colors paint the mountain sides, well, that’s one of the “others” I’s talking ‘bout.

As we drive thru these beautiful mountains, Johnny and I develop a plan to allow us to return in three weeks to see the Annual Fall Color Show of Appalachia, starring in the lead role, Mother Nature herself and co-starring various creatures of the forest including, but not limited to, Bambi, Yoga Bear, Woody Woodpecker, Old Yeller, Pinto the Wonder Horse, and a cast of thousands. It’s always a sellout performance, that Fall Color Show of Appalachia. And everybody that comes to the show gets a front row seat. There are no bad seats in the Kentucky Mountains in the Autumn time of the year .

5:00 PM finds us setting in Jackson KY talking with Bob Allen by cell phone. Yes he knows where our real estate is located, yes he can take us to it, if we can make it before dark. Turns out Bob Allen is 40 miles away and in a part of Kentucky not adjacent to or easily accessible by the interstate highway system. Now when ya got 40 miles to go in the mountains and you’re a flat land driver like Johnny, well, it’s gona take time, ya just know it’s gona take lots of time. Bob Allen tells us we need to take State Road 30 from Jackson to Salyersville, and turn on road 1392, ‘bout 25 miles or so from Jackson.

Now I’ve been on that road before, that State Road 30 from Jackson to Salyersville. On that 30+ miles of road from Jackson to Salyersville there’s not a single stretch of road in a straight line ¼ mile long. The road has curves, lots and lots of curves, and many are more than 180° Now for us non engineers, if a whole circle is 360° that means those curves on State Road 30 are tight, they’re not only tight but often, seems every time ya see the end of the curve ya see the start of the next curve. And so it went as we slowly traversed Road 30, forever climbing to altitude and finally reaching the mountain peak at the Magoffin / Breathitt County Line. We pull over to take our pictures beside the Magoffin County Sign, think better of the idea and just take a picture of the sign, before we start down the other side of the mountain.

Stay Safe in Afghanistan

From the Mobil East Wing, On the Road Again, Corn Fields and Windmills, Louisville When She Sparkles, The Goats of Roswell, Eating Chicken With The Colonel

I wish you well,
BobbyRay

From The East Wing, In The Garden, In The Frost, Microscopes & Telescopes, Newt & Sophia, The Pear Tree, Bomber Birds of November.

2010-10-03T20:19:00.000-07:00

Greeting to all and welcome to my new visitors to the East Wing

Well ya just know it’s fall when your thought turns to frost and when it’s gona happen. This time of year, ya know it will just don’t know when. So here’s a way to tell if it’ll happen tonight when the radio or TV says “frost tonight”

How warm’s it been that day. If the temperature reached 75 degrees F (in the East or North) or 80 degrees F (in the desert Southwest), the chance of the mercury falling below 32 degrees is slim to none.

Is it windy? A still night allows cold air to pool near the ground; a breeze keeps things stirred up. Is it cloudy? If the Sun sets through a layer of thickening clouds, the clouds will slow radiational cooling and help stave off a frost.

What’s the dew point? As a rule of thumb, don't worry about a frost if the dew point (the temperature at which water vapor condenses) is above 45 degrees on the evening weather report. How is your garden located? Gardens on slopes or high ground often survive when the coldest air puddles down in the valleys and hollows.

If you're a gardener, here’re a few tips on getting ready for the frost. When nights get cold, protect tomato, eggplant, and pepper plants with old sheets, paper bags, or plastic at night and remove the coverings in the morning, else they’ll cook when the sun comes out. Bring geraniums indoors before the first frost arrives. Keep them in a sunny window in a relatively moist room, the kitchen is a good spot. ‘Course your other moist room is the bathroom, but ya just don’t want too many geraniums in the potty.

Cut the basil and other tender herbs before a frost. Even if they survive the frost, they don't do well in cold temperatures. The same is true for summer squash, peppers, and most annuals. Harvest all tomatoes and let them ripen indoors on tabletops or counters out of the sun. Another way for tomatoes, it to pick the green tomatoes and wrap ‘em up in brown paper, put ‘em in a cool dark place and guess what, they’ll turn red. When I was a kid, my dad done the brown paper tomatoes every year. Not as good as the regular thing, but it’ll be better than nothing after the frost.

Now ‘bout that coming frost, we don’t have to guess when it’s coming to the East Wing this year. At ‘bout 4:30 AM this Sunday morning, when Pup Baby hada go pee, the frost was on the pumpkins, not a lot, but enough to call it a frost.

But ya gota love the weather of the fall. Not even talking ‘bout the color yet, just the mild days and the oh so cool nights. Ya sleep good in the Autumn Nighttime.

Did ya ever see photograph of a snow flake? Frost is much the same thing as a snow flake, just a lot smaller, a whole lot smaller, ice crystals both. I’ll never forget the first time I saw a snowflake under a microscope, it was magic. I remember the last time I saw one it’s still magic. They’re all different ya know, those snowflakes and frost crystals.

Everybody has things in life they’re thankful for, and for me, two things come to mind. When I was a kid in downtown Toto, I cut grass for a lady by the name of Burger, never knew her first name, always just called her Mrs. Burger, every time I cut her grass, she paid me 25¢, ‘course that was pretty good money, back in the day. It was a reel type mower, not horsepower, boy power, and we, that reel mower and me, we just kept the grass cut for Mrs. Burger.

Now Mrs. Burger also gave me two things that were more important than the quarters, things that changed my life forever. One was a typewriter and the other was a microscope. With that little typewriter I taught myself to type, and haven’t shut up since.

With the microscope I found myself looking at anything and everything small, really, really, small. Eyes of flies, legs of ants, fingers of frogs, hairs from things , and lots of things have hairs, inside the wings of butterflies and bugs, lots of bugs, they all became friends of mine. Grains of sand become boulders under my microscope.

I’d found stuff that nobody I knew, knew. And so I’ve spent much of my life looking at both really little stuff. It was not too long after the eyes of flies that I discovered oil immersion on a microscope and another whole world opened before my eyes. Telescopes and microscopes, one sees little and one sees far, far away and both show magic when ya look thru ‘em.

With all that being said ‘bout getting your garden ready to deal with the upcoming frost. If your garden was like most folks I know, your garden didn’t do well this year. Too much water early, too little water late just don’t make for a fine garden all summer long. Oh well, just like the Cubs, there’s always next year, and there’s a thing called hope. I think hope spelled backwards is CUBS !

Sophia’s beside herself when it comes to the upcoming midterm elections, she’s so excited I thought she would pee her pants the other day as she answered a phone call from Newt Gingrich. Oh sure, the Newt wants Sophia the Republican Cat on his team ‘cause he’s running for president, just like all the other also ran’s in the republican party.

Yet none of ‘em will tell ya so. They go about it in a subtle kinda way, those republicans. Always downgrading the president and his efforts to improve the economy and the overall situation within the country. Yet never offering any real alternative to the situation. And, God forbid, if the President reminds ya of the former administration and the short comings there, well there ya go again, blaming Bush.

But with 30 days or so out from the elections, it does smack of the rats abandoning ship it ya look at what is happening at the White House. The big guns are all jumping overboard before the ship hits the iceberg. “Ya can’t blame me if I’m no longer a part of that mess at the White House. It’s them, not me. I know nothing”.

Chicago Politics just kinda sucks. Always has, always will. It don’t work anywhere in the world except Chicago. Don’t work in Washington D.C. that’s for sure. The people of this great land still have a voice in the way things are handled in Washington D.C. It will be most interesting to see the real outcome, come November. One thing for sure, Sophia is looking forward. She can hardly wait.

One of the really neat things ‘bout this time of the year, Pears, yes Pears, I love Pears. Too many people just don’t give the Pears the respect they deserve in this world. Apples, apples, apples it all ya hear ‘bout come the fall season, apples and pumpkins, apples and pumpkins. Seldom ever a word ‘bout Pears.

Just down the road to the west from the East Wing was one of the very best Pear Trees I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing in my lifetime. First met that ole Pear Tree shortly after I met the she, and that was a ways back. One taste from that Pear Tree and I was a fan for life. I don’t even know the number of years I’ve picked Pears from that, my favorite Pear Tree, but alas, no more.

My favorite Pear Tree was fenced into a feed lot for finishing out steers, and guess what. Yep, you’re right, the steers ate all the bark from around my Pear Tree, and yep, it died. RIP my very favorite Pear Tree, I’ll miss ya next year. A hundred year old Pear Tree eaten by a dumb cow. AUUH!

There are too few Pear Trees in this world. Pears in cans is just not right, it’s just not right. Try to imagine, if you will, how different this world would be had Adam simply eaten a Pear. That thought brings a whole new meaning to “life was simple and easy back then”. But even if Adam had eaten a Pear, I still wouldn’t like snakes.

Ya know there’re some flavors that are just made for each other, like cheddar with apples, coffee with chocolate, and pears with blue cheese and almonds. The sweetness of pears is the perfect complement to the creamy tang of blue cheese and rich, nutty flavors like almonds. I’m telling ya, if ya don’t like pears with blue cheese and almonds, ya got a problem in life, ya may not know it yet, but ya do.

Before ya know it it’ll be time to go see the sand hill cranes again. Did ya ever see those big birds? Large things with 6’ wing span, some maybe even larger. Seeing these sand hill cranes in flight sure gives ya an idea of where the Stark Track people got their designs for alien space craft. If these birds had cloaking technology, well, it would be a site to see, or maybe not if they’re cloaked.

Somewhere between 30,000 and 60,000 sand hill cranes arrive over in the Jasper Pulaski Game Preserve, just ‘ bout 15 miles or so to the west of the East Wing starting in late October and stay till mid December. We’re on the north south fly path and the birds stop here to eat and rest and look at the people who come to see the sand hill cranes.

They eat the left over gain from the just picked corn and soy bean crop here in northern Indiana. Each day the birds will fly out as far as 25 miles in search of food and water. Both are always readily available from multiple sources. It’s sand hill crane county come late October. Seems those big long necked birds show
up ‘bout the same time as pumpkins. Wonder if anybody ever tried to eat sand hill crane and pumpkin pie.

It’s hard to tell who has the most fun gawking, the people or the birds. I’m voting the birds. The best of the bird show for the sand hill cranes starts just a few minutes after day light each morning when they go out for breakfast. Few things are more spectacular than seeing over 30,000 birds take flight all within few seconds of each other. They split the wind, those sand hill cranes, when they fly.

Coming home at night is almost as spectacular just in a different fashion. One time I set along the road side, looking to the east, with all the crops having been harvested, the horizon to the east was several miles from my vantage point. What stopped me in my tracks was the site in the sky, flying in formation, looking much like what I recalled seeing movies of WWll bomber formations flying out of England toward Europe was the sand hill cranes returning home for the night.

As far as I could see to the east, the bombers filled the sky. I stood underneath the flight path of those sand hill bombers flying in formation. As one of those bomber bird formations flew overhear and the splat sound from my windshield reminded me these bombers carry different ammunition.

Stay safe in Afghanistan

From The East Wing, In The Garden, In The Frost, Microscopes & Telescopes, Newt & Sophia, The Pear Tree, Bomber Birds of November.

I wish well,
BobbyRay

From the East Wing, Crayolas At Weeksbury, Tiptop & Thanksgiving Hand Turkeys, Sophia & Glen Beck, Full Moons & Root Cellars

2010-09-26T17:28:00.000-07:00

Greeting to all and welcome new friends to the East Wing.

Got an email the other day from a fellow asking me if I was the same BobbyRay who went to the first grade at Weeksbury KY. Well the answer is/was yes. Unlike the Tiptop Public School System where I got much of my elementary education, the Weeksbury School was brand spanking new when I was a student.

All washed up and dressed in brand new bibbed overalls, my Mama pushed me out the front door along with my two older sisters so I could go get my education in the new School House, built up there on the hill. And so off I went to school for the very first time.

Now the school at Weeksbury was built with donated funds from the coal miners themselves. Even though they, as a group, were poorly educated people they recognized the need to educate their children, and I’m glad they did, ‘cause I’m one of ‘em . So the two storey brick building was constructed high on a hill, way away from an threat of a flood.

‘Cause one of the things ya gota watch for in the mountains is the threat of a flood. All too often raging flash floods destroy life and limb before people can even get away from the water. Whole towns have been swept away in the dark of night and no one even knew it was coming. So putting the Weeksbury School high on the mountain was those miners way of saying “my babies will never be washed away in the school house during a flood”. It had happened before there in Kentucky, babies washed away in the school house during a flood.

To tell ya the truth, the feller that sent me the email, well, I just didn’t remember ‘em, but I acted like I did. Told him I thought I still had his picture from the first grade. Now some of you may well have pictures from the first grade, and some may even remember the names. But you’re thinking I had the same type pictures you had. I didn’t have that kind.

The kind where they lined everybody up in rows or sat everybody on seats in rows and took a photograph. That wasn’t exactly the way we done it at Weeksbury. We sorta done our own pictures in the first grade there at the Weeksbury School, way up there on the mountain.

There were 18 kids in that class and the school supplies and resources available were rather limited. I remember when the school year started out, the class had a new box of Crayolas, one of those 8 packs, eight little colors all in a row in that yellow and green box with the lid that ya had to remember to tuck back in place else your colors would all fall out when ya moved the box. Cost a nickel back then, 5₵ a box and worth every penny.

With 18 kids and just 8 crayons for the whole class, ya kinda see the problem developing here don’t ya. And so we shared those black, blue, brown, green, orange, red, violet and yellow crayons. We ran out of crayons before it was time to draw those Thanksgiving Turkeys, the kind ya spread out your hand and draw the outline and color it all in.

That Thanksgiving Turkey ya took home so proud to your mama, that kind. Well we done that first Thanksgiving Turkey at the Weeksbury School in pencil. One good thing ‘bout going to school at Weeksbury, they had a backup plan and the backup plan was the pencil, else I’d never have learned the ole Thanksgiving Hand Turkey Technique.

I still remember how proud I was to take my first Thanksgiving Hand Turkey to my Mama, and how excited she seemed to be to get it. I was just as excited years later when my kids brought home their Thanksgiving Hand Turkeys. There’s something ‘bout Thanksgiving Hand Turkeys, they just make everybody feel better. I think it’s that part of ‘em that makes ya sleep or something like that.

But now getting back to the first grade class picture there at the Weeksbury School, way up there on the mountain. The teacher, Miss Merrymay, said we could each draw a picture of the classmate sitting next to us and color it in.

There was a big fat girl setting next to me and I didn’t want to waste a lot of the crayons filling in her picture, so I just drew a stick man with my pencil. I don’t think everybody was as concerned ‘bout saving the crayons as me, else they’d been enough when it was time for the Hand Turkeys.

My dad got a job with the Federal Department of the Interior doing safety inspections inside coal mines in eastern Kentucky and we moved away from Weeksbury before I finished the first grade. By the time I went to a new first grade school they’d already made their Thanksgiving Hand Turkeys.

They too had run out of Crayons for the year and were reduced to using pencils for everything. Thank God for enough pencils for everything, else I’d not only have not learned to color, I’d have not learned to write. ‘Course come folks think I still can’t write, but oh well it sure beats just thinking ‘bout it.

The neat thing I remember ‘bout crayons is when I started the third grade at the Tiptop School, well, I marched up that hill to the Tiptop School House that morning in the bright sunshine, that day after Labor Day, carrying a brand new box of Crayolas, to be used for my excusive coloring experiences in the third grade. All eight of ‘em, lined up there in that green and yellow box, just waiting for me to tell ‘em what to color.

I had already wrote my name on the inside of that little lid that holds the colors inside the box. Wrote “BobbyRay” in cursive ‘cause during that summer my sister Barbara had taught me to write in cursive and I was so proud to be able to write in cursive, didn’t have any cousins at Tiptop that could write in cursive, and I had lot of cousins at Tiptop.

They were all mine, those 8 sticks of color magic as I went to the third grade in Tiptop, but before the day was over I’d decided I’d share with my cousin Pino, his real name was Pilipino but we all called him Pino. He was one of my 12 cousins living at Tiptop and they didn’t all have their own crayons like I had. So me and Pino, we shared. That year our colors lasted well past the Thanksgiving Hand Turkey Season and we almost made it to Christmas but the brown ran out before it was time to color Rudolf, and besides the red was gone too. So we made snow men using pencil on white paper for Christmas, me and Pino.

As the reports of polls for the upcoming midterm elections continue to paint a picture of gloom and doom for the democratic party, Sophia the Republican Cat is in her glory. She spends much of her days now working the phones for various candidates, both local as well as statewide and national. Sophia taped a phone interview with Glen Beck the other day and ya’d think she’d talked to God himself, ‘course Glen Beck seems to think he can walk on water. I take that back Glen Beck doesn’t think he can walk on water, but he does think he can wade really high.

The 2girldogs are so fed up with Sophia asking them if they’re liking that change he was talking ‘bout. They’ve started singing “We Shall Overcome”. The Pup Baby even asked me if there is such a thing as political discrimination. When I said no. She asked if I thought Sophia was a racist for always picking on the 2girldogs. Told her I didn’t know, she needs to ask Al Sharpton. Can you imagine the Rev. Al and Sophia The Republican Cat. WOW ! A match made in both heaven and hell. And I don’t rightly know who comes from where. Damn Republican Cat.

Did ya see the full moon on the night of the 23rd ? WOW ! such a pretty. The Harvest Moon of September, always one of the very best of full moons. I think my two favorite full moons are the Harvest Moon of September and the cold Wolf Moon of January.

I don’t know if I ever told ya ‘bout all the names of the full moons. Oh well if I ever did here we go again. January, the Wolf Moon / February, the Snow Moon / March, the Worm Moon / April, the Pink Moon / May, the Flower Moon / June, the Strawberry Moon / July, the Buck Moon / August, the Sturgeon Moon / October, the Hunter’s Moon / November, the Beaver Moon / and finally for December, the Cold Moon.

Always thought the moon names are kinda cool. Some seem to make since and some, I don’t have a clue where the name came from. It’s kinda like that stuff we’re talking ‘bout a while back. That naming stuff and all. It would have been kinda cool to have named the full moons. If I’d named ‘em we wouldn’t have a Flower Moon, but we’d for sure have a BobbyRay Moon.

Did ya ever hear of a root cellar? Oh sure, it’s a place to put your roots, but more specific long before we had refrigeration it was a place to store food stuff that needed to be kept at a lower temperature than the outside air. The root cellar was named in part for its location dug under the ground and also because it was used to store root type crops such as potatoes, carrots, turnips, and such. One really important item often stored in root cellars were apples, lots and lots of apples.

When I was a kid having a root cellar was a status symbol of doing well in life. If ya had enough stuff to put into a root cellar, then weren’t going hungry. Dug into the ground 8 to 10’ deep and lined with either stone or wood, depending on the water level of the location meant the bottom temperature of the root cellar would forever remain below the outside air.

The ideal temperature to store apples and other stuff in the root cellar is 8° above freezing, or 40°F. As many of you know the one wife owns and operates Pioneer Florist in North Judson. She has an old antique walk in icebox converted into a florist flower cooler, which she uses to store her cut flowers and fresh green stuff and guess what, it’s just like a root cellar, must be, ‘cause she keeps the temperature set at 40°F.

It’s kinda neat to go into the Pioneer Florist Root Cellar. Go in the summer and it feels great. In the winter if ya come in directly from being outside for a long time and go inside the Florist Root Cellar, it feels great. Root Cellars are like that, yeah they are.

Stay safe in Afghanistan

From the East Wing, Crayolas At Weeksbury, Tiptop & Thanksgiving Hand Turkeys, Sophia & Glen Beck, Full Moons & Root Cellars
I wish you well,
BobbyRay

From the East Wing with Joel Osteen, Ember Days, Night King, Bagels & Lox, Gefilte Fish, Chicken & Dumplings

2010-09-19T16:13:00.000-07:00

Greetings to all, and welcome new friends to the East Wing.

We, me and the she, had a night on the town a while back. Along with my son, John, we went to Indianapolis and attended a Joel Osteen program at the home of the Indiana Pacers, right there in Conseco Fieldhouse. Downtown Indianapolis, ‘bout as downtown as ya can get in Indianapolis, that Conseco Fieldhouse.

Now Regina’s a big fan of Joel Osteen and she loved the program. John and I equally enjoyed the program. It was an inspiring evening for sure.

Crowds in excess of 18,000 came right there, to Conseco Fieldhouse, to hear a fellow who simply said, believe in yourself, think only good thoughts about yourself as well as others. Make it a purpose in your life to do good deeds. Help your neighbor, help your friend, help a stranger, help yourself to a better life.

A simple message, packaged much the same as a rock concert. Laser lights, high volume music, but that’s where the comparison stopped. No wild unruly audience, no cigarette lighter flicking in the darkness, no drugs, no smoke, no puking on the floor, just people taking in the message. And the message was simple, do good things in your life, and you’ll be rewarded.

By now most of ya kinda know my views on TV Preachers. Lord knows I’ve ripped into ‘em from time to time. And I’ve yet to take back a single word I’ve ever said ‘bout TV Preachers. Joel Osteen doesn’t fit the TV Preacher mold. He doesn’t spend 26 of his 30 minutes TV time begging for money. He doesn’t line up 25 people with illnesses, all of which have to do with hearing, and then proceed to heal each and everyone, to demonstrate his direct communication with God.

No, Joel Osteen doesn’t heal sickness and afflictions on TV. He talks ‘bout life and how one can change their life by the way they think, do, and pray. A simple message, a single message from Joel Osteen.

I’d read and heard of Joel Osteen for some time, never really thought too much one way or the other, the she is a big fan and watches him every Sunday evening. After attending the Indianapolis program and listening to his message, I’m taken back by some of the comments I’ve received ‘bout Joel Osteen.

Last Sunday I had an occasion to be in the company of some people I’d not seen or talked to for some time. We were just in the process of visiting, enjoying each other’s company, when he says “what ya been up to lately Bob” I tell him that me and the she went to Indianapolis to see Joel Osteen. That as far as I got when my friend interrupted said “Oh, he’s anti-catholic” I said “oh, really” and he said “yes and anti-Jewish too”

Now I’d just listened to this fellow talk for two hours, two days ago, have read two of his many books and had not seen or heard a single word ‘bout either Catholic or Jewish. So I just changed the subject and my friend and I continued to enjoy each other’s company. But it perked my curiosity, why did this friend say such things ‘bout somebody he admitted he never seen or listened to on TV or read any of his writings. Yet make such damning statements against a person he didn’t know. I decided to find out why.

The quest for answers started with my Mama. I said “Mama ya ever hear a fellow named Joel Osteen?”. Mama says “oh, sure”. I say “whata ya think?” Mama says “I’m glad ya asked, ‘cause Joel Osteen’s biggest problem is he never tells the bad stuff”. I say “what bad stuff Mama?” She says “all that part ‘bout doing right and doing good is fine and dandy, but ya need to also know what’s gona happen to ya if ya don’t do all that good stuff”. I said “Mama ya sound like ya want the man to preach Hellfire and Brimstone”. Mama says “A little Hellfire and Brimstone never hurt anybody, it taught you right from wrong”. And so it had. My Mama, right again.

Not content that everybody shared my Mama’s views I chose to explore further into Joel Osteen matter. The occasion presented itself just two days later, in my office walks a Minister of the Gospel. I ask him pretty much the same questions as my Mama. His answer surprised me. “All he does is beg for money and his preaching’s not based on the bible”. Wow, I once again changed the subject from Joel Osteen.

Outside my Mama’s assessment of Joel Osteen, I can’t help but wonder is there may be some professional jealousy involved here. Seems ya either love or hate this guy, and if ya don’t love him then ya have to find some reason to hate him. He’s anti-catholic, he’s anti-Jew, all he does is beg for money, his words are not bible based.

If ya want to hate a person, it’s surprisingly easy it is to find all the bad reasons in the world to support that hate. If ya want to love ‘em it’s just as easy to find the reasons why ya do love ‘em. Joe Osteen, an inspiring evening to remember. A simple message, packaged in a Christian Rock Concert that played to a different crowd. Ya would have loved it. The music was loud, the message was clear. Now the fellow’s not Charlton Heston, but then again neither was Moses.

Do ya know ‘bout Ember Days? Supposed to be able to tell the weather for the next three months by the weather on each of the three Ember Days. This year those days are Sep. 15th 17th 18th The first tells the weather for October, the second day tells the weather for November and the third for December. With that being said, we now know that Sep 15th was a beautiful weather day, so that mean October will be absolutely perfect fall weather, I can hardly wait. The 17th was most sunny with some clouds and that means that November will also have overall nice weather. Saturday was a warm day and sunny so December is gona be a lot warmer than normal, but a big snow’s in there somewhere come Christmas Time. Remember the heavy rain last Saturday. We’ll see.

Seen that big bright star in the night sky? it’s Jupiter, sometimes called the “Night King” ‘cause when it’s in our night sky, it’s the brightest star of the lot, and there’re a lot. It’s kinda interesting this time by, ‘cause Jupiter is the closest it’s been to earth since 1963. It takes twelve Earth years for Jupiter to go ‘round the sun, and from where we stand looking into the night sky, Jupiter spends one month every year visiting a different zodiacal constellation.

Just as a rule of thumb, look toward the southern sky and pick out the brightest start, it’s probably Jupiter. This year Jupiter is gona hang ‘round for a while, in fact, Jupiter will be in our night sky the rest of this year. I like to look at Jupiter in the telescope, it’s an easy and fun planet to look at in the late summer, early fall night sky.

Jupiter has some interesting facts, like 63 moons, and if ya could stand somewhere way, way out in space and look at Jupiter as it passed by, well, you’d see something like a trail from a jet flying overhead. Jupiter is 11 times larger than Earth, and has over 300 times more mass, (just pain stuff) and the mass of Jupiter is only one quarter the density of Earth. So I guess if ya walked on Jupiter it’s kinda like walking knee deep in jello.

I almost forgot, if ya weight 100 lbs on Earth, well it’s 240 lbs on Jupiter. Now if ya weigh more than a 100 lb, just do the math, your weight times 2.4 oh my! ‘Course that don’t count the weight of your coat, ‘cause if you’re there it’s cold. Real cold, it’s a negative 234°. That the kind with the little - in front of the numbers like -234°. So it don’t matter how cold you’ve been, you’ve not been that cold.

I got an old thermometer at the East Wing, one of those round things with a spring that moves by the temperature of the air, in turn it moves the little dial we look at. Well that old thermometer only goes to -60°. I’ve never seen it colder than -32° only one time in my life since I’ve lived at the East Wing.

Now my real weather station is all digital and as such I don’t know how low it will go…. I sure hope I don’t find out this coming winter. But if I do, you’ll hear ‘bout it.

Sure had an interesting and most enjoyable series of email conversations this past week with some Jewish friends of the East Wing. Even got invited to go to New York City and east Jewish Food. I declined. We hillbilly boys don’t stray too far from pinto beans and cornbread. The offering were of the most traditional of Jewish foods.

Bagels and Lox. Is there anybody who doesn't know what a bagel is? A bagel is a donut-shaped piece of bread that is boiled before it is baked. They are often topped with poppy seeds or sesame seeds, or flavored with other ingredients. The bagel has been a part of Jewish cuisine for at least 400 years.

There are references to bagels as far back in Poland as 1610. For the Jews here in America, bagels are served with cream cheese and lox (smoked salmon) or other fish spreads like herring, whitefish. The paragraph below is a direct quote from parts of my conversation on Jewish foods with some folks out east.

“Those chewy hockey pucks that you find in your grocer's freezer bear little resemblance to a real bagel. A real bagel is soft, warm and spongy inside, lightly crispy outside. A fresh bagel does not need to be toasted, and should not be. Toasting is a sorry attempt to compensate for a sub-standard bagel.”

One of the things I fully believe in is to try and learn something new every day of your life, and that day it was how ya compensate for a sub-standard bagel. Now granted, it wasn’t the most stunning revelation I’ve ever encountered, but it was something, never the less. The sun did not set that day without me learning something.

After reading ‘bout gefilte fish, I concluded its kinda like Jewish Scrapple. If ya wanta eat it, do, but don’t get too personal about its heritage. I’ve eaten the Scrapple of Pennsylvania, but this gefilte fish thing, well, I’m gona let that ole gefilte fish just swim on by.

Another favorite of my Jewish friends is matzah ball soup. Without getting too technical into Jewish cooking, matzah ball are made similar to a more recognized American dish, dumplings, as in chicken and… Using eggs and Matzah flour and a special secret ingredient of Jewish Grandma special love for family, Matzah ball are produced. Hand shaped and cooked in a very thin chicken broth, eaten either ping-pong size or a single large Matzah ball in your soup.

And guess what, they even have both floaters and sinkers. Yah, floaters and sinkers in Matzah balls. The more I’m thinking ‘bout this whole deal, Why these Jewish people have stolen the secret hillbilly formula of Chicken and Dumplings and smuggled it out of the country. Right under our noses they’ve stolen the Chicken and Dumplings Recipe and renamed it. And they thought we’d never find out. Yah, Right!

A recipe we’ve had for a long, long time, that Chicken and Dumplings . And they say the Matzah Ball Soup is served at the Passover, and that’s only been here since the National Football League started.

Chicken and Dumplings and Matzah Ball Soup, floaters and sinkers with common ground, is that a pair to draw to or what? The food fit for Gods. I’ve tried ‘em both and liked ‘em both. Does that make me a little Jewish or the Jews a little hillbilly? Don’t know, but I did know a Jewish kid when I lived in Kentucky. He ate Chicken and Dumplings. I think the reason was it’ so hard to get good Matzah at Tiptop, maybe a big city like Salyersville, but not at Tiptop.

Stay safe in Afghanistan

From the East Wing with Joel Osteen, Ember Days, Night King, Bagels & Lox, Gefilte Fish, Chicken & Dumplings

I wish you well,
BobbyRay

From the East Wing, with Pup Baby Turning the Page, The Cat & The Polls, Newton’s Fig, Wayne & Apple, Eggs with a B, Sophia’s “F” Word, Idiot of The W

2010-09-12T17:00:00.000-07:00

Greetings to all, and welcome new friends to the East Wing.

Seems Sophia’s taken a page from the President himself, Just after he spoke the other night on national TV ‘bout the war in Iraq, the Pup Baby started to tell me her side of the story as to things that went wrong while I was away.

Mustina hadn't much more than started when Sophia interrupted and grabbed a line direct from the President when he was describing President Bush’s contribution to the war effort in Iraq, the President said “Enough said, it time to turn the page” Sophia in her most authoritative voice interrupted the Pup Baby said “Enough sid, it’s time to turn the page”. And Mustina said, “NO! it’s my turn to tell all the bad stuff ya did while he's away”.

Sophia was so dumbfounded to think Mustina wouldn’t “turn the page”. She proposed to clear the air amongst the East Wing family by using a third party arbiter to settle all disputes, now and forever in the future. Where upon the 2girldogs agreed. Sophia proposed a disinterested third party to be the arbiter, a disinterested third party person who could bring unencumbered partiality to the process. The Pup Baby jumped on it and said “that’s what we need, fairness”.

And when Sophia proposed Sara Palin be the arbiter, Did ya ever see 2girldogs gone wild? Ya think there’s problems in other parts of the world, try dealing with Sophia the Republican Calico Cat, 2girldogs gone wild, and then throw in Spike.

The next day after the arbiter deal is soundly rejected, Sophia’s in high cotton, it seems the political winds are blowing toward a likely republican land slide come November. She stuck that in our face for three days in a row. But Mustina, being the faithful democrat, said “ya can’t believe the polls” as Sophia smiled.

Did ya ever notice how when polling data is in opposition to your personal point of view, ya tend to downgrade the validity of the poll. I remember having a class over at The Ohio State University, that’s a little school ‘bout in the middle of Ohio that plays football from time to time when the weather cools off toward the fall time of the year.

When they do play football it’s in a little stadium shaped like a horseshoe and guess what, it’s called the Horseshoe. Yah, the Horseshoe, and sometimes over 100,000 people come to that little Horseshoe to watch ‘em play football. Call themselves Buckeyes, can ya imagine that, calling themselves Buckeyes, it just don’t seem right, calling yourself Buckeyes and all, and playing not even in a real stadium, playing in a Horseshoe, but they do win from time to time, those Buckeyes in that Horseshoe, over there in the middle of Ohio.

The class was called Statists. We learned how to analyze polling data, but just as importantly, we learned how to construct the polls to achieve a desired outcome.

To have faith in poll data ya gotta know a lot more than just the end result. At the very least ya gotta know the actual wording of the question and the total number of people answering the question. A simple example being, if ya asked a yes or no only question to 3 people and a majority said yes. You can make an absolutely truthful statement that 67% of those responding supported the position. Ya can’t look at the results, ya gotta see the guts of the poll construction. Most polls are constructed in such a way to achieve the desired outcome before the first question is ever asked.

The polling of political opinions have become quite accurate over the years, that combined with exit polling on election days tend to take some of the excitement away from the end of election day. I like to watch national election coverage on TV after the vote. What I don’t like is when the network calls an election 2 minutes after the election both closes. I hate when that happens.

Does the name Stephen Hawking ring a bell, if not it will pretty soon. Stephen Hawking is a British physicist and mathematician who until his retirement last year held the Lucasian Chair of Mathematics at Cambridge University for ‘bout 30 years. The Chair of Mathematics at Cambridge University is generally considered the single most important Chair of Mathematics in all the academic world. After all, this position was once held by Isaacs Newton, himself.

Now if the name Isaacs Newton doesn’t sound familiar, well he has a few things going for him. Like he invented the Fig Newton for one, and he’s related to Wayne for two. Also one day Isaacs saw an apple falling from a tree, and from that simple sighting developed a basic law of physics which pretty much says “don’t stand under the apple tree if ya don’t want to be hit on the head with falling apples.”

‘Course I’m paraphrasing the physical law Newton stated a bit in order not to get deep into scientific terminology, but ya get the jest of that apple deal. Isaacs Newton was, and still is considered to be one of the greatest scientific minds ever to walk this earth. His contribution to mankind's knowledge is immeasurable. I think ya can now buy Apple Newton’s too. Isaacs Newton contributed a lot.

But getting back to Stephen Hawking, in a book he has written and soon to be published, he said that the universe did not need God as the creator. That the laws of physics will justify the existence of the universe without any God being around to kick start the process.

I’m a little surprised that such an uproar over Hawking’s position, ‘cause over much of his writings throughout his lifetime one can only get the impression that he’s never had faith in God, has had faith only in the mind of Stephen Hawking. Yet I’m sure this new book will create a great public debate on the issue. Sure seems to me a great way to sell more books, it’s like plugging the watermelon, take a look inside before ya open the prize. If its red (read) ya can hardly wait to get inside. Oh sure, you’ll pay.

Have ya noticed how the corn in the fields appears ready to harvest? I happened to notice that right at the end of August, thinking that’s an example of genetic engineering at work if there ever was one. We talk ‘bout cloning people as being an infringement on God’s handy work.

DUH! What ‘bout the plant world, we’ve altered the genetic makeup of damn near everything on this planet in one way or the other. We either changed the genes or sprayed enough chemicals that the plant was forced to change it’s self. For sure most all the things we eat or things we make other animals eat has been changed to suite our lifestyle and convenience.

Gotta stop saying stuff like the above paragraph, else people will think I a tree hugger or something like that, or even worse, I'm not, just think it interesting to look at all the artificial changes we’ve effected in nature. Then along comes Salmonella in eggs, 1200 people get sick in the whole nation of some 320 million people, and we throw away a half billion eggs. Ya know how much a half billion of any thing is? Me neither, so I decided to do the math. It’s a lot.

A half billion is written as 500,000,000.00 One thousand is written as 1,000.00 In this country we use 90,000,000,000.00 eggs per year, that’s 90 billion eggs. Another way to look at that many eggs, well it’s 7,500,000,000.00 dozen eggs. I’m sure ya can visualize that many dozen eggs much better than just plain 90 billion eggs. Yah right, just close your eyes and ya can see all those little white egg cartons, all stacked up all 7,500,000,000.00 of ‘em. I don’t care who ya are, that's a lot of eggs cartons.

There’s always such interesting ways to illustrate large numbers of anything, like the eggs above, in those little white cartons, laid end to end, them eggs, they’d go from New York to California over 475 times. If ya wanted to stretch those little white boxes of eggs to the moon, why they’d go there over 5 ½ times. Lots of eggs boxes there.

If we took those same 90,000,000,000.00 eggs and turned 'em into dollars and applied those dollars toward the National Debt, it wouldn’t start to make a dent in the debt. We accumulate National Debt much, much faster than we accumulate eggs. Too bad we can’t pay off our National Debt in eggs.

Did ya know that China holds more of the US Treasury Notes than anybody else in the whole world? Even more than US citizens. Kinda scary if ya ask me. Whatta we gona do if they want their money back? I say give 'em eggs. It’d be our luck that if we paid ‘em in eggs they’d turn right ‘round and raise the price of egg drop soup. With our own eggs even! Damn Chinese Republicans!

Sophia sure is pleased with the outpouring of love and affection she received from her support base after last week’s attack from the 2girldogs and Spike. Seems Sophia somehow feels that I sited with her position on the whole issue of her behavior while I was away. The fact that she had to apologize to the 2girldogs and Spike didn’t seem to phase her, when asked why not, said she’d crossed her paws so it didn’t even count, and besides they are still picking or her anyway.

I'll mention here that Sophia told me the only “F” word she knows is Fur. And that she doesn’t ever answer any email that contain “F” words other than Fur. I’ll give the cat credit, a mean political point of view when it comes to some topics, from time to time, but she's never fallen into the trap of expressing her opinion with words any stronger than what my mama will accept. Sophia's always aware that no matter what she says, Grandma Ruth is gona read it, and nobody says bad words ‘round Grandma Ruth and lives to tell ‘bout it. Mainly ‘cause mama’s a democrat and we democrats don't say dirty words, 'cept Damn Republican Cat.

My mama was, and still is the biggest of Bill Clinton fans in all of Indiana. One time a few years ago, mama said “ One of the only sad things in my life is not being able to vote for Bill Clinton again to be my President.” I said, “Mamma what did Bill Clinton ever do for ya”. Mama said “Everything”. My mama likes President Clinton. Mama has expressed some concerns ‘bout President Obama and his ability to do his job, while she still longs for Bill Clinton. My Mama's a Clinton girl forever.

Did ya remember that September 9th is Rosh Hashanah? it was the beginning of the Jewish New Year and the beginning of ten Days of Penitence. Rosh Hashanah is a celebration of the creation of the world in the Jewish tradition. Calah dipped in honey brings a new year of sweetness according to the Jewish tradition. Never cared too much for Jewish food, too Kosher for me.

Now if ya wanta get some dope 'bout that Kosher stuff then ya need to read the Bible, more specifically the Book Leviticus in the Old Testament. Leviticus is kinda like God is working out the details of how things are gona work out between him and the Israelites. It's sort of laying out the detail for all that stuff earlier in the Bible, that Genesis and Exodus stuff.

My impression of Leviticus is lots or rules, rules on most everything. Rules for social relationships, behavior, community activity. I think Leviticus is the chapter in the Bible that requires a special type surgical procedure on new born baby boys. OUCH! I'm sure glad hillbillies aren't Levites.

There are lots of other stuff in Leviticus, good stuff like the Great Commandment of "Love one's neighbor as oneself". But there's a whole lot 'bout abominations there in Leviticus, them abominations, there're mostly 'bout food and sexual restrictions. Maybe that's why some still debate the number one and number two rankings. The good thing 'bout all that stuff in Leviticus is it's directed almost exclusively to the Israelites. I suppose that's why some of us Catholics think, glad it's their problem and not mine. While us hillbillies just thank God very day we weren’t born an Isreaelite.

Ya just gota think it's important, 'cause Leviticus shows up in both the Hebrew Bible and it makes the third of five books of the Torah.

Yesterday September 11th , such a sad day. Then some idiot in Florida wants to burn the holy book of the nuts of the world, and everybody gets more and more, just more and more polarized. I firmly believe the only thing that needs to be polarized in this life is bears.

From the East Wing, with Pup Baby Turning the Page, The Cat & The Polls, Newton’s Fig, Wayne & Apple, Eggs with a B, Sophia’s “F” Word, Idiot of The World, Polarized Bears.
I wish you well,
BobbyRay

From the East Wing, With Sophia On The Hot Seat, The Space Station, Blood Red Moon, Come September, Bud Lite or Miller, The 200 lb Goose of Southfork

2010-09-05T15:32:00.001-07:00

Greeting to all and welcome new friends to the East Wing.

And I thought the she missed me till Sophia found out I was home. That little girl cat came over, hopped up on my lap curled up and licked my hand. After ‘bout 5 minutes of purrs and smiles, jumped down ran to the cat house and came back with a list of all the things that ran amuck while I was away.

Not to my surprise, Spike headed the list. Sophia said Spike had been bad, had not listened to her and had even told the 2girldogs that she’s a democrat spy tying to infiltrate the republican partly by using her position as National Spokescat for the CCCA, as well as her other spokescat positions across the country. Spike had even threatened to deface her autographed picture of Herbert Hoover by peeing on it. She was so afraid that Spike would do damage to her stuff and to my stuff she had stayed awake most every hour I’d been gone. The 2girldogs were no help at all and had even helped Spike in some of the bad things he’d done. And she had a separate list of bad things the 2girldogs had done while I was away.

And then came Spike. Jumping up and down, so excited and mad he’s ‘bout to pee his pants, saying he didn’t do nothing wrong ever. It’s all Sophia’s fault. She’s been really bad. She tried to boss everybody around all the time I was gone. She wouldn’t take turns of being in charge like I said to do before I left. That he didn’t ever get to be in charge one time and Sophia bossed him around even when he didn’t need any bossing around by anybody ‘cause he was being a good boy cat. And Sophia drank from the big water bowl and not one time did she drink from the little water bowl like she’s supposed to. And Sophia bossed the 2girldogs around all the time too. And she even told the 2girldogs that if they didn’t do what she said, she’d scratch ‘em. And Sophia drank his half & half every time he got some from Regina. And Sophia sat in my chair even though I had said for nobody to sit in my chair. And Sophia had not used her computer one time while I was gone, she had used my computer every day and not hers. And Sophia had read all my email, and some of the email she had answered and signed my name.

I did notice that as Spike made his point by point case, Sophia got quitter and quitter. Just when I thought Sophia was going to say something more, Gray Lady James spoke up and said.

“Spike only knows ‘bout half the stuff Sophia’s done. Spike don’t know ‘bout Sophia telling Mustina that you said not to give Mustina a turn of being in charge, and Sophia was to take her turn. Spike don’t know ‘bout Sophia telling Mustina that Mustina was the only one you said to wash the water bowls every day. Spike don’t know ‘bout Sophia telling Mustina that you said Sophia could have all of Mustina’s treats for being such a good girl. Spike don’t know ‘bout Sophia telling Mustina that you said for Sophia to sleep on Mustina’s couch while you were gone.”

Things were not looking good for the cat as I turned toward Sophia. Gray Lady continued “Spike don’t know ‘bout Sophia telling Mustina that the new rules she made up was that change that President Obama had been promising a couple summers ago. I turned toward the cat.

“WHAT!!” She said. “Are you gona believe ‘em?” “The 2girldogs and Spike, they’re democrats. They’re all the same, that bunch, them, them democrats. They’re the same ones who told ya the stimulus would work and everybody would go back to work, and world would be better. The health care law would reduce health care cost, they’re the same bunch of democrats that hired a group of tax cheats to run the IRS and the rest of the government and they’re the ones who’ve appointed more czars than are in Russia on this very day. They’re the same ones who told ya change ya could believe in and look at what we got.”

“The 2girldogs and Spike, they’re part of that Washington crap that even Joe Donnelly don’t want to be associate with, and ya know Joe Donnelly’s a democrat, even when he don’t’ want to tell anybody in Indiana he is one , and you’re gona believe ‘en” “Ya gotta joking but remember that if ya believe the 2girldogs and Spike on this thing, then you’re by association, believing Charlie Rangel and that other Congress Woman from California that said she didn’t do nothing wrong either.” “Ya know them democrats, they got a track record on this sorta thing” “They try to kill the messenger when they can’t make the argument, Theses are the same ones who talk green and the only green they know is the green pond scum they slither in, those, those, those democrats ” said the cat as her green eyes twinkled, and oh, such a smile, that Sophia smile. Damn Republican Cat!

Did ya ever look at the Space Station at night? Yes, ya can see it from time to time. Go to the nasa.gov website, click on the shuttle / space station icon on the upper right side and follow the directions to input your precise data location. In the USA a zip is all ya need, but it’ll work anywhere in the world. It’s kinda cool to watch it go by. It goes too fast to put the telescope on it, but ya can catch it with binoculars if ya want. The really cool part is when the space station rises high enough in the sky to catch the light from the moon. It’s like Motel 6 leaving the light on for ya.

Had an email the other day from a fellow stargazer wanting to know if I used any mnemonic devices (little things that help ya remember stuff) to help me in remembering the names of celestial objects. Well DUH! How do ya think I remember all this stargazing stuff, what little I do know, without help of some kind, and the Lord knows I need all the help I can get. One of the best known astronomy mnemonics is "Arc to Arcturus, then drive a spike to Spica."

This is an easy one that most everybody can do. First begin by finding the Big Dipper, one of the sky’s most prominent asterisms (star patterns). Just ‘bout everybody can find the Big Dipper in the sky. Now if ya extend the arc formed by the Dipper’s handle, you'll soon find yourself at the bright star Arcturus, in the constellation Boötes.

From there, it’s a straight line to Spica, the brightest star in Virgo. And just that easy ya became a stargazer. Did ya see the color difference between yellowish Arcturus and blue-white Spica? Some people can actually see the difference just by looking, I never could, weak eyes I guess. Now looking through my telescope, well, that’s a star of a different color so to speak. My telescope brings a whole new meaning to “I saw the light”.

A few days ago I was asked if I’d ever seen a blood red moon? I’ve not, and would probably crap my pants if I did. That blood red moon things been ‘round for a long time. Remember hearing ‘bout that when I was a kid, I know there’s a quotation in the bible, actually it’s from Revelation (6:12-13): "And the sun became black as sackcloth of hair, and the moon became as blood; And the stars of heaven fell unto the earth, even as a fig tree casteth her untimely figs, when she is shaken of a mighty wind."

This is the only creditable reference to a blood red moon that I’m aware of to , but seems like I’ve read of some reference to a reddish hue in the center of the moon during a total eclipse. I’ve seen several total eclipses of the moon, and none of ‘em looked even the least bit reddish to me.

That Revelation stuff’s something else, and I don’t have a clue what any of it means. I some times read parts of Revelation and think somebody’s smoking and writing at the same time. Guess ya can tell by my writing, I'm not smoking the same stuff.

But now those TV Preachers, they sure want ya to believe they know all the answers to all the questions posed by the Book of Revelation. They don’t. They too are a joke, kinda like Bill Clinton trying to explain to we the people what “is” is. But I think Wild Bill has mellowed out somewhat ‘cause now he just tries to explain what “is” was.

WOW ! Labor Day Tomorrow, and there went summer in the minds of some folks. Not the case here in the East Wing, it’s summer till it’s fall, and if it gets hot, then it’s like summer. Talk ‘bout weather seasons, I got an email from a friend in Mississippi thanking me for telling the whole world ‘bout the beautiful change of seasons in Mississippi.

For someone who my have missed that, I said Mississippi seasons consist of “Almost Summer, Summer, Still Summer, Christmas. I was reminded that Christmas is the shortest season in Mississippi, and the other three seasons share the other 364 days equally. It was hot when I’s in Mississippi. Think I was there when it was Still Summer.

Such neat things happen in September, Labor Day, cooler weather, the official start of fall. This year it’s 9-22-2010 at 11:09PM, yah fall starts in the nighttime this year, that’s kinda cool. Now if ya ever wondered how come every four years we have an extra day in February, well a simple explanation is next year the start of fall is 9-23-11 at 5:15 AM, a difference of some 6 hours. Now if ya pick up say 6 hours ever year, after ‘bout 4 years ya have an extra day, ‘cause 6 times 4 equal 24 new hours and that’s how we stick February 29th in there every once in a while.

Another holiday that used to be a real biggie, we’re talking bigger than big, almost as big as Christmas is today. The forgotten holiday of the ages is Michaelmas.

The feast day of St. Michael, the archangel and overcomer of the Devil, is a Christian celebration based on the ancient Celtic calendar. Again like many church holidays, this too is rooted in pre-Christian activity. Its main importance in people's lives was that of a seasonal signpost in the year. In the British Isles, a long, long time ago crops were harvested and the surplus sold by late September, so this became the time when farmers would pay their yearly rents to landowners.

Everyone ate goose at Michaelmas to bring prosperity, and many farmers included "a goose fit for the lord's dinner" with their rent payments. Great market fairs occurred just before the feast day, and the large crowds these attracted made it convenient to hold elections at this time. They even had Republican Calico Cats back then too.

Michaelmas was also a "Quarter Day." These ancient Celtic people would divide the year into four major sections, or quarters, and then divided each of these in half to make an eight-part year that reflected the natural progression of the seasons. Foods traditional for Michaelmas include new wine; goose; cakes of oats, barley, and rye; and carrots. “bout the only ones who still retain any semblance to this old holiday are the Pennsylvania Dutch, out east, they’ve kept Michaelmas, or "Harvest Home," traditions alive amongst themselves.

Guess if ya really want to keep good holidays around for a long time, it needs to somehow be associated with Bud Lite or Miller, ‘cause they’ll supply free banners for the party. New wine, goose, oat cakes and carrots just don’t make it any more.

Maybe that’s what they’re talking ‘bout when somebody says “life was simple and easy back then”. I’m not sure if new wine and oat cakes beat Bud Lite or Miller, but I’m sure it don’t beat Makers Mark with a straw.

That reminds me that I only ate a goose one time. The only goose contact I ever had was on Southfork . Now Lou had several geese at Southfork, and one ole boy goose, well he just decided he was going to show me who was boss. That goose chased me all over the yard, damn near scared me to death, being six years old and being chased by what I’d swear was a 200 lb goose. I barely escaped with my life and made it inside the back door to safety of the kitchen, a mere half step in front of that renegade goose.

When Lou found out ‘bout that goose chasing me ‘round the yard, she promptly marched outside to confront my attacker. We had baked goose that night for supper and it wasn’t even a holiday or anything, we just had baked goose for supper. Now Lou and me, we never talked bout why she killed that goose, but I guess Lou just decided she couldn’t rehabilitate a goose gone wild.

Kinda funny that the ole goose never chased anybody ‘cept me, but what he didn’t know was that Lou was my Mother Goose. She looked out for me. And it was such stuff like that why Lou and I got along. Such a great Grandmother, I never once called her grandma, I called her Lou.

Stay safe in Afghanistan

From the East Wing, With Sophia On The Hot Seat, The Space Station, Blood Red Moon, Come September, Bud Lite or Miller, The 200 lb Goose of Southfork

I wish you well,
BobbyRay

From the Mobil East Wing, with Custer, Crazy Horse, Rushmore, Baby Bears, Hamburgers, and Deadwood

2010-08-29T16:40:00.000-07:00

Greeting to all, and welcome new friends to the East Wing.

As Johnny and I climbed back up into the Rocky Mountains from the Northern Utah valley town of Tremonton, I put the sun at our back and drove into the high desert of the West, all the while still amazed at the contrast of the terrain from Toto Indiana.

With Saturday being my turn to drive the wagon, less time was available to snap the pictures. But the utter lack of change of scenery meant if ya took a picture every 50 miles the scenery didn’t change. Stark mountains thousands of feet high in the distance seem to go on forever. A mountain range in the windshield field of view I estimated in my mind to be ‘bout 10 miles in front of me. An hour later, at 75 mph, I decide to change my estimate of how far the mountains are in front of me.

The destination for Saturday night was Rawlins WY ‘bout 360 miles in front of me right on Interstate 80 meant long, long stretches of unchanging landscape. On two different occasions I measured distances of 77 and 62 miles absolute dead straight road. Had it not been for a slight degree of arch in the road bed it could have been many miles more of nothing but nothing, straight ahead.

Ya know you’re in the high desert when the sign along the way says “no services next 110 miles”, and in the high desert the signs don’t try to fool ya, they try to save your life. My 2010 covered wagon had a few amenities not afforded our forefathers who crossed this most God forsaken land before me. The availability of options such as the rate of travel, (75 mph) air-conditioning or heat of summer, Johnny and me, well, we chose the air-conditionings, navigational aids, both direct GPS as well as Global Positioning Satellite Mapping direct to my laptop computer from outer space. I that cool or what? Directions so precise ya can’t get lost, even if ya want to, and lord knows that here in the desert Ya don’t want to get lost.

Passing through this desert land, mile after mile with an un changing landscape before me, my thoughts again turn to those who’ve come this way in the distant past. From the east they came, first small numbers of brave adventures, and later by the thousands. Not knowing what lay afore them, not knowing the difficulty of survival in a land without water, not having a clue on the difficulties of crossing the Rocky Mountains. Never dreaming of the combination of heat and altitude and what it could do to the human body in what someday would be Western Wyoming.

Yet they came, men, women and children, mostly walking, animals pulling wagons, horses, cows, goats, dogs. Whatever animals the family had made the trip with the family. I find it impossible to grasp the true difficulty of such a trip. The decision to start seems to be beyond my comprehension. The prospect of a better life for the family drove people west in this country.

After seeing with my own eyes the vastness of this great land from Indiana to Utah, I’ll forever have a different appreciation for those brave men and women who settled this land we all call home.

Late Saturday afternoon I drive into a place called Little America, ‘bout 200 miles or so west of Cheyenne WY. A pleasant surprise out here in the desert, that Little America. We ate supper in a most elegant restaurant at Little America. It was nighttime in the Rockies when we pulled into Rawlins Wyoming. After sunset the jackalopes roam in Wyoming, and we was ‘em roaming.

We’re up and running north early Sunday Morning when Johnny proposed breakfast at McDonalds, a choice we’d live to regret as this day went on. The desert heat came early that Sunday Morning, by 10 o’clock the inside thermometer showed the outside temperature 101°, while showing the inside temperature at 65°. With that being said ya can kinda appreciate our choice of opting to take the air-conditioning over the desert heat. An option not available when families walked into the west. Don’t know how far ya could walk in this heat, but I’m sure we traveled farther in one hour than the pioneers traveled in several days.

We’re on our way to Custer South Dakota this hot Sunday Morning when what was to become known as the “Curse of the Breakfast Burritos” reared its ugly head. Details of the Curse of the Breakfast Burritos aren’t necessary or pleasant, suffice it to say, McDonalds’ Breakfast Burritos are not recommended by me or Johnny when ya drive north from Rawlings WY on as Sunday Morning when the temperature says 101°

After leaving Laramie WY a few days back without a full tank of gas, Johnny and I have a new appreciation for those signs along the way that identifies not services, so every time we move from place to place, we make sure the tank is full. And this hot Sunday Morning was no different. Full tanks were needed tracking north from Rawlins WY to Custer SD.

On the way we’re deciding where to have lunch, Johnny proposes one town, I propose the next one just 12 miles up the road according to my laptop computer . Johnny keeps on driving. We’re now off the interstate driving a two lane road which we’ve not seen in our lives. But the next towns sounds nice, so we’re looking forward to stopping for lunch. In a few short minutes we are within site of the sign for the town.

The only disappointment in the whole trip was not stopping and taking a picture of that town’s sign. It read: LOST SPRINGS WY, POPULATION 1 It’s hard to take a picture when you’re laughing at a road sign. And lunch, it was the next town up the road, an hour away, 75 miles in a place called Lusk WY. Shortly after Lusk WY we enter the extreme western edge of South Dakota. Still in the high plains desert of southwestern South Dakota.

An amazing transformation occurred right before our eyes as we drove northeast into South Dakota. Within 40 miles of entering South Dakota, the world started to turn green. At first just a hint of green. Not having seen green in so long, I thought it was a mirage, but soon a few green pine trees started to dot the hillsides, and before ya knew it the world turned green.

An interesting conversation ensued between Johnny and me ‘bout missing the green. After sending a few days in the Rocky Mountains with what seemed an absolute void of anything green unless covered by a center pivot irrigation system, we both agreed that seeing green vegetation of whatever source just made ya feel better. I guess ya can take the hillbilly out of Indiana, but ya can’t take the green out of the hillbilly. Green is good.

Arriving in Custer SD early mid afternoon afforded us the opportunity to visit the Crazy Horse Memorial Mountain before the sun went down. Just six miles or so out of Custer is the Crazy Horse Memorial. A mountain carving of such giant dominations it’s hard to imagine. The amount of material that has been removed from the mountain so far measures many hundreds of millions of tons, and the sculpture is far for being completed.

History lessons are to be learned at Crazy Horse Mountain. Sad history of the Lakota People, Shameful history of the white man. Back in the day when we somehow thought Indians were something less than human, something to be disposed of and no more than any other lower life form. The human tragic events at Wounded Knee speaks volumes as to how the American Indians were treated in South Dakota.

After Mount Rushmore was created as a memorial to the great men in history, the Lakota Elders decided it would be fitting and proper that the world know the Lakota People too have great leaders of their people. And so it was decided by the Lakota Elders that a monument be created of Crazy Horse. A sculptor was selected, a man who was destined to spend the rest of his life on carving the mountain.

The work continues to this day long after the original sculptor died. His wife, along with 7 of this 9 children continue the quest to complete the dream. The dream of the Lakota People, a monument to a leader of people, Crazy Horse, the Warrior Chief.

In the 5th grade I remember reading an article in the “Weekly Reader” ‘bout the Crazy Horse Memorial Mountain project. It was right then and there hat I decided I’d go see that mountain some day. It took a while to get there, but on Sunday, August 22nd 2010 at 6:15 PM nothing stood between me and Crazy Horse Mountain except the clean blue sky of South Dakota. I had come to the mountain.

With a tears in my eyes, I looked at the finished face of Crazy Horse. To give ya some idea of the enormous size of this monument, the face of Crazy Horse is 22 stories tall. On his out stretched right arm, ya could lay the Washington Monument on its side. All the carvings on Mount Rushmore would fit in the hair behind the face of Crazy Horse. And ya gotta keep in mind that Crazy Horse is setting on a horse. Big monument, that Crazy Horse Mountain. For my model building friends, to give ya some perspective of the size of Crazy Horse Mountain. The original sculptor made a model of the actual work in 1/34th scale. In this scale, the model stands 16 foot tall, do the math. Big rock carving.

An interesting fact ‘bout the Crazy Horse Monument is, unlike Mount Rushmore, Crazy Horse is being built WITHOUT, I repeat, WITHOUT government funding. When was the last time ya ever heard of anything major not being funded by the government? Seems the original sculptor had a distrust for the promises made by the federal government and he didn’t want the government determining what the outcome of the mountain would be. So he refused when offered funding by the National Park Service. In light of the promises made to the Lakota People by past governments, it seems the decision not to accept federal funding was the right way to go.

With the Crazy Horse Project is being funded 100% by private donations, we done my part, Johnny and me. We each bought a piece of the mountain, a chunk of rock blasted from the mountain, and mine destined to forever sit in the East Wing amongst the other important stuff in my life. Things like my pooping moose, the pop bottle collection, the Family of Howard Dolls, my pink flamingos, the my ceramic chickens, the books, computers, stargazing equipment, and the list goes on and on, my important stuff. Sure hope I got room for the Crazy Horse Mountain Rock. I may split my rock and give half to the she if I don’t have room.

Spending time at Crazy Horse Mountain was truly a dream come true for me. Johnny on the other hand was looking more forward to visiting Mount Rushmore. Not that he didn’t enjoy Crazy Horse Mountain, he just hadn’t been waiting since he was in the 5th grade like I had.

Monday morning we ate breakfast at the Cowboy Café in Cluster South Dakota. Bout as cowboy as ya can get and still not have to get on a horse. I sat with the real cowboys and said cowboy stuff like Buckaroo, doggie and Yep and nope, while trying to sound like John Wayne. Ya know how to tell real cowboys? They got dirty hats. Don’t think anybody mistook me for John Wayne probably ‘cause I didn’t have any boots, or dirty hat. John Wayne always wore boots and dirty hats. At least the John Wayne’s I saw. And then we went to Mount Rushmore.

Truly a moving experience, the first site of Mount Rushmore. Seeing something live that ya have know about all your life is kinda neat. The movie there at Mount Rushmore is really interesting to watch. It tells the history of how the monument was carved, of the men who worked the mountain. In pictures and words the displays at Mount Rushmore demonstrate the importance of the men whose faces are reflected in the stone. Pictures speak louder than words so we took lots of pictures, and Mount Rushmore is among the lot.

There’s a place up there in South Dakota, a place called Bear Country USA. A tourist trap for sure, and Johnny and I fell into the trap, and are so glad we did. One of the most fun places ever, Bear Country USA. It’s an open zoo. Many different animals such as mountain goats, big horn sheep, mountain lions, skunks, lynx, deer and antelope playing. And the bears, my o my did they have the bears, hence the name, Bear County USA. Bears and bears every where ya looked. Walking all over the place. Running bears, playing bears, fighting bears, sleeping bears. But he fun part of Bear Country USA was watching the baby bears.

There were maybe two dozen or so baby bears in an area ‘bout 4 acres. These baby bears acted much the same as a dozen little boys and girls on the playground. Ya could just tell the little boys, rolling ‘round fighting each other, weaseling and chasing one and other. Climbing trees at an amazing speed. Four baby bears up the same tree is a site to behold. The baby girl bears, ya could tell them too. ‘Cause every once in a while they’d just go over and slap the baby boy bears. Baby Bears, sugar and spice and everything nice, hammer and nails and puppy dog tails, that what’s little bears are made of. I think babies of the world are all the same.

After visiting the bears we headed for Deadwood South Dakota. it being mid Monday afternoon and Johnny was hungry so we stopped at a little roadside restaurant that advertised “Best Burger in The Hills” The Black Hills that is. The restaurant was no larger than a trailer, 12’ wide tops, but after eating the hamburger and talking to the cook, Johnny and I told her the advertising sign outside didn’t do the hamburger justice. And with the best hamburger in the hills eaten and enjoyed, we trucked toward Deadwood.

The very first thing we done in Deadwood was visit the grave of Wild Bill Hickok. Paid a dollar a head to get in to a cemetery. Never thought I’d pay to get into a cemetery, but I did, actually Johnny did and I snuck in with him, or maybe he paid two dollars. Either way, before ya knew it we were walking up hill, really up hill, looking for Wild Bill’s grave. We didn’t have to look too hard, ‘cause for Johnny’s two dollars they gave him a map of the cemetery. The two most popular grave sites in the cemetery are Wild Bill Hickok and Calamity Jane. Side by side, it was said that when Calamity Jane lay dying, she said lay me by Wild Bill, ‘cause he’s been there before.

Now Calamity Jane was, among other things, a lady of the night so when they buried her four gargoyles were placed one on each corner of the grave. The gargoyles used to ward off spirits from the deceased past. One time when a highly recognized madam passed away, rather than identifying her real profession in the Deadwood Newspaper, her occupation was listed as “local social worker” Some people think we could still use more local social workers.

Wild Bill Hickok shot dead in the back of the head while setting at a card game while holding a five card poker hand consisting of two pairs, aces and eights and a nine card. To this very day such hand is know in poker circles as the dead man’s hand.

After the graveyard visit, we made it toward the Number 10 Saloon in downtown Deadwood, determined to have a drink at the bar. Johnny had Rye Whisky and I once again had that Rot Gut Makers Mark with a straw.

The # 10 saloon was so named ‘cause at the time, there were so many saloons in Deadwood, it was more practical to just assign numbers rather than names, cause they were lined up anyway.

Monday evening was spent at Cadillac Jacks, and a good time was had by all. Tuesday morning, not so bright and not so early, Johnny and I started home. Wednesday evening we got there.

Like Dorothy said, “there’s no place like home”

Stay safe in Afghanistan

From the Mobil East Wing Custer, Crazy Horse, Rushmore, Baby Bears, Hamburgers and Deadwood.

I Wish You Well
BobbyRay

From the East Wing with,A Garden Lost,The Fog of August,Snake Doctors,Sophia on The O’Reilly Factor

2010-08-15T15:58:00.000-07:00

Greetings to all, and welcome new friends to the East Wing.

Even notice how we seldom ever think ‘bout the real important things in life. Don’t know ‘bout you, but I sure don’t. That changed a lot last week. A friend of mine, not only a friend of mind but also a relative, and being hillbilly, those two, friends and relative, don’t always go together, stopped by my office for a visit.

Seems he came for a couple reasons, one to check on my health and well being,‘cause he heard I’d been ill, and had been diagnosed as a diabetic, and he wanted to instill in my mind the importance of taking care of my self while managing my diabetes.

The second reason for the visit to my office was to apologize for being unable, this summer, to provide me with fresh garden vegetables of corn, beans, tomatoes, potatoes, etc. like he’d been doing for many years. With the apologizes made, it was the next spoken words that forever burned into my memory when my friend, and my cousin said, “ya just can’t garden with one hand. I tried, Lord knows I tried”.

Standing before me, a man in his mid seventies with one functional arm, the left. A man who like most all of us, had spent his entire life living right handed. A stroke victim, several months back, who awoke from a long coma one day without memory of his own name. A person who awoke to a world without the use of his right hand, his whole arm paralyzed. His world changed forever in the blink of an eye.

My cousin, several years older than me, a man that could present a rather intimidating figure on the streets of downtown North Judson in a different time, and in what now seems like a different place. There was never a Dalton Gang in North Judson, but back in the day, there was the Howard Boys. Not bank robbers, those Howard Boys, but there were certain things ya just didn’t do to the Howard Boys, like tug on Superman’s Cape.

As childhood memories filled my mind, I looked into the eyes of 75 years of living and realized how important the real things in life really are. How important health and body are above everything else in life, and how we tend to never give such thoughts a chance to creep into the sunshine of our mind.

A friend of mine who came by to check on my health and wish me well, and with a simple statement changed the way I’ll forever look at life. “Ya can’t garden with one hand. I tried. Lord knows I tried”. And so he had.

One of the important things ya gotta watch for in August is the first heavy fog in the morning. The reason is ‘cause that’s gona be a hard frost on the same day in October. Now this fog and frost deal is like that cricket telling ya the temperature last week, don’t know why it works, it just does most every year. And much like the cricket and temperature, don’t spend too much time trying to figure out why on the fog / frost thing.

Before I start getting emails from Alabama telling me they don’t get hard frost in October, or somebody from Cape Town telling me I'm crazy, I'm talking ‘bout the cold country of Indiana not your part of God’s Country. Last year I received an invitation to visit South Africa. This year the invitation was again extended. I again declined as the bridge’s not yet completed. I’m not sure if that’s gona be a toll bridge or not, to South Africa. But I told ‘em I’d be right over soon as the bridge is finished, that I’d let ‘em know before I started out so they’d be looking for me, and could leave the light on.

Now if ya like August, ya like hot. I love August. But I like air conditioning as much as hot. My office is too cold by some people, but It has to be, ‘cause my two office cats wear full length fur coats. I think I told ya ‘bout the office cats, Miss Kitty and Little Brother. The black & whites of downtown North Judson. I gotta keep ‘em cool. Did ya ever try to live with two mad cats? Sophia’s bad enough and she’s not even mad, some times.

Did ya know that ants won’t cross a thick chalk line. So if ya go to an outside picnic and take a pie along, draw a chalk circle around the pie to keep the ants away. When I was a kid in Downtown Toto, I always carried a piece of chalk in my pocket just in case I ran across an ant walking on something I could draw a quick circle on so I could watch the ant try to get out of jail. I don’t think I ever left an ant inside the circle, when done watching, I’d always open the door with my finger. Oh, I almost forgot, that chalk line don’t keep little hillbilly boys away from pies. One time at a family reunion I know some little hillbilly boys that took a whole pie, chocolate it was, and two spoons and didn’t even give that chalk circle a thought. We, no, they took a quart of milk too.

As the Dog Days of Summer 2010 bark to a close, the 2girldogs are making the most of season. Sleeping in and doing nothing all day long is the norm for the 2girldogs. The Bentley dog is too young and too hyper to fully enjoy the Dog Days of Summer. But he’ll learn, he’s still young, and ya know that stuff ‘bout teaching young dog new tricks.

Sure hope ya saw the Perseid Meteor Shower last week on the 12th. It was a perfect moonless condition to look at meteors, and there were lots to see, I estimated seeing 50-75 per hour. An extra treat that night was seeing Mars, Saturn and Venus in a tight clump when ya looks to the south and just a little to the east. If ya had a good clear view ya maybe even could see Mercury really low on the south horizon, but ya had to have a long clear view to see Mercury.

I couldn’t see Mercury from the East Wing, so I drove 4 miles to the west to see if there was a better vantage point. There was. Ya seldom see four planets that close together in the sky. It was worth the trip. I love to stargaze. Sometimes just use the high power binoculars and just look at stuff, always wondering if somebody’s out there with high power binoculars looking toward me wondering if somebody’s out there with high power binoculars wondering…….. I just do.

Just one of the many simple pleasures of summer is the amount of aromatic herbs available. Fresh herbs are as far away from dried as hot is from cold, it’s truly like day and night, they’re just not the same.

Now the she would always pick Basil as her favorite ‘cause it always goes in the tomato sauce for the spaghetti, and she always picks pasta as her favorite food. I too like Basil, but not like the she. I too like tomatoes, but not so much in tomato sauce. More so as light bread with bologna, tomato and mayonnaise. Now for those folks who’s never eaten a bologna sandwich with tomato and mayonnaise, its your loss, I feel sorry for ya, and for everybody else, that’s what I'm talking ‘bout.

Not only do our garden herbs this time of the year liven up our meals, they also bring some other side benefits that are often over looked by many people. Such as drinking tomato juice with fresh basil to ease a headache.

I think Oregano is second only to Basil for the she, it too goes into the tomato sauce. It’s also used for scorpion bites, so far we’ve not had to use that part of the Oregano Plant, just the spaghetti sauce part.

One of my favorites in the herb family is Dill. I like Dill. Know what Dill and Fennel have in common? Well don’t feel bad not too many people do now days. But some time back everybody knew what those two had in common. As a matter of fact, back then not knowing what Dill and Fennel had in common caused nothing but heartaches. Nothing but heartaches.

One of the key pieces of damming evidence in the Salem Witch Trials was the lack of Dill and Fennel in every garden of every woman on trial. In fact this was the major supporting pieces of evidence in addition to the reliable eye witness testimony. None of the accused had either Dill or Fennel growing in their garden. Back then everybody knew that Dill and Fennel kept witches away, and it always worked.

No wonder they didn’t plant Dill or Fennel, those witches. Those convicted witches. They’d been better off to plant just a little bit at the very edge of the garden. I don’t think a little bit would keep witches away, just slow ‘em down a little bit. Maybe they were afraid even a little bit would make ‘em fall off their brooms.

There was a time during the Roman Empire that Anise was used to pay taxes. Sophia, setting on the back of my chair, reading as I talk with my fingers, just whispered into my ear “by the time we get rid of Obama, Harry Reid and Pelosi, we’ll all be paying taxes again with Anise”. Damn Republican Cat.

Another favorite of the She is Garlic. That’s her Italian thing. I think it ya went to a true Italian Store, you’d find Garlic Ice Cream. I guess the Greeks are big on garlic too. Seems I read some where ‘bout Aristotle making reference to garlic being used to ward off the fear of water. That maybe could be the reason I never learned to swim, never ate garlic.

Do ya have a favorite summer creature, the things ya can see in the sunshine? I do and it’s the dragonfly. Now if ya look at this little feller real close you’ll be amazed. Talk ‘bout a complex machine. I’ve watched dragonflies most all my life. They don’t sting, don’t hurt ya in any way. But watch ‘em for a while and you’ll too become a dragonfly fan.

Lou told me ‘bout dragonflies at Southfork. Told me ‘bout ‘em being able to fly in six directions. The only creature to be able to fly in six directions. Up, down, left, right, forward, backward. Now that little brown eyed friend of my, my hummingbird can’t even do that. It’s that left, right part that gets the hummingbird, they seem to be able to move left, right but if ya look close, they change altitude to move left or right, very slight altitude change but not true left, right without altitude change like the dragonfly.

I watched a dragonfly for ‘bout 10 minutes or so last week, tried to get him to land on my arm, no deal. I don’t think he liked me, ‘cause I couldn’t get within two foot of him. But he was pretty cool to watch.

Lou called the dragonflies “Snake Doctors” ‘cause the mountain people thought they followed snakes around and if the snake got hurt the dragonfly would take care of ‘em. Glad I’m not a Snake Doctor, I’d be a bad one. I’d let ‘em die, I don’t like spiders and snakes.

After the President took a position on building the mosque at ground zero contrary to the view of 70% of the American People, Sophia tells me that she once again supports the President on this issue. And just as soon as hell freezes over she will, as national spokescat for the CCCA, (Conservative Calico Cats of America) recommend that the membership support the President on this matter, and turn a blind eye to the will of the people.

One of the enjoyable things about living with Sophia is watching her ability to reach a compromise among different peoples with opposing points of view. Sophia is offering another alternative condition in which she could support the President. She told me “when I can put a litter box in every mosque in Mecca, I’ll go on the FoxNews Channel to try to convince Sean Hannity and Bill O'Reilly to support our President”. The cat smile lit up the room, as the green eyes sparkled. Pretty cat, Sophia.

Like I said before, Sophia is so good at bringing people with different points of view into the harmony of full love and fellowship, I sometimes think she should have been a Baptist Preacher. She still may, when she gets out of politics and answers a higher calling, something even above the CCCA. I think Sophia would make a good Television Preacher. I’m not sure we could handle the gospel according to Sophia.

An interesting observation on the need for the President’s people to clarify his remarks on the mosque thing. The very next day a press release said Oh no, the President didn’t mean THAT MOSQUE, he just meant any mosque and he’s sticking up for freedom of religion as required by the constitution, not supporting THAT MOSQUE.

Given that position, I wonder why earlier this year the President canceled the National Day of Prayer Service at the White House, and last Friday had a dinner to celebrate the start of the Muslim holy month of Ramadan, where he laid his mosque support speech on ‘em.

I wonder why the President didn’t have a State Dinner to celebrate the start of Lent on Ash Wednesday? Or why he didn’t go to Nashville to celebrate the start of the annual Southern Baptist Convention. Why would the current President Of the United States write in a book some years back “I will stand with the Muslims should the political winds shift in an ugly direction”. I wonder what an ugly direction is, are we now looking in an ugly direction? It’s just stuff like that, that makes ya wonder, sure makes me wonder.

If ya think hummingbirds are small, did ya ever see their babies? There are now two baby hummingbirds at the feeder all day long, one or the other, and most of the time both. Little things, not much taller than a paper clip, but they sure fly good.

For you “Smokey and The Bandit” fans, when I see a baby hummingbird with his father, they remind me of Big Ennis and Little Ennis Burdett.

Stay safe in Afghanistan.

From the East Wing with,A Garden Lost,The Fog of August,Snake Doctors,Sophia on The O’Reilly Factor

I wish you well,
BobbyRay

From the East Wing, Sophia’s Emails, Mississippi Lessons, Stargazing Talk, Crickets & Mayonnaise Jars

2010-08-08T15:34:00.001-07:00

Greetings to all, and welcome new friends to the East Wing.

And I thought Sophia had a following before last week’s fiasco. But truly didn’t have a clue as to how large. I now do. The email response to Sophia flip-flopping in her political views was almost overwhelming. That little episode with Sophia going to the democrats produced more email than any thing from the East Wing to date. The cat has a following to say the least.

Not sure what caused such a response, but something flipped the switch, and the emails rolled. Almost had to get help answering the mail last week, offered a temp job to Spike, but it turns out he’s off on sick leave. I didn’t even know he had a job, much less sick leave. Spike told me ya don’t have to have a job any more to get sick leave, that’s part of the new health care program, ya just have to be democrat, and wanta be on sick leave. So he did.

The 2girlsdogs wanted to help me answer the emails but were afraid they’d mess up their unemployment status. They’re drawing from the Presidents new unemployment program. It turns out that they too don’t have to have had a job, just be a democrat and want to draw unemployment. What a country! When asked to help, Sophia said she’s doing her nails and besides she don’t do emails. So I done it the old fashion way, by myself.

With Sophia using a sizable amount of postage with her involvement with being the National Spokescat for several rather conservative organizations last week after replenishing her postage supply on line went into a tirade on the upcoming postal increase.

Sophia said “do you know why you’re ‘bout to get covered up with email”. ‘Cause if ya do, that’s just another example of why the Post Office is having to raise the price of stamps. We don’t use the post office as much as we used to, so everybody has to pay more for using it less. WOW ! That’s such a novel idea, paying more for using less. That truly must be our government in action. I can always tell when Sophia is starting a roll, her Calico Coat starts to glisten as she struts her stuff.

She went from the post office to health care without missing a beat. “This is the very basic rational thought process used to construct the Federal Health Care Program. Just like the Post Office, it only stands to reason the if we’re gona pay more for postage ‘cause we’re using less, then if we used more the cost would go down. Applying that same logic to health care, I can now see why it was necessary to create this massive federal health care program.”

“The only way to get health care costs down it to provide service to 40 million more people and sure as shooting watch the health care costs drop right to the bottom of the bucket. Especially if these 40 million or so don’t have any money to pay for the service to begin with.”

“ Why, it’s such a brilliant plan, no wonder the people had such an overwhelming support for this thing last summer. it won’t surprise me at all if within 3 or 4 years going to the doctor will cost less than going to McDonalds. It’s good solid thinking on the part of us democrats that’ll keep the republican opposition on the sidelines for many years to come.”

After listening to her goings on ‘bout the post office and health care all at the same time, and seeing that little Sophia smile when she used to be a republican, I’m not sure ‘bout her using the term “us democrats”. The green eyes defiantly now do twinkle when she says “us democrats”. Damn Republican Cat.

Every once in a while something comes along in my email that’s just too good not to share. The little story below is one such example. It comes from Meridian Mississippi, and is purported to be a true story. Having been to Meridian Mississippi and met some of the people of Meridian, I can just see this story playing out in the old South.

Meridian Mississippi, a hundred and fifty or so miles southwest of Birmingham, Alabama. Out there along the way on Interstate 20. Where the magnolias grow and the Spanish Moss hangs heavy in the Live Oak Trees. Where the four seasons have different names, they are Almost Summer, Summer, Still Summer, Christmas. Where the temperature and humidity are usually the same number up till ‘bout Christmas. Meridian Mississippi, a pretty town, with gentle people, way down yonder in that land of cotton. But don’t make ‘em mad, down there in Meridian Mississippi.

##0##

An old man from Meridian, Mississippi, was going upstairs to bed when his wife told him that he'd left the light on in the garden shed, ‘cause she could see from the bedroom window. He+ opened the back door to go turn off the light, but saw that there were people in the shed who were stealing his stuff.

He called the police, who asked, "Is someone in your house?" He said "No, not in the house, but some people broke into my garden shed and are stealing from me". The police dispatcher said "All patrols are busy. You should lock your doors and an officer will be there when one is available ....."

The man said, "Okay." He hung up the phone and slowly counted to 30. Then he phoned the police again.
"Hello, I called you a few seconds ago because there were people stealing stuff from my shed. You don't have to worry about ‘em now, ‘cause I just shot and killed ‘em both. The dogs are eating on ‘em right now," and he hung up.

Within five minutes, 6 police cars, a SWAT team, a helicopter, 2 fire trucks, a paramedic, and an ambulance showed up at his residence and caught the burglars red-handed. One of the policemen said, "I thought you said that you'd shot them!" The old man said, "I thought you said there was nobody available!"
##0##

A true Mississippi Lesson well learned, don’t mess with old people in Dixieland.

Did ya know that August used to be called Weodmonath (weed month). If you haven’t been weeding your garden all along, now’s the time to jump in and get ‘er done!

Now for my stargazing buddies, remember that on a clear night ‘bout August 15th put a blanket on the grass, lie down and look up to see Jupiter as a sparkling magnitude -2.8. Now for my non stargazer friends, just spread out the blanket and lay down and look up, you’ll know what I’m talking ‘bout.

But for those who jump on me for not talking “stargazing talk”, here ya go. Magnitude is the degree of brightness of a celestial body designated on a numerical scale, with the brightest star a magnitude -1.4 and the faintest visible star a magnitude 6, with the scale rule such that a decrease of one unit represents an increase in apparent brightness by a factor of 2.512. Also called apparent magnitude.

Which brings up a whole set of other questions like what the %$^&$# is absolute magnitude? (now ya know why I don’t talk stargazing a lot) but oh well, here we go again.

There are two specific types of magnitudes distinguished by astronomers, they are Apparent magnitude, the apparent brightness of an object. For example, Alpha Centauri has higher apparent magnitude (i.e. lower value) than Betelgeuse, because it is much closer to the Earth.

Absolute magnitude, which measures the luminosity of an object (or reflected light for non-luminous objects like asteroids); it is the object's apparent magnitude as seen from certain location. For stars it is 10 parsecs (32.6 light years). Betelgeuse has much higher absolute magnitude than Alpha Centauri, because it is much more luminous. Usually only apparent magnitude is mentioned, because it can be measured directly. Absolute magnitude can be derived from apparent magnitude and distance using the distance modulus.

Now I’m not even gona talk ‘bout that distance modulus thing, ‘cause it just gets into other stuff and it can go on and on what seem like for ever. I never got too hung up on that stargazing talk. I think it’s kinda like talking and spelling. I learned to talk before I learned to spell. Now some folks point out that I don’t spell too well from time to time.

Stargazing’s much the same way, what’s more fun talking ‘bout it, or looking at it. For those who would say, “talking ‘bout it”, I would propose ya haven’t seen the rings of Saturn up close, or the red dust on Mars or even what lays outside the Milky Way. It just seems to me looking at it's more fun than talking 'bout it. But ya wanta know something kinda cool, I knew ‘bout that parsecs stuff before it was ever spoken in the STAR WARS Movie. But I didn’t know ‘bout the force before STAR WARS.

The middle of August starts little subtle changes to the East Wing, cooler nights, a shift in the quality of light, both day and night, cleaner nights. And the sound of crickets replacing those other sounds in the night. Those little creatures that ya never see, just hear. The sounds of summer nights. Those sounds.

They start out with the Peeps of Springtime and ends with the crickets, with a lot of other little fellers thrown in there in the heat of summer. August bring an abundance of flying things at night. Just turn on an outside light at night and look after a few minutes, 1,000 new friends came to visit.

The nighttime sounds of summertime, ya gotta love it. Now if ya really want to have fun on a summer night, to out in the nighttime and find those little creatures making those sounds, you'll be amazed at what you'll find. Now if you’re gona look at these little fellers this year, ya better get on it, they’ll be gone soon. But they'll be back when it’s springtime in the Valley.

Did you know that you can tell the temperature by listening to a cricket? Yeah, ya can, it’s the darnest thing, but it works. Now to convert cricket chirps to degrees Fahrenheit, count number of chirps in 14 seconds then add 40 to get temperature. An example is 30 chirps + 40 = 70° F

Now for many of the folks who visit the East Wing and don’t use the Fahrenheit system, it turns out the crickets chirp in Celsius too. To convert cricket chirps to degrees Celsius, count number of chirps in 25 seconds, divide by 3, then add 4 to get Celsius Temperature. An example is 48 chirps /(divided by) 3 + 4 = 20° C

I don’t have a clue why this works, it just does. My only guess is the crickets carry around both a Fahrenheit and Celsius thermometer and work out the details as need be. Remember a few week ago, we’re talking ‘bout stuff that ya don’t spend a lot of time wondering why, well, the cricket temperature deal is just one of ‘em.

Have you ever considered having a chirping cricket for a pet? Think ‘bout it, how many people do ya know that’s got a pet cricket? A shinny little black feller with brown wings, they’re just lots of fun. The don’t eat much, don’t mess much and ya never worry ‘bout taking care of ‘em long term, ‘cause they don’t live a long time. Oh, by the way, they’re not green like Jimminy Cricket, they’re all just black with brown wings, both boys and girls.

The girls are a lot bigger than the boys. Like half again as big. A boy cricket is ‘bout 1” and a girl cricket is 1 ½” Big girls for sure. Boy crickets are the only ones who sing, guess they’re looking for those big girlfriends.

Another little neat thing ‘bout crickets, they can eat and sing at the same time. Is that cool or what? Like all the things that makes sound of summer, crickets are cold blooded little creatures and as such they sing depending on how hot they are. I think I know some boys who sing depending on how hot they are too.

Now if you’re gona get a pet cricket, ya gotta have a place for him to live. When I had pet crickets, I always used mayonnaise jars, I think it was Kraft Mayonnaise Jars, they always made better cricket houses, those Kraft Mayonnaise Jars, but ya gotta take the label off if ya want to see the cricket really good, and don’t forget to punch holes in the lid else you’ll have dead crickets.

Ya gotta put stuff in the jar for the cricket to live with, dirt and something to set on like a stick or a piece of bark or a leaf. Ye can’t just expect your cricket to sit on dirt his whole life. I always put two things in my mayonnaise jar for my cricket to set on.

Ya don’t have to go to Pet Mart to get your cricket, chances are it’ll come to you. By the middle of August these little fellers are starting to look for warmer housing and sure as shooting they'll come in you house whether ya want ‘em or not.

Once ya get ‘em in the Mayonnaise House ya gotta feed ‘em. Crickets eat just ‘bout anything vegetable. I used to feed my crickets cornflakes, oats, birdseed, and lettuce. It’s real important that your cricket has water, cause they’ll sure die without water. Ya need to feed and water your cricket every day. I think I used pop bottle cap for the cricket watering trough. It was a Pepsi cap, made of steel with a little round piece of cork glued inside the cap. The outside edge of that Pepsi Lid looked like the outside edge of homemade pies. A neat way to get water in the cricket house, use a straw. Suck it up, put your finger on it, and put some in the watering lid.

The sad part is, a cricket’s life is very short. If ya get a good cricket in August or September, he should last till somewhere ‘bout Thanksgiving. You’ll know when you’re done with that cricket, ‘cause they don’t sleep upside down.

Then when that time comes, if ya want me to preach that cricket’s funeral, I‘d be most proud. I’ve never preached a cricket funeral before, but I think I could. ‘Cause the crickets, they’re mostly Baptist, and that’s the kinda funerals I've preached the most. But I did preach a funeral for a Jewish Frog one time, that was most interesting, the other Jewish Frogs in attendance at that funeral, they ribbited in Yiddish.

Stay safe in Afghanistan.

From the East Wing, Sophia’s Emails, Mississippi Lessons, Stargazing Talk, Crickets & Mayonnaise Jars

I wish you well,
BobbyRay

From the East Wing, Sophia’s Apologies, Gule of August, Garlic & WD40

2010-08-01T15:12:00.001-07:00

Greetings to all, and welcome new friends to the East Wing.

A most amazing transformation has taken place at the East Wing. It defies logic, it’s beyond description. It goes against all that has been said and done in the East Wing. Such things have to be seen to be believed. It’s proof that miracles do still exist. Sophia has seen the fallacy of her political thinking and will spend the rest of her days trying to atone for the error of her ways.

Early last Monday morning, out of nowhere Sophia came to me said she’s rethinking her involvement with the CCCCC (California Calico Conservative Cat Conformance), NCCOA (National Conservative Calico Cats Of America) as well as the NRCCA (National Republican Calico Cats of America) , and the NTCA (National Tea Cat Association). She tells me that she'll take some time to reflect on her thoughts and actions of the past several years and come to some kinda conclusion by the end of the week as to how best go forward into her future.

All day Monday Sophia was down in the dumps. So down in the dumps, she even refused homemade mouse and gravy for supper, and ya gotta keep in mind, I make really good mouse & gravy, my secret is in the mouse. The cat was low, really, really low. Never saw a cat so down in the dumps.

Sophia didn’t smile. Nothing I could do or say could brighten up her day. It was as if a dark rain cloud floated overhead wherever she went. Sophia was having a dark and gloomy day, and it showed in her eyes. Those beautiful green cat eyes were now eyes of a different color. Blue eyes crying in the rain.

That evening, as I was getting ready to tuck her in for the night, inside the Cat House, ( yes I still tuck Sophia in every night in the Cat House, so don't laugh this is serous stuff) she asked for one favor. With Sophia having such a down and dreary day, I said anything I could do, I would. Sophia told me how embarrassed she was to think of all the bad things she had said about the President, and all his men. How her venomous words had pierced the very heart and sole of so many good people for whom she could apologize never enough. Sophia hung her head in shame. I had never seen a cat cry.

Sophia expressed regret that she could never look the Sunday Evening visitors to the East Wing in the eye again knowing how bad she had sinned. Sophia said it hurt too much to speak of such things, but she had to get her message out to one and all, so that the world could see the change in her life. The cat asked me to help with that mission. Sophia wanted my assurances that I would send her printed apologies from the East Wing. And so I agreed.

As I tucked Sophia in bed that Monday Night, I assured her whatever she put to paper would be sent from the East Wing. As I stopped at the door of the Cat House to turn out the lamp setting on the corner of her dresser, right next to her autographed picture of Hubert Hoover, I looked back as Sophia, and for the first time that day I saw that beautiful Sophia smile, and, just as the light went out, I’d swear I saw a twinkle from those green cat eyes.

All day Tuesday and Wednesday and most of Thursday, Sophia sat in front of her computer, composing or her word processor. The cat was putting her heart and soul into the chosen words. Early Friday Morning, just as I was leaving for work, Sophia brought the following message. The message I’d given my word to pass on to you. And so I present to you Sophia’s apologies.

##0##

It has taken all this time for me to realize that my views on certain aspects of my political beliefs in general and more specifically on the current administration have been in error. For that I want to set the record straight. This will serve as a one time document to clear any misconceptions about my loyalty to our President Barack Obama.

Our President is to be congratulated for his many accomplishments. His ability to set records is unsurpassed. He has set more first time records than any other President in the history of this nation. Those records include, but are not limited to the most broken promises ever, the largest deficit ever, the most use of teleprompters ever, the largest number of self serving speeches by a President, and the fastest decline in popularity. He won the Nobel Peace Prize in the fastest time of any President, for nothing accomplished , but something he might do in the future. Our President has accomplished all this in less than 2 years. Truly and amazing accomplishment for such a shy, unassuming person, who never makes any effort to call attention to himself or impose this political will on anyone. He is a true consensus builder in the mold of Thomas Jefferson, or was that George Jefferson, I think it was George Jefferson.

I want this record to show that I, Sophia, also agree with President Obama 100% when it comes to saying that it’s all George Bush’s fault.

It was George Bush’s fault that kept our (yours and my) President from keeping his promise of putting all congressional bills on the White House Web site for 5 days before signing them into law.

George Bush insisted the President break his promise that the health care debate be broadcast on C-SPAN. It’s George Bush’s fault that a new area of bipartisan cooperation has not been instilled in Washington D.C. and in all areas of the Federal Government.

George Bush is to be blamed for all the closed door meetings where secret deals were worked out and never seen the light of day, buried deep into 2000 page laws, that no body ever read before voting. None of these type political practices were ever condoned by the President. Such secret meetings and secret deals are being forced upon this poor President by non there than George Bush.

It certainty’s George Bush’s fault that our President can’t keep his promise to publish the names of all those in attendance at all closed door meeting at the White House. George Bush is vey insistent that these names never be seen in public.

All the problems in Arizona are defiantly George Bush’s fault. Just as George Bush has kept our President from closing Guantanamo, and bringing all the bad guys right here to the USA, George Bush has also kept our President from making peace with the nations that want to see the United States destroyed, and bringing in a new era of global cooperation.

It was George Bush who insisted that the Attorney General hold terrorists’ trials in New York City, not the President. It’s George Bush who will not allow the President to put an end of hiring former lobbyists into high profile jobs in the White House.

It’s George Bush who’s insisting that “Chicago Style” politics be used in all White House activity. It’s George Bush’s fault for appointing all those to high government positions that had not paid their income tax before hand.

George Bush alone made the decision to fire Shirley Scherrod. The President didn’t even know about it, until after George Bush had already fired her, so the President called her up and offered her job back and told her not to listen to George Bush anymore and if he calls her again, she’s to call the President right away.

The Senate seat in Massachusetts vacated by Ted Kennedy was won by a republican for the first time in 50 years simply because the voters in that state hated George Bush so much, they wanted to send a republican to the Senate to illustrate their discuss with George Bush. And so they did.

That new Governor in New Jersey is much the same situation, those New Jersey voters hate George Bush so much as the people in Massachusetts. They just wanted to make sure the whole country knows how much they hate George Bush, so they elected a Republican Governor for the first time in many, many years. The voters in New Jersey now consider their new governor an “in your face slap” to George Bush.

George Bush has even kept our President from choosing a home church in Washington like he promised. It’s so disgusting that George Bush is keeping the President from going to church in Washington DC.

George Bush has kept the President from ending the no-compete contracts the federal government like he promised. As well as keeping the President from creating the most open and transparent administration ever, as he promised.

It seems the President can’t do anything to shut George Bush up. Every time the President starts to do something or has a good idea, up pops George Bush, and all hell breaks loose. Just look what he done in the Gulf of Mexico. If ya stop and look at it, BP and GB are pretty close together, no wonder the Presidents having so much trouble out of those two.

It’s with these thoughts and words that I’ve truly seen the light when it comes to our President. My only concern now is how bad will George Bush’s gona mess up the November elections for us democrats. With these few words in print I’ve cleared my mind of any wrongdoing and I’m now able to face the future knowing that I’ve set the record straight with my views of our President.

I’m now sure that he did come to my establishment when I operated that Cat House on the South Side of Chicago. I remember now, I hosted an open house when the Community Organizers’ Convention was held in Chicago. They all came to the Cat House, those community organizers. They liked that stuff, those community organizers.

With the above statements of fact being put to paper, I can now get on with my life.
Sophia
##0##
Damn Republican Cat !!

August sure showed up fast, seems like yesterday was July 4th, I just blinked and August came knocking at the door. I’m not sure if Julius Cesar named August after his cousin Augustus or not, but I do know those Cesar boys liked to keep stuff in the family. Sounds like hillbillies, we like to keep stuff in the family too.

Did ya know that August 1st is Lammas Day? And someone said there were no holidays in August. Were they ever wrong. We start out on the very first day of August with Lammas Day. Now for many that's not a major holiday. Guess what, Lammas Day pre dates Labor Day, 4th of July, Thanksgiving, Memorial Day, and Presidents Day, all combined. I think I may have told ya ‘bout Lammas Day last year, but that’s ok, ‘cause all to few celebrate such an important holiday. Now if it was the first Monday in August, watch ‘em flock to it.

Lammas Day marks the beginning of the harvest. In old England, loaves of bread were baked from the first-ripened grain, consecrated in churches, and eaten. Derived from the Old English hlaf, “loaf,” and maesse, “mass” or “feast,” Lammas is very old indeed.

An ancient English Festival called the Gule of August, which marked the beginning of the harvest, started on August 1st . Now this Gule of August was kinda like the original 4-H Fair, just not quite as well organized.

Actually the Gule of August and its evaluation into Lammas Day is much like Easter and the Easter Bunny in the since that the very early Christian church took pagan festivals and adapted them into them into the church calendar in the hope of attracting more people to the church. That strategy may account for the large numbers of pagans in the church today. An old, old proverb says “After Lammas Day, corn ripens as much by night as by day”.

I’ve a friend that grows gardens and brings me stuff. The other day he brought garlic. I’m not a big fan as many of you know, but for the Italians in my life, WOW ! Almost like Manna for Heaven.

Did ya ever hear the term “the stinking rose”? It’s an old Greek thing from way, way back, even farther back than the Gule of August. Another term was the “poor man’s antibiotic. ” Garlic was used in Europe as far back as the Middle Ages and in China possibly as far back as the Neolithic period.

Not only do folks eat the stuff, they say it’s good for just ‘bout everything ya can think of. Keeps bugs away from plants. Rub raw garlic on insect bites. Rub crushed garlic on you skin to keep ticks, mosquitoes and hillbillies away. Eat lots of garlic to speed recovery of a cold. Chewing garlic is supposed to increase stamina and courage (at least the ole Greeks and Romans thought so). I wonder ‘bout that stamina part, I’ll have to ask some old Romans I know. These Italian people I know think garlic is as good as WD40 for what ills ya, and maybe it is.

The pleasure of your company at the East Wing is forever growing in our hearts.

Stay safe in Afghanistan.

From the East Wing, Sophia’s Apologies, Gule of August, Garlic & WD40

I wish you well,
BobbyRay

From The East Wing, July Stargazing, The National Spokescat, Czars of Obama, Starke County Invasions

2010-07-25T19:47:00.001-07:00

Greetings to all, and welcome new friends to the East Wing.

In the good old summer time, WOW! The heat is on! And so is the water. It rained 5” at the East Wing Yesterday, now that’s a lot of water. The water was within a fraction on an inch from coming in my front door. I love summer.

Stargazing in warm weather is so much fun, ya don’t see as good as mid winter, but summer stargazing is so much more fun. Ya may not see as good, but lots warmer, lots, lots warmer. Stargazing without cold fingers, it don’t get better than that. Not to mention the lack of cold toes.

When ya stargaze in the summertime ya compensate for the view by looking at closer in stuff. I never try to look at any thing farther from the sun than Mars in the summertime. This past week, the moon was Blue Light Special.

Today, Sunday, is the full Moon of July. The American Indians called the July full Moon the Full Buck Moon. “Cause that’s when the buck deer started to grow new antlers. Guess we just don’t care that much anymore ‘bout when deer starts to grow antlers. Those old Indians also called the July full Moon the Thunder Moon, ‘cause thunderstorms are more frequent in July than any other month, as last Saturday Night can well attest. The thunder rolled.

Spending so much time this past week looking at the Moon, I got to thinking ‘bout how much weather lore is tied to the Moon. Things such as: A pale full Moon indicates rain, while a red one brings wind. In the wane of the Moon, a cloudy morning bodes a fair afternoon. If the crescent Moon holds its points upward, able to contain water, it predicts a dry spell.

If the new Moon stands on its points, expect precipitation to spill out. A winter full Moon is a time for long cold snaps. A full Moon in April brings frost. Sailors thought that the full Moon "eats clouds."
Two full Moons in a month increase the chances of flood. A pale full Moon indicates rain, while a red one brings wind. A Christmas full Moon predicts a poor harvest. The days following a new Moon or a full Moon are typically stormy.

I’s truly surprising how much of that old stuff tends to come true. What else that’s amazing is how much of those old saying are now supported by scientific fact. And the rest that's not supported by science, well, that part mostly works too, just because.

Of all the emails Sophia the Republican Cat receives, she shares very few. Most, I assume, are related to her extreme right leaning political views. She is after all the national spokescat for several of the more prominent conservative organizations such as the CCCCC(California Calico Conservative Cat Conformance) , NCCOA (National Conservative Calico Cats Of America) as well as the NRCCA (National Republican Calico Cats of America) , and the NTCA (National Tea Cat Association) and we all know that when it comes to public participation in free speech, Sophia is the first to speak up. And the cat always has something to say, and most of the time, she'll make somebody mad when she says it. Damn Republican cat.

On occasion Sophia will get an email that she precedes to be of such importance to her cause that she'll thrust something in my face and dare me to include it from the East Wing. The listing of the Presidents Czar appointments are just such an issue. I didn’t know ‘bout all these Czars, I knew there were some, I thought maybe 4 or 5, knew nothing ‘bout anybody’s background, so when Sophia proposed I print her email, I checked it out for the accuracy, and guess what, it’s accurate.

Richard Holbrooke, Afghanistan Czar An ultra liberal anti gun former Gov. Of New Mexico. Pro Abortion and legal drug use.

Ed Montgomery Auto Recovery Czar A black radical anti business activist. Affirmative Action and Job Preference for blacks. University of Maryland Business School Dean. Teaches US business has caused world poverty. ACORN board member. Communist Dubois Club member.

Jeffrey Crowley, AIDS Czar , A radical Homosexual.. A Gay Rights activist. Believes in Gay Marriage and especially, a Special Status for homosexuals only, including complete free health care for gays.

Alan Bersin, Border Czar, The former failed superintendent of San Diego . Ultra Liberal friend of Hilary Clinton. Served as Border Czar under Janet Reno

David J. Hayes, California Water Czar Senior Fellow of radical environmentalist group, "Progress Policy". No training or experience in water management whatsoever.

Ron Bloom, Car Czar, Auto Union worker. Anti business & anti nuclear. Has worked hard to force US auto makers out of business. Sits on the Board of Chrysler which is now Auto Union owned

Dennis Ross, Central Region Czar. Believes US policy has caused Mid East wars. Obama apologist to the world. Anti gun and completely pro abortion.
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Lynn Rosenthal, Domestic Violence Czar, Director of the National Network to End Domestic Violence. Vicious anti male feminist. Supported male castration.

Gil Kerlikowske, Drug Czar, Devoted lobbyist for every restrictive gun law proposal, Former Chief of Police in Liberal Seattle. Believes no American should own a firearm. Supports legalization of all drugs

Paul Volcker, Economic Czar. Head of Fed Reserve under Jimmy Carter when US economy nearly failed. Obama appointed head of the Economic Recovery Advisory Board which engineered the Obama economic plan. Member of anti business "Progressive Policy" organization.

Carol Brower, Energy and Environment Czar. Political Radical Former head of EPA - known for anti-business activism. Strong anti-gun ownership.

Joshua DuBois, Faith Based Czar, Political Black activist-Degree in Black Nationalism. Anti gun ownership lobbyist.

Cameron Davis, Great Lakes Czar. Chicago radical anti business environmentalist. Blames George Bush for "Poisoning the water that minorities have to drink." No experience or training in water management. Former ACORN Board member

Van Jones Green Jobs Czar ,(since resigned).. Black activist Member of American communist Party and San Francisco Communist Party who said Geo Bush caused the 911 attack and wanted Bush investigated by the World Court for war crimes. Black activist with strong anti-white views.

Daniel Fried, Guantanamo Closure Czar. Human Rights activist for Foreign Terrorists. Believes America has caused the war on terrorism. Believes terrorists have rights above and beyond Americans.

Nancy-Ann DeParle, Health Czar. Former head of Medicare / Medicaid. Strong Health Care Rationing proponent. She is married to a reporter for The New York Times.

Vivek Kundra Information Czar. Born in New Delhi , India . Controls all public information, including labels and news releases Monitors all private Internet emails.

Todd Stern, International Climate Czar. Anti business former White House chief of Staff- Strong supporter of the Kyoto Accord. Pushing hard for Cap and Trade. Blames US business for Global warming. Anti- US business prosperity.

Dennis Blair, Intelligence Czar. Ret. Navy, stopped US guided missile program as "provocative". Chair of ultra liberal "Council on Foreign Relations" which blames American organizations for regional wars.

George Mitchell, Mideast Peace Czar. Former Senator from Maine. Has said Israel should be split up into "2 or 3 " smaller more manageable plots. A true Anti-nuclear anti-gun & pro homosexual "special rights" advocate

Kenneth Feinberg, Pay Czar. Chief of Staff to Ted Kennedy. Lawyer who got rich off the 911 victims payoffs.

Cass Sunstein, Regulatory Czar. Liberal activist judge believes free speech needs to be limited for the "common good". Essentially against 1st amendment. Rules against personal freedoms many times -like private gun ownership and right to free speech.

John Holdren, Science Czar. Fierce ideological environmentalist, Sierra Club, Anti business activist. Claims US business has caused world poverty. No Science training.

Earl Devaney, Stimulus Accountability Czar. Spent career trying to take guns away from American citizens Believes in Open Borders to Mexico . Author of statement blaming US gun stores for drug war in Mexico .

J. Scott Gration, Sudan Czar. Native of Democratic Republic of Congo . Believes US does little to help Third World countries. Council of foreign relations, asking for higher US taxes to support United Nations.

Herb Allison, TARP Czar. Fannie Mae CEO responsible for the US recession by using real estate mortgages to back up the US stock market. Caused millions of people to lose their life savings.

John Brennan, Terrorism Czar. Anti CIA activist. No training in diplomatic or government affairs. Believes Open Borders to Mexico and a dialog with terrorists and has suggested Obama disband US military

Aneesh Chopra, Technology Czar .No Technology training. Worked for the Advisory Board Company, a health care think tank for hospitals. Anti doctor activist. Supports Obama Health Care Rationing and salaried doctors working exclusively for the Gov. health care plan.

Adolfo Carrion, Jr.Urban Affairs Czar. Puerto Rican born Anti American activist and leftist group member in Latin America . Millionaire "slum lord" of the Bronx , NY. Owns many lavish homes and condos which he got from "sweetheart" deals with labor unions. Wants higher taxes on middle class to pay for minority housing and health care.

Ashton Carter, Weapons Czar. Leftist. Wants all private weapons in US destroyed. Supports UN ban on firearms ownership in America . No Other "policy"

Gary Samore, Weapons of Mass Destruction Policy Czar. Former US Communist. Wants US to destroy all of Weapons of Mass Destruction unilaterally as a show of good faith. Has no other "policy".

Reading the list for the first time gave me a feeling of disbelief, the second time through gave me the impression that these appointed positions do in fact reflect the true political beliefs of the President of The United States, the person who appointed the Czars. Reading this list for the third time, gave me the impression that this is the “CHANGE” a majority of us voted for. Reading this list for the fourth time gave me the impression that this was not the change that I voted for.

Sophia wouldn’t divulge the source of her information, but I suspect it came from Fox News. It just looks like a Bill Glen Beck thing to me. One thing for sure, that list didn’t come from the White House. In a way I guess it did come from the White House. The appointments did, their backgrounds are public information………. And they’ll know we are Christian by our deeds, by our deeds.

Seems ya hear ‘bout these appointments and then never hear ‘bout them again. Ya can’t help but wonder what’s going on under the radar. Now how about this Alan Bersin, The Border Czar. This guy also served as Border Czar under Janet Reno, and we all remember that pretty girl. Wonder why, if we have this border czar, ya never hear ‘bout him?

Maybe he’s too busy securing the border in Arizona to be on CNN or NBC, or God forbid, Fox News. After the White House humiliation last week with the USDA black lady and the white farmer, you’d think they’d make sure that we all know our tax dollars at work for the Border Czar is money in action. I’d propose they do photo opts of this Border Czar packing heat and patrolling the border in Arizona.

Too bad John Wayne’s not here anymore, why the “Duke” and “Dirty Harry” combined, they’d take care of that Arizona mess in a week, ten days at the outside. We don’t have any real cowboys left, they went the way of the railroads. And yes, we miss ‘em now they’re gone.

One thing for sure, if that border issue is not going to be resolved soon, we’ll see more and more like situations come to the forefront. It can only get worse, not better. Why I’ve even heard rumbling right here at home that there’re too many hillbillies in Starke County.

Knowing that for sure, I’m proposing we organize a resistance to such influx of these undesirables. Those undocumented hillbillies. They’re taking our jobs, houses, and the next thing ya know they’ll be taking the women and children too. We need to decide just where to draw the line. Shall we place our defenses at the Starke / Pulaski County Line, or move all the way south to the Ohio River, seize control of the bridges, both road and rail, and fortify the north bank?

Either way something gotta be done. It’s clear that the federal government’s not going to be of any help with our problem. Why even have the Department of Homeland Security if they won’t help you protect your homeland? We need at least 5000 National Guards on our border, while Kentucky’s doing nothing to stem the flow north. Enough is enough. It’s time we true born Hoosiers take control of our own destiny and not leave such important issues as these hillbillies overrunning The State of Indiana to those Jack Wagons in Washington D.C. It seems that the political bucket of “you know what” in Indianapolis has sided with Jack Wagons to also ignore our plight. Just wait, our turn is coming. Our day will come.

The way the people ‘round here talk, I’m starting to think there may be some concern ‘bout illegal aliens from Illinois also slipping in through gaps in our western border. There seems to be an unusually high number of those kind, especially in the Bass Lake area. Some things just never change. Then the Big Bad Wolf said “I’ll huff and puff and I’ll blow your house down” and so he did. But the answer was not blowing on the wind.

Stay Safe in Afghanistan

From The East Wing, July Stargazing, The National Spokescat, Czars of Obama, Starke County Invasions

I wish you well,
BobbyRay

From the East Wing, With The Bishop of Winchester, Cold Hot Dogs & Kool-Aid, Sunburns at Southfork, Bentley & Spike, BP & Money

2010-07-18T14:50:00.000-07:00

Greetings to all, and welcome Sweet Home Alabama,

It surprised me how many people thought I’d just made up the story of St. Swithin. Now granted the ole boy’s not as popular as St. Valentine or St. Nicholas, or even the Easter Bunny for that matter. He didn’t bring ya chocolate or give ya presents, didn’t even give ye colored eggs.

Although he did do a miracle with a case of eggs a while back. What happened was a lady was taking the eggs to an open market when she encountered a gang of mean men looking for something other than eggs. Without getting into all the sordid details the case of eggs was smashed. Along comes St. Swithin and proves all the kings horses and all the kings men wrong, by putting all the eggs back together again. It’s not water into wine, but is an omelet reversal. That is why ya supposed to eat eggs on St. Swithin Day. He’s just as legitimate as they come in the saint business. That Bishop of Winchester.

Saint Swithin lived a long, long time ago, it was over 1148 years ago was when he was buried in 862. Ya know that’s a long time when it seems strange to write a year with just three digits. He was the Bishop of Winchester for 10 years. Now being the Bishop of Winchester was no lowly job by any means, it was surely the single most important church position in England.

Now when the King of England comes to your church, ya know ya got his ear, so to speak. Kinda like President Obama going to the Rev. Wright’s church in Chicago and not listening to what’s being said, for twenty years. Yeah Wright, or was that wrong?

On his deathbed St. Swithin instructed that he be buried outside the north wall of his cathedral where passers-by could walk over his grave and raindrops from the eaves drop upon him.

When he died, back in 862, he was buried outside like he wanted. But ‘bout 100 years later, it was considered unsuitable that such a holy a man rest in a common grave. I guess by then everybody forgot that he wanted to be out there in the rain in the first place. So on July 15, the saint's feast day, they went to dig him up and enshrine his remains inside his church. Legend has it that St. Swithin caused torrential rains to fall for 40 days, until the intended transfer was abandoned.

Well that makes a really neat story but that’s not exactly how it ended, with St. Swithin still outside in the rain. The legend got it wrong, as many legends do. The real ending is even more interesting, although St. Swithin didn’t want to be brought in from the rain, he was. In fact not only brought in from the rain, but dismembered and as time went on, parts of St. Swithin were hauled to different churches all over England.

Seem good saints were hard to come by, even back then, and everybody wanted a part of St. Swithin, so he ended up here and there and most everywhere. But always inside not outside like he wanted. It did rain forty days when they first dug him up. So it just makes the story better.

And ya gotta keep in mind that back then they didn't have TV to look at so they made up good stories. After watching some of the TV crap on today, I long for St Swithin type stories.

The St. Swithin story and the rain is the source of a really old Scottish weather proverb regarding rain on July 15. "St. Swithin's Day if thou dost rain, / For forty days it will remain." With my dad being part Scottish, the St. Swithin’s Day rain for 40 days was one of the first weather lore stories I can remember as a child. St. Swithin’s historical importance as bishop is far overshadowed by his reputation for posthumous miracle-working. According to tradition, the weather on his feast day (15 July) will continue for forty days.

Speaking of weather lore, last weeks email brought a couple new ones I’d never head before. I’ll be sure and share those with ya later in the year, but one has to be used today. “The faster a cricket chirps, the warmer the temperature”. I don’t know ‘bout your house cricket, but mine’s been really, really chirping here lately.

I almost forgot to tell ya, July 15, 2010 was the hardest 24 hr. rainfall on England so far this year, and it’s forecast to continue to rain for quite some time. Coincidence or St. Swithin? Ya just never know for sure ‘bout stuff like that.

Thank you one and all for your expressed concern ‘bout my health and offered up prayers on my behalf. It must be working as I'm feeling much better and my blood sugar level is going in the right direction. Not yet normal, but a lot better than in the 450+ range. So things are coming back into focus and life is getting back to normal in my world.

The major changes in my life are the eating habits. For the good, for a change. Lots of veggies and non carbohydrate type foods. It turns out ya can eat lots of good stuff, just don’t eat lots of carbohydrates and sugar. I used to think that eating diabetic food doomed one to a life of bland food with no hope of tasting real food ever again in your life, boy was I wrong. I’ve never eaten so well in my life as I do now. Today for lunch me and the she had a vegetable pizza, yes, a vegetable pizza and it was great. Never thought I’d ever say, much less type such a thing.

Eating six or even seven times a day takes some getting used to, but it works out well. Salsa has always been one of my favorite foods and I find out I can eat as much as I want, any time I want. SWEET ! I now put salsa on everything, salsa on green beans, one of my personal favorites. I’m thinking ‘bout maybe trying salsa & soup beans.

Thanks also for the many diabetic recipes that have been sent my way. We will try 'em all, and I do appreciate someone taking the time to send it to me. I’m amazed at how may of those visiting the East Wing every week are diabetic, and I thought I was alone. It turns out I’m in the company of friends and family. In the presence of friends and family, one’s never alone. It’s kinda like getting bad news. Somehow if ya receive bad news, it just becomes more bearable if ya share the bad news with others. Don’t know why that is, it just is. And things like that ya don’t spend too much time trying to figure it out why. It just is, so leave it alone and go think ‘bout other stuff.

What makes my adjustments in eating habits so easy is the fact that me and the she both eat the same thing. Except she only eats three times a day and I do the six or seven thing. Now I was always of the impression that a diabetic diet was a sure fire way to lose weight. Not so, haven’t lost much, less than 10 lbs, but if ya can eat six or seven times a day and not gain weight ya gotta be happy, and full.

July is the hottest month of the year. With that thought in mind I started remembering what we used to do in Downtown Toto before air conditioning. It was hot back then too. We would open the house to the night air after sunset and leave everything open until morning, every window, every door. They all had screens, both windows and doors. Then in the early morning, draw all the shades, windows and doors before the temperature starts to rise for the day.

To feel cooler, we’d eat cooler. Cold hot dogs and lots of Kool-Aid. Bologna Sandwiches and Ice Water. Getting ice was kinda different than now. Today I just put the glass under the magic hole in the refrigerator door and presto, ice fills the glass. Having ice available in 1957 was more labor intensive. It was a process more so than an outcome. Effort before need was a prerequisite for ice in 1957. It wasn’t great ice, but it was good ice. Back then there was no expiration date on ice. When it all melted, ya just figured it had expired.

Anybody got sunburned this summer? I’m amazed that I’ve not sunburned the top of my head this year, for sure not too much hair, just too little exposure to the ole sun. Did ya ever put apple cider vinegar on sunburns, or Witch Hazel, or cold peppermint tea? That’s what Lou used on me at Southfork if I got too much sun.

One time I got sunburned on my face real bad from playing in the waters of Southfork too long during the “high sun” time of the day. The “high sun” is that time in which the sun shined directly on where you’re at. In the mountains that could be a fairly short time period, as another mountain could be blocking the remainder of the day. So knowing the high sun time was important when ya played in the creek at Southfork, ‘cause sunshine reflecting off the water burns faster than when you’re outside the water.

Anyway, when I got my face sunburned, Lou washed my face with buttermilk. Now don’t laugh, it worked. She done it 3 times. The first time just as soon as I came in the house from playing in the water. The second time after we all ate supper. The third time just before I went to bed. I though Lou was crazy, washing me with buttermilk and all. Then the next morning I woke up with no sunburn. Well I guess that’s just another example of how Lou and I got along. I still miss that old girl, Lou.

There’s another way to prevent sunburn. Wear a Hat. DUH!

Got a new dog at the East Wing, name of Bentley. Now Bentley’s had some tough days in his life, can tell by the way he acts, or more accurately, the way he reacts. I hate people who abuse pets, sickos all. If ya don’t want ‘em don’t get ‘em, but don’t abuse ‘em when ya get ‘em. I think that’s an old hillbilly saying.

Bentley’s ‘bout two years old and just last week went to the doctor for that special surgery. Came home the same afternoon barking two octaves higher, but he’s fine and none the less for wear. Just a little clip, clip here and a little clip, clip there and presto, a Brown and White Soprano.

Bentley’s best pal is Spike. A size difference of 60 lbs or so doesn’t seem to bother Spike or Bentley. They play. When I told ‘em not to play ruff, Spike said “If he gets hurt it’s his own fault”. Spike rules. While Sophia wants nothing to do with Bentley until she sees his voter registration card and picture ID. she did ask if Bentley had ever been through the Arizona desert. I know where that cat’s going with those type questions. Even without the voter registration card, I’m pretty sure Bentley’s a democrat, ‘cause he just lays around like the 2girldogs, looking for a handout.

Sure am glad to see that oil well coked off in the Gulf of Mexico. At least for the time being, and hopefully for good. Now the real fight begins, who gets the money. What about the vacationers from Kansas who didn’t get to go to the Gulf Cost on vacation this year due to the oil spill, surely they should be compensated some amount for having to go somewhere else on vacation.

Seems to me it could have been a lot better public relations move if the President had taken his family on vacation to the Gulf Cost last week, right after telling all of us to go there on vacation, then take his family to Maine. Maybe there was a Community Organizers Convention or something like that up there in Maine, But it’s hard to tell,‘cause all those Community Organizer Conventions, they all look alike, up there in Maine.

Knowing our government’s ability to screw things up, I expect the disgruntled Kansas Vacationers will be placed in line just ahead of the Bubba Gump Shrimp Company, who is way up front of that lowly deck hand on the shrimp boat who’s not worked since April, or has any expectations of ever working on a shrimp boat again in his foreseeable future. But he’ll get something, we just don’t care when or how much.

Do ya really think BP gives a damn. I don’t. BP cares ‘bout making money for it’s investors, nothing more, nothing less. As cold and cruel as that may seem to many, all corporations exist for the very same and single reason. Does a company exist to create jobs. No. A company exist to make a profit for its investors. Nothing more, nothing less. Anybody who thinks otherwise, doesn’t have a clue as to how and why corporations function the way they do. That simple fact is Business Management 101, first day, first hour, and repeated forever.

Did BP plan this disaster? Of course not. No more than Toyota planning to build 10 million cars that had to be repaired. The way I look at this whole sorry mess is the Toyota cars didn’t dump crap in the ocean. Had they done so, Toyota would be putting up the 20 billion fund to pay the mad vacationer from Kansas, who’s standing right behind the President who had to vacation in Maine due to the oil spill.

Stay safe in Afghanistan.

From the East Wing, With The Bishop of Winchester, Cold Hot Dogs & Kool-Aid, Sunburns at Southfork, Bentley & Spike, BP & Money

I wish you well,
BobbyRay

From the East Wing, Starting Dog Days, Easter Island & Looking At The Sun, P.S.M., A Family Of Kings

2010-07-11T17:07:00.000-07:00

Greetings to all, and welcome new friends to the East Wing.

Lazy summer day, that July 5th, that extra holiday for July 4th. Do ya like to feel hot summer wind in your face? I do. And that Monday was just the day for hot summer wind. Done a little yard work, trimming around the flag pole base, and racking up the trimmings. Decided that’s enough work for one day and went back inside to play with the 2girldogs.

We’re not yet a week into the Dog Days of Summer and the 2girldogs are milking it for all it’s worth. Good thing the 2girldogs have their own couch, else they’d never fit the way they stretch out. I didn’t know the Pup Baby was that long. Guess that’s one of the benefits of being girldogs, ya get 40 days in the middle of summer where ya don’t have to do anything. I wonder if that’s all the democrats, or just the 2girldogs.

Course Sophia the Republican Cat’s not too far behind when it comes to the lazy days of summer. She spends time outside doing that Jungle Cat thing, but much of the time she too sleeps on the couch. Sophia struck a deal with the Pup Baby, she sleeps on the back of the couch while Mustina uses the seats. I’m not sure if any money changed hands on that deal or not, but knowing Sophia, I’m pretty sure she got the better of the deal, she most generally does.

Sophia’s having trouble with her national party chairman, Michael Steele, as he’s offended most republicans including Sophia for his remarks on the Afghanistan War, calling it “Obama’s War”. I guess the republicans want to make sure the get credit for that one. Seem to me there is enough misery over there go around, why don’t they just share the pain. But no! gotta have it all or nothing. I say let ‘em have it. Damn Republicans.

I no longer get email from Iraq. All the people who visited the East Wing while in Iraq have either gone home or transferred over to the Afghanistan War. I get some real interesting emails from Afghanistan. It appears to me the mood of the soldiers in Afghanistan is completely different than when they were in Iraq. The emails are different that’s for sure.

What I read from online news and hear on TV is a whole lot different than what I read in my email. It seems many share the views of the replaced general when it comes to the civilian side of the military management of this war. I have yet to receive a single positive comment from that war zone. Now more so than ever before I ask your prayers for those brave men and women who carry the burden of this war. I hope to, at some time in the future, share with you some of the things that have been said to me by those who keep us free. You’ll be amazed, shocked, and outraged. Better yet, look for yourself, just do a search on Military Rules of Engagement Afghanistan War.

Did ya see the total eclipse of the Sun today? Not if ya live in North America, ‘cause ya can only see it from the South Pacific Ocean and lower parts of South America. The very best place to see the eclipse was on Easter Island, that’s off the coast of Chili ‘bout 160 miles or so, as a matter of fact, I think Easter Island is a part of the world controlled by Chili. Easter Island is famous for those big stone faces that no body knows what they mean or why they made ‘em. That Easter Island stuff is kinda like the pyramids, some folks think they know a lot more ‘bout that stuff than they do also.

There’s always a danger of people going blind when a solar eclipse occurs. No matter how many people say don’t look directly into the sun during an eclipse, some do and pay the price, blindness for life. Never ever look directly into the sun even for a few seconds. There is no second chance when looking into the sun. After all the warnings on such things, my only advise is if you’re still dumb enough to look, pick out the white cane before ya look, if ya ever want to see it.

I think I mentioned a while back, that I gotta sun filter for my telescope. Too bad I can’t see the eclipse from the East Wing, else I’d look. I’ve watched solar eclipse’s before, but never thru a telescope sun filter. One time I created a homemade device to allow ya to look indirectly at a solar eclipse. Got the plans from a magazine, it worked fine, I didn’t go blind, so far.

When I was a kid in Downtown Toto, I saw an article in a little know publication to most folks in Toto, it was called “Popular Science” My dad got me a subscription when I was in the 5th grade and I loved that little book ever since, read it cover to cover every time it came in the mail.

Popular Science had all the plans to build a cardboard box observatory to watch the solar eclipse. Ya had to have a big box, and get inside and put a little hole on the side of the box facing the sun, let the sunshine in the box and look at the opposing wall. If ya had a perfect round hole, and it was big enough, ya could see the shadow of the earth cross the sunshine in the back of the box. It took me three boxes to get it right, but when I did, it worked. The final box was one used to cover a refrigerator and it worked swell! As a matter of fact, it worked so well that I charged other kids to go inside and look at the solar eclipse. The box was so big, two could get inside at the same time and still see the show. Don’t remember for sure, but I may have made a nickel that day. ‘Course a nickel went a lot farther then.

The next time we’ll have any opportunity to see an eclipse will be December 21st this year. Not the sun, but the moon. This eclipse will be visible to all over the country. This one will be a good one to watch if it’s a clear night. It starts a little late, ‘bout 11:30P.M., my time. It ends a little after 5:00 A.M., almost 6 hours of watching if ya wanta stay up all night. For this one ya got two things going for ya. One is it’s the best time of the year to stargaze and two it’ll be cold, so I’m not gona stay out all night watching the eclipse of the Moon.

Usually when I talk ‘bout stargazing, I get some email saying I’ve not used correct technical language to describe what I’m talking ‘bout. So here goes, for those folks who insist that I use “stargazer talk” this next paragraph’s for you.

On December 21, 2010 A total eclipse of the Moon will occur. This Lunar Eclipse will be fully visible from all of North America. The moon enters penumbra at 11:28 P.M. CST on December 20th and leaves penumbra at 5:06 A.M. CST on December 21.

Now for the non stargazers wonder what I’m talking ‘bout, that penumbra stuff is simply a partial outer shadow that is lighter than the darker inner shadow, the umbra. The area between complete darkness and complete light in an eclipse. I looked a lot at the stars before I learned ‘bout the penumbra and umbra stuff. When I looked thru my first telescope, I didn’t know an umbra from an umbrella. I now know. Never rely on an umbra if it's ‘bout to rain, and if ya need an umbrella, chances are you're not going to see an umbra anyway.

Thinking back on reading Popular Science Magazine, it’s truly amazing how many things I remember reading about in that magazine that have become reality today. Telephone without wires, machines that make other machines, automobiles that drive themselves, men on the ocean bottom, men walking on the moon, are just some of the things I remember reading first in my Popular Science Magazine. I still get Popular Science Magazine, still look forward to reading it cover to cover. I guess some things just never change, while it seems some things just never remain the same.

Had several emails wanting to know how Spike’s doing with the Spike Rules of the East Wing. Well to tell ya the truth, Spike finds the learning curve steep. Or else he’s just ignoring the Spike Rules altogether. A few cases in point being, I still see that white paw coming under the bathroom door almost every time I go in that room. He still walks on the 2girldogs food. He drinks from the large water bowl, not the small water bowl. Spike has taken a special liking to Mustina, he and the Pup Baby are now buds. They hang out, play together and when Pup Baby takes a nap, well, Spike takes a nap too, on top of Mustina. Spike Rules.

Now Sophia and Spike, well that’s a different story. Sophia refers to the little guy as “The Gray Cat Democrat” Like I said, seems some things just never change. Sophia The Republican Cat.

Being a descendent of a family of Kings, I spent this Sunday Afternoon at the King Reunion. Held annually the first Sunday after the 4th of July. Been going to that thing for most of my life, and ya just never get tired of seeing family. Some family ya see just once a year, others ya may see often, but always family, and always glad they’re there. The one thing I’ve noticed at the King Reunion is the change in the food.

As a kid, when I first started going to this party, other than cold pop, (soda for the rest of ya) I’d say 95% of the food was home made . The Ladies of King cooked the green beans, prepared chicken & dumplings, baked the hams, fried the chickens , baked the cornbread, mashed the potatoes, sliced the red tomatoes, peeled & sliced the onions, cooked the pinto beans, baked the meat loaf, made the banana puddings, baked the chocolate cakes, and pecan pies, even made the ice-cream. A meal fit for Kings.

Evolution has affected the meal fit for Kings, much the same way it’s affected the rest of society. The 95% transformed into 5%. Green beans are more apt to come from cans, chicken & dumplings are as rare as hens teeth, while hams are cousins trying to be funny. Fried Chicken comes from the round box with you know who’s picture on the side, and cornbread from a box is just not right, it’s just not right. Instant potatoes, just add stuff and keep telling yourself they’re just as good as the real thing, Yeah Right! And all the other dishes fall into line, the checkout line, at the delli.

The way I’m talking you’d think I didn’t like the food at the King Reunion, that’s not the case at all, I like most everybody else ate like little piggys. While eating I just happened to remember, 40 years ago we ate different stuff at this party.

It was a special day. All my sisters at one table with my mother. Any time ya can sit with all your sisters and your mother for a meal on a Sunday Afternoon, it’s a good day. For those that don’t know my connection to the Family of Kings, It’s my mama, Ruth King was her maiden name. When I talk ‘bout Lou and Southfork, Lou was my mama’s mother.

I had such a special relationship with Lou. The old girl had 68 grandchildren, 67 called her grandma, I called her Lou. We got along, me and Lou, she didn’t like being called a grandma, she told me so. Lou never got old. We played in the waters of Southfork, me and Lou.

A large group, that Family of Kings, George, Robert, Damon, Burl, Arlene, Mint, Mage, Martha, Myrtle, Ruth, Gladys, four boys and seven girls. Time has reduced the attendance of the original Kings. There is only a pair of Kings remaining, but what a pair to draw to. Today there was only a single original King in the house. My mama.

Stay safe in Afghanistan.

From the East Wing, Starting the Dog Days, Easter Island & Looking At The Sun, P. S. M., A Family Of Kings

I wish you well,
BobbyRay

From the East Wing, On July 4th, , Julius Caesar &The Month of Brutus, Doing July Stuff, Looking At The Sun, Dog Days, Orion & Star Lore, Flat Rocks

2010-07-04T20:14:00.000-07:00

Greetings to all, and welcome new friends to the East Wing.

Midsummer Day is barely past and POW ! The 4th of July. The unchallenged highlight of the summertime, 4th of July. This year with the 4th on a Sunday, everybody gets an extra holiday on the 5th of July. Now more than ever before, it’s important to never lose site of the fact that we are free because of the brave. The brave men and women of our nation from 1776 to this very day in Iraq and Afghanistan. They have kept us free to be able to say and do what we want. As a people we’re so free in our society, we don’t even know it. Like many things in life, freedom not worth nothing till it's gone. The land of the free because of the brave.

This is a real 3 day weekend, not one of those stupid made up Monday Holidays just to make an artificial 3 day weekends. I hate when they do that. I still think some dumbkoff is gona come along and propose Easter the third Monday in April and Christmas the 4th Monday in December.

But for right now we just enjoy what July has to offer, and it offers lots. Julius Caesar named July after himself when he reworked the original Roman Calendar. Guess that’s one of the little perks ya get when you’re emperor, naming a month after yourself. Boy, if I were emperor, even for a day, I’d for sure name at least one month BobbyRay, maybe even two months, but that might be too confusing for my subjects, so I’ll just stick with one month. I think I’ll pick the one with my birthday, then make EVERYBODY get me presents. It’s fun being emperor, even for one day. Ya sure get a lot of birthday presents when you’re emperor.

Interesting little note ‘bout Julius Caesar naming July after himself, ironically, the change went into effect in 44 B.C. the same year Caesar was assassinated. Maybe those ole boys with those togas got mad ‘cause Julius had his month and they didn’t. Maybe he should have changed August to Brutus. I don’t know it that would have helped any, ‘cause I heard there were other reasons too. But having the month of Brutus for sure wouldn’t hurt the situation. And that ole boy needed all the help he could get and none came forward. That whole deal of the ides of March sounded to me like a Republican plot to take control. And they’ve been plotting ever since.

With Earth at its farthest point from the Sun this month, the sunshine comes with enough power to make July the warmest month for most of the North American Continent. That’s explained by angles of the Earth in relationship to the Sun. Now if ya don’t believe me on that angle stuff, just go outside and feel the direct sunshine on your skin, stay out there a little while in the sun, now remember that feeling, and go out again in January and stay ‘bout the same time out there in the sun. Be sure you don’t wear any more clothes when you go outside in January than you did when you went outside in July. Yeah, that’s what I’m talking ‘bout. Angles of the sun. Sometimes it’ll make ya want to wear coats.

Corn knee-high by the 4th of July, many of the fields around the East Wing are full of corn this year, and I’m telling ya, it’s not gona be knee-high by the 4th of July, it’s well over 6 ft by the 4th of July. It’s the tallest July 4th corn I’ve ever seen ‘round here Years ago when the farmer planted my field across the road, south of the East Wing, I think he planted that little short yellow kind. I’m sure you’ve heard that old saying “knee high to a grasshopper”, that kinda described my cornfield.

It’s that time of the year where ya can walk into a corn field just after dark, and as the air starts to cool for the night, ya can hear the corn grow. I’m sure some people will read that hearing the corn grow stuff, and think how stupid do ya think I am. Well I sure don’t think you’re stupid, but you’re probably one of those who thinks milk comes from a box. It doesn’t, cows are involved, in a major way.

July is for doing neat outside stuff, if ya got a sailboat, sail it. Not too many sail boats ‘round me, a few, but most everybody who has a boat, also has a motor for the boat. I never got into doing much water stuff in the summertime. I guess Downtown Toto was just too far from any large body of water to get too excited ‘bout doing water stuff. The closest water was a couple mile or so north to the Yellow River. I remember some times the army (The Toto Volunteers) would march to the river. Why, in the summertime, I've seen as much as 8 – 9 inches of water at that bridge, there north of Toto. It’s hard to learn to swim in 9 inchers of water, so we just mostly sat on our butt and splashed the water.

There’s a rather large above ground pool here at the East Wing, some 18’ by 36’. It’s above ground, ‘cause if I put it in ground, I’d have to pay more real estate tax on the pool than the East Wing. The pool is 4ft deep all over. We have very strict life safety rules here at the Pool at the East Wing. And I make sure everybody reads and understands the rules before I'll allow them into the pool. The rules are: IF YA START TO DROWN, STAND UP!

Drinking lemonade outside on the deck, fireworks, watching thunderstorms from inside the East Wing, ripe peaches, watermelons, and tomatoes tasting so good ya don’t know whether to eat ‘em today or save ‘em for tomorrow, and ya always eat ‘em today and let tomorrow take care of itself. Laying on a blanket in the yard just watching the clouds float by in a cloud so blue ya can see tomorrow. Now that’s July Days.

Another neat summer thing is the Dog Days of Summer. Not everybody seems to agree on when to start the Dog Days of Summer, in Ancient Rome, back when Julius Caesar was jerking ’round with the calendar , the Dog Days started on July 24 and ended August 24 But in some places it was July 23 to August 23. It’s tuff to get those European People (German, French, Italian) to agree on anything so that’s why everybody chooses what day they want for Dog Days.

Now here in the good ole U.S. of A. we tend to let The Old Farmer's Almanac take care of stuff like that and they list Dog Days as the 40 days beginning July 3 and ending August 11, coinciding with the ancient heliacal (at sunrise) rising of the Dog Star, Sirius. It’s also interesting to note that these are the days of the year when rainfall is at its lowest levels.

I can never talk ‘bout dogdays without recalling Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol reference to dogdays. Being a Charles Dickens fan, I get as much fun out of reading this description now as the first time I read it a while back.

Oh! But he was a tight-fisted hand at the grind-stone, Scrooge! A squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching, covetous, old sinner! Hard and sharp as flint, from which no steel had ever struck out generous fire; secret, and self-contained, and solitary as an oyster. The cold within him froze his old features, nipped his pointed nose, shrivelled his cheek, stiffened his gait; made his eyes red, his thin lips blue; and spoke out shrewdly in his grating voice. A frosty rime was on his head, and on his eyebrows, and his wiry chin. He carried his own low temperature always about with him; he iced his office in the dogdays; and didn't thaw it one degree at Christmas.

Gotta love Charles Dickens, Don’t know how many times I’ve read that story. And still re-read it from time to time. Just to savor writing such as the above paragraph. May I suggest you go back and re-read the description of Scrooge and see if ya don’t feel his cold too. Ya gotta remember now, Scrooge lived prior to air conditioning so “he iced this office in the dogdays” I don’t care who ya are, that’s a cold hearted person. Scrooge!

Don’t know why you’re suppose to eat eggs on St. Swithin’s Day (July 15th), ya just do, and oysters on St. James’s Day (July 26th). Now I can handle the St. Swithin’s Day eating an egg or two, but that St. James oyster deal is just gona pass me by. I don’t eat much of anything that swims or lives under water.

I mostly prefer to eat things that moo or grunt or even an occasional cluck or quack. Even with that limited selection of protein, there are parts I won’t eat. I never eat parts that filter, pump, think, or reproduce. It just don’t seem right to me to eat such things. But I’m a big fan of Chinese Restaurants, and once in a while I wonder if they may have slipped something in on me. Ya know, some of that stuff in the Chinese Restaurants don’t even have names, just numbers, and sometimes the numbers, they’re in Chinese. Ya just never know.

For my stargazing buddies, I just remembered that Earth reaches aphelion, its farthest point from the Sun, on this coming Tuesday, the 6th. A while back I got a new filter lens for my telescope so now I can look directly into the sun. But I haven’t done so yet. It’s kinda like the little guy in the movie with the new BB Gun, I’m afraid I'll burn my eye out. Maybe I'll risk it when I’m the farthest away from the sun.

One of the neat things ‘bout stargazing is learning ‘bout star lore, that’s about the creating and cherishing of mythical stories about the stars and star patterns (constellations and asterisms). It’s kinda like folklore based upon the stars and star patterns. Using the stars to explain religious doctrines or actual events in history is also star lore. Star lore has been around a long time. It has been practiced by nearly every culture recorded in history, dating as far back as 5,500 years ago. It was practiced by prehistoric cultures of the Paleolithic and Neolithic periods as well.

I first started to learn ‘bout star lore when I made my first telescope. It wasn’t the best scope I’ve ever looked thru, but I’ve never more proud of anything I’ve done than making that telescope. A long time ago pop bottles were made of glass and the Coke bottles had a thick base. I took two of those bottles and ground a set of lenses for my telescope. It took a while, but it worked. Don’t remember what ever happened to my first telescope, wonder if my mama has that, she saved everything else in the world.

A good example of star lore is the creation of the story ‘bout Orion the Hunter and Scorpius, the Scorpion by the ancient Greeks. Now these folks saw a very startling pattern of bright stars in the winter sky that, from their point of view, resembled a mighty hunter, which they named Orion. During the summer, they saw another startling pattern of bright stars that resembled a scorpion. They noticed that the constellations of Orion and the Scorpion were positioned at opposite ends of the sky and were never seen in the sky simultaneously. As one constellation rose above the eastern horizon, the other was setting below the western horizon, and when either one was high in the sky, the other was completely absent. The ancient Greeks felt compelled to explain this phenomenon by making up a story based on the two constellations.

The story was that Orion was a mighty and proud hunter who was stung by a scorpion. Orion died of the scorpion's sting and was placed among the stars by the gods. Although the scorpion was destroyed by the gods in vengeance for killing Orion, it was also placed among the stars. In order to prevent Orion and the scorpion from quarrelling and fighting with each other in the sky, the gods placed Orion and the Scorpion at opposite ends of the sky, and in opposite seasons, so that both of them can never be seen in the sky at the same time.

Tell ya what, I’ve looked at both Orion and Scorpius, and as much as I've tried, they still don’t look like anything ‘cept a bunch of stars. Maybe if someone would shut all the other stars off and just left those two groups shining, we’d see 'em better. But I don’t think that’s gona happen any time soon, ‘cause nobody knows where the light switch is.

While watering my deck tomatoes today I remembered a trick Lou told me ‘bout when I’d go with her to the Gardens of Southfork. To help tomatoes get through periods of drought during the Dog Days of Summer, take flat rocks and place ‘em close next to each plant. The rocks pull up water from under the ground and keep it from evaporating into the air. It works. Lou had really big and really good tomatoes every year. Most all the rocks at Southfork are flat, and there’s a lot of flat rocks at Southfork. ‘Course that stuff from the barn they put in the dirt around the tomatoes plants didn’t hurt either. For sure have to put that stuff in the dirt before the rocks are put down, 'cause it won’t work on top of rocks.

As this beautiful summer day dissolves into twilight on it’s singular journey into the darkness of history, the 2girldogs, Sophia, 1wife, 1Spike are either asleep or rapidly getting ready to go there, this day has been good, and like all days, a special gift from God.

Stay safe in Afghanistan.

From the East Wing, On July 4th, , Julius Caesar &The Month of Brutus, Doing July Stuff, Looking At The Sun, Dog Days, Orion & Star Lore, The Flat Rocks of Southfork

I wish you well,
BobbyRay

From the East Wing with The Spike Rules, Gulf Cost Psychics, Al Gore And The Psychic Masseuse,Filing The Claims, Midsummer Day

2010-06-27T15:49:00.000-07:00

Greetings to all, and welcome new friends to the East Wing.

The little boy cat, Spike, has grown to the point where I've had to develop rules of decorum to ensure he takes his rightful place in the Family of Howard. Like all kids, give ‘em an inch and they’ll take a mile. It was with that thought in mind when I created what we now call the “Spike Rules of The East Wing”.

1. You are not the leader of the animal kingdom in the East Wing.
2. Dog tails are not kitten toys.
3. Never antagonize a dog weighting 40 lbs when you weigh 1 lb.
4. Being unable to type, you have no need to walk across the computer keyboard, ever.
5. Being unable to read music, you have no business walking across the piano keys, ever.
6. Movement on a computer screen does not call for paw striking.
7. Whining will get you no where in life.
8. Drinking half & half for breakfast is not a constitutional right.
9. Everything that is not attached does not have to be slapped around.
10. Older dogs don't always want to play with you.
11. Just because you can pick it up with your mouth doesn’t mean you have to carry it away.
12. Dining room tables are for the exclusive use by people.
13. Dogs do not like it when cats walk in their food.
14. There is never a need to stick paws under the bathroom door.
15. Dogs never want to share plate licking with cats.
16. Litter boxes are for activities other than throwing kitty litter out on the basement floor.
17. Curtains are not climbing poles for kittens.
18. House plants are not toys to play with.
19. Sophia is not an illegal alien who needs to be deported.
20. Feet never present any threat of bodily harm and should never be attacked suddenly under a table.
21. Never pull at shoe strings. Their purpose is not a challenge to be untied by cats.
22. Walking is an accepted mode of transportation inside the house.
23. Bigger cats can and will control your life, and will do so until such time you are bigger than them.
24. Never climb bare human legs.
25. Cats do not have servants.
26. There is no such thing as kitten immunity.
27. The small watering bowl is for you, the large watering bowl is for the 2girldogs, not vice versa.
28. Never lick a person’s nose while they sleep.
29. The 2girldogs are not ganging up on you.
30. Unlike ancient Egypt, cats are not considered Gods in the East Wing.

It’s hoped with these simple set of rules, Spike will adapt to family life here in the East Wing and become a productive member of the family. It may take a while, ‘cause Spike’s kinda set in his ways. Once the rules have been finalized, I expect the 2girldogs to let me know of any infractions. The Pup Baby can hardly wait for Spike to mess up, just so he’ll get in trouble. I don’t think the Pup Baby will have to wait too long.

Since Spike’s such a little guy I decided to get him kitten food rather than have him eat the adult cat food like Sophia. Well low and behold, everybody wants to eat Spike’s food, the 2girdogs and Sophia all want to eat the kitten food. The way the 2girldogs and Sophia carried on ‘bout the kitten food, I almost tasted it myself but didn’t, it smelled like all other cat food to me. So I’m glad I didn’t taste.

Had some time a few days ago setting in a lobby waiting my turn and happened to pick up a copy of The Old Farmers Almanac. Did ya ever see any of the Classified Adds in those type books? Just read these examples:
MONICA, GOD-GIFTED PSYCHIC Reunites lovers permanently. Guaranteed! Helps business, marriage, and health. Removes negative energy. Restores peace of mind, happiness. Don’t wait! Call now! Free question! 800-253-0588

MRS. HOPE can help relieve all of life’s problems! Remove evil and bad luck, restores health, reunites lost love. Helps to foresee the future, remove darkness, and put you on the path to success and happiness! 50 years of good results. 706-548-8598

DAMIEN, GOD'S MESSENGER Solves all problems. Reunites lovers, removes curses. Stops cheating, breakups, divorce, jealousy. If you are working with a psychic and unhappy with results. call me. I succeed and get results where others fail. 877-371-9620

MRS. RUTH, Southern-born spiritualist. Removes evil, bad luck. Helps all problems. Free sample reading. 3938 Hwy. 431 South, Eufaula AL 36027. 334-616-6363.

I plucked these 4 little jewels at random from hundreds listed, page after page, in the book. The more I read these things the more I realized that right here before my are eyes are the keys to resolve all the world issues we face today.

Take MONICA, GOD-GIFTED PSYCHIC, now she is the one person alive who can handle the problems facing Al Gore. People thought he had problems when his global warming thing turned out to be a bunch of lies and crap made up to paint doom and gloom for big bucks. Now this wife dumps him, well MONICA, GOD-GIFTED PSYCHIC to the rescue. Her specialty, saving marriages, guaranteed, and Al Gore’s good as new. But with the latest word ‘bout Al Gore, it seems he’s more interested in other things than marriage saving by a psychic. Now what this “Sex Poodle” needs is a psychic who’s also a masseuse and he’d have the best of both worlds. Talk ‘bout having your cake and eating it too. I don’t know ‘bout you, but to me Al Gore never looked much like a Sex Poodle. To me he just kinda looked like a big slug.

But the one that really stuck out from the rest, and I can’t for the life of me see how the Obama People missed this one, Mrs. Ruth the Southern-born spiritualist, living right there in Alabama. Mrs. Ruth helps all problems, you’d think they’d get her to fix the oil leak. Had Mrs. Ruth been on this case from the onset the oil leak would not have even made national news on day one. There wouldn’t have been a day two, and we’d all be better off. Just another example of how they missed the boat on this thing.

The first year the Internal Revenue Service Code allowed credit for first time home buyers, some 25% of those claims turned out to be fraudulent. They didn’t buy a house, just wanted the money. I expect that the amount of fraudulent claims on this BP 20 billion $ fund is going to exceed anything ever experienced in our society. I understand there has already been more claims filed from Mississippi than the total number of people living in the state.

It would not surprise me if ½ of the people living south of the Canadian Border and east of the Rocky Mountains file claims for damage. We’re sure it’s gona impact the East Wing, but still trying to figure out how much. The 2girldogs are working out the details of our claim. Since it’s President Obama’s BP Billions we figured that with the 2girldogs being good democrats and all, we’d be more apt to get more from the pie than if Sophia done the paperwork. After all when ya look at the facts of this President, it Chicago Style handouts. In Chicago it’s always based on who you know, not what ya need.

And what ‘bout that Congressman from Texas apologizing to BP for those other stupid congressmen asking such questions. It’s no wonder that we the people are so fed up with the crap in Washington that both parties are running scared toward November mid term elections, and running scared they should be, a pox on both their houses. It would not surprise me to see the largest political shift in the history of the country come November.

I ran across some interesting facts ‘bout the oil spill, and the President’s efforts to shut down all drilling in the Gulf of Mexico. Of course oil gushing from the sea floor is a massive problem to deal with, but a worse oil spill from a blown out well in deep water happen several years off the cost of Mexico, and that one didn’t even make our news sources. We didn’t give a damn, ‘cause the oil didn’t come to Alabama.

To put things into some perspective, the Mississippi River dumps more water into the Gulf of Mexico in 38 seconds than the total volume of oil spilled so far. In one day the Mississippi River will dump more pollutants into the Gulf of Mexico than the oil spill so far.

Our Federal Government has received offers of assistance from some 13 countries who have dealt successfully with deep water oil spills. Not one offer, not one, has been accepted. Many other nations have dealt with oil spills and have been successful in cleaning it up, and yet this President refuses to allow any other country’s ships into the Gulf of Mexico to help clean up the mess. There are over 1000 oil skimming ships world wide, there are 22 in the Gulf of Mexico. It just don’t make sense to me why they aren’t all on the job over the oil spill. Dragging feet on this one may turn out to be the biggest political blunder in the history of earth.

A presidential commission has been established to determine the cause of this disaster and make recommendations for the future. Not a single person on the commission has any experience or working knowledge of the oil industry. Only one person has any type of scientific background, and it’s in a totally unrelated field.

Most of the commission members have stated public positions in opposition to the use of fossil fuel such as oil or coal. It appears the selection of commission membership is designed to control outcome of the commission report, not fix the problem. Still smells like the “Chicago way of doing business”.

Much has been said ‘bout the President’s unilateral decision to halt drilling in the Gulf for six months. There are 33 such drilling rigs out there, off shore, under the control of federal law. Did ya know there’s over 3,600 other oil and gas platforms out in the Gulf that aren’t under the control of our federal laws.

Now if I were gona bet, I’d bet that if the President should ask those folks to shut down the platforms, out there in the Gulf of Mexico, well, they may have recommendations of their own for the President. I don’t think many of those other 3,567 or so oil platforms are interested in the President’s political agenda, and if not, sure would be hard to get ‘em to stop doing their thing just “cause he asked ‘em to. ‘Bout as much chance to get that accomplished as getting Sophia to be the President’s Campaign Manager next time around. The cat read that one from the back of my chair, and fell off backwards to the floor.

Speaking of Sophia, she’s spending her days outside acting like hunter cats of old. Every morning if it’s not raining she goes out with Pup Baby at ‘bout 5:00AM or so. The difference is Pup Baby comes back inside in ‘bout 10 minutes, not Sophia, she stays out most all day. By the time I get home she’s ready to come back inside. And she always has stories to tell. The things that cat says , I don’t know whether to believe her or not. But I sure like the way that cat smiles when she tells stories.

Did ya ever hear ‘bout Midsummer Day? The name is kinda misleading ‘cause it occurs on June 24th, not in the middle of summer. It’s what we think of as halfway between the planting and harvesting of crops. Simply put, it’s the middle of the growing season. Midsummer Day is also the feast day of St. John The Baptist.

In pagan times they had wild parties, bonfires, fire walking and carnivals for Midsummer Eve. For sure was a night of magic and soothsaying. It was Washington Irving who said, “this is a time when it is well known all kinds of ghosts, goblins, and fairies become visible and walk abroad." Midsummer Eve.

After Midsummer Day, the days shorten. A Lithuanian old wives tale is the dew on Midsummer Day will make young girls beautiful and old people look younger. It was also thought that walking barefoot in the dew would keep one's skin from getting chapped. It was customary to honor all men named John on this day by fixing wreaths of oak leaves around their doors. This is usually done in secret, and John must guess who did it or catch the person in the act, in which case he must give the person a treat. Kinda sounds like Halloween in the summer time. That’d be kinda cool, probably more fun to go trick or treat in the summer time.

Thank you so much for your East Wing visit this first Sunday of Summer. As always we have enjoyed your company so much and look forward to seeing you again from the keyboard to the screen.

Stay safe in Afghanistan

From the East Wing with The Spike Rules, Gulf Cost Psychics, Al Gore And The Psychic Masseuse,Filing The Claims, Midsummer Day.

I wish you well.
BobbyRay

From the East Wing, In the Hospital, 2happygirldogs, Turkey Bacon, Frogs in pockets, And Lightning Bugs

2010-06-20T19:55:00.000-07:00

Greetings to all, and welcome new friends to the East Wing.

Ya know what I love ’bout living in a little town? Everybody knows your name. Ya know what I hate ‘bout living in a little town? Everybody knows your name. Seems I heard somewhere that every little town has it’s ups and downs, but mostly the ups outnumber the downs. And so it is with my little town of North Judson, mostly the ups outnumber the downs. I love living in North Judson.

A case in point being a couple weeks ago I had some medical problems which required a few days in the hospital to resolve the issues. Well, I'm telling ya within 24 hrs after I'm admitted to the hospital, more people would not have known even if my admission to the hospital had been filmed and ran on the 10 o’clock news. Living in North Judson is like going to “Cheers” each day, where everybody knows your name.

It was interesting to be a patient in a hospital, I’d never been a hospital patient before. Upon my arrival home I decided to share my experiences as a patient with the hospital administrator. It was a fun letter to write, and today since I’m kinda too lazy talk with my fingers, I'm gona share that letter with you.

-0-
Thor Thordarson
President/CEO
La Porte Regional Health System
1007 Lincolnway
La Porte, IN 46350

Mr. Thordarson,

I was a patient at the La Porte Hospital, admitted the morning of June 8th, and discharged mid afternoon June 10th 2010.

Be assured this letter is not criticism of any aspects of the hospital operation. As a former hospital administrator myself, and having done hospital consulting work in the past, I thought it would only be appropriate that I share with you some of my thoughts and observations on the operational aspects of your hospital.

In all reality you, as the CEO, are never in a position to observe the true functionally of your hospital from the view point of an anonymous patient. I was. As a result of such experiences I choose to share some of my thoughts and comments with you. Such thoughts and comments are on staff, both professional and non-professional, medical staff, facility, and processes.

Hospital Staff: The limited contact with the housekeeping and custodial staff was very positive. The housekeeping staff was most courteous and pleasant. The housekeeping staff preformed their duties in a manner which I would consider to be beyond any possible level of criticism. Overall the hospital appeared to be spotless and clean, again kudos to those staff employees that all too often are not given their due credit for a job well done. I thank them all.

The CNA Staff is as well trained as I have ever had the pleasure of observing. Whatever the training program in place is working for this hospital, and the end product is visible at the patient contact level. Thank you CNA Staff .

My medical issue was such that I required a substantial amount of contact with the registered nurses. The RN’s I came in contact with were totally professional in every aspect. Not having contact with every RN on the hospital staff, I can only conclude that those I did meet were a true sample of the total nursing staff quality of this hospital. I commend the Registered Nurses for their quality patient care. With that being said, one Registered Nurse, Chris Bowmar, 3rd floor, stood out in my mind for her efforts to provide me the patient care level that may best be illustrated by reviewing the “classical patient care portion” of any School of Nursing. I thank the Registered Nursing Staff for taking care of me.

The dietary department staff were most courteous and friendly people. They too demonstrate proper training and skills to deal with the patient contact necessary to do their job. Thank you Dietary Department, you fed me when I was hungry.

All other departments with whom I had contact, they too demonstrated a high level of professional pride in performance of their job duties. The Lab, X-ray, and the Special Procedures Staff served me well at a time when I needed help the most. I thank them all.

One interesting observation is that from the Medical Staff point of view, the Medical Staff relationship with, as well as views on, Administration have not changed from the time I left Hospital Administration as a profession.

From the patient point of view, the admission process from private citizen to captivated patient, was quick and simple “nursing hands” were on me within seconds of my arrival on floor.

The dismissal process was excruciating slow. Once a patient has been informed by their doctor that they can go home, “the clock starts ticking”. The shorter the final time on that clock, the better the patient is being served. There are several areas of patient care activity that are timed and are critical in achieving the overall goal. From the doc’s ok to go home, to standing on the sidewalk would be an interesting time study.

During this dismissal process I was offered an “optional” (up sale?) pneumonia shot. I opted for the shot. Was told I was all ready to go home just as soon as the pharmacy delivered the pneumonia shot. Some 40 minutes later, I walked to the nursing station to opt out of the optional shot just so I could go home. While making my case for opting out, the shot arrives and all’s well. An interesting comment was heard at that point, “a lot of people turn these shots down just like you were doing, and I don’t know why the pharmacy takes so long to get these pneumonia shots to the floor”.

The bed in room 3216 is an old Hill Rom unit with the single worst mattress I’ve ever had the misery of laying on. The first night at the hospital my thoughts were on life and death, not comfort. As my survival chances improved, my comfort concerns increased. That second night, the bed won. I spent the second night in a reclining lounge chair. With various iv’s and units of blood running through out the night, the reclining lounge chair served me well.

I would almost swear that when I finally did leave that room 3216, while riding one of the “ Dismissal Chariot of the Gods”, I saw that old Hill Rom Bed smile and say “I’ve won again”.

Thor, I’ve taken way too much of your time this day, but thought you may enjoy viewing a different prospective of your hospital operation, one from inside the bed. Oh, by the way, your hospital does look the same as when a patient is wheeled down the hospital hallway on TV.

Please convey my heartfelt appreciation to the total hospital staff along with the medical staff for the services they all provided at my time of most need.

I wish you well,
BobbyRay
-0-

One of the things discovered at the body shop was the diagnosis of diabetes. Oh well, small price to pay for what might have been. Diabetes we can take in stride. A little change in routines, eating habits and such and don’t sweat the small stuff, and all’s well. I think the last time I saw a doctor, Kennedy was President, it’d been a while.

Had an interesting conversation with one of the docs during the initial exam phase of the hospital stay. He said “how come you waited so long?” I said “ thought I’d get better”. He said “you were wrong”. I said “Ya know what, I reached that same conclusion, that’s why I’m here”. We got along, that doc and I, we told stories.

He told me ‘bout his childhood in India, I told him ‘bout growing up in Toto. He’d been to Toto, I hadn’t been to India. From the sounds of things there, don't plan on going any time soon. Lots of people have hard lives in India. Such hard lives, we can’t even start to comprehend the misery.

Boy, were the 2girldogs along with Sophia and Spike ever glad to see me come home. Sophia even made it a point come sit in my lap with Spike. Then meowed in my ear “I hate Spike” I sat in the floor with the 2girldogs for a long time. We hugged, me and the 2girldogs. Sophia got jealous and crowded her way into the circle. It’s hard not to let a Calico Cat into your circle when she meows to you in Spanish, and lays the Sophia Smile on ya.

Today is Father’s Day. To fathers everywhere, happy day. It's the 100th anniversary of Fathers Day. First celebrated on June 19, 1910, and a hundred years later, here we’re still doing it, so I guess it caught on.

Seems a lady in Spokane Washington, a Mrs. Dodd, got the idea while listening to a Mother’s Day Sermon in 1909, and thought if the ladies, why not the men. She proposed to the Spokane Ministerial Association and the YMCA that they celebrate a “father’s day.” The very first Father’s Day was observed on June 19, 1910, in Spokane, and soon other towns had their own celebrations for fathers day, at first not all on the same day, but soon established as the third Sunday in June every year. But Father’s Day didn’t become a permanent national holiday until 1972.

Fathers Day is like all other holidays in the since there are always special “sales” just for that special day. That’s a bunch of crap. Just another way to push the product, no matter what the product. Sales are sales. Last week I counted over 30 emails on business email account wanting to sale me something special for fathers day.

One of the little changes in the way of doing things ‘round East Wing is drinking Diet Pop (for the rest of the world outside Indiana, that’s diet soda). Those little 8oz cans of Diet 7UP, it don’t get any better than that. But once in a while I’ll bump up against something that’s not right, just plain not right.

Turkey Bacon is one such thing. Ya gotta be damn tough to eat Turkey Bacon for breakfast. Me and the she decided I’m not that tough, so the ole Turkey Bacon has yet to find a home in the East Wing. Now somewhere between heaven and hell there’s a place for Turkey Bacon. I’m not wanting to condemn anything to hell, but I’ll say one thing for sure, Turkey Bacon is not manna come down from heaven. Turkey Bacon YAAUH !

The little boy cat Spike thinks he’s made out of Velcro. When he wants on the couch or chair or bed or curtain, he just runs and jumps as high as he can, with all four feet sticking out and he sticks fast, then climbs the rest of the way up. Don’t need any mountain climbing gear, no ropes, no eye hooks, no hammer, no nothing, just claws and enough cat guts to jump. And that little boy has all the cat guts he needs to jump.

Much the same as when little boys putting frogs in their pocket just to turn loose on sisters later. I still remember what it feels like to have a frog in my pocket. One time I forgot and left the frog in my pocket overnight, scared the crap out of me when I put on my pants the next day. I thought it might be a snake in my pocket. I took those pants off real quick and beat my pants with my shoe. When I was sure I’d killed the snake I turned my pants inside out real careful like and shook ‘em and from a pocket out fell a frog leg. Oh well, the frog should have said something. But it sure scared me. I think that was the last time I had a frog in my pocket. Ya don’t get warts from frogs ya know, but they’ll sure pee on ya if ya squeeze ‘em very much, but ya won’t get warts, ‘cause I’ve picked up a bunch, and no warts.

Summer so close ya can smell it, 7:48AM Monday, June 21, 2010, that’s the official start of summer. But ya know what, I think it started sooner this year, ‘cause last Thursday just after dark, the lightning bugs came by, now I don't care who ya are, when the lightning bugs come by, that’s summer time. Welcome lightning bugs. Welcome summer, I’m glad you’re both here.

Thank you for spending this last Sunday of Spring for 2010, this Fathers Day Holiday in the East Wing. As always the pleasure of your company exceeds my ability to put thoughts to fingers to make words on computer screens around the world. We’re so glad ya came by this warm almost summer evening.

Stay safe in Afghanistan.

From the East Wing, In the Hospital, 2happygirldogs, Turkey Bacon, Frogs in pockets, And Lightning Bugs.

I wish you well,
BobbyRay

From The East Wing, With The Little Trochilidae, Pup Baby's Email, Sophia Clinton & Gore, Bug Off, The Rains of Spring

2010-06-13T19:11:00.000-07:00

Greetings to all, and welcome new friends to the East Wing.

Just like clockwork, the Little Brown Eyed Friend of Mine, the hummingbird, came back to visit the East Wing. The online information indicated hummingbirds would be in Northern Indiana around the end of May so I put out the two hummingbird feeders on May 31st. Barely had time to get back to the East Wing, and there she was having an early lunch. Sometimes she eats sa much as 200 times an hour. Most every time I look out to the feeders she’s there eating. Guess that little hummingbird just likes hillbilly cooking.

Now for you folks more tuned into the scientific world, she’s known as : Kingdom: Animalia, Phylum: Chordata Class: Aves, Order: Apodiformes, Family: Trochilidae. But to me she's just the Little Brown Eyed Friend of Mine. It’s so much more fun to have a hummingbird in your yard than a Trochilidae.

That little girl bird picked up right where she left off when she went south for the winter last year. She'd not been in the yard two days and when I came home from work, the little boyfriend was there too. All girls end up with boyfriends and hummingbirds are like that too, yeah they are. She came to the East Wing Window within the first hour after I put out the feeders. She hovers, looks at me and flies away back to the feeder. Pretty little thing, that Trochilidae.

I think the Little Brown Eyed Friend of Mine is making a nest in the Maple Tree directly above the feeders. It seems every time I see her come to eat, she descends from the tree, and when finished takes the elevator back up. Hope the nest is in the maple, never seen one before.

Boy, did Mustina, the Pup Baby, ever get the email last week, along with the Gray Lady. The 2girldogs topped Sophia the Republican Cat in emails received for the first time ever. Course the 2girldogs were as happy as can be and Sophia was fit to be tied for two or three days.

She claimed the 2girldogs email was just the sympathy vote for Pup Baby almost dying, and the Ladies email was just ‘cause she stayed by her baby. The truth being know, Sophia didn’t live at the East Wing at that time of the tribulation , so I don’t know how she’d have reacted to such tough times, the night of the Long Night or the second night when The Thunder Rolled. Had she been there I’d bet she'd have a different story tell.

When Sophia heard more bad news ‘bout the presidents men offering more jobs to people if they wouldn’t enter democratic primaries, she got real happy real quick. With a smile on her face and chuckle in her meow, Sophia said “Chicago Politics, it’s the Dailey Way, and after all the President’s a homeboy ya know”

Sophia was glad the President went to the Gulf and said the oil leak was his fault but don’t blame him, ‘cause after all it’s really Bush’s fault. According to Sophia the President said he was gona kick ass ‘cause they couldn’t stick a plug in it. Sophia wanted to tell him where to stick the plug but the Gray Lady intervened and promised bodily harm if she went there. Sophia walked the line, didn’t step over, just walked the line. The cat’s a high wire walker in Calico. I love to watch her smile as she walks that line.

A no win situation for us all, an open oil well in the Gulf of Mexico and nobody can stop it. Not the President, not the army, nothing in the Federal Government can do a thing except talk. The total technology to deal with this disaster lies solely with BP, and no matter how the President tries to convince us otherwise he too is a spectator. Unlike us, he has a front row seat. Maybe the only time in this life where he wished he had the back row seat.

Being unable to stop that oil flow, and an unknown volume underground, it’s a good thing they didn’t drill any deeper, else they’d have let out the devil himself. From the live cameras at the bottom of the ocean, maybe they have.

Sophia’s spent last two weeks working daily on her Tea Cat Project. I’m surprised at the number of email addresses she’s received asking to get on her mailing list. I think in retaliation for being put on the White House email list when garnering support for the health care bill, she’ll return the favor.

Sophia’s been to Chicago a couple times lately, the South Side of Chicago. To her old neighborhood, where she ran the Cat House. She still insists she thinks the President was at her cat house when he was a community organizer in Chicago, but can’t say for sure ‘cause the all look alike, those community organizers. Said she’s up there on business, came home as the official spokescat for the CCCC.

As Sophia traveled ‘round the country she accepted several offers to become the official spokescat for an ever increasing voice of opposition to the current political atmosphere sweeping across the country. As the winds of political change start to gather, Sophia now becomes the official spokescat for CCCC (Chicago Calico Cat Conference) as well as the ACCA (Arizona Calico Cat Association)

I had an interesting conversation with Sophia prior to her trip to Arizona. One day just out of the blue, she asked me I thought she looked Mexican. I asked why, said she’s lost her passport and didn’t want to take the time to find it in all her cat crap stuff before she went to Arizona. Told her ya don’t need passports to go to Arizona. Said she better take it just in case. I told her she didn’t look too Mexican, but be sure not to meow in Spanish or tell anybody her middle name is Guadalupe. That cat’s so pretty when she smiles in Spanish.

From there she went to California to meet with the a liberal cat group interested in becoming more politically active in their opposition to some of the recent laws passed by neighboring states. She introduced herself as Sophia Guadalupe, as she meowed in Spanish. She’s not yet heard back from those California Cats, but I expect she’ll get their spokescat job too. One thing I'll say for that humble little cat, she’s persistent in her undertakings, and had a great deal of flexibility in her view points, when the money’s right. Money talks, even to Calico Cats. Now she’s starting to meow like Bill Clinton and Al Gore.

For some folks the down sides of late spring and the upcoming summer are the BUGS!! On the other hand ya gotta admit that if ya look at the little fellers real close, I mean real, real close, they’re pretty impressive creatures. It’s almost a shame to smash those little complex creatures of God, but we do, and never blink an eye.

Will never forget the very first time I looked at bugs under a microscope. Not a very good microscope mind you, but the best one in Toto when I was a kid. I found out ‘bout a compound eye up close. Bugs and grasshoppers up close were monsters waiting for movies to be made. And so they were, the monster movies, THE FLY, THE ATTACH OF THE GIANT ANTS, and I’m sure there were others but those two come to mind right off. They didn’t scare me too much, I’d seen ‘em up close before.

Interesting creatures, those insects. I fully believe every life form on this planet is here for a purpose. It’s damn hard to figure out the purpose for some of ‘em. Another way to look at the bugs, wanta see a dinosaur, just hunt up a cock roach. Unchanged design for 60 million years and counting.

But the way ya look at it don’t matter, ‘cause they’re awfully annoying to many people. After getting bit by a mosquito the other evening, I decided to take ‘em on, after all last year I did win the War of the Hornet Nation, so mosquitoes would be a cakewalk.

Now if you’re gona cook outside and cook like a real man, and use charcoal and not be a wimp and use gas, then put a little sage or rosemary over coals to repel mosquitoes. It works. I used to cook out like a real man and use charcoal and put rosemary and sage on the charcoal, but now I cook like the wimps and us gas and swat the mosquitoes, or pollute the air by doing the spray can thing.

Here at the East Wing, we plant basil in pots all over the outside decks as part of the mosquito abatement program. Rubbing the skin with baby oil or imitation vanilla extract repels biting insects such as mosquitoes and black flies. Somebody told me that one time and I laughed at ‘em.

A long time ago I had a Bat House, don’t remember what ever happened to it. Did ya know that one small brown bat can eat as many as 600 mosquitoes in one hour? But I think that’s the one that comes in your house when you’re sleeping and bites your neck. OH, now I remember why I had to get rid of my Bat House. I told her those marks on her neck were just hickeys. She didn’t buy into that hickey deal and said she got bit by a bat and it was either her or the Bat House.

I miss that Bat House. I wonder if she would’ve just worn turtle neck pajamas. I think she got bit by mosquitoes missed by my bat. Maybe I should have gotten another Bat House for even better mosquito control, oh well, it’s little late to worry over long gone Bat Houses that could have been. Maybe I'll ask her again ‘bout the Bat House, she may have forgotten.

Now some people swear garlic works and swallow slivered garlic to ward off these bugs of summer. Some nuts ever take garlic tablets or rub garlic juice directly on their skin. Now I’m telling ya, with the amount of Italians I live with and the amount of garlic these people eat, well there wouldn’t be mosquitoes in Starke County Indiana. They are, so garlic must not work for that. I’ve even heard of people making a past of smashed garlic for bee stings, also heard people do radish juice for bee stings.

There are some neat flowering plants that tend to control bugs and insects, things like marigolds, chrysanthemums, asters, and pyrethrum daisies, along with herbs such as basil, anise, and coriander, are planted on the East Wing Decks every year. But the best way to really control mosquitoes is to drain the pond. Dump out all standing water from everything. When they can’t find water at your house, they'll go find water at your neighbor’s house, and your problem’s solved.

Years ago when I was going to repaint my house, had a fellow at the paint store tell me to add a few drops of citronella to each gallon of the paint to keep the bugs off the wet paint, it works. The citronella won't affect the paint, but it will keep the bugs from being stuck in your fresh paint job. I hate when that happens.

I just happen to remember this little ditty ’bout mosquitoes. Y know that annoying, high-pitched buzzing sound of a mosquito hovering around your head at night, it’s most likely made by a girl mosquito looking for a boyfriend. Mosquitoes mate in midair, (which is kinda cool) then the girl mosquito flies off to drink blood to nourish her eggs, and oh yeah it’s gona be your blood, that night when ya heard the buzzing. Ya don’t hear ‘em buzz when they bite your neck.

As I read of the devastating flash flood in Arkansas early last Friday Morning round 3:30 AM killing a yet untold number, it sent chills down my spine. I witnessed a flash flood one time, way up in the mountains. Saw the water rise more than 50ft in less than 5 minutes. Thank God I was still more than 50ft from the water and in a position to climb higher on the mountain if need be. Nothing more powerful than running water. It can move mountains, and does.

I’ve had several emails asking why I no longer say “stay safe in Iraq” at the end of the letters. No one in Iraq is reading stories from the East Wing. Truth is all the military men and women who visited the East Wing each Wednesday have been either sent home or, in some instances, just moved to a different war, that being Afghanistan. Prayers still need there for the safety of the people in harms way in that war. And so they’re offered.

Not the best weekend weather ever, but watching the storm roll through late Saturday Afternoon was special. That's what so neat ‘bout the East Wing, ya can set out in the storm and not get wet.

Thank you for sharing your time this late Spring Sunday in June. We enjoy your company so much. Summer will be here before we know it, just 8 days. I think that was a Beetles Week, that 8 days.

Stay safe in Afghanistan

From the East Wing, With The Little Trochilidae, Pup Baby’s Email, Sophia Clinton & Gore, Bug Off, The Rains of Spring

I Wish You Well
BobbyRay

From The East Wing, Me And My Mama Singing In The Rain, Mustina And The Body Snatchers

2010-05-30T16:18:00.000-07:00

Greetings to all, and welcome new friends to the East Wing.

A couple weeks ago I kept looking forward to the weekend weather, every day the weather report kept saying just you wait till the weekend. I could hardly wait. After all its summer time, ‘cause it started Sunday the week before with putting up the flag up and all, and I wear shorts in the summer time.

It rained Wednesday, Thursday and Friday of that week. I wore my short paints in the rain on Friday when I took my mama to lunch at Richards of Toto. Mama laughed at me and told our server I was half naked. We got soaked in the rain. It’s fun to get soaked in the rain with your mama. My wish for the world is everybody gets soaked in the rain once every May with their Mama.

Come that Saturday Morning, I’m ready for a really great weather day. It starts out cloudy, not cold, but cool at 56° when I woke up. The weather is ok for shorts. Almost raining, but not quite, but almost. I only stayed at my office for a couple hours that Saturday, decided if it’s gona be a cloudy day, I’d go home and play with Pup Baby James. When I get home the Pup Baby was asleep, so was Gray Lady James as well as Sophia

It was easy to tell the girls were excited ‘bout me coming home early, each opened one eye and went back to sleep. But I did see Sophia grin a little bit. I don’t think she went back to sleep, maybe she just took a little cat nap. Now Pup Baby, Mustina, she snores, I’m telling ya, this little dog sometimes snores when she sleeps. When she does, I push on her side and she quits. I think Mustina’s snoring stems from her heart worm infestation from several years back. Don’t know if I told ya ‘bout the Pup Baby the body snatchers.

It all started as just routine part of Mustina’s semiannual check at the doggy doctor office where they all go twice a year. The routine included testing for heart worms. Having administered medication every month from 6 months forward to prevent heart worms, the thought never crossed my mind we’d ever have to deal with that Dog Angel of Death. We had to deal.

The blood sample was drawn and we sat in the lobby waiting our lab results me and the 2girldogs, both setting by my side like statues. The doctor came out, sat down, and placed her hand on the Pup Baby’s head and said “Bob, Mustina’s tested positive for heart worms, the Gray Lady’s fine, but not Mustina”. Talk ‘bout a sinking feeling in the bottom of your stomach. My first thought was, it can’t be, I’ve given her medication every month from six months on. The vet said sometimes it just don’t work. She went on to explain.

Heart Worm infestation is 100% fatal if left untreated. The treatment for heart worms is almost as deadly as the heart worms themselves. Many dogs die from the treatment alone. The treatment consists of weighing the dog, based on precise weight, calculate a lethal dose of arsenic. Inject ½ of the total dose into the dog. If the dog is alive exactly 24 hours later inject the other ½ of the arsenic.

The vet explained that if any of the dog’s body filters (liver, kidney, etc.) are not working at 100% efficiency, the dog will die before the second dose can be given. And so it was with that cloud of doom and despair gathering over our heads that I cradled the Pup Baby in my arms as she received ½ of her only chance for life.

They asked if I wanted to leave the Pup Baby at the office, as most people don’t take their pets home after that first shot. The Pup Baby came home with me. If Mustina was to die, she wouldn’t die confined to a wire cage in the still of the night. She would die in the East Wing with me at her side.

On the way home I couldn’t help but think how ironic it was that just a short one hour ago, we were on our way to the routine vet visit, having a great day, and now she’s’ maybe going home to die. By the time we got home I could detect a change in Mustina.

She didn’t jump out of the car when the door opened. She just carefully got down from the seat to the floor then to the ground, always before one leap, seat to the dirt. Not today. She slowly walked to the front door. I live in a house with lots of stairs, three levels of house with stairs everywhere. Mustina didn’t offer to go up the first set of stairs. She simply laid down in the floor of the West Wing. I picked her up and carried Mustina to her couch in the East Wing at the other end of the house. Within two hours I noticed a distinct change in her breathing. In two more hours she didn’t open her eyes, had very pronounced and labored breathing almost gasping for air, not panting like a tired dog, but more like an asthmatic attack in people.

The long night had begun. Sleep nor the thoughts of sleep come to the forefront when ya think your dog’s gona die that night. I sat by the Pup Baby, held her paw, and said her name. She ever so slightly wagged her tail and never opened her eyes. She knew I was there. I cried.

I prayed a lot that night, knowing that inside the Pup Baby the struggle of life and death was being waged. An unseen war of which I had no control, nor input into the decision making process. I’d been relegated to the spectator section, as God and Mustina worked it out. I prayed “God please don’t let my Pup Baby die, but if someone there needs a really good dog, she’s a really good dog”. I took some comfort in the thought that “all good dogs go to Heaven”, ‘cause she is a good dog.

Gray Lady James knew, she just knew there's something wrong, something terribly, terribly wrong with Mustina, her baby. As I carried Mustina to her couch in the East Wing, the Gray Lady got on the other end of the couch and laid beside her. The dogs had not laid on the same couch since Mustina was a little girl. They each have their own couch. That day and night the Gray Lady stayed by her baby and wouldn’t leave her side.

At the normal “let’s go out to pee before we go to sleep” time that evening, Mustina never moved, nor did the Lady. I sat with my 2girldogs throughout the night, wondering if at dawn would there be three or two on the couch. The silence of that long dark night was deafening as biological warfare exploded within the silence of the East Wing, in the still of the night.

Early morning in the East Wing is always a special treat. With sun so bright ya need sunglasses many morning. And so it was that morning of the first day in the war of the heart worms, the Pup Baby was still alive, barely breathing, but still alive. We had to be at the vets office at 4:15 PM, more than 10 hours away. We were not out of the woods on this first day, not by a long shot, but we were over half way through that dark woods. It seemed to me the sun rise gave us hope, at least me and the Gray Lady. Mustina’s eyes remained closed.

Shortly after sunrise the Gray Lady wanted to go outside, Mustina never opened her eyes or wagged her tail, she hardly breathed. I held my dog’s paw and prayed some more. Within minutes the Gray Lady wanted back inside, she went straight to the couch and licked her baby’s nose, and again laid down beside her. The mother had told her baby she was at her side.

It was close to noon that Mustina opened her eyes, weak but open eyes. She looked at me and we still didn’t know. I still held her paw and prayed. By 2:00 O’clock she seemed to breathe differently. I was sure she didn’t sound the same as last night, but was it improvement or the final death thralls played out before my eyes and ears, I didn’t know. Within minutes I had the answer. Mustina opened her eyes, looked at me and we knew she had won the first round. She licked the back on my hand while I held her paw. I hugged my dog, she wagged her tail a little harder this time. At 3:30 the three of us went back to the clinic.

At the vets office Mustina received the last ½ of her life or death. Again the offer to abandon her to spend the night in the clinic was turned down. We’d come too far, me and my 2girldogs to separate us now, not while the Pup Baby’s life still was hanging in the balance, we would not, we could not be separated. Again the vet explained that if during the past 24 hours Mustina’s kidneys and liver had not functioned perfectly, she could very well die within the next 12 hours. She said within 12 hours you’ll have the answer, we’ve done all that can be done for Mustina.

Mustina had walked to the car to come to the vet this afternoon. She and the Gray Lady walked back to the car. By the time we got home, Mustina was in a worse condition than the previous night. As I carried her to the East Wing I told myself it may be for the very last time I hold my Pup Baby alive in my arms.

The feeling of sadness was almost overbearing. The sadness seemed to engulf the sheer heart and soul of the East Wing. It was as if we had walked from the shadow of the valley of death, came ‘round the mountain and stepped back into the shadow, and it was cold. The Gray Lady assumed her spot beside her baby. The Lady on one side, me on the other. We were prepared to stay for however long it took. Once again I held her paw and prayed.

It started to rain that afternoon, late, and as the shades of nighttime closed around the East Wing, the thunder rolled while the lighting walked about. I chose not to turn on the lights. The East Wing would be illuminated by Gods Magic Light Show across the sky and by the yard lights. What would happen would happen in the darkness. With the Lady on one side and me on the other, if Mustina had to go, she would go in the presence of family. And so thusly we sat, awaiting the final outcome, the proclamation of the conqueror, the life or death of Pup Baby James.

It was shortly after 2:00 AM I felt Mustina lick the back of my hand. I got off the couch and turned up the soft lights of the East Wing, looked at Mustina and saw for the first time what she’d said when she’d just licked my hand. The Pup Baby smiled at me and said “I’ve won”.

We hugged, we talked, we petted, we cried, the three of us, me and my 2girldogs. Within an hour Mustina got off the couch, went over to her drinking dish and caught up on the last 36 hours of water drinking. And as my dog drank the essential element of life, it reminded me that I too was thirsty, hungry, sleepy unshaven, unkempt and probably smelly, but the Pup Baby was alive and drinking water. The world was good. God had smiled on the East Wing and brought Mustina home from the brink.

To this day Mustina shows some effects of that experience, she coughs a lot, which is indicative of the lingering effects of that illness. But to have survived two life endangering events, both the Attack of the Badger and The Invasion of the Body Snatchers, it’s the reason the girls at the vet clinic call Mustina“Wonder Dog”, and so she is, my Pup Baby James.

Thank you for sharing your last Sunday in May with us this evening in the East Wing, as usual we so much enjoy you company.

Stay safe in Afghanistan

From the East Wing, Me And My Mama Singing In The Rain, Mustina And The Body Snatchers

I wish you well,
BobbyRay

From the East Wing, With Other Quantum Mechanics, Sophia On TV, Flying the Flag, Skipping Rope, And Passing Out Cows

2010-05-23T18:00:00.000-07:00

Greetings to all, and welcome new friends to the East Wing.

Right up front, I’ve gotta clarify a few things ‘bout Quantum Mechanics, as some people had different ideas of what I’d been talking ‘bout last week. First off, let me make it absolutely clear that these Quantum Mechanics are not, I repeat, are not competitors of Mr. Good Wrench. They’ve never been or will ever will be in the future.

It’s also important to know that Quantum Mechanics are not those mechanics under 5’ 4”. Nor do Quantum Mechanics only work on little tiny cars. There are no Quantum Mechanics Shops in North Judson IN, and I don’t believe one to be anywhere in Starke County. I don't have a telephone or web site where they can be reached in Indiana. Also please note that Quantum Mechanics are not employees of or otherwise associated with PEP BOYS in any way.

And finally, I want to make it perfectly clear there’s no QUANTUM CAR in the NASCAR Series. That statement alone should dispel all rumors ‘bout the Quantum Mechanics that work for NASCAR.

Now with that all being said, if ya still think that the Quantum Mechanics can fix your problems and be of service to ya, and ya don’t want to drive too far, I know they had some Quantum Mechanics at The Ohio State University when I was over there a while back, so ya can call over to Columbus and see if they’re still in business over there, or maybe a better idea is just drive down to West Lafayette and go the Chancellors Office right there on the Purdue Campus. They can surly help ya out. Ya see the Chancellors Office is kinda like the information booth in the mall, only it’s at Purdue and not at the mall. But they know where everything is.

When ya get on campus there at Purdue, ya may just want to ask the first students ya see if they know any Quantum Mechanics, or know where the garage is located. Ya might be surprised, some of those Purdue students might just be Quantum Mechanics, and you’d save a trip to the Chancellors Office. It they’re not, at least they’ll be able to get ya to the Chancellors Office, and they’ll take care of ya there.

Why I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if one of these students ya asked ‘bout Quantum Mechanics, they’d be glad to even take ya right up to the Chancellors Office personally. Those Purdue students are real helpful like that, even the ones that aren’t Quantum Mechanics.

If by chance ya can’t find any Quantum Mechanics at Purdue, ya could always try Indiana University at Bloomington, but they’re a school of a different color. So I’m not sure they’d even have a Quantum Mechanics Garage there. Don’t know for sure what they specialize in down there at Bloomington.

I do know several years ago one of their faculty members taught a class in furniture moving. As I recalled they had an online demonstration, it wasn’t really an on line thing like today, it was a live TV demonstration. That was a little before “on line” came on line. But it was a good knight.

Seems this same faculty member also taught a speech class from time to time. Such classes were taught with special importance being place on local colloquial speech, as I understand from a student who’d attended some classes, the instructor placed particular emphasis on a specific action in reference to ones mother.

After that attack on the GENERAL, I expect to hear lots of whining from Bloomington, but ya gotta remember that’s a school of a different color. I for one was never a fan of Bob Knight. I always considered him a public embarrassment to higher education in State of Indiana. The only thing more embarrassing to me was the fact that Bob Knight came for my alma mater, The Ohio State University.

Last Tuesday evening me Sophia the Republican Cat watched the election primary returns. The cat insisted on Fox News Chanel, I’m thinking she’s gona be disappointed in the results, so I go along and we watch Fox News Chanel. Wow was that ever a mistake. The Tea Party Guy form Kentucky won hands down early in the evening and shortly after Arlen Specter gets his butt kicked after switching from republican to democrat trying to hold on to his senate seat. Sophia laughed and laughed at the defeat of Arlen Specter. Calling him a #@$%$#@&^* *&^&*)(*&^ turncoat anyhow.

Sophia was beside herself, I’m telling ya the cat was smiling ear to ear. She wanted the 2girldogs to do high5’s but the Pup Baby said no way José . It was shortly after the AP Wire Service called the Arlen Specter race that Sophia’s cell phone started to ring. As the national spokescat for the Conservative Calico Cats of America (CCCA) , as well as the spokescat for the NRCCC. (National Republican Calico Cats Conference), Sophia was expected to make a public statement. The cat obliged .

Did ya ever see one of those big ole satellite dishes setting on top of a truck? Two of ‘em showed up in the driveway to do the uplink interview with Sophia the Republican Cat. Those trucks are kinda cool. They’re like a little self contained city almost. Having their own electrical generating system, outdoor lighting, on poles even, and private restrooms. Not those portapotty things, these are the real deal, hand washing facilities and all.

One of the trucks even had a little kitchen with both stove and refrigerator. Not a microwave in site. You would’ve thought they’d have a microwave. They didn't, said cooking microwaves messed up the other stuff in the trucks. And ya know what else ya can do inside those trucks. Watch television! I’m telling ya, ya’d be surprised at how many TV’s are in those trucks. That was the first time I’d ever watched TV inside a truck. I even saw Sophia on TV inside the truck. Sophia looks good on television, even inside a truck. Like Sophia said “When ya got it ya flaunt it” as the cat promenaded.

Didn’t think Sophia would ever stop lauding the virtues of the Kentucky Tea Party, as she turned her best side toward the camera with the little light glowing red on top. “It’s an in your face slap to democrats and republicans alike” Sophia exclaimed as she relished in the bright lights on the tall aluminum poles from inside the big truck. The telescoping light poles reminded me or Ron Popel’s “Pocket Fisherman” just pull ‘em out and you’re in business. Those were such cool trucks. When I was a kid, one of my dreams in life was to drive a Schwan’s Truck. Still is.

Long into the night Sophia played to the camera as only a Republican Calico Cat can do, and lord knows we’ve all seen ‘em play out from time to time. The first one I recall was Thomas Dewey, when he won the presidential election in 1948. I’m sure you’ve seen the photo of President Truman holding up the New York Newspaper with bold headlines blaring “ DEWEY WINS” ! Talk ‘bout an Uh Oh moment.

Almost instantly Sophia became accustom to the lights, and in no time at all she had developed such a fluid delivery of her message as she pranced back and forth between the little lines drawn on the ground as her reference points. Sophia was told by the TV people to stay within the lines so she wouldn’t get out of the camera field of view, and so it was within those little lines drawn in the dirt, the cat danced the night away.

Watching Sophia in front of the TV Cameras reminded me so much of the Television Preachers. Ya just know they had to practice the delivery, the walk, the moves, the body language, the pause for impact of message, the smile, the false expressions of both concern and jubilation, the projection of sincerity.

She had ‘em all, that Calico Republican Cat. Toward the end of Sophia’s air time I’d recognized the talent in her ability to deliver the message. It’s no wonder why she is the spokescat for both the CCCA and NRCCC, this cats got not only the talent but also the hootsba to bring the message home.

Just how persuasive Sophia could be was not demonstrated until after the bright lights were turned off, the plug had been pulled on the satellite link and while the crew was packing their magic back into the trucks with the big dishes on top, Sophia asked that all work be stopped for a brief moment to allow her to thank the crew for coming all the way out in the country to give just a little mild mannered house cat a chance to humbly state her point of view on such major topics of the day.

As the crews stopped their work and gathered around, Sophia preached her gospel. It was such a time, such a time. Jimmy Swaggart would have been proud. Jim Baker would have be envious. Billy Graham would have enjoyed. He’s republican ya know. Oh sure, Calico Cat and all.

And then she hit ‘em. Sophia The Republican Calico Cat asked ‘em all for a small monetary donation to assist either the CCCA or the NRCCC, the donor’s choice. And proposing such donations be in memorial of Calico Cats gone before us. One of the TV Producers, said she only had a $100.00 bill, and no change. As Sophia plucked the hundred dollar bill from her fingers, she said “this is change”. The cat’s got a pompousness ‘bout her that’s hard to ignore. As the last of the big trucks pulled from the yard, Sophia was counting her “love offerings”. The TV Crews left some $1,022.00 lighter than when they arrived. Sophia The Republican Cat had learned the real secret to television evangelism. Get the money. Sophia has the gift.

Sometime last Wednesday Sophia had conversations with the National Tea Party Leaders and it was decided that Sophia would form a support group called the National Tea Cat Association (NTCA)

While telling me of this new endeavor, I could just see the excitement in the cat eyes. When the cat’s in the cradle ya know you’re in for a big time. And this cats in the cradle. I’m sure there’s gona be more coming from the NTCA. Tea Cats?

One of the fun things I look forward every year is putting up our outside flag. This year was not different. We get a new flag every year, me and the1wife. By the end of summer, Old Glory is tired and worn out from so much waving in the wind. It’s a most enjoyable site, looking out the East Wing Windows to the South and seeing the flag, our flag, moving on the wind. At the East Wing we start the summer when the flag goes up. Last Sunday Afternoon ‘bout 2:00 O’clock right outside the East Wing Windows, I started summer. I was happy, I was glad, I love summer. Here comes summer, oh happy days.

If ya stop and think ‘bout what all that flag represents and how many have died for the beliefs that flag stands for, you’ll get shivers, ya just will. And if ya don’t, then maybe you’re part of the problem. Those who tend to ignore the importance of some things just seem to always be on the wrong side of the rope of life. Now I’m not telling ya which side of the rope to be on, don’t misunderstand, I’m just telling ya it’s important to be on the right side of the rope. The challenge in life is to figure out which side is the right side. If ya have any doubt ‘bout where ya are, get on the other side.

Some folks can and some folks can’t and some folks wish they could. Did ya ever learn to skip rope? One of the fun thing ‘bout growing up in a family of girls, ya learned how to skip rope, really, really skip rope. So fast ya could hardly count ‘em. Skip rope on one foot, oh sure. Skip two ropes at the same time, of course. Skip rope blind folded, no, but after getting the rhythm, close your eyes and skip as long as ya wanted and never miss, unless of course the twirlers changed speed. When I was a kid most everybody skipped rope. We skipped rope and played Hop Scotch. And if ya were really good at both, play Hop Scotch and skip rope at the same time. I don’t skip rope now as much as I used to. But I still play Hop Scotch, from time to time.

With all the discussion ‘bout Arizona and ‘bout illegal aliens all over the country, some thoughts come to mind.

A few years back at the height of the “Mad Cow Disease” scare, our Federal Government was able to track the movement of a single 3 year old cow all the way from where she was born outside this country to the exact location of where she was on a farm in the state of Washington. Now I don’t care who ya are, that’s impressive cow tracking at its best.

One of the major problems with illegal aliens, according to our Government, is the inability to locate these 10 – 12 millions illegal aliens in our country. Our Government doesn’t know where they’re at.

Maybe we should just give ‘em all a cow.

This beautiful spring Sunday, has been a glimpse of summer, a promise that will be kept. Your company today had made the this glimpse of summer special to us all. Sophia just reminded me to tell all that she’ll be mailing Tea Cat Membership Applications soon and reminds everyone that a contribution should be included with the completed application . (damn republican cat)

Stay Safe in Baghdad and Afghanistan

From the East Wing, With Other Quantum Mechanics, Sophia On TV, Flying The Flag, Skipping Rope, And Passing Out Cows

I wish you well,
BobbyRay

From the East Wing, With Quantum Mechanics, Ice Saints, Sophia In Arizona, Laboratory Frogs & PLayboy Mansions

2010-05-16T15:28:00.000-07:00

Greetings to all, and welcome new friends to the East Wing.

Quantum Mechanics, did ya ever hear of such things as Quantum Mechanics? Well it’s talking ‘bout how little things work, I mean really, really little things, things ya can’t even see, how those things work. It turns out that even little things we can’t see, they have a particular way of doing business in nature. It’s the way the universe works. It’s the reason the universe works.

Last week I had an opportunity to talk ‘bout Quantum Mechanics with a friend of mine. We neither one fully understand Quantum Mechanics, but we sounded like we did, unless ya knew more ‘bout Quantum Mechanics than we do. It has to do with energy and matter and time and how they all work with each other, and especially the really little bits and pieces that make up that matter part. Kinda cool stuff, that Quantum Mechanics. Can ya just imagine all the matter in the universe condensed to a size of a baseball? Me neither.

We didn’t talk ‘bout that too much when I was a kid in Toto. We just talked ‘bout other things and never got around to that Quantum Mechanics. But I’m sure there were a lot of people in Toto at that time that knew all ‘bout it. Especially the Toto Volunteers, we knew ‘bout a lot of stuff. But I’m not sure if we knew ‘bout Quantum Mechanics then or not. We may have, but not all of us.

It was fun to talk ‘bout photons and electrons, and things even smaller than those, had not done so in a long time, a long time, and it was time to do so again. It was fun, talking ‘bout Quantum Mechanics. Little stuff, really, really little stuff, those protons and electrons. Ya can’t see ‘em but I know ‘bout ‘em, ‘cause they’re everywhere. Everywhere I look, kinda like hillbillies in Starke County.

Did ya feel the chill of winter last Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday Morning? Could’ve been the Ice Saints. Ice Saints? Oh sure, Mamertus, Pancras, and Gervais , these are the names of three Saints of the Catholic Church. Their Saint Days are May 11, 12 13th , and ya know what, almost every year these three or four days are a cold period. Saint Boniface’s Saint Day is May 14th, and he’s also associated with the cold snap of the Ice Saints.

It used to be that farmers wouldn’t plant until after the frost of the Ice Saints had pasted. In Germany this time was known as the Icemen Days. Blackthorn Winds are sometimes associated with the Ice Saints. A few days near mid May when the wind blows cold, almost every year, the Ice Saints cometh.

Oh, the month of May! Named after Maia, the Roman Goddess of spring and growth. May used to be the third month, then somebody jerked around with the calendar and May ended up the fifth month, go figure.

I think it was Jules Cesar, or one of those Caesars’ that jerked around and May ended up fifth. it’s hard to tell with those Caesars’ ‘cause they all look alike. Did ya ever see pictures of those Caesars? They wore bed sheets, even in the day time, which is kinda cool. Sounds like something they still do in San Francisco. Oh there’s some pretty boys out there for sure, bed sheets and all. That San Francisco crowd, Nancy Pelosi’s hometown.

When May comes to Indiana, the world turns green. The cold of winter’s gone and the heat of summer’s not yet come. Stuff starts to grow in May. In fact, it’s hard to keep stuff from not growing in May. The world turns into one Giant Green Thumb when May Days come by.

Grass grows, flowers bloom, trees blossom, forsythia, dogwood, violets, lilacs, jack-in-the-box, lily of the valley, along with that pretty little springtime friend of mine, that pretty little dandelion. Wow! That list could go on and on. Birds are setting on their eggs tucked inside their warm nest come May. Baby birds are just a few days away. My outside cats are looking forward to the baby birds.

May is an important month in the Catholic Church. The month of May is devoted to the Blessed Virgin Mary, Mother of God. Gentle Woman, Mother of God. We can all learn from gentle women.

Kentucky Derby, Cisco De Moy, Mothers Day, BobbyRay’s Birthday, Indianapolis 500, Memorial Day, are some of the biggies in the month of May. Now there’re some lesser know but just as important special days in May, such things as International Respect for Chickens Month, National Skin Care Awareness Month Better Hearing and Speech Month (Think I could use both of those) National Duckling Month.

I think there should be an National Hillbilly Awareness Month, but I don’t know any Hillbillies to be aware of. Yeah, right.

Now I don’t know ‘bout you but that International Respect for Chickens Month is not real popular with most people I know. I guess it’s just hard to demonstrate a lot of respect for chickens. Especially if ya go to Richards of Toto on Sunday for a Chicken Dinner, like my mama does every Sunday. I don’t eat much chicken, my mama eats enough for both of us. But I do collect ‘em.

Got ‘bout 15 or 20 ceramic chickens, both inside and outside. Some big, some little, Pretty chickens all. More boy chickens than girl chickens, but just enough to keep everybody happy. And everybody knows that a happy chicken is like starting your day in the sunshine. Almost forgot, I got a couple stone chickens. Think ‘bout it, ya want to see something funny, “a stoned chicken. A stoned chicken is that gift that keeps on giving.

Last Thursday Sophia got back from Arizona, been out there in support of their new law on illegal aliens.
She said that over 75% of the people in Arizona support the law, the other 25% are the illegal aliens. They’re against it. DUH !

Heard an interesting exchange the other day on C-Span, the Attorney General was before a subcommittee, and when he was asked if he had read the Arizona Law which he had criticized on national television a few days back. He said no, he had not, he had concluded his opinion from the news media coverage which he took to accurately reflect the law in question. It turns out that even those most vocal in opposition haven’t read the law. The President didn’t and he criticized the law. The Attorney General of the United States didn’t. It seems hardly anybody has read the law, just jumped on the band wagon. Lemmings marching to the sea, wow, wonder who’s the piper?

The people of Arizona read the law, and loved it. I read the law. It’s less than a dozen pages, simple and very straight forward, easy to understand. One thing I found interesting was with all the volumes of opposition to that law, there were no links in any of the opposition statements on the internet allowing a simple click and read and let we the people decide and make up our minds on the issue.

Ya gotta go to the Arizona Government Web Site to find a copy of the law. It ya read it ya may be surprised. I was. I do expect to see many more states enact a very similar law. I wonder if there’s some sort of racial profiling going on in Washington DC. Is the Federal Government in Washington profiling the citizens of the State of Arizona? Is the state of California racially profiling the citizens of Arizona.? I wonder if the State of California has any problems with illegal aliens. Maybe they should ask those bed sheet people in San Francisco ‘bout illegal aliens in California. Didn’t the Governor out there used to be an alien? That’s probably why they don’t have any illegal alien problem in California.

Can’t figure out why we have so many laws that are never enforced, ever. And when someone insists that current law be enforced, everybody’s in an uproar. I’m not comfortable with anybody trying to tell me how to think, be it Rush Limbaugh or that joke of a Senator from Minnesota.

Thinking’s free and I know a whole lot of men and women who’re risking their lives the very minute you read these words, just so I’m free to do that sorta thing, that thinking part, and what’s so neat ‘bout the deal, everybody’s included all at the same time. Yes, thinking’s free. And so easy to do even when we’re wrong.

Not only are we free to think, but we’re free to shout our thoughts from the proverbial roof tops should we choose to do so, and many times we do choose to do so, right or wrong. It doesn’t matter when we choose to do so. For some people it seems that thinking just another word for nothing else to do.

Springtime nighttime sounds in the darkness fill my soul. Not having heard such in so long, I’m still enjoying my newly refound sounds of springtime nighttimes. The Bells of Spring, those little boy frogs.

Did I ever tell ya ‘bout the time I used frogs in a Medical Laboratory? Was a while back, when black & white TV dominated the air ways. I operated a Clinical Laboratory on the near North Side of Chicago, 1150 North State St. for those knowing that city, right down the street from the Playboy Mansion for you sinners that know Chicago, on the North side.

We provided laboratory analysis on various type samples taken from human bodies, I’ll not get into gory detail ‘bout some of that stuff, but it’s ok to talk ‘bout the frogs. We used the frogs to perform pregnancy test, using urine samples. Done a lot of ‘em, ‘bout 175 tests per day, 5 days a week. We used 2 frogs for each test. Now that’s a lot of frogs, do the math.

Got my frogs delivered every other day by UPS. 144 dozen frogs every week, delivered by UPS. Summer frogs came from upper Michigan and Wisconsin. Winter frogs came from South Africa. A long way for a frog to go to get a job, but there’s always been high unemployment is South Africa, even in the frog communities. Ya just do what ya gotta do, when it comes to work. They were called African Clawed Frogs.

And oh yeah, they’re all boys. Ya could only use boy frogs for the pregnancy test. It didn’t work with girl frogs, had to be boy frogs. Did anybody ever tell ye how to tell boy frogs from girl frogs? NO! not that way, shame on you, there is a better way. Boy frogs have thumbs, girl frogs don’t. That holds true cross the whole species of frogs, over 5000 species and all the boys have thumbs. Girl frogs from boy frogs, and another one of those little East Wing Jewels popped out into the world.

“Bout the Playboy Mansion, I used to have to go over there twice a month on a Monday morning to draw a fasting blood sample from one of the ladies who took care of the girls. Didn’t ever see anything though. But unlike most I can truly say I’ve been to the Playboy Mansion many, many time, too many to count. Didn’t ever see anything though. The 1wife was not too excited ‘bout me going to the Playboy Mansion. Invited her to go along, but she declined, I’m glad, ‘cause I’d have been really embarrassed to have to take my wife to work when I went to the Playboy Mansion. But I didn’t see anything though.

One of my management styles while I operated Medical Laboratories was to never assign work to a lab tech that I would not do myself. That management style served me well in dealing with the professional staff. They all knew I could and would do their work assignments. It was just that management style that required me to assign myself the job of the sample collection at the Playboy Mansion. I had some techs who offered to switch jobs with me but I didn’t want to impose on ‘em, so I just went ahead and done the job. But I didn’t see anything though. I did see Hugh Heffner one time.

It’s kinda neat that when ya see somebody famous, ya remember ‘em forever. I don’t think Hugh Heffner remembers BobbyRay. I shook hands with Richard Nixon one time, I don’t think he remembered me either, and I’m not even gona tell ye the story ‘bout me and Elvis when he appeared live at The Ohio State University when I was a graduate student back in 1974. Me and Elvis, it was such a time.

I’m forever amazed as to the extent people will go to state their opposition to our President. Late Friday Evening I received the following email. I can only conclude that the sender does not agree with the political agenda of the current President of the United States.

The email stated: “Just wanted to let you know - today I received my stimulus package for 2010. It contained two watermelon seeds, cornbread mix, and 10 coupons to KFC. The directions were in Spanish.”

One short email that offends black people (watermelon seeds) hillbillies (cornbread) my mama (KFC) and those illegal aliens in both Arizona as well as San Francisco. Not to mention the illegal aliens in Logansport Indiana or Starke County for that matter.

I couldn’t help but wonder if that cornbread mix was the kind with sugar, I hate that kind with sugar. It’s a hillbilly thing, hating that sweet cornbread.

That is one of the milder emails I get on a routine basis. Some of these things I would never print in mixed reading. One of the good things ‘bout writing from the East Wing is half think I am, and the other half thing I'm not. And guess what? They’re both right.

As the shades of evening are just starting to get ready to start to close, thank you for stopping by early this beautiful Spring Sunday, this middle of May.

Stay safe in Iraq and Afghanistan
From the East Wing, With Quantum Mechanics, Ice Saints, Sophia In Arizona, Laboratory Frogs & Playboy Mansions

I wish you well,
BobbyRay

From The East Wing, Talking Hoosier, The Lion Walks Tonight, Aching Bones, Post Election, Fudd & Bunny

2010-05-09T17:03:00.000-07:00

Greetings to all, and welcome new friends to the East Wing.

The older one becomes, the more precious is it to hug your mother. I hugged my mama this Mothers Day. Another gift from God.

Did ya ever notice how, here in Indiana, we tend to do and say things that other parts of the country may think somewhat odd? Well we just do. And they sometimes do think we’re kinda strange and unusual. But ya gotta remember, strange and unusual is in the eye of the beholder, and I’ve beheld some strange and unusual stuff outside Indiana. We do things like when we end our sentences with prepositions, as in 'Where's it at?' or 'Where's he going to?' We say things like catty corner, and we know what it means. Hoosier Talk, gotta love it. The 1wife’s florist is caddy corner from my office in downtown North Judson.

We also do things that tend to be uniquely Hoosier too. We drink pop, not soda, we drink pop. We allow kids and dogs to ride in the passenger seats of cars and the bed of pickup trucks. We all know people who’ve hit a deer at least once.

The retail community of Indiana learned a long time ago that anything sells in Indiana if ya call it “Amish”. Oh, it don’t have to be real Amish, it just has to be called Amish. A good example of such labeling success in retailing is none other than that highly renowned, widely acclaimed, “Amish Moo Shu Pork”.

Now closer to home, right here in Starke County, we’ve got some rather unique attributes of which we can be most proud, such as when we say down south it means Kentucky, nothing else south of Kentucky. We carry jumper cables in our cars all the time. If we want someone to hear us, we holler at 'em. We know that baling wire was the predecessor to duct tape. We know that strangers are the only ones who ever comes to our front door, while everybody else uses the back door, like we do.

Few thing in life feel better than the warm winds of early springtime. Too soon we’ll have grown accustom to the warm wind and no longer view it as a true gift from God. It surly is. One of the neat things I see from my vantage point here in the East Wing is the amazing changes of the season. And every time ya know, ya just know, that a full change of season is under way, I always think this is the one I love the most, and I do.

Speaking of amazing sites, I watched Sophia The Republican Cat stalk a bird for over 15 minutes the other day.. Two Robins were on the ground in the south yard near the west Maple Tree. Sophia saw the birds while she was a good 40ft or so away. It was such a neat thing to see. Now you’ve seen films of lions stalking their prey, well Sophia must have seen the same movie, ‘cause she had the moves.

In a flash, Sophia is crawling along the ground on her belly. Between the cat and the birds, there is a large emerging green plant in one of the front gardens. Sophia is successful in reaching the hideout undetected by the birds. She’s now within 10ft of the unsuspecting birds. The wind is blowing rather strong and Sophia has the birds up wind. 10ft so close, yet so far. The birds continue to peck on the ground and walk along. They walk toward Sophia’s lair. The Cat’s ready, the trap’s set. Fate rules the playing field. Destiny comes into play.

As one of the birds continued to walk directly toward Sophia, a slight flicker of her tail told me she’s ‘bout to go. With a Robin within 1 ¼ cat lengths, Sophia launched. Sophia didn't jump at the bird, she jumped toward a space in the sky above the bird. Sophia jumped forward and skyward, Sophia jumped above the bird. By the time Sophia reached her selected altitude, the bird also arrived on time. In a fraction of a heartbeat, cat and bird were joined in mid air. Cat and bird came to earth as a single unit with cat in charge.

It was the shortest of short action movies, a fraction of a second, if ya blinked, ya missed it, and it was all over. When Sophia touched down from her suborbital flight, she was in full control of the bird. She walked toward the East Wing with bird in mouth, I’ll swear that cat swagger in her step, she came maybe 30-40ft toward the East Wing and then done the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen in nature. She laid down still holding the bird, with her paws stretched forward on the ground, opened her mouth, and in an instant the bird flew away. Had I not seen that whole thing played out I would not have believed it. It brought to mind a whole new meaning to the old gospel song “Some Glad Morning When This Life Is Over, I’ll Fly Away”
I considered it a special privilege to have witnessed such an act of nature. Before my eyes, unfolded thousands, maybe hundreds of thousands of years of evolution played out in a swan song repeated from the time of creation of birds and the creation of cats. The stalking instinct of cats. The blindness to danger of birds. The only thing I couldn’t figure out was the turning loose part. I thought a lot ‘bout the cat turning the bird loose, couldn’t figure it out at all so finally I just had to ask.

I asked, Sophia said “that bird’s republican, what a ya gona do, ya cant’ eat a republican bird”. I sometimes wonder if that bird was really a republican, or not, ‘cause Sophia doesn’t need to hunt for food, she eats well in the East Wing. The girl cat hunts for sport, even in Sophia, there’s a part of the jungle cat, the hunter part.

From big cat to little cat, the lion walks tonight. She stalks because she’s born with such ability. Much the same way Gray Lady James, as a German Short Hair Pointer, has the ability to point out birds in the bush. Now Pup Baby on the other hand has limited ability to point birds in the bush. But she does have pointing ability, just that she doesn’t know what to point. Pup Baby points butterflies when they land. Pup Baby’s pointing skills are limited for sure, but I love Pup Baby, ‘cause she’s a real good “just be your dog”, dog.

Wonder if I took Sophia fishing, she’d turn the fish loose after I took her picture holding ‘em up. Maybe we’ll go fishing someday, me and Sophia and the 2girldogs. Maybe she’d get the freed Robin to help dig the worms, after all, that Robin does owe Sophia big time. Ya’d think any bird would be more than happy to dig a few worms in return for being able to fly freely from the shadows of the valley of death. I’m proud of the that Republican Cat, not killing that bird. I don’t like to see anything die.

“Oh, my aching bones. . It must be about to rain.” Ever heard anybody say that? Bet ya did some time or another. May’ve even said it yourself. Now the idea that aches and pains can predict weather is older than dirt. This is one of the oldest of old weather lore, and the one most recognized by everyone, even those who don’t care ‘bout the stripe on the woolly worm caterpillar. Or even those people who don’t care ‘bout the red sky in the morning, or night. Even those folks know ‘bout the aching bones predicting the weather.

And ya know what, they’re right. While some of the old wives tales of weather lore are not always the most reliable, the aches and pains associated with weather predictions are true. This part of the old weather wisdom is supported by medical research. Back in the 1960’s is was established that patients sought medical attention for pain related issues with the approach of weather changing conditions. Patients with arthritis were the ones who were most affected. Increased pain from nerve disorders, recently healed fractures, migraines, toothaches, corns, and even scars, when the weather was about to change were studied in a controlled manner and the results were consistent.

It has never been fully established why this occurs, but it does. Just like many things in life, Ya just take it as fact and go on down the road. The most likely cause is a change in atmospheric pressure which happens just before a storm begins. It is a known fact that atmospheric pressure changes can dilate blood vessels in the body which can stimulate the nerves in sensitive parts of the body, like sore joints, creaky knees and stuff like that.

From what I got in the email, I propose the State of Indiana start the “Name The Indian Sate Casserole Contest” real soon, ‘cause I hear from a whole lot of folks who’ve got names ready to submit. Also got an email from a lady in Cannelton IN saying she thinks maybe she’s heard of this casserole before. I assured her she could not have possibly heard of this casserole as the Indiana State Casserole was just passed into law a few day ago.

In case ya don’t know where Cannelton is, it’s a little town in Perry County, Indiana, along the Ohio River. Cannelton is east of Tell City just a few miles. Little place, Cannelton IN, maybe 1,200 people live there, 1,500 tops. But being little in Indiana doesn’t mean not being important to Indiana, ‘cause the Cannelton Cotton Mill, also known as Indiana Cotton Mill, is a National Historic Landmark of the United States and it’s located in Cannelton, Indiana. Kinda little, kinda important.

In Indiana we got our primary election out of the way this past week. Those who won are happy and those who lost make every effort to give the impression they will support the winner whole hardly, and we all know that they really want to say how much they wish they had won, ‘cause they hate the winners guts, but they don’t say that. That’s probably why I never ran for public office, ‘cause if I did and lost, I’d say how much I hated the winners guts.

With the primary election out of the way, we’ve cleared the path for the real B.S. to start being shoveled out in mass quantities. ‘Course the one saving grace is that the majority of campaigning takes place after Labor Day. Getting there is a chore. All research shows that we, the voters, don’t really pay any real attention until the last two months of the campaigns, I can’t help but wonder why these people start two years early. It seems that at every level of politics the office holder starts campaigning the day after taking office for the first time. I’m a big believer in terms limits at every level.

Much of the campaign effort from now until November will be thrust toward the national races, even here in Starke County, with both sides wanting to prove the other side wrong. Not only wrong, but un-American, bigoted, racist, liars, hate mongers, crooks, cheats, fear fanning, scalawags and womanizers . And that’s just the nice words from the list. The bad stuff ya don’t say in mixed reading.

Now the fact that each side will call the other side all those names tends to work well for the electorate, you and me, we tend to recognize that all the bad stuff said by both sides is so much crap. And as such we decide who we will vote for, not by what bad things are being said by the opposition, rather what we hear the candidates themselves say.

Sarah Palin is an example of what I’m talking ‘bout. Now I’m not a Sarah Palin fan, but I’m truly amazed by the amount of my email that’s so supportive of her position. And just as sure as when Sophia The Republican Cat goes on a rampage, she’ll get several hundred emails comparing her with Sarah Palin. One such email even had lots of detail attachments from MS Publisher, posters, cards, bumper sticker, letterhead pages, stuff like that for a Sarah & Sophia For President Campaign. I don’t know ‘bout you, but I’m not gona vote for no Calico Cat. (Damn Republican Cat)

Oh, by the way, that ‘scalawag’ word all the candidates are gona be calling each other, know where that came from? No, well, probably those who use the word don’t either. Now scalawag’s old school for sure. “scalawag” was used during the reconstruction period following the Civil War. Scalawag was the term used to describe a white person in the south who co-operated with the Federal Government in its efforts to stabilize the nation. Even though the term was meant to be demeaning, had it not been for those people willing to co-operate in the rebuilding process we would be a different nation today.

Another meaning for scalawag is a rascal, like in rascal rabbit, I'm sure that’s the Politian’s choice meaning. Scalawags all. Rascal Rabbits. Maybe Elmer and Bugs could do a better job. They probably would be in favor of terms limits. After all, Elmer’s familiar with limits on hunting rascal rabbits. But I’m not sure if they are both in the same party.

Based solely on Elmer’s hunting outfit, he just looks republican, and Bugs, the way he holds that carrot, ya can tell, Bugs is stone cold Obama democrat. Rascal Rabbit.

As this Mother’s Day, 2010 as the sunshine leaves the gardens of the East Wing , we have enjoyed your company another day. Nothing is more beneficial and rewarding than friendship, yours.

Stay Safe in Iraq and Afghanistan, especially to you two, DELTA II, DELTA III

From the East Wing, Talking Hoosier, The Lion Walks Tonight, Aching Bones, Post Election, Fudd & Bunny

I wish you well,
BobbyRay

From theEast Wing, Smiling in Italian, A Governor & A Gun, Organizing Coyotes, Local Poltics, The Indiana State Casserole

2010-05-02T15:59:00.000-07:00

Greetings to all, and welcome new friends to the East Wing.

Super Saver won the race as once gain they ran for the roses yesterday, for the 136th time. The Kentucky Derby, one of the most recognized sporting events in the world, and one of the shortest sporting events in the world. That’s why the start the party a week early. It’d be a shame to come half way ‘round the world just for 2 minutes or so and then go home, hence a one week party worth coming for, and at the end of the week long party, a horse race for 2 minutes or so, before ya go home. Sweet.

Want to have a really good day? It’s so simple ya gotta love it. Just smile at someone ya don’t know. Bet they smile back, ‘cause smiling is kinda like yawning, ya see it done, gotta do it too. And ya know why? ‘Cause everybody smiles in the same language.

That’s what’s so cool ‘bout smiling, want to talk a foreign language? Look at a stranger and smile in Italian. Oh, believe me, they’ll smile back, ‘cause it’s hard not to smile back when someone’s smiling at ya in Italian, and just that quick, you know a foreign language. That’s the way I met my wife, ya know, I smiled at her in Italian. And at that time I didn’t even know hillbillies could smile in Italian, but I did. It worked.

You’ve probably seen or heard of a product called “Rosetta Stone”, it’s simply a program designed to teach you a foreign language, well save your money. You now have the secret to communicate in any language you choose, and it’s free. It’s just another one of those East Wing Freebies.

Wow did I ever get the Emails ‘bout Sophia’s Ovaltine Secret Decoder Ring. I would never have guessed how many people still have and or knew about the Ovaltine Secret Decoder Ring. Seems like there are more republicans out there than I thought. They’re probably getting secret messages from Don Rumsfeld or somebody like that. I’m sure if Don Rumsfeld is sending out secret messages Sophia is on the list.

After all she did get, as you may remember, some time back, an email from the White House asking her to do her part to promote the then health call bill.

I never saw a madder cat in my life when Sophia found out she had actually received an email from the White House. She called it an email from the dark side. No, no with Sophia it was not what you’re thinking, it was the dark side as in Vader. The real dark side. Not the one you were thinking ’bout. Shame on you for thinking bad thoughts ‘bout the Republican Cat.

Not going to get into the details of Sophia’s response to that email. I’ll just say that some of the 4 letter words used could only be spoken by those felines versed in fluent cataneese. That email alone, endeared her into the hearts and minds of many Tea Party People. ‘Course being the National Spokescat for the CCCA (Concretive Calico Cats of America) also helped with the introduction to the Tea Party. Casts of a feather……

Sure was scared that all of my fruit trees and lilacs were gona get frozen out last Tuesday night. It got cold here in the East Wing Yards, but not cold enough, it appears, to freeze my stuff. As backup I picked a big bunch and put ‘em the florist cooler. Guess one of the little benefits of having your wife own the local florist, is having access to a really big refrigerator.

Actually a very special little friend of mine made his first Holy Communion today, and it’s been a tradition in their family for a long, long time to have Lilacs at the First Communion Party. I didn’t want to take the chance they would get frozen, so I got ‘em, and put ‘em in the big refrigerator. Guess that strategic planning learned some time back as the General of the Toto Volunteers still pays off. Well at least I got the Lilacs ready for Sunday. Today they were as fresh as if I cut ‘em this morning. It was a good day.

Now I don’t care who ya are, if your stuff gets frozen in the early spring time, you’re gona have a bad day, and maybe a bad rest of the year. ‘Cause chances are you’ll be missing a lot of your other stuff that got frozen out too. Ya know lilacs don’t just freeze and leave everything else alone.

Years seem to just go better when ya can smell the lilacs in the springtime. And everybody knows ‘bout that stopping and smelling the roses part. But ya know what, ‘bout that smelling the roses thing, I try to do that a little bit every day. If ya smile in Italian at a stranger, that’s smelling the roses.

Come to think of it, if ya smile at a stranger in Italian, maybe that’ll be smelling the garlic. Seems damn near all the Italians I know, and Lord knows I know a lot of ‘em, just can’t get too much garlic. Well, I’m hillbilly, and I can. Quick, real quick. But we, me and that Italian Girl I smiled at one time, we don’t sweat the small stuff like how much garlic to use. All too often it’s the small stuff that gets ya into trouble, and the first thing ya know, you’re in some real messy stuff, so don’t sweat the small stuff, and you’ll be a lot better off. Especially if ya’ve smiled in Italian.

Still getting some email ‘bout those big frogs I was talking ‘bout a couple weeks ago. I’m telling ya, ya gotta find ‘em at Southfork. And no, I am not aware to anything close to those frogs in Texas.

That reminds me, you people in Texas think you’re so smart, everything’s bigger in Texas, well, Duh! Who cares? Only those who live in Texas. I’ve never been to Texas, but have family who’ve lived there for many years. I don’t think they’re cowboys yet, I don’t think they gotta horse. All in all, I think Texas is more wimp than not.

Oh, I almost forgot to tell ya ‘bout the pistol-packing Texas Governor, Rick Perry and the ole coyote. Well it seems the Governor was out jugging early one morning, out by himself and a little dog. From what I understand it was in a somewhat isolated area, Texas has a lot of that, isolated area that is, even in the city of Austin, when all of a sudden from the sage brush, out pops a coyote interested in hot dogs for breakfast.

As the coyote approached the Governor and the little dog, the Governor, being the good politician he is, tried to engage the coyote in conversation. Asking are you a registered coyote? The coyote said yes, the Governor said, republican, the coyote said democrat. As the coyote lunged for his breakfast, the Governor pulled the .380 pistol with laser sights from his belt and the score stood at Governor 1 and coyote 0.

Interesting enough Austin residents reported seeing 755 coyotes since January 2009, but Gov. Rick Perry is the only person known to have shot and killed one in the city limits. And some of those asked about it had concerns ‘bout him shooting a gun in the city limits.

Well HELLO! With over 750 coyotes running ‘round in your town, you’d think a lot more than the Governor would have the guts to pop ‘em off. I think whoever was criticizing Governor Perry was some of those Texas wimps I was talking ‘bout.

I think I’m gona take back all that bad stuff I said ‘bout Texas, ‘cause if ya gotta Governor who jogs with a loaded .380 pistol in his belt, well, he’s got more guts than most. Now before everybody in Texas gets on my case for badmouthing Texas, I’m just joking, ‘cept for those wimps in Austin that badmouthed the Governor for shooting the coyote. Shame on you. I guess if you’d been in the same place, you’d just fed the coyote breakfast, and get another dog.

It’s just things like that is why Texas has Governor Rick Perry and not a wimp in place of a leader. It would be interesting to really know, I mean really, really know how the other Governors of the other states would have acted. How the President would have acted. I would propose that the vast amount of the Governors would never have been there to begin with, not without “my State Police Guards”. Wimps, many.

With a smile on her face and a twinkle in her eye, Sophia just told me how she thought the President would handle the situation. Sophia believes that the President would have acted in a direct and positive manner based on his life experiences. The President would first make every attempt to organize the coyote community, ‘cause a disorganized coyote community has no voice in society. Once the community had been organized, the President would bring in programs of social assistance. Programs offering free services such as housing assistance, food assistance, medical assistance, day care assistance, tattoo assistance, piercing assistance. With so many public assistance programs to be involved with, there was no time to work, so a special program would have be developed to ensure a continuance of money flowing into the community.

The new assistance program would be called Community Revenue Assistance Project. The CRAP Program was a big hit with the lazy coyote community.

Life was good in the coyote world. Lots of food, lots of money, lots of games to play, everybody’s got 50” flat screen TV, no work, life was good in that coyote community, way out there in West Texas.

And then the Governor got wind of what was going on right there in his own state. The Governor didn’t send the Texas Rangers, oh no, the Governor LEAD the Texas Rangers. They went out there, the Governor and the Texas Rangers, all the way out to West Texas. West of Midland, west of Pecos, even west of Toyah. All the way to where Interstates 10 and 20 come together, and they cleaned up that mess of free loading coyotes pretty much the same as if it had been the Dalton Gang.

There’s something ‘bout an elected official who’s got the courage to act as decisive as Governor Perry, that makes him special in the eyes of many, including Sophia. ‘Course the Governor has never tried organizing a coyote community either. Ya must also keep in mind that Governor Perry may well have missed his final chance at community organizing of coyotes. Does the term “gun shy” ring a bell? Oh, and that little dog of the Governor’s, he’s fine ‘cept for one thing, he won’t leave the Governors side while the Gov has the laser light show stuck in his belt. So don’t mess with Texas. Or maybe more appropriate, don’t mess with the Governor of Texas.

From the looks of the local papers, ya can tell it’s approaching primary election time in Indiana. The world is becoming cluttered with yard signs, newspaper ads, and junk mail in the mail boxes. Soon the airways are to be filled with many false promises and plans for a better future by people more interested in preserving their own future than mine and yours.

As usual in every election, there are both highly qualified candidates as well as those who have no more to bring to the elected office than the 2girldogs. Maybe not as much, ‘cause the 2girldogs are pretty girls.

Right here in my community there’s a classic example of such candidates, former office holders all. Now the last thing in the world I’d want to do would be to try and influence the way a person would vote, but the “Judge” knows how BobbyRays gona vote, ‘cause I made up my mind way back when. “Financial Responsibility”, now that’s a good tag line if I ever heard one. Ya don’t get more qualified than having financial responsibility.

The bills passed by the Indiana House and Senate, during their most recent session, when signed by the Governor of Indiana, become law. Most such laws become effective on the first day of the next fiscal year. For Indiana, the fiscal year starts July 1.

Some new laws get more media attention than others. Now we all know that here in Indiana we have a State Bird, the Cardinal. We all know and recognize the State Flag of Indiana. Bet ya didn’t know that come July 1, 2010 we’ll have our own Indiana State Casserole. Yes our own State Casserole. Now is that cool or what?? From this new law ya can just tell that some legislator was looking out for our best interest.

The recipe for the Indiana State Casserole is an extremely complex mixture of canned green beans, Campbell 's Cream of Mushroom Soup, and dried onions. The new State Casserole has yet to be named, but plans are afoot to have a state wide contest to select a name. The contest is to be open to all Hoosier, so if a good names just happens to pop into mind simply from the description of the ingredients, write it down so ya don’t forget it when the contest is announced. It’ll maybe be when school starts back in the fall, so the kids can get involved as a school. Maybe enter the best name from the whole school.

It is being rumored around Indianapolis that Governor Mitch Daniels pushed this State Casserole bill so it could be available as a tool for PTA’s across the state to be used in fund raising efforts to assist in paying for public education at a more local level. It is also rumored that Governor Daniels will sign executive orders which will allow all Hoosiers over age 18 to purchase the base ingredients for the Indiana State Casserole sales tax exempt. Should this novel idea provide a successful revenue stream, be prepared for more delicious state dishes to come from our legislative leaders. Government at its best.

The pleasure of your company is never ending in the East Wing. We’re glad you came by today.

Stay safe in Iraq and Afghanistan

From the East Wing, While Smiling in Italian, A Governor & A Gun, Organizing Coyotes, Local Politics, The Indiana State Casserole.

I wish you well,
BobbyRay

From the East Wing, With a Pizza Party, The Preacher & The Record Club, Robobees & Wal-Mart, McHale's Navy, Sophia's Email

2010-04-25T18:48:00.000-07:00

Greetings to all, and welcome new friends to the East Wing.

For those of you who might remember my encounter with the Hornet Nation last summer, you’ll be glad to know the final outcome of that battle has taken place. The good guys won!

It was truly interesting to watch the demise of that Hornet Nest last fall and winter. After the weather got so cold it drove the hornets underground, the wind, rain, freezing & thawing, along with the snow started to take its toll on the Hornet Nest. I could see changes in its appearance day by day. It started to die.

But what really got the job done, was in late January a rather large black bird started to peck on the nest. Don’t know it that bird ate the nest or just enjoyed destroying a Hornet Nest, either way, within a few days after the black bird started pecking on the nest it was gone. I think the bird did eat at least part of the nest. The good guys won the war. May not have won all the battles, but won the war.

Had a really neat Pizza Party last Wednesday evening, me and a bunch of friends of mine. Just sat around the round table at Grand Central Station and enjoyed each other’s company. Told Stories. Nothing quite as nice as the company of good friends. It turns out that the important things in my life are not things at all , but people, people who are friends of mine.

Does anybody remember the Columbia House Record Club? Looking through some old, old papers I ran across one of the advertisements for Columbia House Record Club. Buy 5 records of your choice for One Penny! Such a deal. Cancel at any time! Send no money Now! If You want the current selection, you do nothing! We Ship direct to you! Return in 30 days no questions asked!

Well, I bought damn near every one that came in our mail box for a penny. When Rock & Roll was young, Carl Perkins, Buddy Holly, Fats Domino, Deion and the Belmonts, Fabian, Elvis, I bought ‘em all for one penny. And then the monthly selections came, I didn’t want ‘em but they just kept on coming and the bills started coming too. $24.95 for every one past that 5 for a penny deal. I got the mail every day from the mail box as I got off the School Bus, and all the Columbia House Record Club stuff had my name on it, so I just put ‘em in a box under my bed, and didn’t tell anybody. I didn’t know what to do, didn’t want ‘em, but didn’t know how to stop the music or the bills.

I called them Columbia House Record Club People up on the phone said “this is Mr. BobbyRay Howard from Toto Indiana and I don’t want any more of your records”. They said “Shut up kid and pay that bill or else you’ll go to jail for fraud” They hung up on me, me, me, Mr. BobbyRay Howard from Toto Indiana. Talk ‘bout being scared, well I was one little scared hillbilly boy for sure. I didn’t even know what fraud was, and now I was going to have to go to jail for it. It didn’t seem right, it just didn’t seem right.

I decided to tell my dad, ‘cause anything that didn’t seem right, I always told my dad, ‘cause he was a preacher, and he knew ‘bout right and wrong and stuff like that, ‘cause that was part of his job being a preacher.

Got the box from under the bed and took it my dad. He laughed when I told him ‘bout all the Columbia House Records I had gotten in the mail. He really laughed when I told him ‘bout me calling ‘em up and telling ‘em I’m Mr. BobbyRay Howard from Toto Indiana and stop sending me bills and music. He didn’t laugh when I told him ‘bout them telling me I’d have to go to jail for fraud if I didn’t pay ‘em.

Right then and there my dad got on the phone and talked to that Columbia House Record Company. He told them I was 11 years old and didn’t have his permission or anybody else’s permission to order anything from their company, If they ever sent another thing to his mail box they’d be sorry. That was the first day the music died. Being a preacher is kinda neat, knowing right from wrong, and all.

Don’t know if that company’s still in business or not, but one thing I do know is they never send any more stuff, music or bills, to my dad’s mail box at Toto. Guess the wrong Mr. Howard called ‘em the first time.

Did ya see the meteors early Thursday Morning, I’m talking real early Thursday Morning, like 2:00 AM. I didn’t plan on it, but woke up and decided to go out and look and see the light show. It was worth the effort. Maybe 25 – 30 per hour, based on my watch time. At that rate ya don’t get boarded, standing out in the dark, in the cold wondering what the &*&^%$ you’re doing out in the dark wondering ‘bout stuff anyway. It was fun. Watching meteor showers are more fun with someone. That night it was just me and Pup Baby James, but the Pup Baby is good company any time, even watching meteors. I’m not sure the Pup Baby saw as many as I did, I don’t think she looked up as much as I did.

It’s amazing to think that a chunk of stuff the size of a tennis ball would make a streak across the sky maybe a thousand miles long. There’s a lot of things in this world we don’t fully understand. That chunk of stuff the size of that tennis ball is just but one.

“Chunk” is just such a neat word. Stop and think ‘bout it. Chunk paints a different picture for everybody. Lump, hunk, mass, large piece, portion, are all synonyms for chunk. But nothing says chunk like chunk. I don’t know if ya can still buy a “Chunk of Chocolate” or not, used to could.

Robobees, yes, robobees are being developed as a possible replacement for the devastating loss of honey bees worldwide. “While a vast amount of research is being poured into finding the cause for the bee die off, a like amount of effort is being put into developing another way to pollinate those things in nature that rely on the little fellers. Much of the things we eat depend on the honeybees. Most of the things ya grow in your gardens, on your trees, in your fields, I’m telling ya, those little honeybees are important people.

Now we may well be able to create little flying robobees and pollinate the plants, but I bet those robobees are not gona make honey, ‘cause that’s just wrong, having robobees making honey. Bet it would taste like it came from a can. I don’t know ‘bout you, but I’m not gona eat any robohoney.

One thing ya gotta keep in mind, If ya see that robohoney at Wal-Mart, bet your bottom dollar it came from China. And we all know how those Chinese people made baby formula for their own babies, so just imagine how they’d do on making robohoney for Wal-Mart. Stay away from the Wal-Mart Robohoney, especially if it’s in a can, ‘cause ya just can’t see what’s inside. Course ya can’t see what’s inside Mayonnaise either, but I don’t think Mayonnaise comes from China, I think Mayonnaise comes from Alabama.

Ever hear ‘bout a frog that changes color? No, not at Southfork, in the heart of Borneo. Knowing full well that Borneo is not a lead story on the evening news too often, it does hold many of the worlds mysteries.

Stick insects and slugs are just an example of some such mysteries in downtown Borneo. There have been 123 new species of plants, animals and insects discovered on the Island of Borneo in just the last three years. Now the WWF, no, not the wrestling people, the World Wildlife Fund, the real WWF, published such a list last week to mark Earth Day.

Seems like McHale’s Navy was there during the war. If not Borneo, I’m sure they were close by. I loved McHale’s Navy. I was a big Tim Conway fan. Funny man, Tim Conway, when teamed with Carol Barnett, it didn’t get more funny than that. Not one dirty word did Tim Conway ever speak on TV, nor Did Carol Barnett. That speaks volumes for true talent. Maybe there’s no longer enough to go around.

Rainy Springtime Sunday Morning in the East Wing. So much so the 2girldogs didn’t even go outside, Pup Baby just stuck her nose outside and went back and laid down on her couch. Now the Gray Lady James was even smarter, she didn’t even get off her couch, just wagged her tail, smiled and went back to sleep. AT 5:30 on a Sunday morning when it’s raining, maybe that is the best idea, wag your tail, smile, and go back to sleep. I did.

Last week Sophia The Republican Cat shared an interesting email with me. Ya gotta keep in mind that Sophia is so far right in her political views that she won’t even walk on my left side, but any way, she shared a very thought provoking email. The part she let me read was as follows:

Politicians are the only people in the world who create problems and then campaign against them.

Have you ever wondered, if both the Democrats and the Republicans are against deficits, why
do we have deficits? Have you ever wondered, if all the politicians are against inflation and high taxes, Why do we have inflation and high taxes?

One hundred senators, 435 congressmen, one president, and nine Supreme Court justices equates
to 545 human beings out of the 300 million are directly, legally, morally, and individually responsible for the domestic problems that plague this country.

Those 545 human beings spend much of their energy convincing you and me that what they did is not their fault. They cooperate in this common con regardless of party. What separates a politician from a normal human being is an excessive amount of gall...

No normal human being would have the gall of a Speaker, who stood up and criticized the President for creating deficits... The President can only propose a budget. He cannot force the Congress to accept it…

Now with much of Sophia’s ranting and ravings I just blow it off as so much smoke. However, if ya read what she shared, there’s not a single word which ya can challenge. Now I may or may not agree with Sophia’s politics, but I’ll give her credit, when she lays it out for the world to see, she’s done her homework. Facts are facts, and when ya can’t dispute the facts, attack the messenger, or if you’re the President, blame George Bush.

Much of what comes in Sophia’s email is composed on the back side of the Moon if ya ask me. I think it has all kinds built in secret codes, that only she can decipher. I suspect such simply because I know for a fact, Sophia has an original Ovaltine Secret Decoder Ring in the Cat House and she spends a lot of time with that ring on her right paw when she’s in the Cat House. And when the Ovaltine Secret Decoder Ring is not on Sophia’s right paw, it’s safely displayed right next to the autographed photo of Herbert Hoover. (Damn Republican Cat)

By the last Sunday of every April, the shades of nighttime draw slowly from the East. Even on days like today, with these low floating dark clouds that ya could just reach up and squeeze the water out, the nighttime comes slow. Unlike the last Sunday of every December, when ya blink and go from light to darkness, in an instance, or so it seems.

As my beautiful Maple Tree just outside the East Wing Window to the south fades into the darkness, while the 2girldogs are in their usual spots on the couches and Sophia is perched on the back of my chair, watching every key stroke, nighttime comes on little cat feet, in silence.

Thank you so much for sharing your time with us this evening in the East Wing. We always look forward to you company. Your presence in the East Wing adds to the warmth of the family.

Stay safe in Iraq and Afghanistan

From the East Wing, With A Pizza Party, A Preacher & The Record Club, Robobees & Wal-Mart, McHale’s Navy, Sophia’s Email.

I wish you well,
BobbyRay

From the East Wing, Smelling Lilacs, Recycling Pup Baby, ToothPaste Tax, A Good Teacher and Blaming Bush

2010-04-18T19:12:00.001-07:00

Greetings to all, and welcome new friends to the East Wing.

April 15th came and went and so did another tax year. I’ve said it before but in many ways I’ve one of the best jobs in the world. Put in all my overtime the worst part of the year. January to mid April, now if ya gotta pick a time to work most day and night, pick the winter time, can’t do anything outside anyways.

Come mid April, the world turns green, and everyone’s wanting to go outside and play. I do. I walk in the sunshine with the 2girldogs. Sophia comes along. Now Sophia, she doesn’t walk with us, she walks beside us, ’bout 20ft or so to the right, always to the right. Sophia is never to the left of anything. Some habits are hard to break even when you’re just out walking in the sunshine, singing little sunshine songs. To the right, but never with us. We stop, she stops. We turn, she turns. Always maintaining that 20ft space. Guess ya just gotta give some cats room, on the right.

Now for everyone who wanted to know where to go to get the Giant Bullfrog Legs, it’s kinda like those mushroom hunters that’ll never tell ya the place they found ‘em, just give ya a vague hint. Well my vague hint is “at Southfork”. If ya look real hard, you’ll find ‘em. If ya go early in the spring, ya can hear the Bells of Springtime at Southfork too.

The Maple Trees looking south from the East Wing are leaving out so fast it seems I can almost see ‘em grow. Pretty site, watching leaves grow. Those little micro-factories getting ready to process chlorophyll.

I’m surprised some politician has not yet figured out some way to tax those tree leaf factories for polluting the air. We’ve forever been told how factories pollute the air, and after all, a by-product of these nasty little factories is oxygen, and we all know how much that pollutes the air. And besides, oxygen is what makes fires burn, so they could accuse the trees of being fire hazards I’m sure the trees will be covered in the democratic “cap and trade” bill currently being considered in the Senate.

Now that the new health care law is in affect with its tax on the use of tanning beds, it only seems right that we tax trees for polluting the air with that dangerous oxygen. And another thing ‘bout those trees while I’m thinking ‘bout ‘em, they are all sucking up carbon dioxide. I think they should have to pay their fair share. The more carbon dioxide those trees use the more they should pay.

But some of those little trees, well they need help, so maybe the government should give them a helping hand, such as extra carbon dioxide and in order to assure their growth, maybe force all big trees within ¼ mile to fall over, so the little ones can get more sunshine. Big trees have lived long enough anyhow. Its ‘bout time somebody stepped and started making decisions on who should life and who should die. Those big trees thing they got it made, well, we’ll show ‘em. That’s what the big trees get for voting with the cat.

Did ya hear ‘bout the new toothpaste tax scheduled to kick in July 1st? Ya, all tubes of toothpaste sold after July 1st this year will have a computer chip in the tube, when ya purchase the toothpaste the tube will be scanned with your SS Number into the chip.

Then each time ya squeeze the tube, the chip records and stores the data. Satellites are positioned to scan every residence in the country every 24 hours to collect the toothpaste squeezing data. This data in turn will be fed into the government high speed computers and monthly toothpaste tax bills will be delivered to your mailbox. For those people receiving any type monthly Federal Check, (24.22% of society) the toothpaste tax will be automatically deducted from your check. For the rest of us, well we have the option of pay by mail, credit card or direct debit. For those who may choose to pay one year at a time, in advance of course, a pound of flesh.

The East Wing’s in full and Beautiful Springtime Bloom. Lilacs, Crab Apples, Apple Trees, Peach Trees, Pear Trees. Red Bud Trees. It hard to tell which is the prettiest. I love ‘em all. Just walking in the yards of the East Wing makes ya glad to be living in the country.

Almost forgot part of the pretty in the yard. They came home, those pretty little springtime friends of mine, those pretty little dandelions. And from the looks of the yards, they must have invited new friends over to visit.
Stargazed for a while last night in the cold, real cold. It felt much colder than it really was, just the result of getting used to warm weather quick. I don’t look at the moon too much anymore, but last night was the ideal time to moon look. Only ‘bout 8% of the moon was showing, so that makes ideal viewing. It was fun, didn’t see anybody up there though. Tried to find the space station and sync in on it, but the space station orbit at that time was outside my range of view. Oh well maybe next time we stargaze.

One of the side benefits of having you come visit the East Wing is all the email I get each week. I try to answer all my email, but sometimes do get behind. Sophia, The Republican Cat, tends to push her email answering off on me, so I get even more behind, but I do appreciate each and every comment received.

Had a lady tell me last week that she’s lived over 30 years in New York City and still misses the Northern Indiana Springtime. Most everybody thinks wherever they live is God’s Country. Well, looking south from the East Wing, I know of at least two votes for Northern Indiana. She’s not seen Lilacs in bloom for many years and still remembers the aroma of Lilacs in the Springtime.

It’s difficult to imagine a world without Springtime Blossoms, a world without green grass every where ya look, a world where dogs and cats don’t run free, where neighbors houses touch, where the front yard is concrete. Where the front yard is also sidewalk. City life.

All the springtime birds of the East Wing have finally calmed down, those who were looking for girl friends, and Lord knows there were a lot, have either found ‘em or gave up and went somewhere else to look. In either event, those remaining are now quite busy building nests and getting ready. Watching birds build nests is just one of the coolest things to see. Oh, if only we had that level of determination in our lives, well, we’d all be millionaires.

One of the neat things I do each year ‘round this time is to comb the Pup Baby every day and collect any loose winter hair that may be thinking ‘bout coming out anyway. Save this hair for a couple days and take it outside early in the morning, and place it in a good spot where I can see the birds reaction to such nest building materials. I saved Pup Baby’s hair for a week and put it out in the yard this morning.

By the time I got home from both church and taking my Mama out to lunch, most was already gone. The rest disappeared well before the sun went down. It’s kinda neat to think that some little unknown bird will be hatched in the softest of nests, and will grow up thinking that all nests are that way.

But what’s most cool ‘bout the whole deal is, I’m recycling Pup Baby! I think the Recycling Czar is gona be proposing a tax credit for pet recycling.

Did ya ever notice how the political types at the national level throw that term “tax credit” at ya every chance they get. Is that a way to ensure we vote for ‘em? A tax credit for buying a house, a car, windows, new furnace, new doors, becoming educated, insulation, being poor, refrigerators, being old, having babies, getting a job, losing a job, and this is just a very, very small sample of the tax credits available as the list seems to go forever. Who do ya think pays for these “tax credits”? We, as a people, are more and more looking for our government to hand us stuff, to make our decisions, to take care of us. Are we too unable to do so? I wonder.

I had an interesting conversation with a public school teacher the other day, a teacher who I consider to be one of the very best I’ve ever known, and I’ve known a few, said she was gona retire, and would be doing so with a feeling of disappointment in her life.

I was so surprised to hear such a statement that I had to press for an explanation as to why she felt that way. Her answer stunned me. It was not from what she’s done with her career as an educator, she’d loved every minute in the class room, and continues to this day. The disappointment is from the direction she’s seen society move into the future. She described in detail the difference between her current class and her first class. The changes in manners, language skills, social skills, respect for others, willingness to share, willingness to help others, satisfaction with home life, happiness, fears, respect for authority, discipline, violence, anti social behavior, were some of the things she spoke about.

In many ways this was one of the most freighting conversations I’d ever be in. I’d never heard society’s evaluation laid out quite like that. This coming from one of the very best teachers I’ve ever known took me back a bit to say the least.

Don’t think I told ya, she teaches the First Grade. She sees the babies that are coming into the education system at the entry level. Babies fresh from home, ready to start into the formal education process to allow ‘em to become productive members of our future society. Babies that have not yet had the time or opportunity to be corrupted by the ills of society. Babies under the tutelage of their parents.

Seems I recall somewhere I read that if ya really want to know what’s going on in the family, ask the youngest member. Anybody remember Art Linkletter? Made a living doing just that. Called a TV Show “Kids Say The Dandiest Things” They did, and they still do, especially to their First Grade Teacher.

Well Sophia The Republican Cat finally woke up from her catnap, after checking her email, she comes running at me with all fur standing. Throws an email on the keyboard, jumps on the back of the chair and says “what the %^$#^$@%#$ ya think ‘bout that?” (gona have to wash that cat’s mouth out with soap)

Seems Sophia had somehow had gotten hold of a secret email from one of the top operatives in the Chicago Political Machine, an email to the White House informing the President that they had worked out the detail logic which will allow the President of officially blame the Iceland Volcano Eruptions on George Bush. Such an announcement is expected by the Republicans at any time. But certainly before the thing stops putting out all the ash and bringing most all of Europe back to earth. It’s hard to travel in a sand storm. Impossible to fly in a Volcanic Ash Cloud.

As always, you company this third Sunday of April has been most enjoyable. Thank you for being my friend.

Stay safe in Iraq, be especially careful in Afghanistan Delta People

From the East Wing, Smelling Lilacs, Recycling Pup Baby, Toothpaste Tax, A Good Teacher, And Blaming Bush

I wish you well,
BobbyRay

From the East Wing, With Sophia's email, The Bells of Springtime and The Giant Bullfrogs of Southfork

2010-04-11T16:37:00.000-07:00

Greetings to all, and welcome new friends to the East Wing.

For all of those who offered to come to the aid of the Calico Republican Cat, not to worry, I assure you the cat can hold her own, not only with the 2girldogs but the rest of the world, with one paw behind her back. Sophia is fine, and no, the 2girldogs didn’t get physical with her. It was a verbal attack only. The fur didn’t fly, the cat didn’t die. Good thing Sophia chose not to get physical with the 2girldogs, else I’d be looking for new girldogs.

Last week’s e-mail truly amazed me at the number of people who were truthfully concerned for the safety of Sophia The Republican Cat. Good thing I didn’t list an emergency help phone number for Sophia. The best email came from a fellow in Texas, it was only two lines, but it seemed to sum up the sentiments of a large majority of last week’s e-mail, it said:
NOW IS THE TIME FOR ALL GOOD MEN TO COME TO THE AID OF THE PARTY.
YOU GO – GIRLCAT SOPHIA !!!

It could be one of the things I liked ‘bout that email was it somehow reminded me of 1st year typing class, and I don’t know why. I taught myself to type when I was in the 7th grade, a neighbor gave me a little portable typewriter, a Royal. Don’t remember where I got the book, but I got hold of a first year typing book and the rest is history, taught myself “home row” and stuff like that. How many people still know ‘bout manual returns, when the bell rang? Needless to say, when I got to high school I took typing I and II. Think I learned to type early ‘cause I had things to say, still do. I like to type, it’s kinda like talking with your fingers.

Received a gift Friday last, a dandelion, that pretty little springtime friend of mine. She always comes back to grow and play in the green, green grass of home.

I’m so enjoying the sounds of springtime nights. So much so that the other night I decided to go out and visit those little sounds of the night. They’re frogs, ya know, those sounds that come to your ears from the darkness, from the nighttime. Those sounds come from little frogs called Spring Peepers.

Little fellers, them Spring Peepers, smaller than your thumb. But happy boys indeed, happy to be alive in the springtime. All the sounds from all those little boy frogs remind me of sleigh bells ringing. In fact, these little guys are called the Bells of Springtime. They’re certainly music to my new ears, those Bells of Springtime. This year is the first time I have heard the Bells of Springtime in a long time, a long time, and it’s still pretty music to my ears.

When the crushing cold of winter starts to yield to warmer times, as it does every year, even when we think it’ll never end, it does, and on a cold night, the wind is still, and the frost is heavy. The moon, a bright yellow ball hanging in a cloudless sky. While the air is so crisp ya could break with a hammer a movement starts under the dead leaves of autumn past. Life resurrecting.

First one eye, then the other, one leg moves, then the another. In a matter of minutes everything is working just the way he left ‘em when he dug deep under the leaves to freeze to death for the winter.
The little frog is coming back from a place between death and darkness, the twilight zone for frogs.
A Bell of Springtime is tuning up to ring.

I almost forgot to tell ya an interesting thing ‘bout not only the Peeps but all frogs. It’s the way they survive the winter. Now frogs have the ability to make their own kinda anti-freeze. I’m already starting to see some of my emails next week, laughing ‘bout the frog anti-freeze joke. Before ya start laughing, ya better check it out, ‘cause I’m telling ya I know a lot ‘bout frogs.

‘Cause one time when I was little, my Uncle Hagins took me frog hunting when I was at Southfork in the summertime. Now we didn’t go hunting for Peep regular frogs, oh no, we went hunting for the Giant Bullfrogs of Southfork.

Now ya gotta hunt these Giant Bullfrogs of Southfork in the creek bed where it’s dark and almost scary. At the place where the air smells like snakes and the sun never shines ‘cause the hills are too close together. The only thing there is the water, the smell of snakes, and maybe even the snakes, and the Giant Bullfrogs of Southfork, and some times, empty pop bottles.

We went right there, my Uncle Hagins and me. We went to hunt the Giant Bullfrogs of Southfork. And it didn’t take long to find ‘em. We found their trail a long ways before we got to the place where the air smelled like snakes, ‘cause that’s where Uncle Hagins said the Giant Bullfrogs of Southfork lived.

When Uncle Hagins showed me the Giant Bullfrog Tracks, at first I thought that it was a person’s footprint in the mud, but Uncle Hagins showed me the difference, ‘cause he knew ‘bout Giant Bullfrog Tracks and stuff like that. Uncle Hagins said if we just kept following those tracks it’d lead us right to the Giant Bullfrogs of Southfork.

To tell ya the truth, I was almost scared, but I knew that my Uncle Hagins wouldn’t let anything bad happen to me, ‘cause I was his favorite nephew, and he had a lot of nephews, so I just walked a little bit closer to him and didn’t tell him ‘bout me being almost scared an all. ‘Cause when you’re seven years old and out hunting Giant Bullfrogs of Southfork where it’s dark, that’s almost like being a man, so ya can’t say you’re afraid of anything. But I was, almost.

Then Uncle Hagins said “BobbyRay, you smell snakes?” That really, almost, made me scared. I said “yah” Uncle Hagins said “me too” I could hear my heart beat in my ears, but I wasn’t scared.

Uncle Hagins had in his hand a gig. Now a gig is a long stick with a prong on one end and it’s used to catch fish or frogs, and today we were gigging the Giant Bullfrogs of Southfork. Well when I thought my chest was gona break from my heart beating so fast in my ears, Uncle Hagins throws his gig into the water, runs over and pulls up this Giant Bullfrog of Southfork, stuck right there on the prongs of the gig. Uncle Hagins takes the Giant Bullfrog of Southfork off the hooks and no sooner than that, he throws again and in less than a minute we have two Giant Bullfrogs of Southfork. Uncle Hagins gigged two more Giant Bullfrogs of Southfork in just a few more minutes.

Then he said it’s my turn to gig a Giant Bullfrog of Southfork. Well, the pole of the gig was a lot taller than me, but I was bound and determined that I was gona gig a Giant Bullfrog of Southfork, or die from a snake bite trying right here in the waters of Southfork.

Two time I tried to throw the spear, but it didn’t go far enough. So Uncle Hagins said that maybe if we both held on at the same time maybe that would work. Now don’t ya know, the very first time me and Uncle Hagins threw that spear together it struck a Giant Bullfrog of Southfork. We had to throw five or six more times before we got another hit, but finally another trophy.

With 6 Giant Bullfrogs of Southfork in hand, Uncle Hagins said that he thought that was ‘bout all we could carry home. We started out for home with Uncle Hagins carrying his four Giant Bullfrogs of Southfork and me carrying my two Giant Bullfrogs of Southfork. That didn’t last long, after ‘bout a hundred yards or so, I had to stop and rest, ‘cause these Giant Bullfrogs were ‘bout to weight me down to the point where I couldn’t go no more. We rested a little while an started for home again, but same thing, ‘bout a hundred yards or so, I’m wanting to stop and rest from the heavy weight of these Giant Bullfrogs of Southfork.

Uncle Hagins said, the way he figured it, at the rate we were going, we’d get home ‘bout Christmas Time, if we were lucky, so he had to do something different. Uncle Hagins cut down two Willow Trees, one bigger than the other. On the bigger one, he cut a notch on each end. He took the smaller tree and took all the bark of it, and threw the skinned tree away. Uncle Hagins took the bark strips and tied up three Giant Bullfrogs of Southfork into two bundles, he then hooked these bundles over the ends of the pole with notches. He raised one end of the pole with the Giant Bullfrogs of Southfork and told me to help lift the other as he raised it to his shoulders. And I did, as Uncle Hagins picked up all the six Giant Bullfrogs of Southfork on his shoulders. We didn’t have to stop any more on the way home.

Talk ‘bout being surprised. Well they sure were surprised to see so many Giant Bullfrogs of Southfork. Uncle Hagins told ever body how good I was a gigging Giant Bullfrogs of Southfork, and how he was just lucky to get two and how I gigged four, I didn’t tell anybody the difference. I just thought maybe Uncle Hagins forgot who got who.

One of the down sides of hunting the Giant Bullfrogs of Southfork, is when ya catch ‘em, ya gotta clean ‘em. I’m not gona talk much ‘bout that, ‘cause that’s not as much fun as the gigging part. When ya do the cleaning, it’s kinda like cleaning fish, but ya don’t hear your heart beat in your ears though.

Well the thing that people eat from Bullfrogs are Bullfrog legs. Now regular Bullfrogs have little Bullfrog legs smaller than chicken legs. Not the Giant Bullfrogs of Southfork, these Bullfrog legs were the size big hams, each one weighing maybe 20 pounds apiece. Since the Bullfrog legs were so big, Lou said we should smoke ‘em in the Smoke House like Uncle Hagins did the hams when it was time to kill the pigs. Everybody thought that was a good idea. That night we put the cleaned Giant Bullfrog Legs of Southfork in the coldspring and went to bed. I could hardly sleep, thinking ‘bout me gigging those four Giant Bullfrogs of Southfork like Uncle Hagins said.

The first thing in the morning me and Uncle Hagins wrapped the Giant Bullfrog Legs and hung ‘em up on hooks from the top of the ceiling in the Smoke House. Then Uncle Hagins build the fires under the Smoke House, he knew how to do all that stuff, my Uncle Hagins knew how to do a lot of really neat stuff. He was my favorite uncle, and like Uncle Hagins having a lot of nephews, well I had a lot of uncles too.

I don’t remember how long they had to stay in the Smoke House, but we left Southfork and went home, and I started into the first grade at Weeksbury. We didn’t go back to Southfork till Thanksgiving. When my Aunt Gladys and my mama cooked our Thanksgiving Dinner, we didn’t have turkey, and we didn’t have goose, we had one Smoked Giant Bullfrog Leg. There were ‘bout 15 or 18 people there for dinner, and most everybody took leftover Smoked Giant Bullfrog Leg home for supper. Big frogs, those Giant Bullfrogs of Southfork.

But getting back to this frog anti-freeze thing, during the winter, a frog’s body temperature falls and its metabolism drops. Its heart can even stop beating and start again in the future. Too bad we the people can’t do that little trick. And we think we know magic. ‘Course we can do a lot of things frogs can’t.

Many frogs dig into mud or deep holes to escape killing frost, but some do practice controlled freezing. They produce excess sugars or starches to prevent damage to sensitive tissues while the remaining water in their bodies turns to ice. The North American wood frog, including the Peeps, live as far north as Alaska. They can survive with 65% of the water in their body frozen solid. I guess ya could take those little fellers, put ‘em on sticks and have Peepsicles.

Now those Giant Bullfrogs of Southfork, to this day, don’t ever worry ‘bout freezing in the wintertime, no, they just build themselves a campfire, sit around and tell stories ‘bout how little boys used to wade in the waters of Southfork looking for ‘em in the summertime.

Setting on the back of the chair, Sophia read the story as I typed, laughed so hard she damn near fell off the back of the chair, twice. Said she never knew frogs got that big. Told her they didn’t in Indiana. It’s a Kentucky thing.

Stay Safe in Iraq and Afghanistan

From the East Wing, With Sophia’s E-Mail, The Bells of Springtime, and the Giant Bullfrogs of Southfork

I wish you well,
BobbyRay

From the East Wing, With Early Birds, Lamb Cakes, The Winds of Time, Attack Dogs, The Nightlife of Springtime

2010-04-04T19:48:00.000-07:00

Greetings to all, and welcome new friends to the East Wing.

As I look to the south from the East Wing Windows my Maple Trees is almost popping their branches to push the leaves out to the sunshine. This cool crisp air of early morning is filled with birds, both in the air and just walking ‘round on the grass. These birds were awake before me, so I don’t know it the early one got it or not. But I do see one Robin out there who seems to be smiling a big lot. If he didn’t get the worm, he for sure got something this morning. Happy bird, that Robin.

And so I start my day by saying a very Happy Easter to all! It seems that as long as I can remember I’ve been asked the same question by somebody every Easter season, the question being how come Easter comes on different days and Christmas comes on the same day every year. One time I told somebody that the reason was Christmas is a federal holiday and Easter’s not. They believed it till I told ‘em different. Easter is the first Sunday after the first full moon after the Vernal Equinox.

Easter is the very bedrock of Christianity itself. Easter is the most Holy of all Holy Days of the year in the Christian Faith. With that being said, what ‘bout the rabbit?

It turns out Easter is kinda two things served up as one like peas & carrots in the same can. The Christian side of Easter is in the bible. Now don’t crazy on who’s bible I’m talking about, there’re several different bibles and they all tell the same story ‘bout the crucifixion and resurrection.

It’s important that we Christians don’t get too critical of somebody using a different bible than we do, a little research into the origin of bibles may both enlighten, embarrass or even resurrect deep dark questions on the back roads of your memories. Bibles are Bibles. If ya really want to have a truly moving experience, read a different bible than the one you use at church. Another idea, read any bible of your choice published over 100 years ago, ya may not recognize it as the same story.

Yet another suggestion would be read the gospel of Judas. Yes the gospel of Judas, now that one didn’t get into the big book and as a result never made it to the New York Times Top 10 List, but the Gospel of Judas does exist and just as the first four chapters of the New Testament tell the same story for the point of view of four different people, the Gospel of Judas tells the story from yet another point of view. It’s a gospel that many Christians would find very disturbing, that Gospel of Judas.

It’s easy to see how the word Christmas is identified with Christianity, not so with Easter.

Easter got its name from Eastre or Eostre the Anglo-Saxon goddess of fertility and rebirth. Along time ago people celebrated the beginning of spring at the vernal equinox, when day and night are equal in length, by blessing seeds before planting them and at the same time placing colored eggs on an altar. They believed that this ceremony would bring them fertility for the upcoming year.

When the early Christian missionaries noticed that a pagan party took place around the time of the resurrection of Christ, they adopted Easter as a Christian holiday to help attract the pagans to Christianity. This may explain why some of the TV preachers are such crooks instead of Christians, such crooks may well end up in the seventh layer of hell. Now I don’t know if Jim and Tammy Baker are/were saints or sinners, but I sure wouldn’t want my final place by their side, just in case. But who knows, their final resting place may well be in the arms of Abraham. It’s not my job to judge, just to tell the story.

As Christians adopted Easter, they matched the festival of the springtime with a sermon. Following the tradition of dressing up for church, Easter Sunday became a special occasion to wear your very best clothes. In fact, many regarded Easter as the first time to wear that new dress and "Easter Bonnet". In the early 1900's families would to stroll to church and home again on Easter to show off their "Sunday best."

Out East, it seemed to be more of a big deal than here in the Midwest. Songs, stage plays and even movies were made of the this “Easter Parade” of new spring clothing. At Toto we simply called ‘em “Church Clothes” and they were seldom new, just clean. We only got new clothes to start the school year, and for sure it was never “Church Clothes”.

The Easter basket evolved from a Catholic tradition, where families brought a basket of food to mass on Easter Sunday to have it blessed for the evening meal. Later, children would use Easter baskets to gather colored eggs and candy.

Now the Easter Bunny is a whole different deal. I don’t know a single person that didn’t at one time believe in both Santa Clause and the Easter Bunny. I did. Still do, just a little different view now.

Where does a rabbit handing out eggs come from? Not from Toto Indiana that’s for sure. I believe I heard when I was a kid that the Easter Bunny originated from Germany around the mid 1500’s or so and came to our country in the 1600’s thru the Pennsylvania Dutch. I knew a Dutch guy one time, his name was Moray.

Did ya color Easter Eggs this year? Why not? I’ve colored Easter Eggs all my life and this year was no different. I colored eggs on Good Friday with two special friends of mine, adopted grandboys, Evan and Colon. We colored eggs at Grand Central Station. After the egg coloring we decorated a Lamb Cake. Now most everybody’s seen a Lamb Cake, but did ya ever put the stuff on it? We did. The three of us decorated and decorated and decorated. When we got done, a white wooly lamb was lying on a bed of green grass.

Frosting was Cream Cheese, eyes were jelly beans, nose was chocolate chip, wool was shredded coconut, grass was green dyed coconut. A more spectacular lamb has never graced the halls of Grand Central Station. Such an artistic creation offered up for human consumption in this thing we call “Easter Brunch”.

And so the Lamb Cake will come again, along with the coloring of eggs, the Vernal Equinox to start another spring, another Easter will come, another Easter question as to why not the same day, and life goes on, with or without us, life goes on. It’s kinda a humbling thought to think how little we will be missed when we pass. Yes life goes on.

I went outside the other day in the wind and got to thinking ‘bout the system of identifying the wind velocity. Don’t know if ya ever heard of it or not, but it’s called the Beaufort Force. Beaufort was an Sea Captain and he came up with this idea while sailing on the oceans. To this day, it’s used at sea as well as on the land.

Now the Beaufort Force is a description of what ya feel and see when the wind blows. We can’t see the wind, we feel the wind and can see things that are affected by the force of the blowing wind, but can’t see the wind. The Beaufort Force goes from 0 to 12. Most everyone has heard of the descriptive parts of the Beaufort Force, I’ll bet very few have seen it all laid out at the same time with the miles per hour attached to the action of the wind.

0 Calm Smoke goes straight, up less than 1mph
1 Light air. Wind direction is shown by smoke drift but not by wind vane. 1-3 mph
2 Light breeze. Wind is felt on the face; leaves rustle; wind vanes move. 4-7 mph
3 Gentle breeze. Leaves and small twigs move steadily; wind extends small flags straight out. 8-12 mph
4 Moderate breeze. Wind raises dust and loose paper; small branches move. 13-18 mph
5 Fresh breeze. Small trees sway; waves form on lakes. 19-24 mph
6 Strong breeze. Large branches move; wires whistle; umbrellas are difficult to use. 25-31mph
7 Moderate gale. Whole trees are in motion; walking against the wind is difficult. 32-38 mph
8 Fresh gale. Twigs break from trees; walking against the wind is very difficult. 39-46 mph
9 Strong gale. Buildings suffer minimal damage; roof shingles are removed. 47-54 mph
10 Whole gale. Trees are uprooted. 55-63 mph
11 Violent storm. Widespread damage. 64-72 mph
12 Hurricane, widespread destruction. 73 mph and above

I’ve always been interested in the weather. I had a Weather Rock in Toto I used to use for weather forecasting, but I’ll save that story for another day.

The warm spring weather has turned Sophia into the Great Calico Hunter of Birds. The yard is now full of birds selecting nesting material. Sophia is offering her assistance and expertise in those matters. Sophia is a tree climber of extraordinary skills. She runs to the top of Maple Trees with the same grace as setting on the back of my chair.

She’s posted on her Facebook Page that she’s available for house calls on nesting consultation, and they talk ‘bout the wolf guarding the hen house.

Last week the worm turned, so to speak, in the East Wing. After hearing the cat break bad on the President for some time, the 2girldogs took matters in their own paws and put the cat in the trick box. Sophia was given a lesson in Chicago Style Politics, dog eat dog, so to speak.

The 2girdogs marched into the cat house, backed Sophia into a corner and then the Gray Lady, the most gentle creature of the East Wing said “ I’ve got something to say to you, you Limbaugh loving, Glen Beck suck up, Sara Palin protector, Tea Party joiner, you miserable pathetic piece of cat flesh. It’s cats like you that make the President’s job hard. I’m sick and tired of hearing from you loser cats. And you have the guts to call the President a piece of crap, then you’re a piece of worthless cat carp yourself, so there!”

Whereupon Mustina, the Pup Baby, jumped into the fray, and with all the protection afforded her by the company of her mother in the face of hostility, and with a grin from ear to ear, said “YAH !”

The Pup Baby’s command of the dog language is not the most extraordinary to say the least. Nobody ever said Pup Baby’s a Rocket Scientist. But she can bark in both Spanish and Italian. She’s trying to learn to bark in Chinese, but hasn’t got the yang of it yet.

Nighttime has come to the East Wing, this Easter Evening, 2010. I set in the darkness with light only from the screen, with all the 2girldogs asleep on their couches. Sophia in her usual place on the back of my chair. All the doors are open and the sounds of the spring nighttime have come inside the East Wing. I’m enjoying sounds I’ve not heard for some twenty years. The magic of my new digital hearing aids. I’d forgotten how much alive the spring nighttime is with the sound of fellows looking for a date.

Just when I thought I was done for the night, Sophia whispered in my ear, “damn democrats, always try to kill the messenger and never address the message. I’ll get those 2girldogs, just wait and see”.

Stay safe in Iraq and Afghanistan

From the East Wing, Early Birds, Lamb Cakes, The Winds of Time, The Gray Lady Attacks, Pup Baby Learning Chinese, The Nightlife of Springtime

I wish you well,
BobbyRay

From the East Wing, With A Mad Cat, 2Happy girldogs, VP & The "F" Word, Stargazing, Dirt Digging Hillbilly

2010-03-28T18:32:00.000-07:00

Greetings to all, and welcome new friends to the East Wing.

“ Hell hast no fury like a cat scorned”. “Few things in life are more dangerous than a scorned cat. The cat’s scorned. Sophia’s on the war path and looking for democrats all. She doesn’t have to put on the war paint, it’s built in and ready, and now the cat’s ready too. Hell hast no fury….

Sophia tells me that for a full year she laughed at and ignored the democrats on their health care thing. Knowing full well it effected people only, not cats. Says she even made fun of the whole thing, took it all is as just a people joke. The cat was wrong. On page one thousand nine hundred twenty three of two thousand seven hundred ninety six pages, the second paragraph on that page identifies how the Veterinary Health Care Program is to be rationed out under, as Sophia puts it, “the democrat disaster”.

All Veterinary Medicine is to fall under the new system. All those currently working in the field of Veterinary Medicine are to be mustered in as Federal Employees no later than May 1, 2010.

To ensure that the utmost care and consideration for all of God’s creatures is guaranteed, the President looked long and hard to find the most qualified of all candidates to head up these extremely vital social programs. After close to a year of deliberation, and the weeding out process of candidates from across the nation, the President has selected the Rev. Jessie Jackson the person appointed by the President to head up the Feline Division of the Veterinary Care Administration. The Rev. Jackson’s official title is the “Cat Czar”.

The Rev Jackson will occupy office spaces in Chicago, on the south side of Chicago, the baddest part of town, in an area formerly controlled and occupied by a man named Lee Roy Brown. The Rev Jackson is expected to set up shop in a South Side Cat House. With his background and experience in such matters, President Obama has expressed this confidence that the Rev. Jackson to do quite well in a Cat House. Sophia is furious. She swears retaliation for those responsible for such atrocities on the American Cat Nation.

Sophia said, she, as the official spokes cat for the NRCCC (National Republican Calico Cat Conference) she will carry the message from cats across the country directly to the White House, that she will never tire until the people’s White House is occupied by a good cat, not a democrat.

As the NRCCC Spokes Cat, Sophia said the she considers President Obama the most worthless piece of democrat crap to ever bubble up through the bowls of a corrupt Illinois political system, even more crap than the former governor Milorad "Rod" Blagojevich and the current Mayor Dailey. The cat does come on strong, from time to time, when she lights up the war paint.

She tells that all cats are now required to purchase their own Veterinary Medicine Insurance before the first day of summer 2010. Cats not in compliance with the VMIP (Veterinary Medicine Insurance Program) are to be rounded up and subjected to a micro chip implanted in their brain, which will allow satellite monitoring anywhere on earth. Any cat seeking medical services without being enrolled in the VMIP will be disposed of from the office of the Cat Czar by remote control under the direct orders issued from the White House, which is the enforcing authority of the new Veterinary Medicine Care Law.

What really got Sophia’s goat was when she found out that all Registered Republican Calico Cats are to be assessed and additional 15% surtax onto their VMIP, due to a democrat funded research study in 2008 which established that Republican Calico Cats have a higher blood pressure than democratic girldogs and as such, are a higher health care risk as they are more apt to require health service from any new system.

The 2girldogs have no problem at all with the new health care system, they are quite pleased that the President has named Rev. Al Sharpton the director of the Canine Division of the Vet Care Administration. The Rev. Al and the Canine Division of will be enshrined in the new 500 million dollar Vet Care Administration complex in the heart of Detroit City. Rev. Al’s official title is “Big Dog of Detroit” The Detroit City complex is a small part of the administration’s plan to revitalize the intercity of America, starting with downtown Detroit.
As for the requirement to purchase dog health care insurance, the 2girldogs qualify for the government assistance program, and as such they will not be required to pay for their own insurance coverage, that means Sophia will have to subsidize the 2girldogs’s insurance. Just another reason the cat’s blood pressure boils.

Sophia says the health care law is the first step that our government has taken to mandate how we spend our money. The Pup Baby says “what money, I don’t have any money”. Then Sophia told the Pup Baby a story ‘bout a fellow in Europe many years ago, back in the 1800’s who had an idea ‘bout how things should work with everybody living happy ever after, with the government taking care of things for all. I believe she said his name was Marx, I think she said his first name was Carl, ‘cept he spelled it with a K. She said he summarized his approach to society in the first line of chapter one of a book he wrote, called his book his “Communist Manifesto”, wrote that book back in 1848: "The history of all hitherto existing society is the history of class struggles."

Interesting that the cat would bring up such a topic in light of the fact that our government has in effect taken control of 1/6th of our economy, after taking control of the banking, insurance and American automobile industry all in less than two years. And all the while increasing the national debt fourfold without as much as a whimper from many. A change ya can believe in? Sometimes you’re wrong in what ya thank is right.

How’d like Joe Biden laying the ole F--- word on worldwide TV? Now I’ve never been a Joe Biden fan and make no bones ‘bout it, but that one stepped over more than a line. That stepped into the realm of national embarrassment. And to compound the issue, the President condoned the language, when the next morning is quoted as saying “the best thing about yesterday was Joe’s comment”.

When the Vice President of the United States lays the “F” word on the President of the United States and the President laughs it off, how can society expect a cleaner language from anybody. I expect to next hear the “F” word from the President’s own Press Secretary, after all, if he allows his Vice President to use offensive language, I’m sure there will be no objection for the Press Secretary using the same words as the Vice President uses in public.

In fact, the President has rewarded the Vice President for having quick wit in coming up with such an appropriate introduction for the health care bill signing into law, the President has appointed Joe Biden to become the “Language Czar” and expects the Vice President to come up with a listing of inappropriate words which will be illegal to be spoken by any citizen under the age of 40. The Vice President is expected to complete his list within 5 years. Or when voted out of office, whichever comes first. The Vice President indicated that he may rely on the Rap Music Industry in a consulting capacity.

Five Billion Dollars of the Stimulus Money has been made available to properly fund the work of the “Language Czar”. Language consultants don’t come cheap.

A few weeks ago I proposed no one use language that ya wouldn’t say to your mother or grandmother. I still sick to that proposal. I gotta, I still take my mama to lunch every Friday at Richards of Toto, and today, this Palm Sunday, I also took mama to lunch at Richards of Toto. It was during the small talk time at the table, that time between placing the order and the food arriving, that mama said “Did ya happen to hear what the Vice President said on TV the other day?” I said “yes mama I heard”, she said “if you’d ever say something like that in public, I’d make it a point to slap your face on live TV. I’d call channel 22 from South Bend and have ‘em come down just to show the world that in the Howard Family we don’t go for that kinda dirty talk.” I hope Joe Biden never meets my mama in person, she may decide to dish out her own form of justice delayed.

With the passing of my brother-in-law, Ed, I’ve just been reluctant to unpack my telescope and star gaze. For those who may not know the story, Ed gave me the telescope as a Christmas present a few years ago, and we talked a lot ‘bout stargazing. Ed had a great telescope but for the last several years of his life, health issues prevented him from stargazing. Well, I had marked on my calendar some time back the date of March 25th.

March 25th was to be the best time to look at the planet Mars this year. All the conditions were just right to allow the best view of Mars. March 24th I woke to bright sunshine, and I’m thinking it’s gona be a great day, and it was. The 25th, I woke to the rain and dark foreboding clouds. On the way to work, I’m listening to a weather forecast that don’t hold out much hope for clear sky at night. Last Thursday night was cold and cloudy, really cold and really cloudy. I must have gone outside 10 time over the course of the evening just to see if there was any chance of a break in the clouds. There was none, oh well, there will always be another night, another time to gaze at the stars. Particularly since the latest estimate of stars in the universe just increased by at least a billion, a billion estimated new stars added to the ones we already estimated about. Ya can’t help but wonder, how can ya miss a billion stars? That’s a lot. Summer stargazing with warm breezes, I’m looking forward to stargazing with my adopted grand boys and girl. We’ll stargaze on the north deck come the summertime.

Gray Lady James, the Captain of the 2girldog team, seems to be demonstrating signs of extreme old age. The Gray Lady came to me one day in November 1999, starved, abused and pregnant. I gave her food shelter and a warm place to have a baby. She had one baby in January 2000. The Pup Baby, Mustina James. And now there are signs that the end of the Gray Lady’s life is drawing closer. I’m glad all good dogs go to heaven. She’ll laugh and she’ll play in heaven, and wait for her Pup Baby.

I’m amazed at how many people buried animals in the summer time just for something to do. ‘Bout half my email last week referred to doing just that, and as usual the other half was email to the cat. It’s kinda funny, but I can rant and rave all I want and very few will take the time to say anything ‘bout it one way or the other, but let Sophia the Republican Cat say something and I then spend 3 or 4 hours the next week answering her email. Damn Republican Cat!

Even with the cold of last Thursday night, it’s getting SOOO close to dirt digging. I love digging in the dirt in the springtime. Something ‘bout dirt digging and planting a garden, must be a hillbilly thing or something, ‘cause every year toward the end of March, I’m looking to dig in the dirt.

I love to plant gardens, they never grow very well, but I sure do like to do ‘em. Maybe this year things will grow differently and I’ll have major corps in everything I plant. Done that upside down tomato bag last year. Wasted $19.99 and the tomatoes didn’t work in the bag as well as in the big planters on the pool deck. Maybe that’s why the other day I saw one of those upside down tomato bags for sale at the Dollar General Store for $5.00 Oh well, at least I didn’t buy two last year. I almost did.

Stay safe in Iraq and Afghanistan,

From the East Wing, With a Mad Cat, 2 Happy girldogs, VP & The “F” Word, Stargazing, Dirt Digging Hillbilly.

I wish you well,
BobbyRay

From the East Wing With a Dog Along The Way, The Toto Volunteers, and The Funeral Church of Toto

2010-03-21T18:34:00.000-07:00

Greetings to all, and welcome new friends to the East Wing.

On the way home the other day, driving out here in the country, no house within ½ mile or so, I saw something in the road a ways up ahead. As I got closer, I realized it was a dog that had been hit by a car or maybe a truck. Either way it was easy to tell the dog was dead.

It was a big dog in the middle of the road. I stopped to move the dog to the side of the road, which I did. But on the way home I just couldn’t stop thinking ‘bout that dog. Got to thinking ‘bout an old song I once heard sung in a black church in Weeksbury KY. When I was just a kid, went there with my dad.

He was some mother’s baby
He was some mother’s child
Once he was fair
And once he was mild.
But Some mother rocked him
Her baby to sleep
But they left him to die
Like a tramp on the street

He was a pretty dog, part shepherd, maybe part retriever, and I believe a big part just good ole boy dog. Brown and white and, even in death, ya could just tell, he was a good dog. He looked much too young to die that day..

By the time I got home the decision had already been made, I’d go back and bury the dog close to where he died there on the road. I got the shovel and took the post hole diggers along just in case the ground was still frozen at the puppy cemetery in which I was about to dig.

The ground was not frozen and the digging was easy. One good thing ‘bout Starke County Sand, ya can dig holes easy most everywhere. As I buried one of God’s neglected creatures right there close beside where he died, I got to thinking ‘bout how much fun we had a kids in downtown Toto burring whatever animal that happened to die in Toto or along the roads for miles around.

We didn’t have the Boys and Girls Club for summer activity in downtown Toto, but we did have the Army, officially known as the Toto Volunteers and we had the Funeral Church. Now both these organizations served the public interest of Toto with a great deal of community pride. I was active in both groups. I served as the general in the army and the preacher at the church.

We were an army of 12, with 7 bb guns, 12 sling shots, 6 wagons and 4 bicycles, 14 dogs and 6 little brothers. The job of our army was much like the job of any army today. We protected our stuff. We protected Toto. We protected each other. We were proud, we were brave, we were the Toto Volunteers. We still are.

The Funeral Church was different, we didn’t protect stuff, we took care of God’s dead creatures. Jobs were assigned to most everybody. Those who owned wagons got the job of finding corpses so we could have funerals. Sometimes we would go for days with nothing to bury, and all of a sudden we would get a bunch of stuff and have to have two or even three funerals in one day.

I remember one day I preached so much and so loud that my voice hurt when I talked. Back then preaching was a tuff job, with no loud speakers or anything like they got today. Today ya don’t have to yell even if you’re preaching to a crowd.

Now with my dad being a Baptist Preacher, I had plenty of opportunity to attend many people funerals. That’s why I decided that I should be the Preacher at the Funeral Church. And besides, there was no one else who knew how to preach except me, and another thing was that every boy in the Funeral Church was also in the Toto Volunteers and I was the general in that army.

We had people assigned to sing and people assigned to cry. People assigned to pray and people assigned to shout, and people assigned to testify . People assigned to gather the flowers and people assigned to dig the graves. Most everybody, ‘cept me took turns being “the family”. I couldn’t take my turn, ‘cause I had to do the preaching. Now the family of the deceased had to cry a lot and carry on more than the rest of ‘em at the funeral.

Most of the time we didn’t have any, but If we did have any money on the days we had funerals, the “family members” for that day got to decide what we would buy with the money. Whatever was bought was divided by the number of people who attended the funeral. I had a pocket knife and I divided it up with my knife. I can still to this day cut a candy bar into 20 slices if I have to. It may be harder today, Milky Way’s are a lot smaller now than then. Twinkie’s are a lot less too, but they cut easier.

It was a rare day that we had enough money for a bottle of pop, but if we did, ya took a swig and passed it on. Now if ya took too much drink and someone yelled doubles, then we voted and if ya lost, ya missed the next round of drinks when it’s your turn. We watched each other drink real close.

One time a wagon came back from a collection trip with a snake, we had a lot of people who didn’t want to bury a snake. One girl who’s turn it was to get flowers for the funeral said there was no such thing as snake flowers and she’s wasn’t gona go look for any flowers for a snake, ever. I knew that something had to be done real fast or else I’m gona have a big mess on my hands ‘bout this dead snake.

So I goes over and look at the snake one more time and say “has anybody ever seen an eel?” Nobody had ever seen and eel in their whole life. So I say “I don’t think that’s’ a snake, I think that’s an eel.” One boy said he thought it was still a snake, so I said we would all vote, and if it’s was a snake we wouldn’t have a funeral, we’d just go throw it in the ditch, but if it’s an eel, then God would want us to bury the eel.

The vote was 14 to nothing in favor of the eel. We buried that eel in our cemetery, right next to the little red squirrel from the day before. I was so glad that it turned out to be an eel, ‘cause I sure didn’t want to preach the funeral of dead a snake.

It was several years later before I saw another eel, and it just didn’t seem to look very much like the eel we buried in Downtown Toto in 1955.

Sometimes the Funeral Church was fun and sometimes it was sad. Now when someone’s own dog or cat got killed and we had to do a real pet funeral, that was sad. But one thing I learned from my dad ‘bout preaching the funerals was, never preach ‘em into hell. So I never did.

That was the way of some hillbilly Baptist Preachers back then, when a person died and had not professed their Christianity from the hilltops, some of those Baptist Preachers had the fortitude to stand up and preach the dead sinner into the depths of hell. They called those type the “Hard Shell Baptist”, now these same Hard Shell Baptist also believed they’d be the only ones who’d enter in the Kingdom of Heaven.

My dad had a different point of view on that sorta thing, “God don’t judge man until after he dies, so why should I”, I heard my dad say many times. He also said that whatever words that are spoken at any funeral are for those in attendance, not the deceased, so speak kind and gentle words at all funerals. I always did.

One day somebody found a frog that had been run over ‘bout a hundred twenty seven times on the road. Well, when the collector brought this frog in, everybody laughed and laughed, ‘cause we seldom every got anything round like a plate, dead as a frog.

One of the boys said we should bury the frog in a round hole, and his dad had a post hole digger that he could get. He went home and came back dragging the post hole digger. The problem we had to deal with right up front was, the post hole digger was too tall. In fact, the post hole digger was taller than any of the boys. That post hole digger was taller than everybody ‘cept one girl, and she’d never seen a post hole digger in her whole life, but she was taller than a post hole digger.

Me and the boy who got his dad’s post hole digger tried to make it work, but it turns out that post hole diggers are for bigger boys than we were, and two can’t do it, only one can make a post hole digger dig holes. So the regular grave diggers dug the grave for the frog with their shovels. They made is kinda round, but not real round, it was kinda like egg round, but it fit the frog good, ‘cause the frog was not real round either. The frog was kinda egg round too.

The flower girl for that day got some of that green stuff that grows on ponds in the summer time. She thought it would be good for the frog funeral. Everybody agreed that it was just the right kind a flowers for a round dead frog funeral. That same day the collectors had found enough returnable pop bottles for the Funeral Church to purchase a 12oz Pepsi. We watched each other drink real close.

Memories of the Toto Funeral Church were interrupted when a car stopped beside me and asked if I needed help. I said no, I was just burying a dog that had been killed on the road today.

It was just almost totally dark when the last shovel full went into place on that grave site, and then, in the presence of God and only the little night creatures that make the sounds of the springtime, I Preached the Gospel according to BobbyRay for a brown and white dog I had never known.

It was a sad feeling when I thought ‘bout what a short life this pretty dog had lived, and wondered if he ever met the 2girldogs. As I turned away and started walking to my car, and looking up into the cold night sky, I was so happy to see that brown and white dog running and playing with the Angels, ‘cause everybody knows that all good dogs go to heaven.

When I got home that night, they all knew, they just knew, the 2girldogs Sophia, Sarah and the Angel, they all knew. I don’t know how, but, they did. I had not much more than sat down when Sophia climbed onto my lap and laid down, something she had never done in her whole life, she always sits on the back of my chair. Sophia just looked at me and smiled that special way as if to say, “it’s ok, ya still go me in your life” Not one time that whole night did Sophia say anything that made the 2girldogs mad a wet hens. Nor did she try to kill either Sarah or the Angel. Peaceful harmony that night. We hugged and told stories by the warmth of the fireplace in the East Wing till way past everybody’s bed time.

Stay safe in Iraq and Afghanistan.

From the East Wing, With a Dog Along The Way, The Toto Volunteers, And the Funeral Church of Toto

I wish you well,
BobbyRay

From the East Wing, On To Fast Time, Garden Buddies, Bobby Knight's Cat, Sophia's Doritos, And Dirty Snow

2010-03-14T19:32:00.000-07:00

Greetings to all, and welcome new friends to the East Wing.

Every year there’s something that just tells ya spring just “right around the corner”. Some may say seeing the first Robin, or the first green thing pushing its self through the dirt. For me, it’s the first time I feel the warmth of the sunshine on bare skin. I don’t care who ya are, that’s a springtime feeling.

It’s surprising what a few degrees of angle of the sun in relationship to the earth can make when it comes to being warm or just being daylight. Guess that’s why the Democrats and Republicans are not in charge of that sorta thing. Can ya just imagine if people like Barney Frank or Joe Biden were in charge of moving the sun around the universe? It’s scary enough with just what those two do now, much less given the extra work of sun moving. Course Barney Frank could maybe get some help from Twinkle Toes, seems he has some connections in that area of twinkle.

Here we go again on this fast time kick. Spring forward, fall back, dumb and dumber. Sure would be nice to be on the same time all year long. Did ya ever wonder why?

Today is the beginning of Daylight Saving Time, time for moving the clocks one hour ahead. The exceptions are Arizona, Hawaii, Puerto Rico, the Virgin Islands, and American Samoa.

Benjamin Franklin, was the first who suggested daylight savings time in 1784, they laughed at him. In the early part of the last century a fellow named William Willett, proposed a similar system in the pamphlet “The Waste of Daylight”. They laughed at him too.

The Germans were the first to officially adopt the daylight-extending system in 1915 as a fuel-saving measure during World War I. The British switched one year later, and the United States followed in 1918, all for the same reasons. In 1918 Congress passed the Standard Time Act, which established our time zones across the country.. This experiment in jerking ‘round with the time lasted only until 1920, when the law was repealed due to opposition from dairy farmers. It turned out that cows don't pay attention to clocks and very few have watchers. Don’t know how many times ya’ve been in a barn, but ya seldom see any clocks on barn walls, in fact, ya seldom see anything on barn walls. During World War II, Daylight Saving Time was imposed again, year around, and for the same reason as during the first world war, to save fuel. Now I don’t know if we now save anything or not but I do know we sure make folks mad every time we change the clock. Forward or back.

Now in the United States, Daylight Saving Time commences at 2:00 a.m. to minimize disruption. However, many states restrict bars from serving alcohol between 2:00 a.m. and 6:00 a.m. At 2:00 a.m. in the fall, however, the time switches back one hour. So, can bars serve alcohol for that additional hour? Some states claim that bars actually stop serving liquor at 1:59 a.m., so they have already stopped serving when the time reverts to Standard Time, Yah Right. Other states get solve the problem by saying that liquor can be served until "two hours after midnight." In practice, however, many establishments stay open an extra hour in the fall. I think most bars that find themselves in that situation just lets the drunks vote whether to serve another round or not.

Another good reason to choose 2:00 AM to switch the time is it prevents the day from switching to yesterday, which would be confusing to say the least. It is early enough that the entire continental U.S. switches by daybreak, and the changeover occurs before most early shift workers and early churchgoers are affected.

Much effort is put into making the time switch a safety reminder “time”. Many fire departments encourage people to change the batteries in their smoke detectors when they change their clocks because Daylight Saving Time provides a convenient reminder. A working smoke detector more than doubles a person's chances of surviving a home fire. More than 90 percent of homes in the United States have smoke detectors, but one-third are estimated to have dead or missing batteries. I checked mine.

Seems we just get the ole clock deal settled get everybody on the same time page, and we jump head first into the Ides of March. “Beware the ides of March” is for most people one of only two lines ever remembered from William Shakespeare’s works, the other being that Romeo thing, ya know what I’m talking ‘bout, where he’s at and all.

The word ides comes from a Latin word meaning “to divide.” The most memorable thing ‘bout Marsh 15th was the assassination of Julius Caesar on that day in 44 B.C. Now Julius Caesar was an interesting fellow, not only did he change the way the world was calculating stuff, like days and months, he also created the concept of lucky and unlucky days. One thing for sure, March 15th was not his lucky day. He’d been better off to have gone fishing that day for sure. Course it they didn’t get him that day, then March 16th would’ve been an unlucky day.

Yesterday afternoon, me and the she were on our way to a birthday party for twin girls turning 80, Doreen and Doretta, when she said she could hardly wait to start digging in the dirt this spring, even said she was gona grow a garden.

With that idea in mind, I got to thinking that it takes more than good soil, sunshine, and rain to make a garden grow. Plants have to grow well with one another. Just like people, some are friends and some are foes! Just like people, some plants just plain don’t like each other.

Now dill and basil planted among tomatoes protect the tomatoes from hornworms, and sage scattered about the cabbage patch reduces injury from cabbage moths. While Marigolds are as good as gold when grown with just about any garden plant, repelling beetles, nematodes, and even animal pests like rabbits and squirrels

There are even some companion plants that will act as traps, luring insects to themselves. Nasturtiums, for example, are so favored by aphids that the devastating little bas#%$#@s will flock to them instead of other plants.

Things like carrots, dill, parsley, and parsnips attract garden heroes, praying mantises, ladybugs, and spiders, that dine on insect pests.
A plant like white garlic can repel a plethora of pests, along with one hillbilly BobbyRay, and make excellent neighbors for most garden plants. Soup beans don’t grow well in the presence of garlic, and I’m not surprised.

Now potatoes and beans grow poorly in the company of sunflowers, and although cabbage and cauliflower are closely related, they don’t like each other at all. Cabbage and cauliflower sounds like some families I know.

The idea of companion planting is common sense: Lettuce, radishes, and other quick-growing plants sown between hills of melons or winter squash will mature and be harvested long before these vines need more leg room.

Now if ya like reality TV, Bet you’d like what’s going on in the garden. Talk ‘bout live drama, just watch the praying mantises, ladybugs and spiders go to work. WOW ! Now while ya’ve taken the time to stop and smell the roses by watching live Garden TV, if ya want to see a really productive society, find yourself an ant hill, just watch for a few minutes at what’s going on, you’ll know what I mean.

Ya gotta keep in mind that gardening’s not rocket science. If it were so, we’d all been starved to death long time ago. Seems we’ve been planting gardens ever since we stopped being hunter-gathers. Guess the only good thing going for that hunter-gathering lifestyle is ya got to see a lot of the county. That was back before the interstate roads. I think it was even before Route 66. They had an unusual means of transportation back then, it was called walking. Can ya imagine walking a thousand miles at twenty five miles a day. Now that would make for a long day indeed, and to make matters worse, like it even needed to get worse, there’s no Holiday Inns or Cracker Barrels along the way.
Some time back I came across one of the more enjoyable web sites I’ve seen in a long time. Not sure if I passed this site along or not, but if ya want to enjoy old radio listening then this is a must visit site. http://www.myoldradio.com/index.php ENJOY THE MUSIC, ENJOY THE STORIES. For those who have never heard this type radio, you’ll be surprised, for those who remember, precious memories, how they linger. Memory Lane.

Another sure sign of spring is the NCAA Men’s Basketball Tournament. Sophia has gone through a cat size box of Kleenex in the last several hours after her Indiana Hoosiers were not invited to the big show. I don’t think Sophia likes basketball, she just likes the red and white colors of the Hoosiers. She did say that while in Indiana, Bobby Knight has a Calico Republican Cat named Bouncer Balls. I don’t even know if that true or not, just what the cat said. Course ya gotta keep in mind her current mental state with the Hoosiers on the bench.

To get Sophia out of the dumps we just shared Nacho Cheese Doritos. It’s hard for a cat to be down in the dumps when ya pull out the Nacho Cheese Doritos on ‘em. The smile on that cats face, you’d think she’d seen a republican. Calicos are like that, yah they are.

Sure did enjoy the extra daylight today, am looking forward to tomorrow and the next day and the next day….. Tis the springtime for sure. Mustina’s already talking ‘bout dog days. The 2girldogs are big on the Dog Days of Summer. It’ll be here before ya know it. But in the mean time we gotta usher in the official start of spring when the Vernal equinox occurs on March 20, 2010.

We’ve laughed and we’ve played in the East Wing the last Sunday of this winter, 2009 – 2010. And all the while winter is melting away, leaving all the garbage which we collectively threw into the snow thinking no one would see. And now we all see.

Those whom throw into the snow should be embarrassed. Ya gotta keep in mind, God didn’t put the beautiful white snow here for your personal garbage dump. I hope everybody who reads this will feel compelled go back out there and pick their stuff up along the way, where they threw it out. I’ll see ya out there while I’m getting my stuff too.

I think I may have to go back to Georgia, I’m sure I have to go to Tennessee, and maybe Kentucky. Maybe the next time me and Mr. Lincoln go somewhere, I’ll take a garbage bag. Such a good idea.

As this evening draws to a close in the East Wing, the 2girldogs dreaming of the Dog Days of Summer while Sophia’s busy hatching a plot to derail the democrats this coming fall, we’ve enjoyed your company once again, and as such we do look forward to your next visit on the first Sunday of Spring.

Stay safe in Iraq and Afghanistan

From the East Wing, On To Fast Time, Garden Buddies, Bobby Knight’s Cat, Sophia’s Doritos, And Dirty Snow

I wish you well,
BobbyRay