She Has No Idea ....

I had an interesting exchange with my forty-ish daughter on the way back from a very good lunch at the Cheesecake Factory yesterday.  Sheila mentioned that her fiance' Robert might like to go squirrel hunting with me sometime.  Robert is a Wyoming boy and has probably seen his share of how meat is actually produced but then again, things like squirrel hunting are very much an individual preference.

Noticing Robert's discomfort at the idea, I tried to get him off the hook by saying as much, basically that dressing up in camo, sitting dead still in the woods for hours, and then shooting, skinning, gutting  and cooking a small, furry, woodland creature might not be everybody's idea of fun.  My daughter shot back, "Well, you've never done anything like that in your life either."  She then mentioned a couple of our woodsier relatives as folks who would but laughed at the notion that her suit wearing, technology addicted father even could.

In a flash, it occurred to me that she had no earthly idea what life was like growing up on a farm in the 1950's.  Fried chicken for dinner was not a matter of pulling something out of the freezer.  When the decision was made, dinner was walking around someplace in the yard, pecking at rocks, worms and insects.  The decision was followed by an order, "Billy, go kill a chicken."  Soon after, the carcass would be plucked, cleaned and finally seared to remove pin feathers before it was cut up and put in the pan.

Fish for dinner did not mean pulling out the frozen fish sticks either.  You caught the fish, cleaned the fish and cooked the fish.  Same for squirrel.  You shot the squirrel, cleaned the squirrel, cooked the squirrel.  Same for rabbit.  These were not deep, dark pieces of woodsman's lore.  They were household tasks if you wanted meat for dinner.  I was probably ten or twelve the first time I ate store bought chicken at home.  The only fish we ever had was caught by someone in the family.

When I was growing up, little boys fished in the summer.  Period.  It was what you did.  Some did a lot more than others and some took a lot more joy from it than others but everybody did.  In the fall and winter you hunted squirrels and rabbits.  You ate what you killed.  It was a major sin and a sign of a lack of character to take life needlessly.   So, if you killed it or caught it, unless is was pest or nuisance species, SOMEBODY was going to eat it. 

Obviously not me, pic from the net.

Some of the best days of my childhood were spent roaming the fields and woods with my trusty .22 single shot.  That gun is sitting in the corner of my office right now, wearing a vintage Weaver scope probably worth twice as much as the gun.  It is still a tack driver and has the smoothest trigger of any weapon I have ever fired.  It is probably the most accurate weapon I own and it is certainly the simplest.  That gun cost my father nearly a week's wages.  He bought on lay away at Buster Brown's Jot Em Down Store on Factory Row in Ft. Smith, Arkansas.  It has provided hundreds of hours of fun, a degree of protection and even occasional meat for the table now for over sixty years.

I love the outdoors but have never been much of a hunter or fisherman.  Simple reason, it is much easier to buy food than kill it.  Twice in my life, I worked for companies that manufactured fishing equipment and so I had to be technically competent with the equipment.  But now, in my latter years, these things I did as a kid when there was nothing else to do are becoming more and more attractive to me.  I will go squirrel hunting again soon and in the process scout the place for my turkey blind.  I am going to try to take one of the big birds this year.  For five years, I worked on a commercial turkey farm where hurting one the senseless creatures was a firing offense even though that evil, terminally stupid but very tasty beast was beating you to death with its powerful wings and crapping all over  you in process.  I have cherished the thought of killing one for my entire life.  This may be the year.  Watch out TOM, I'm coming for you!
 

We Spent About A Week In A Caboose Last Night ...

.....or at least it seemed like a week before the night was over.

Sheila and I enjoy getting away together. We try to do it fairly often. Of late, we have taken to renting small, remote cabins in Southern and Southeastern Oklahoma for our getaways. I guess we have gotten spoiled by "The Little Cabin In The Woods" in Octavia, Oklahoma which I am quickly discovering to be the gold standard for this type of establishment. The Caboose was not in the same league or even close. The picture above shows where we stayed. You will notice that our luggage is placed by the steps. This picture was NOT taken as we were arriving. It WAS taken this morning as we were leaving after Sheila and I both decided we would rather leave, even if we had to forfeit the rental for the second night that we had booked and paid for in advance, than spend another night there.

Where to begin ... well, there was no bed, just a futon. If you are eighteen, futons may be OK. But, two people of our age do not tolerate a thin futon pad very well. And, the placement of the futon made it such that if the inside person had be get up in the middle of the night, there was no way to do it without waking the other. And of course, two people who are accustomed to sleeping in a king size bed are likely to pull the cover and uncover each in the night as well, which would have been OK if there was heat, but there wasn't. And, supposing that one person gave up on the torture rack called a futon and simply decided to let the other sleep and nap in a chair that couldn't be done because the futon was also the sofa and the ONLY place to sit in the whole place. Before dawn, I wound up going to the car, reclining a seat which made a much more comfortable bed than the cursed futon, and napping there for a while. Something about paying a hundred and a half a night to sleep in my car just did not sit right.

Come breakfast time, we noticed that there was no oven in the unit, just a two burner cook-top. There was a toaster oven stuffed under the cook-top with the pots and pans but be darned if I could figure out where to place it. I wound up cooking our biscuits on the stove-top. I didn't bring any regular bread, just a tiny can of biscuits. Ditto for the coffee maker. I am certainly glad I brought our French Press and could make coffee from water boiled on the stove top because again, there was just not enough room to prepare food and place the coffee maker on the miniscule counter space available.

By nine AM, I was analyzing my thoughts. Why was I so tired? Why was I so peeved? And most of all why was I ready to leave even if I did lose money on the deal? After a few moments, it came to me. There wasn't a single comfortable place to sit and relax in the whole unit. The futon as a couch was a torture device for a person with back or knee problems and the futon as a bed was even worse. There was a yard swing on the deck, but it was hung too high and required careful adjustment of bottom, knees and body to perch upon without falling flat on your *ss. And then, in the back of my mind other things came up as well. Little Cabin The Woods was always spotlessly clean. The Caboose wasn't exactly dirty but the weeping rust spots on the sides and condition of the deck, especially the grease spots near the barbecue, didn't exactly make a good impression. To other people, weeping rust and a dirty deck might not make as much of an impression but to an ex-sailor they are signs of a badly kept ship. That made me look closer at other areas and I wasn't impressed.

When we phoned the proprietress and told her we were leaving, I had hoped that she would volunteer a refund for the second night. We didn't ask for a refund. I am fully aware of the terms of the contract we signed. Most cabin rentals require a deposit in advance and a guaranteed rental of at least two nights. And, they do this for good reason. But, the good owners also know when to bend their own rules ... and those are the people that I continue to do business with. I have a list of two or three of these classy owners that I will always call first. No refund was offered at the Caboose.

These cabin rentals are not cheap. For what they charge, you can rent a nice room or even a small suite at the Doubletree or the Sheraton. Granted, you are paying for privacy and access to nature but the bare minimum should be a comfortable stay and adequate cooking facilities. This place had neither. Do I need to say that the Caboose is off my list of future destinations?

Sheila Races (Walks) For The Cure

Sheila was up at 5:30 this morning getting ready to make the Race for the Cure. This is the second time she has done the race and the first since her breast cancer surgery. Thank God for His providence and for the skill and wisdom of people like Dr. Lynette Smith, Sheila's breast surgeon, and Dr. Charles W. Taylor her oncologist.

It is hard to explain what being the family member of a cancer survivor is like. The experience is one that you sincerely hope that no one else ever has to endure. The agonizing waits on test results, the fear, the bargaining with God and the disease, the hope and the terror.

It has been three years now since Sheila's radical mastectomy. There have been two serious scares both of which turned out to be non-malignant. Sheila is healthy and strong now and I praise God for that every day of my life.

The Senior Prom

Bill & Sheila Visit Their Grandson .... Due In Early December

Sheila and I had a very touching experience this afternoon. For half an hour we got to watch our grandson, Benjamin Robert Schatz, move around inside his mommies tummy.

There is a business here in Tulsa called Stork Vision that will, for a fee, allow family and friends to come in and watch a realtime with full movement three dimensional sonogram of their unborn child, grandchild, etc.

It was incredibly exciting, tender and sobering all at the same time. There he was, a little boy. We saw his little boy parts. We watched him pull his hands over his eyes trying to go back to sleep. We watched him stretch his feet almost to his face and curl up in a ball. And eventually, we saw his little face, puffy cheeks, Kumpe nose and all. I don't really know how to explain my feelings at this moment.

It hasn't been so long ago that we didn't even know what the sex of a child would be until it was born. And we certainly didn't know anything about them as a person. But, for half an hour this afternoon, we watched him move, respond to stimulus and even show emotion.

God shares his sovereignty with us in allowing us to create new life. It is a wonder both physically and spiritually. I am still in awe of what I saw this afternoon.

Maddy and Roger and Sheila and Bill Watch a Sobering Movie

We met Roger and Maddy at the neighborhood IHOP early for the BOGO supper and then went to see "2016" at the Promenade. It is a thoughtful, sobering even frightening movie. Following up on President Obama's own recorded statements and the history of his family, the movie develops a picture of a man who has no experience with American culture as we know it, no loyalty to American values as we know them and a burning generationally bred desire to take America and Americans down a few notches the world community.

It is undisputed that his father was a high ranking and respected advisor to the leftist Kenyan independence movement which among other things bred the bloody Mau Mau uprisings there.

It is undisputed that during the 1960's his mother was a hard core leftist with a penchant for third world revolutionaries for husbands when she wasn't posing for porn.

It is undisputed that his closest mentor was a card carrying communist so dangerous that the FBI kept him on the list of Soviet Agents until the day he died.

It is undisputed that one of his close Chicago political friends was a member of the 1960's radical group the Weathermen who bombed US govt. offices, including the Pentagon, and killed policemen.

It is undisputed that his pastor of many years is the high priest of the anti-American, anti-colonial liberation theology movement.

In short, this movie thoughtfully shows that the man in the Oval Office right now admits that he has an agenda forged by his association with these people and their cause, the destruction of America as we know it. If you want to get a historical view of this man's political influences start with the bloody and infamous Mau Mau movement in Kenya. Then take a look at the US "Weather Underground" movement of the 1960's.

The information presented in this movie is not just campaign propaganda. It is factual. The problem is that the people who should see this movie will not and even if they did they have become so addicted to the politics of partisanship, lies, accusations, labels and branding that they no longer have the intellectual capacity to weigh the evidence before them.

Bill Buys A Tablet

(NOTE, this post was originally in error.  I DID NOT WEAR OUT A BLACKBERRY.  As I was getting ready to put my BB Titanium away for the last time, I decided to try the last ditch efforts and did a SYSTEM RESET which wiped it completely and reset it to original factory settings.  It then rebooted and worked perfectly and has worked perfectly ever since.  I just had to reinstall my apps. )

While shopping for a new smart phone, I installed my Sim Card in the last generation Blackberry and discovered something remarkable. It was a remarkably good business telephone and PDA. No bells and whistles but it worked perfectly. It is built like a tank and does everything you would want a business phone to do. And, since it doesn't have a camera or an extended capacity voice recorder, you don't have to surrender it to the door Gestapo in federal facilities. (Make a note of this conspiracy buffs. You surrender your right to privacy to anything you surrender to their custody and it takes about ten seconds to dump your entire life onto another computer for later analysis.)

This set me to thinking about just keeping the old reliable BB. I then stumbled across this remarkable little Android tablet at Big Lots for $65.00. The little guy is absolutely amazing for the investment. With a wifi connection you can check email and Facebook, read the news, etc. Without the wifi you can still use it as an e-reader for your ebook account, watch movies, play games, listen to music, etc. While it is only a 512mhz processor, it handles video fine. I have watched a couple of movies now and it does a great job with them. Same with YouTube when you have a connection.

I don't think this little guy has been out of my reach since I bought it. I have read Kindle books at the coffee shop, watched a movie while waiting for my pharmacist to straighten out a prescription with my insurance company, checked email too many times, did multiple FB postings, etc. It took it all in stride. It even does voice activated internet searches so you don't have to key in your search terms! The only glaring fault I can find is that it has a front facing camera only which is great for video messaging, skype, etc. but makes it nearly impossible to take a picture of anyone else.

Bottom line, it is not a powerhouse but does a great job as a digital companion.

Bill Cooks A Quick and Elegant Little Dinner

Things just didn't work out today. Sheila had to work on her consulting job for a couple of hours, and then there was an emergency at her full time office that required immediate attention. I was stove up from yesterday's doin's and spent most of the afternoon asleep. Bottom line, when things finally came together it was around five and we needed a quick little dinner. I think it came out pretty well. You might call it a "Wal Mart Gourmet" meal since everything came from there.

The salad is WM's house brand Ceaser straight out of the bag. It's not bad at all. The tea is Lipton's "Brisk" Raspberry. I'm quickly becoming addicted to it.

The little bird couldn't have been simpler. I had bought two Cornish game hens for later in the week. I used them tonight instead. I split the skin from the meat near the breast and worked my finger under there until the skin was completely separated but still attached. I then stuffed in a couple of generous sprigs of rosemary and poured in a couple of tablespoons of olive oil. After patting them dry with a paper towel again, I massaged the outside with a little more olive oil and then salt and peppered them generously. A peeled shallot in the body cavity finished the prep. It took no more than five minutes.

Cooking the little bird was just as easy. I lit off one side the gas grill (no time for a charcoal or wood fire) and positioned the birds off the heat but near enough to it where they would roast and brown but not burn. I moved them around a couple of times to make sure they cooked evenly. They were a golden brown in a little over half an hour.

It was a very tasty little meal that took less than an hour from beginning to end. And, judging from Sheila's picking every morsel of meat from her bird and what I had left on my plate, I would say a good time was had by all.

Bill and Sheila Go To The Farm

It had been two months since we visited the farm and we were definitely overdue for a work day and a visit. On our last visit we pretty well cleaned house except for the large living area in the rear and of course that final room that doesn't count that is full of mom's stuff that we still have to sort through.
The room in question had succumbed to a summers worth of dead wasps, lizard tracks from the critters eating the dead bugs, etc. It is really a nice room with a large picture window looking out to the south. We attacked it around ten and by noon, the only bugs left were those flying around that we couldn't catch with the vacuum. When we finished, we hung a couple of decorator items, spread plastic drop cloths over the furniture and moved on to other pursuits.


We decided to spend a little time fishing. It was the wrong time of the day and my cousin John's cows followed us to the pond and got in the water scaring any fish that might have been hanging around away. But, I got the chance to show Sheila a little bit about how to use her brand new "Lady Shakespeare" pink for breast cancer cure rod and reel. I must say she got into the thing because her sneakers matched her fishing equipment perfectly. The only thing we came close to catching were turtles. And I have to say, while my ponds may no longer have the number of fish they had when I was younger, they do have some spectacular snapping turtles. The old fishing lore said that turtles will eat up all of the fish in your pond. If I find that that is true, I suspect I may have to do some .22 caliber turtle fishing before the weather cools off.
When we tired of fishing, we drove the little red pickup around the fence lines while I checked out likely hunting spots for the fall season. I do need to get the property posted for whatever good that will do. I would really be angry to be down there on the first day of turkey season and find somebody besides my cousin John or his grandson Johnny hunting the place. We did spot a doe and two nearly grown fawns early on in our drive around. They weren't the least afraid of us or our truck and I had to wonder what in world is happening when you loudly stumble on a deer and two fawns and they don't disappear like lightning. In the olden days, unless your were very quiet and still on your stand, the only thing you might see was a fleeting glimpse of a white tail. Mama just stood there and looked at me for several moments, presenting an almost perfect shot picture. (The deer photo is not mine but this is close to what it looked like.)

When we got back to the house, we had a great luxury, a shower. Not a sponge bath and not a mini shower with a handheld rubber appliance meant for washing hair over a sink. A real, long, luxurious shower. Several months back, Sheila ordered a claw foot tub shower conversion kit and we had a local man install it for us. Wow, what a luxury.

It was dinner time by this time and when we got to the intersection of OK 141 and US 64. Sheila was torn between heading toward Sallisaw for Charlie's Chicken Buffet which is always good and always open or taking a chance on the very good but not always open Wagon Wheel Express Barbecue in Muldrow. I let her choose and she opted for Muldrow. It was open, the food was fabulous and we ate too much.

While my catfish and Sheila's pulled pork could not have been improved upon it was the sides that made the meal for me. Two of my sides were pan fried potatoes and pinto beans. I guess some things never change. They tasted exactly like those that we ate at the farmhouse table many, many evenings so long ago. I guess it is a southern thing and probably even a local thing but to an Okie pinto beans with fried potatoes is the ultimate comfort food. We finished the meal off by splitting a serving of their absolutely perfect bread pudding. Not too sweet, not too bready, not too mushy, perfectly cooked and served with tart lemon sauce that just sends it over the top. You will notice that our huge serving is already half eaten. We both took several bites before we remembered to take a picture of it. It was a meal worth talking about.

It seemed like most of Muldrow had been there for dinner or was coming in soon. They had a good, steady crowd. And I might add, the owners and employees are nice folks. Just plain old nice folks. It is absolutely amazing that Muldrow, the little bump on the map off I-40 has two very good restaurants. Broadway Joe's up on US 64 is about as good a diner as you are going to find anyplace in the US.

We had one final chore to do before leaving town. Sheila had picked up some fall flowers for Mom and Dad's graves. When we got there, we noticed that someone had apparently stolen the flowers from Mom's vase but Dad's still looked fine. So, we gave Mom all of the fall flowers and headed back up 1-40. It was a busy day but a good day. Nothing extraordinary but a lot of pleasant little adventures. A good time was had by all.