<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1311137249656177044</id><updated>2011-11-27T18:17:02.518-06:00</updated><title type='text'>On Gray's Pond</title><subtitle type='html'>Come on in, the water's great</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1311137249656177044/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>On Gray's Pond - Walt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08543625317536100176</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/Sc2p3P6zPQI/AAAAAAAAAAM/o993ZC_ERjk/S220/08July2+072.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>21</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1311137249656177044.post-4601731331998256761</id><published>2009-09-27T01:26:00.013-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-27T02:34:24.059-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bees.....  The Sting</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/Sr8OkNjQiRI/AAAAAAAAAIo/SVuC6PfQjTg/s1600-h/P9240027.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/Sr8OkNjQiRI/AAAAAAAAAIo/SVuC6PfQjTg/s400/P9240027.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386039694634027282" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all started with the Bees.   A couple of weeks ago, Carolyn was out on the deck and she was attacked by bees.   She got stung twice.   I went and got the wasp/hornet spray and began attacking the area the bees came from.   The following week, Carolyn was getting some kitchen stuff out from under one of our counters, and again, the bees went on the offensive and she got stung twice again.   I then got out the spray and sprayed the heck out of the area the bees came from.   Following the advice of some friends, I decided to bring in a professional bee man.   Boots was his name.   Boots was a character.   He had to be in his 70's and yet had a mind as sharp as a tack.   He did some poking around.   He determined that the bees had absconded (left).  I knew that the siding on our house was a haven for wasps, so I decided that a little renovation was in order.   Since I was going to be working on the siding of our home, I decided that the best course of action was to close some of the gaps and put in new windows.  I borrowed a scaffolding from Brian Hebert at Mena Steel Buildings Incorporated.  It took us a bit to figure out the setup.  The only real hitch with the front of the house is the fact that the ground isn't level and the scaffolding leaned a bit.   I think this made Joe nervous when both of us were on the top at the same time.   In the end we ended up working a high/low with one up and the other down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I contacted Joe and he found some time in his schedule to come down and help me out.   Our first scheduled time didn't quite work out, so we rescheduled to a time that was more convenient for him to come down.   So...  For the last three days, Joe and I have been tackling the house.  My house is a cozy little two-story house with cedar siding.   Little did we know what we had in store for us.  I borrowed a scaffolding from Brian Hebert at Mena Steel Buildings Incorporated.  It took us a bit to figure out the setup.  The only real hitch with the front of the house is the fact that the ground isn't level and the scaffolding leaned a bit.   I think this made Joe nervous when both of us were on the top at the same time.   In the end we ended up working a high/low with one up and the other down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/Sr8PN_KA0gI/AAAAAAAAAIw/gR2R1yo0ArI/s1600-h/P9240038.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/Sr8PN_KA0gI/AAAAAAAAAIw/gR2R1yo0ArI/s320/P9240038.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386040412324549122" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;On the first day, we pulled the siding around the 4 windows at the front of the house.  Behind a couple of spots in the siding, the wasps let themselves be known.  Joe did a good bit of the attacking, using up one can of wasp spray.   After a short break, I took up the job of wasp assassin.   The siding ended up taking a good part of the morning.   Then we replaced the four windows on that side.  What should have been a simple repair and replace, took us the whole day.  I was dog-tired by the end of the day.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the morning of day two, we reattached the siding around the windows and then &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/Sr8QI6myI_I/AAAAAAAAAI4/MXSgfOtlv5w/s1600-h/P9240044.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/Sr8QI6myI_I/AAAAAAAAAI4/MXSgfOtlv5w/s200/P9240044.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386041424715326450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; moved to the side of the house just after lunch.  It took us the remainder of the day just to replace the one window on the side and then put the siding back up around it.  Because the windows in the bedrooms are a little different than those on the front of the house, I erred in my calculation of time we would need, plus I had to re-adjust my measurements.  Of course the re-adjustment was discovered after I had already prepared the window trim based on the way the front windows fit.   After, finally getting the window in place, we re-attached the siding.   By this time, we were pretty tired and had to get ready to go to the Fish Net for dinner (Great food, as always).  Then we decided to completely call it a day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/Sr8RDL_4n0I/AAAAAAAAAJA/BsJhG_yt7Hg/s1600-h/P9240047.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/Sr8RDL_4n0I/AAAAAAAAAJA/BsJhG_yt7Hg/s200/P9240047.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386042425816424258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because we only had one more day, we knew that we had to replace 5 windows and siding in one day on the back side of the house.   We ended up getting a bit of a late start, but because we had already figured out the placement of windows, we were able to get on a bit of a roll.  We had a return of the wasp wars on the back of the house.   Joe even took a sting by one.  By mid-afternoon we had replaced 4 windows and put the trim back on.  After a short lunch break, we hit the final window.   This ended up taking us quite a bit longer that I would have liked due to difficulty with the siding, but by early evening, we had it kicked out.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/Sr8VCMbj3NI/AAAAAAAAAJg/9r_U6RcxWNw/s1600-h/P9260065.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/Sr8VCMbj3NI/AAAAAAAAAJg/9r_U6RcxWNw/s320/P9260065.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386046806799146194" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then came the fun of taking the scaffolding apart so that I could return it on Monday morning.  We gathered up the tools and called it a night.  By this time it was after 7 pm.  The whole job was a great learning experience for both of us.  We both decided that when they put the siding on the house, they made a whole lot of mistakes, and some of them are impossible to fix in a short period of time.    Who knows.   I'm sure that I'll eventually fix all of the siding.   My next task will be to power wash the entire house and seal the fresh cedar with a stain/sealer.  But that will have to be another entry entirely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to thank Jamie and Joe for their awesome contribution of time, sweat, and fun while doing this job.   Also, if you ever need a metal roof or just about any other construction need, I would recommend MSBI for the job.   Thanks Brian for the loan of the scaffolding.   Would couldn't have done the job without it.  In the end, it is so cool to be able to actually look out of the windows.  The old windows weren't properly sealed and you couldn't see anything out of most of them.   The whole job was a lot of fun, but a ton of work.  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/Sr8SdN5oRMI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/6flMuV8sFG4/s1600-h/P9260068.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/Sr8SdN5oRMI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/6flMuV8sFG4/s400/P9260068.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386043972515284162" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The moral of this whole story is, if you are going to tackle a big job.   Allow three to four times your estimated labor time.   I know that this would have made me reconsider doing all ten windows at once.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Don't dive in the shallow end&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1311137249656177044-4601731331998256761?l=ongrayspond.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/feeds/4601731331998256761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/2009/09/bees-sting.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1311137249656177044/posts/default/4601731331998256761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1311137249656177044/posts/default/4601731331998256761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/2009/09/bees-sting.html' title='Bees.....  The Sting'/><author><name>On Gray's Pond - Walt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08543625317536100176</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/Sc2p3P6zPQI/AAAAAAAAAAM/o993ZC_ERjk/S220/08July2+072.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/Sr8OkNjQiRI/AAAAAAAAAIo/SVuC6PfQjTg/s72-c/P9240027.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1311137249656177044.post-9158613063585581366</id><published>2009-09-17T18:32:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-17T18:40:27.746-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What's for Dinner????????</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SrLI3uMChvI/AAAAAAAAAIg/W7uFfhtW1XQ/s1600-h/cooking+sancocho-Diego.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 353px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SrLI3uMChvI/AAAAAAAAAIg/W7uFfhtW1XQ/s400/cooking+sancocho-Diego.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382585364278052594" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've picked up a few of the cooking chores around here this week.   I've cooked a pot roast, spaghetti, and today I'm cooking beans and ham.   What I need is some great easy non-time consuming meals that I can cook up so that Carolyn doesn't come home having to do everything.   So?   What's cooking?????&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Don't dive in the shallow end&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1311137249656177044-9158613063585581366?l=ongrayspond.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/feeds/9158613063585581366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/2009/09/whats-for-dinner.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1311137249656177044/posts/default/9158613063585581366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1311137249656177044/posts/default/9158613063585581366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/2009/09/whats-for-dinner.html' title='What&apos;s for Dinner????????'/><author><name>On Gray's Pond - Walt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08543625317536100176</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/Sc2p3P6zPQI/AAAAAAAAAAM/o993ZC_ERjk/S220/08July2+072.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SrLI3uMChvI/AAAAAAAAAIg/W7uFfhtW1XQ/s72-c/cooking+sancocho-Diego.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1311137249656177044.post-550260537680452083</id><published>2009-09-14T01:57:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-14T02:33:10.663-05:00</updated><title type='text'>"WARNING" "Quotes"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/Sq3u9a6Gh4I/AAAAAAAAAII/lemEwCI2jS0/s1600-h/friendship_quote_graphic_c4.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 329px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/Sq3u9a6Gh4I/AAAAAAAAAII/lemEwCI2jS0/s400/friendship_quote_graphic_c4.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381219868740061058" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What people say sometimes is worth remembering.   Here are a few quotes - some may not be worth remembering, but they are good for a laugh:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  Life is just a phase you're going through...you'll get over it. ---- Anonymous&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  An autobiography is the story of how a man thinks he lived.  ---- Herbert Samuel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  Let us live so that when we come to die even the undertaker will be sorry. ---- Mark Twain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.Life is a sexually transmitted disease and the mortality rate is one hundred percent. ---- R. D. Laing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  Friendship is like peeing on yourself: everyone can see it, but only you get the warm feeling that it brings. ---- Anonymous&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.  Don't have sex man. It leads to kissing and pretty soon you have to start talking to them. ---- Steve Martin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.  I admit, I have a tremendous sex drive. My boyfriend lives forty miles away. ---- Phyllis Diller&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.  Women will never be as successful as men because they have no wives to advise them. ---- Dick Van Dyke&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9.  You don't know a women till you've met her in court. ---- Norman Mailer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. I love men, even though they're lying, cheating scumbags. ---- Gwyneth Paltrow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/Sq3v926V0sI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/BNZ_Py80IM8/s1600-h/puppy-dog-eyes-quote.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 357px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/Sq3v926V0sI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/BNZ_Py80IM8/s400/puppy-dog-eyes-quote.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381220975768883906" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. All men hear is blah, blah, blah, blah, SEX, blah, blah, blah, FOOD, blah, blah, blah, BEER. ---- Dennis Leary&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. My father taught me to work; he did not teach me to love it. ---- Abraham Lincoln&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. When doctors and undertakers meet, they wink at each other. ---- W.C. Fields&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. When life is a beach, play in the sand. ---- Me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. Human beings are the only creatures on earth that allow their children to come back home. ---- Bill Cosby&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. Beer is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy. ---- Benjamin Franklin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. If women dressed for men, the stores wouldn't sell much -- just an occasional sun visor. ---- Groucho Marx&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. Too bad that all the people who know how to run the country are busy driving taxicabs and cutting hair. ---- George Burns&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. A word to the wise ain't necessary - it's the stupid ones that need the advice. ---- Bill Cosby &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. All you need is love. But a little chocolate now and then doesn't hurt. ---- Charles M. Schulz &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. Any girl can be glamorous. All you have to do is stand still and look stupid. ---- Hedy Lamarr&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/Sq3w58gpwRI/AAAAAAAAAIY/Up6vVlGXBUY/s1600-h/Barbie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 302px; height: 308px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/Sq3w58gpwRI/AAAAAAAAAIY/Up6vVlGXBUY/s320/Barbie.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381222008063901970" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Don't dive in the shallow end&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1311137249656177044-550260537680452083?l=ongrayspond.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/feeds/550260537680452083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/2009/09/warning-quotes.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1311137249656177044/posts/default/550260537680452083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1311137249656177044/posts/default/550260537680452083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/2009/09/warning-quotes.html' title='&quot;WARNING&quot; &quot;Quotes&quot;'/><author><name>On Gray's Pond - Walt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08543625317536100176</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/Sc2p3P6zPQI/AAAAAAAAAAM/o993ZC_ERjk/S220/08July2+072.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/Sq3u9a6Gh4I/AAAAAAAAAII/lemEwCI2jS0/s72-c/friendship_quote_graphic_c4.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1311137249656177044.post-6049061589578978636</id><published>2009-09-09T23:34:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-10T00:39:39.368-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Best Friends - Two Wild and Crazy Guys....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SqiN53Y8N7I/AAAAAAAAAHY/jBNFfVTnuF4/s1600-h/IMG_0068.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 326px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SqiN53Y8N7I/AAAAAAAAAHY/jBNFfVTnuF4/s400/IMG_0068.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379705780154677170" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the difficulties of a youngster in a military family is the fact that every couple of years you end up moving - usually across the country.  For some, the moves are across the oceans.  Now in some respects, this is great.   I got to see this country from one ocean to the next.   As a kid I caught all the national parks and most of the major cities.   I've been to New York, DC, Chicago, Dallas...   Heck just about everywhere.   The difficulty with it is that just when you develop great friendships, it is time to pack up and move again.   I was torn every time we moved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In 1973 (age 12), My Father retired from the Corps and the family moved to Mena, Arkansas.  The folks bought a nursery and a home and a new and exciting chapter began for me.  Mena isn't exactly the big city, but it was an awesome place to grow up.  I joined the swim team and began making friends.   Some of those friendships are still running today.   There was Clay, Kevin, Steve, Liz, Pud, Steve..... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My time in Mena started pretty rough, the adjustment to a settled community was a bit tenuous.  The people in the community were great, but I was used to the moving, with friends coming and going.   I had troubles with getting to close to people.   Maybe it was trust issues, but whatever it was, I had never had a "BEST" friend.  I had friends, but none that I would classify as best.   In the 9th grade I was in band and playing the trombone.  One of my fellow classmates and band members was Vernon.   Over the year, Vernon and I began to hang out more and more.   He became the part of me that I had never had before.  The two of us were thick, peas in a pod, two of a kind.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vernon was named after his father, hence he had a Jr. at the end of his name (as did I).  We were the two Juniors.   Kind of like the 3 amigos, 3 stooges, and the 3 musketeers....  Vernon's parents were "Mom and Dad" to me, and mine were the same to him.   We did pretty much everything together.   If one of us had a date, we didn't go out unless the other had a date as well.   We did a lot of double-dating back then.  We were fortunate to have each other.   Looking back at the time I had with Vernon - - I WOULDN'T CHANGE A THING.....&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SqiPn6cHj-I/AAAAAAAAAHw/ArA67ocsxII/s1600-h/Vernon+and+Paula+164.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SqiPn6cHj-I/AAAAAAAAAHw/ArA67ocsxII/s400/Vernon+and+Paula+164.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379707670758920162" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We graduated in 1979 and joined the Marine Corps on the buddy-plan.  After boot camp we were both guaranteed to be trained in Avionics (Aviation Electronics).  Somehow, my orders were changed in boot camp and I was assigned to the Legal Field.   I was trained as a Court Reporter.   The Marine Corps gave me the option of collecting my Avionics bonus and staying in the legal field, or getting discharged.   Discharge wasn't an option - so I became a Court Reporter.   My training was at Camp Pendleton, California.   Vernon's Avionics training was at Millington, TN (near Memphis).   We talked from time to time.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In December of 1979, I got married to Carolyn.   Vernon was my only choice for best man.  Together we stood tall at the alter while Carolyn walked the aisle and we said our vows.   It was a moment that I wanted to share with Vernon.   Several years later, Vernon married Paula, and I was the best man at his wedding.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SqiPEcQe1EI/AAAAAAAAAHo/sBdo--n0BbY/s1600-h/Vernon+and+Paula+113.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 315px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SqiPEcQe1EI/AAAAAAAAAHo/sBdo--n0BbY/s400/Vernon+and+Paula+113.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379707061361628226" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We had a lot in common, but time and distance began to fade our friendship.   From time to time we would see each other and it would be just like old times.  Best Friends Forever.   Eventually, I got out of the corps and carried on with civilian life.   Years later, Vernon got out and carried on with his life with his family.   Once in a blue moon we would see each other and it was as if time stood still.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently, I joined Facebook.   It seemed neat to be able to talk with old friends and acquaintances.   I've talked with people I hadn't seen in over 30 years.   Some of my friends now weren't exactly friends years back, but people grow up as they grow old and the things we do have in common make becoming Facebook Friends now well worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SqiQQHPpjCI/AAAAAAAAAH4/Bb45z2iAskc/s1600-h/Vernon+and+Paula+157.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SqiQQHPpjCI/AAAAAAAAAH4/Bb45z2iAskc/s400/Vernon+and+Paula+157.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379708361391049762" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About two months ago, I connected with Vernon and Paula on Facebook.   Through this I got his number and we talked on the phone.   We caught each other up to pace on the years in our lives that we had missed with each other.   Once again, I know that my best friend (other than Carolyn) will always be with me, even if he isn't here.   Miles can come between us, and the clocks and calendars will tick and tear away, but Vernon and I will ALWAYS be best friends.  After all, "We're two Wild and Crazy Guys".......  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SqiQa5USC7I/AAAAAAAAAIA/3g7C_E400Vc/s1600-h/Wild+and+Crazy+guys.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SqiQa5USC7I/AAAAAAAAAIA/3g7C_E400Vc/s400/Wild+and+Crazy+guys.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379708546630945714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Don't dive in the shallow end&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1311137249656177044-6049061589578978636?l=ongrayspond.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/feeds/6049061589578978636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/2009/09/best-friends.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1311137249656177044/posts/default/6049061589578978636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1311137249656177044/posts/default/6049061589578978636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/2009/09/best-friends.html' title='Best Friends - Two Wild and Crazy Guys....'/><author><name>On Gray's Pond - Walt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08543625317536100176</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/Sc2p3P6zPQI/AAAAAAAAAAM/o993ZC_ERjk/S220/08July2+072.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SqiN53Y8N7I/AAAAAAAAAHY/jBNFfVTnuF4/s72-c/IMG_0068.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1311137249656177044.post-6116112083550233303</id><published>2009-09-08T22:25:00.012-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-08T23:01:49.093-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wierd facts #1</title><content type='html'>I love funny and weird facts.   So tonight, for fun, I decided to download just a few from one site which I linked to this post&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ENJOY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/Sqcldc1_1-I/AAAAAAAAAGw/H40SsIslQd4/s1600-h/superman.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 93px; height: 129px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/Sqcldc1_1-I/AAAAAAAAAGw/H40SsIslQd4/s320/superman.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379309467806455778" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In every episode of Seinfeld there is a Superman somewhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eskimos use refrigerators to keep food FROM freezing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SqclskNO8ZI/AAAAAAAAAG4/57GuDEpiMYw/s1600-h/JimmyC.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 88px; height: 128px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SqclskNO8ZI/AAAAAAAAAG4/57GuDEpiMYw/s320/JimmyC.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379309727481000338" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Did you know that Jimmy Carter was the first U.S. president to have been born in a hospital?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the 1940s, the FCC assigned television's Channel 1 to mobile Services (two-way radios in  taxicabs,  for instance) but did not Pre-number the other channel assignments. That is why your TV set has channels 2 and up, but no channel 1.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/Sqcl60WyznI/AAAAAAAAAHA/_ibe2MAbnXA/s1600-h/fox.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 173px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/Sqcl60WyznI/AAAAAAAAAHA/_ibe2MAbnXA/s400/fox.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379309972334235250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sentence "The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog." Uses every letter in the alphabet.     (developed by Western Union to test telex/twx communications)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The San Francisco Cable cars are the only mobile National Monuments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Average life span of a major &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SqcmXbZqL8I/AAAAAAAAAHI/DmpqgRT36GI/s1600-h/baseball-player-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 180px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SqcmXbZqL8I/AAAAAAAAAHI/DmpqgRT36GI/s320/baseball-player-1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379310463851573186" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;league baseball: 7 pitches.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only 15 letter word that can be spelled without repeating a letter  is uncopyrightable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SqcmjEhVJBI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/14cWiKHAZJI/s1600-h/01_08_2---Duck_web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SqcmjEhVJBI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/14cWiKHAZJI/s320/01_08_2---Duck_web.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379310663868163090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A duck's quack doesn't echo, and no one knows why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hang On Sloopy is the official rock song of Ohio.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Don't dive in the shallow end&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1311137249656177044-6116112083550233303?l=ongrayspond.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.zipadeeday.com/' title='Wierd facts #1'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/feeds/6116112083550233303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/2009/09/wierd-facts-1.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1311137249656177044/posts/default/6116112083550233303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1311137249656177044/posts/default/6116112083550233303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/2009/09/wierd-facts-1.html' title='Wierd facts #1'/><author><name>On Gray's Pond - Walt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08543625317536100176</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/Sc2p3P6zPQI/AAAAAAAAAAM/o993ZC_ERjk/S220/08July2+072.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/Sqcldc1_1-I/AAAAAAAAAGw/H40SsIslQd4/s72-c/superman.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1311137249656177044.post-816099495639742073</id><published>2009-09-08T13:08:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-08T13:33:33.489-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Silly September Holidays.</title><content type='html'>I decided that it has been too long since I posted.   I love the fact that Jamie has some of the most off the wall stuff on her blog.   I love silliness, so I decided to throw some of that in here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the most widely recognized holidays for the month of September is obviously Labor Day.  We all look forward to the long weekend and for most, the day signals the end of the summer and its many wonderful activities.   This year Labor Day occurred on the 7th of September.   All the lakes were packed as well as many other activities (theme parks, ball games...   You get the picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;September has a lot of other holidays.   These are all real holidays, but unfortunately we don't get days off or extra pay because of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                          Month of September holidays:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     Attention Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder Month &lt;br /&gt;        (I wonder how many others besides myself could celebrate this one);&lt;br /&gt;     Apple Month;&lt;br /&gt;     Childrens Good Manners Month&lt;br /&gt;         (I think a lot of kids should pay attention to this month);&lt;br /&gt;     Mold Awareness Month;&lt;br /&gt;     National Chicken Month;&lt;br /&gt;     Self-Improvement Month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                            September Holiday Weeks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     National Waffle Week  6th through the 12th;&lt;br /&gt;     Line Dance Week  14th through the 19th;-19;&lt;br /&gt;     Banned Books Week  26th - 10/3&lt;br /&gt;         ( http://www.ala.org/ala/issuesadvocacy/banned/bannedbooksweek/index.cfm );&lt;br /&gt;     American Massage Therapy Week  23rd through the 26th.\&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                              September Holidays&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     Chicken Boys Day - 1st;&lt;br /&gt;     Oatmeal Days - 4th and 5th;&lt;br /&gt;     Be Late For Something Day - 5th;&lt;br /&gt;     Swap Ideas Day - 10th;&lt;br /&gt;     Mushroom Days - 12th and 13th;&lt;br /&gt;     Talk Like a Pirate Day - 19th  ( talklikeapirate.com );&lt;br /&gt;     Beer Days - 24th, 25th and 26th;&lt;br /&gt;     Fish Amnesty Day 26th; and&lt;br /&gt;     Shamu the Whale Day is also the 26th.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now never let it be said that there is nothing to celebrate in the Month of September.   I think my favorites are Talk Like a Pirate Day, Chicken Boys Day, Line Dance Week, and Children's Good Manners Month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy your month&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Don't dive in the shallow end&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1311137249656177044-816099495639742073?l=ongrayspond.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/feeds/816099495639742073/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/2009/09/silly-september-holidays.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1311137249656177044/posts/default/816099495639742073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1311137249656177044/posts/default/816099495639742073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/2009/09/silly-september-holidays.html' title='Silly September Holidays.'/><author><name>On Gray's Pond - Walt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08543625317536100176</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/Sc2p3P6zPQI/AAAAAAAAAAM/o993ZC_ERjk/S220/08July2+072.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1311137249656177044.post-1119311926652226506</id><published>2009-06-20T00:11:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-20T00:56:48.536-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thinking of Fish</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/Sjx58RAwZmI/AAAAAAAAAGo/r2IPrT33HGI/s1600-h/Summer08+176.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/Sjx58RAwZmI/AAAAAAAAAGo/r2IPrT33HGI/s400/Summer08+176.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349284533674993250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JKDtUzRIG6I"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the month of June slowly winds its way down, I become more and more anxious over the trip to Florida in just two weeks.   It is going to be an exciting time.  It is going to be a very busy time.  In case you couldn't tell, it seems that, other than family, the thing I love to do most is either work on fish ponds or actually be fishing.   Florida provides lots of opportunity for the fishing.   Beach fishing (where you get to try to catch one from the sand and not get blinded by the nearby bikinis), Pier Fishing (where you can catch anything from crabs to sharks - and not that kind of crabs Jason), and deep sea fishing.   I talked to Amanda and Scott yesterday and they were telling me about their recent exploits off the coast.   Scott has become quite the shark wrangler.   My goal isn't to catch anything specific, but rather to just catch something that puts up a great fight and that is also BIG.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We will leave home for Pensacola Beach on Friday, July 3rd.   We are going to drive straight through.   That means that Walt will be driving while everyone else in the car watches a movie or sleeps.  Hopefully we will arrive at our destination a while before sunrise so that I will have the opportunity to sit on the beach and watch the sun rise.   Because everyone else in the car will have slept well, they will all take off and do something fun, and I will take the opportunity to catch up on a few zzzzzzzzzz's.  Of course we all know what happens on the evening of the 4th.   I don't know in which direction we will be looking, but I do know that we will be watching the fireworks pop somewhere.   After that the FUN BEGINS.  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/Sjx4TCzY2gI/AAAAAAAAAGg/GDyvhi-WFC0/s1600-h/Summer08+124.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/Sjx4TCzY2gI/AAAAAAAAAGg/GDyvhi-WFC0/s320/Summer08+124.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349282725974563330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I don't know if I will be fishing that night or if I am going to wait until the morning, but to me, the fishing is what it is all about.   I plan to hop on the kayak - - go out just past the breakers - - cast out my line - - paddle back in to shore - - and wait for the big one to hit the beach.  So that means that most of Sunday will be devoted to fishing.   On Monday, I plan to devote most of my day to .....  Fishing.... and spending some time with the family at the wedding rehearsal and rehearsal dinner.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday is a different story.   That is Jamie's big day.  I will be at Jamie's disposal the entire day.   I know that I will be setting up huts, lights, tables , chairs...........   The highlight of the day will be when I pass the hand of my baby girl off to a young man who has won the hearts of all of us.   I'm told that is when the real partying will begin.   I'm still not certain how much of it I will be doing, but I do plan to have a great time.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday, I'll be back to my usual vacation schedule, hopefully joining Amanda on the boat for a day out on the big blue.   If not Wednesday, then on Thursday.   I plan to continue this fishing pattern until they drag me off the beach and force me to come back home.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/Sjx3PKpuW2I/AAAAAAAAAGY/3OHeP7IhhFU/s1600-h/08July2+072.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/Sjx3PKpuW2I/AAAAAAAAAGY/3OHeP7IhhFU/s400/08July2+072.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349281559850408802" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, when I get back home I will need a vacation to get over my vacation.   I think I'll.........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/Sjx1uIuWWKI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/uMrQ7JLStzA/s1600-h/catfish+005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/Sjx1uIuWWKI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/uMrQ7JLStzA/s400/catfish+005.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349279892885624994" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go Fishing.....&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Don't dive in the shallow end&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1311137249656177044-1119311926652226506?l=ongrayspond.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JKDtUzRIG6I' title='Thinking of Fish'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/feeds/1119311926652226506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/2009/06/thinking-of-fish.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1311137249656177044/posts/default/1119311926652226506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1311137249656177044/posts/default/1119311926652226506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/2009/06/thinking-of-fish.html' title='Thinking of Fish'/><author><name>On Gray's Pond - Walt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08543625317536100176</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/Sc2p3P6zPQI/AAAAAAAAAAM/o993ZC_ERjk/S220/08July2+072.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/Sjx58RAwZmI/AAAAAAAAAGo/r2IPrT33HGI/s72-c/Summer08+176.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1311137249656177044.post-5498231877353415536</id><published>2009-06-18T20:07:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-18T20:34:19.297-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Shingo and Abby</title><content type='html'>It seems that too often we pick up the paper or turn on the TV to discover another murder-suicide.   I always just nod my head and think how tragic it must be.   Sadly, yesterday a 35-year old woman in Sherwood took her own life after ending the life of her 6-year old daughter.   My memories of Shingo are of a beautiful young woman who had a zest for life.   She was loved by all who knew her and just a lot of fun to be around.   I hadn't seen her in 14 years and never got to meet her daughter.    When I signed up for Facebook I didn't add her to my account because we weren't all that close.   I have good memories of her, but I doubt she would have remembered "Old Fossil". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the closest that an incident like this has ever been to me and it is hitting me a little hard.   I find it so hard to understand why she took the life of her daughter, let alone her own life.    That being said, I UNDERSTAND all too well how the mind can take over.   Common Sense, reality and life as it is viewed by most is completely lost.    I've been close - - too close.   I can look back at those times right now and I know that at the time - nothing mattered.   I didn't think about those around me.   I didn't think about consequences for me or my family.   I didn't think about friends or my children.   I just wanted my mind to stop - to shut the hell up.   NOTHING MATTERED.   I've heard people condemn the sole of a suicide victim to hell.   I don't think anyone should have the right to condemn the sole of another being in the afterlife.    I've heard people talk about it being an act of cowardice.   It may be, but in my opinion, it is more an act of desperation.    When things just seem to spin out of control and nothing seems to go right - when your mind just haunts every waking moment you have - when you want off that never-ending ride.......  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that there have been times when I have been down in those depths and others have told me to think of my children and what this would do to them.   Suicide devastates all who come into contact with it.  In my case, the thought of what it might do to my family is one of the few thoughts that helped pull me back out of those dark times.   Sadly, those very thoughts may have been why Dear Shingo took little Abby with her.   Both will be missed by all who knew them.   I do not hate Shingo for what she has done, but on the contrary I now feel bad that I didn't reach out when I could have.   Maybe this is a lesson that many of us learn the hard way.   Don't devalue yourself when it comes to your impact on those around you.   You may be the one who can save the next Shingo and Abby.     They will surely be missed by me......&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Don't dive in the shallow end&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1311137249656177044-5498231877353415536?l=ongrayspond.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/feeds/5498231877353415536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/2009/06/shingo-and-abby.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1311137249656177044/posts/default/5498231877353415536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1311137249656177044/posts/default/5498231877353415536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/2009/06/shingo-and-abby.html' title='Shingo and Abby'/><author><name>fossil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11911272269503053740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1311137249656177044.post-1037342350127675878</id><published>2009-05-02T00:08:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-02T00:42:36.893-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Friday Night Out - Borrellos</title><content type='html'>BORRELLO'S - Vicksburg, Mississippi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SfvYkOhRzWI/AAAAAAAAAGI/S9boHD-TK34/s1600-h/Borrello%27s.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 197px; height: 99px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SfvYkOhRzWI/AAAAAAAAAGI/S9boHD-TK34/s320/Borrello%27s.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331092700807679330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Typically, Carolyn and I head to a restaurant after she gets off work on Fridays.  Soooo, my Friday night section is now reserved for visits to eateries that impress me.  The restaurant of this week is an Italian place in Vicksburg, Mississippi by the name of Borrello's.  The restaurant is located in the historic downtown section on Washington Street.  The streets in this section of town are paved with bricks.  There are wide sidewalks and shops up and down the street (kind of like some of the shops in Eureka Springs).   It is a beautiful old area that has been well preserved well by the building owners and the City of Vicksburg.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SfvWSy761II/AAAAAAAAAFw/0sesIJHA8DU/s1600-h/May+1+008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SfvWSy761II/AAAAAAAAAFw/0sesIJHA8DU/s400/May+1+008.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331090202322195586" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Borrello's has two separate dining areas, a bar, and a lounge upstairs.  Although the inside doesn't particularly remind you of being in Italy, the food and service do.  We ate in the main dining area.  Being the predictable person that I am, I had the Spaghetti and Meatballs.  Carolyn had the Chicken Parmesan, and Kori ate Shrimp and Scallops on Pasta with a buttery garlic sauce and mushrooms.  The food was out of this world.   The scallops and shrimp that Kori was served were the biggest I had ever seen and tasted awesome.  I tried a little of Carolyn's chicken parmesan, but I'm not much of one for any parmesan items.  Our waiter was very efficient and friendly and was helpful in answering questions about the history of the restaurant and the building it was located in.   The building was once a large home/boarding house and was built not long after the Civil War.   It was later turned into a Printers Office with the presses located in the upstairs section.  The inside walls of the building were decorated in a lot of civil war memorabelia (but then most buildings in this area are).  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SfvWrEoRHUI/AAAAAAAAAF4/VUSZOUC7NNg/s1600-h/May+1+003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SfvWrEoRHUI/AAAAAAAAAF4/VUSZOUC7NNg/s320/May+1+003.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331090619388468546" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other side of the building is the bar with the stairs leading up to the lounge and the outside eating area.  The only problem that I had with this area was the Mississippi State and LSU items around the room (I can't figure out why nothing from Arkansas).   Of course being the good Hog fan that I am, I pointed this out to our waiter with a laugh.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SfvXIwvHwXI/AAAAAAAAAGA/kKkr72rB9_c/s1600-h/May+1+004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SfvXIwvHwXI/AAAAAAAAAGA/kKkr72rB9_c/s320/May+1+004.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331091129444581746" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As with any area you might go to, there are good and bad places to eat.   If you ever get to the Vicksburg area, you might want to give this one a try - - Good stuff.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Don't dive in the shallow end&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1311137249656177044-1037342350127675878?l=ongrayspond.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/feeds/1037342350127675878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/2009/05/friday-night-out-borrellos.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1311137249656177044/posts/default/1037342350127675878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1311137249656177044/posts/default/1037342350127675878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/2009/05/friday-night-out-borrellos.html' title='Friday Night Out - Borrellos'/><author><name>On Gray's Pond - Walt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08543625317536100176</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/Sc2p3P6zPQI/AAAAAAAAAAM/o993ZC_ERjk/S220/08July2+072.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SfvYkOhRzWI/AAAAAAAAAGI/S9boHD-TK34/s72-c/Borrello%27s.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1311137249656177044.post-364297713731692674</id><published>2009-04-25T12:12:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-02T00:07:12.726-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Vicksburg</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SfvSFOLg5_I/AAAAAAAAAFQ/yfenmdA2vk0/s1600-h/May+1+040.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SfvSFOLg5_I/AAAAAAAAAFQ/yfenmdA2vk0/s400/May+1+040.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331085571070683122" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Thursday evening, Carolyn, Kori, Norah and I traveled to Vicksburg, Mississippi.   We came to shoot a rehearsal dinner on Friday and a wedding on Saturday.   On Friday, For fun we decided that we would take in the Vicksburg Civil &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SfvSjCImh0I/AAAAAAAAAFY/q4-TtN-2_Qg/s1600-h/May+1+025.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SfvSjCImh0I/AAAAAAAAAFY/q4-TtN-2_Qg/s320/May+1+025.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331086083233318722" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;War National Park.   I couldn't believe how big the park was.   We could have spent several days just looking around at the monuments and plaques.  It was impressive and sad at the same time.   Just driving around and reading I could picture the battles taking place and the lives that were lost.   It is amazing at all the ground that was moved by the soldiers on both sides of the conflict for trenches.  Friday evening Kori and I headed to shoot the rehearsal dinner and then went on to spend a couple of dollars at one of the casinos in town.   I didn't do well, but I didn't spend much either.   I really hate gambling, but it was fun spending the time with Kori.   By the time we got back to the room and went to bed, it was really really late.   Our wedding contract on Saturday started at 1.   I slept till the last possible moment and then got up and did a quick preparation for the wedding.   It was really neat to be able to shoot in a different location.   We had a great bride and groom, and the families were very nice.   The church was nothing special, but the reception was held at one of the old Mansions in town and it was really interesting.  After the wedding we headed back to the hotel and Carolyn got her turn to go to the casino with Kori.   She did a lot better than I did (thanks to Kori tucking her winnings away and not letting her spend them back).   I stayed at the hotel and babysat Norah.   What a little angel she was.   On Sunday we got up and checked out of the hotel.   Then we went to the old Vicksburg court house where Kori &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SfvTtA11mvI/AAAAAAAAAFg/g_q2jZ0sr1I/s1600-h/May+1+037.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SfvTtA11mvI/AAAAAAAAAFg/g_q2jZ0sr1I/s320/May+1+037.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331087354196499186" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;shot a bridal portrait session with the bride and groom from last nights wedding.   She really got some awesome shots.  the will be hosted on the Hudsons blog in a few days.   After the portrait session, we drove around Vicksburg taking in some great photo opportunities.  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SfvUzrGvslI/AAAAAAAAAFo/_53M1BWSqlo/s1600-h/May+1+021.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SfvUzrGvslI/AAAAAAAAAFo/_53M1BWSqlo/s400/May+1+021.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331088568132547154" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; If anyone wants some great photos, you need to get Kori and/or Jason to shoot some pics of you in that area.   After an afternoon of sightseeing we got on our way home.   The drive home seemed to take forever, but the trip was worth it in the end.   I'll post some of the pics I took later...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Don't dive in the shallow end&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1311137249656177044-364297713731692674?l=ongrayspond.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/feeds/364297713731692674/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/2009/04/vicksburg.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1311137249656177044/posts/default/364297713731692674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1311137249656177044/posts/default/364297713731692674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/2009/04/vicksburg.html' title='Vicksburg'/><author><name>On Gray's Pond - Walt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08543625317536100176</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/Sc2p3P6zPQI/AAAAAAAAAAM/o993ZC_ERjk/S220/08July2+072.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SfvSFOLg5_I/AAAAAAAAAFQ/yfenmdA2vk0/s72-c/May+1+040.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1311137249656177044.post-2730246211208615690</id><published>2009-04-22T23:52:00.010-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-23T03:14:57.264-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Home - - Mena, Arkansas</title><content type='html'>Mena, Arkansas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SfAiIKIFajI/AAAAAAAAAEw/N5_Tm3eexHM/s1600-h/Tornado2+09+033.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SfAiIKIFajI/AAAAAAAAAEw/N5_Tm3eexHM/s320/Tornado2+09+033.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327795882731858482" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With so much talk lately about all the damage and destruction in my town, I wanted to look at the community as I like to look at it in my mind.   So - here goes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SfAiqF2K5iI/AAAAAAAAAFA/0wdqCnJ9uRI/s1600-h/TrainDepot.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 197px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SfAiqF2K5iI/AAAAAAAAAFA/0wdqCnJ9uRI/s400/TrainDepot.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327796465698530850" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided that I would do a little research on the area where I live.   Little to say, I found out that my property was originally a part of Dallas, Arkansas.    Dallas was the original county seat of Polk County.    Mena itself was actually formed in 1896 as a midway point for the railroad between Fort Smith and Texarkana.    It was founded by Arthur Stillwell while working for the railroad which was being built through the area.   An investor of the railroad, Jan de Goeijen, helped Stillwell come up with the money to finish the line between Kansas City and the Gulf Coast.   Mena was named for de Goeijen's wife, Folmina (this is the Mena part) Margaretha Janssen De Goeijen.  There is an area of Mena that some of the residents still call Stillwell Heights (obviously named so after Arthur Stillwell).   At one point, there was an elementary school in town that also bore his name.    That property has since become a retirement/rest home.   Folmina Margaretha Janssen De Goeijen not only had the town named after her, but eventually the main city park (Janssen Park) and Janssen Street were also named after her.    Trains would stop in Mena to fill with water and supplies for the railroad.   It was also a passenger station.   Because of the business that was building when the railroad came through town, Dallas deteriorated and Mena was eventually named the county seat.  Mena had its highest population early in its history around 1900.   Much of this was due to the railroad stopping in the area.   It was a bustling community with saloons and stores of all kinds.   In other words, it was the opposite of what it is today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, Mena is a bustling little community of over 5,500 residents.   It is not a racially diverse community, but I have noticed that this is changing a little bit within the past few years.   There are several things in this area that we seem to be well known for:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  The tornado that killed 3 and devastated a good part of town on April 9th, 2009.&lt;br /&gt;2.  Drugs for Guns/Iran-Contra Scandal. (70's and 80's)&lt;br /&gt;3.  Marijuana (back in the 1970's - people I met in California and Texas knew of Mena because of the pot)&lt;br /&gt;4.  Lum and Abner (Norris Goff and Chester Lauck - a famous radio pair from the 1930's to the mid 1950's)&lt;br /&gt;5.  T. Texas Tyler (A country music singer and songwriter in the 1950's).&lt;br /&gt;6.  Queen Wilhelmina State Park (even though it is not actually in city limits).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SfAjE7n128I/AAAAAAAAAFI/uVZQd3ZeV_U/s1600-h/qw_subsubnav_photo_lodge.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 215px; height: 220px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SfAjE7n128I/AAAAAAAAAFI/uVZQd3ZeV_U/s400/qw_subsubnav_photo_lodge.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327796926810545090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are good and bad things about every community.   Mena is a beautiful little town with a friendly face.   Industries in the area were hit pretty hard by the tornado a couple of weeks ago, but all are in the process of cleaning up and rebuilding.   New housing starts and remodeling appeared to be on the decline due to the economy.   The tornado took care of that in a positive way.   Area businesses are thriving because of the tornado.    For all the bad the tornado did in destroying peoples lives and livelihoods, it has been a boon for the area economy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are several small lakes in the area (Mena, Wilhelmina, Irons Fork and Shady), but to reach real recreational lakes, one has to travel to Lake Ouchita, Gilham Lake, Broken Bow Lake and any of a number of larger lakes within a couple of hours of Mena.   The small lakes in our area are good grounds for some great bass fishing as well as crappie, catfish, blue gill (and other sunfish species).   Nearby there are miles of National Forest and areas of beauty untouched by industry.   Wildlife in the area is like a roller coaster.    In the early years, wolves, bears, deer, elk, turkey, and many other species were very abundant in the area.   Wolves, elk, and some of the cat species (mountain lions in particular) have been hunted to extinction, although once in a while someone reports the occasional panther, mountain lion or wolf.   No confirmed kills have been reported in the area in recent history and this leads game and fish officials to report they do not exist in the area.   Where bear were once plentiful in the area, now there are some still roaming the hills around Mena.   The Mena area was once well known nationwide for its turkey populations, but over-hunting and weather have brought those populations way down.   The deer population is very up and down.    I know too many people who are poachers in the area and to them, hunting season is 24/7/365.    We have a couple of rivers which flow in and around Mena including the Ouchita and Mountain Fork.   We call them rivers here, but to most people, they are nothing more than creeks.   The many creeks are great for fishing for bass and catfish.    Near Mena one can also find Wolf Pen Gap.   It is a huge trail area in the national forest for 4-wheelers and motorcylces.   It is not uncommon to see vehicles pulling campers and trailers full of 4-wheelers on their way to the trails.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Land and housing in Mena is pretty affordable, but taxes, food, electric, gas, and other necessities are no cheaper to a little bit more expensive than in other areas of Arkansas.   I talk to some of my relatives in the Northeast (Connecticut to Maine) as well as some relatives in Texas and North Caroline and they can't believe the cost of land here.   An example of this is that here you can get a nice cozy house with a few acres for less than $100,000.   Houses in town are usually a little more expensive than those outside of town (no surprise there).    One relative of mine has a house in a coastal community in Connecticut.   According to her, my house with the property that I have would be worth a couple of million where she lives.    One of the best parts about the area is that the crime rate is very low.   I'm not saying we don't have any crime at all, but rather that there are far less crimes in this area than anywhere else I have ever lived.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Industries we have in the area are not huge, but they do keep the community rolling.   Wal-Mart is the largest employer in the city, but most of its employees are part time and are working for minimal wages.    Very few of their employees even receive health benefits.   Emerson (U.S. Motors), Brodix, Street &amp;amp; Performance, and several small businesses at our airport are the employers that many want to work for because of a little bit better salary and benefits.   Among the shopping opportunities in the area, most do ALL of their shopping at Wally World.   We do have a competing grocery store in town as well as several other small business which sell grocery type items.   We have two new car dealerships in town and a handful of used car dealers.  There are several agricultural stores (Atwoods and SFA) are the two most prominent.   We have a couple of hardware stores.   There are a lot of small mom and pop businesses (family operations) in town.   We have a couple of video stores and one movie theatre.   Overall, the town does have a lot of shopping opportunities, but the selection is nothing like one would find in a mall or a larger community.    We have many restaurants in the area, but I really like just a few of them (Papa Pablanos, Fish Net, Spinellis, and Chopping Block).   Of course there are some fast food places just like most towns our size.   There are quite a few convenience stores and gas stations around the town, but only a handful are open 24/7.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SfAiZ1kp8_I/AAAAAAAAAE4/3Lq0_gbLhzI/s1600-h/Log+Cabin+at+Janssen+Park+Mena+Arkansas.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SfAiZ1kp8_I/AAAAAAAAAE4/3Lq0_gbLhzI/s320/Log+Cabin+at+Janssen+Park+Mena+Arkansas.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327796186452194290" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some people believe (especially the kids) believe that there is nothing for the youth in the area.  I beg to differ.   There are a lot of opportunities for recreation, but few of them are taken advantage of.   There is a bowling alley, a movie theatre and of course dragging around town.   The kids think this is it (except for beer parties out in the middle of nowhere).   It is sad that they don't take advantage of the beautiful nature in the area.   Fishing can be done year round.   There are miles and miles of areas to hike, fish and camp.   There are volunteer areas all over the community.   I guess these are all too boring for today's youth.   There is a community pool which is open during the summer, and Mena is building a skate park.  If you know any kids who really want to expand their horizons and see what is here, just send them to me.   I really like to promote volunteerism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have one school district in Mena and several smaller districts nearby.   Mena has one K-2 school (Louise Durham) which is now the oldest campus in the district.   One of the newest campuses is Holly Harshman which houses grades 3-5.  Our middle school was destroyed by the tornado so the 6th graders are now attending classes in a building which belongs to Dallas Avenue Baptist Church.   The 7th and 8th graders are attending classes now at the Hatfield campus (Hatfield consolidated into the Mena district several years back).   The Hatfield campus is old and really inadequate, but it is better than no facilities, and the district already owned the buildings.   The high school was built 1976 and has been added to many times.   I've been told that plans are to build a new high school in the future and to place the middle school kids in the current high school (but I don't know that for sure).    What I do know is that overall the schools here are very good.   Oh, there are problems as in any district, but from my experience with my own kids, I was very satisfied with the education they received.   I can't say the same for the education I got when I went there, but that was a long time ago and you can really see the difference in the quality of the students they now produce.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the 1920's, Commonwealth College was located in Mena.   It was considered a very liberal socialistic school and closed in 1940 having been accused of teaching communism.  In the 70's Rich Mountain Vo-Tech was built.   Once opened, it became a very active little school teaching mechanics, construction and nursing, along with a few other trades.   Eventually the school was changed to a community college and the trade school mentality was replaced with true college credits.  Over the years, the college has grown and in some areas they offer a bachelor's degree in association with other 4-year colleges.    The college was severely damaged by the tornado, but repairs were quickly under way and the school plans to end the semester on time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't even tell you the numbers of churches in the area.   Sometimes it seems like there is a church on every street corner.   Most denominations are well covered in our area with the exception of the Jewish, Hindu and Muslim religions.    A lot of the churches in the area have really stepped up to help those with needs following the tornado.   Several offer meals to victims and workers in the affected areas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mena has one regional hospital with a small staff of doctor's and nurses.   It has a fairly good reputation, but does not offer the quality or quantity of care that are available in larger communities a few hours drive from here (Fort Smith, Hot Springs, Little Rock and Texarkana).  We do have many doctors practicing in the area.   There are several dentists located in town, but I have to go to the VA in Little Rock for most of my medical and dental care.   There are too many pharmacies for a town this size, but they all seem to manage to survive so who am I to say.    I do know that Mena does not have a trauma rating and in serious cases, patients are flown or driven to larger hospitals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess this is just a little summary of Mena right off the top of my head.   I just looked into some of the information available on-line about the city, but most that I found was either out-dated or inadequate.   If anyone has any questions about this area, just feel free to message me.   In future posts I will talk about other areas I have lived or visited.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Don't dive in the shallow end&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1311137249656177044-2730246211208615690?l=ongrayspond.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/feeds/2730246211208615690/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/2009/04/home-mena-arkansas.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1311137249656177044/posts/default/2730246211208615690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1311137249656177044/posts/default/2730246211208615690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/2009/04/home-mena-arkansas.html' title='Home - - Mena, Arkansas'/><author><name>On Gray's Pond - Walt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08543625317536100176</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/Sc2p3P6zPQI/AAAAAAAAAAM/o993ZC_ERjk/S220/08July2+072.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SfAiIKIFajI/AAAAAAAAAEw/N5_Tm3eexHM/s72-c/Tornado2+09+033.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1311137249656177044.post-320345821469005475</id><published>2009-04-15T14:29:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-15T15:18:17.661-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bob/Marley, the Perfect Mama</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-1f4d165579395dc" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v24.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D01f4d165579395dc%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331242002%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D1BCDFA240626E63B783133CBF964A52C0EAD6A1.7D703E5BB721F1DE13B094B833B4D5E6C7D8AFC1%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D1f4d165579395dc%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DK_zjotRojQpRTRUeLlm9kUjj53A&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v24.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D01f4d165579395dc%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331242002%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D1BCDFA240626E63B783133CBF964A52C0EAD6A1.7D703E5BB721F1DE13B094B833B4D5E6C7D8AFC1%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D1f4d165579395dc%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DK_zjotRojQpRTRUeLlm9kUjj53A&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;Bob/Marley/Bobbie Sox had five kittens last night.   I have been watching her like a hawk lately.   I was convinced she was going to have them last weekend so we took her to Fayetteville with us.   She looked so huge.   She isn't a big cat (but neither was her mom).   Anyway, last night I decided it would be a great night to go fishing since Darrell had the night off.   We didn't leave the house until about midnight.   She was acting a little bit funny, but she has been acting funny for a couple of weeks now.   I had prepared a place for her in our closet that she loves to kind of hide in.   Carolyn was home and didn't go to bed until 2:30 am.  Bob hadn't had her kittens at that time.   I came home from fishing a little bit after 5 am.  When I got home, the first thing I did was to go check on her.   Sure enough there were 5 newborn kittens.  The weren't as small as I was hoping they would be (for Bob's sake) but that is a good sign that they are healthy.  Poor Bob looked like she had been beaten.   She and the kittens were shivering and it didn't appear that Bob was able to feed them.   I got a bit worried.   I went to my shed and got a light that I could put over the box and that helped warm them all.   I gave Bob some water, which she drank like a cat who had been in the desert for weeks.    Because I was worried about the kittens feeding, I woke Jamie up around 6.  Jamie is the resident animal expert of the family.   She reassured me that things were probably okay, but told me to watch carefully.   Anyway, Bob began feeding the kittens and was showing that she is the perfect mama cat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got Bob, I was told that her short/bobbed tail was that way since birth, but many doubted this.   The young girl that gave her to me just called her Bob even though she was a girl.  It kinda stuck with many of us.   I started calling her Bob Marley, while other members of my family called her Bobbie Sox and Marley.   None of the names really bother me, and the cat doesn't really answer to any of them.   I can tell that she does know the names, but she isn't a cat that you can go out and call when you want.   She comes and goes on her own time table.   She is an excellent hunter and is always bringing me treats.  She is the most loving, people cat I have had in my life.   Even though she was born and spent the first part of her life around a ton of other animals, since she has been with me, she won't tolerate other animals around, with the exception of the raccoons that come to eat her food from time to time.   She complete ignores the dogs as she comes and goes.  I am a big animal lover and have had some great animals in my life.   My last cat, Arthur, disappeared about this time last year.   He was a one man cat.   I was sad when he disappeared and decided I couldn't stand the heartbreak of losing another one.   I was taking some pictures for the young girl described above and she wanted to pay me by giving me Bob (clever way of getting rid of kittens).  I didn't feel like I could say no, so I reluctantly took her when she was old enough.   I am so happy that I did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, for all you animal lovers out there, I didn't intend for her to get pregnant.   She spent pretty much the whole winter in the house.   We kept meaning to get her fixed, but being the idiot that I can be at times, I didn't get it done on time.   Once I realized that she was pregnant, I could have taken her to the vet and had her fixed and the kittens removed, but I just couldn't do that.   Soooo, here I am now with 6 cats.   They appear to be very beautiful little babies.   One of the kittens appears to be a beige/muted orange color with a long tail.   The others are all variations of black, grey, and white.   One appears to be marked very similar to Bob.   The interesting thing to me is that one of the kittens has a tail that is bobbed and has the same little bend in it that Bob does.   There is another who has an even shorter tail. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do promise to get Bob/Marley/Bobbie fixed as soon as possible, but right now I am going to let her enjoy being a great mom.   I am enjoying watching the kittens and look forward to when the kids and grandkids get to come see them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From a man who has no right to say this, "GET YOUR ANIMALS SPAYED AND NEUTERED".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Don't dive in the shallow end&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1311137249656177044-320345821469005475?l=ongrayspond.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=1f4d165579395dc&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/feeds/320345821469005475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/2009/04/bobmarley-perfect-mama.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1311137249656177044/posts/default/320345821469005475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1311137249656177044/posts/default/320345821469005475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/2009/04/bobmarley-perfect-mama.html' title='Bob/Marley, the Perfect Mama'/><author><name>On Gray's Pond - Walt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08543625317536100176</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/Sc2p3P6zPQI/AAAAAAAAAAM/o993ZC_ERjk/S220/08July2+072.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1311137249656177044.post-2546781164329278347</id><published>2009-04-14T10:41:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T11:13:11.441-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Disbelief</title><content type='html'>I've seen the destruction of a tornado first hand on many occasions.   In 1993 the City of Mena experienced its first tornado since the 1950's.  At the time, many people in the area seemed devastated by the damage caused by the tornado.  I have to admit that I was in awe of the way things were just tossed around, but in terms of actual destruction to structures, it was a minor tornado.   The city park received the worst of the damage.   In March of 1997, I lived part-time in the city of Arkadelphia where I was teaching school (I drove home to my family in Mena on weekends).  On the 1st of March a tornado struck there that did a ton of damage.   The path was clearly visible and parts of the town were unrecognizable.   As a teacher, I had to deal with the intense emotions of the students in my classes.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;None of this compares with what has occurred within the last week here in Mena.   Although this tornado wasn't the largest, I am in total disbelief of the damage it caused.   I guess the part that really hits me hardest is that I know the people that were affected.   This tornado hit home.   What people who don't know this area don't understand is that this is an older community.   There isn't a neighborhood that isn't loaded with old oak and pine trees.  These neighborhoods were pretty much stripped of those trees, and much of the damage caused to homes was caused by the falling trees.   I'm not saying that homes weren't torn apart by the storm itself, but that the loss of trees is what makes the areas unrecognizable to me.   The stories of the survivors are extreme.  The stories of those who lost their lives and loved ones is sad.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing this tornado has done that may help others is that people from around this area weren't really prepared for, or worried about tornadoes.  Many don't heed tornado warnings believing that it won't happen here.   No more.   I wish that this would serve as notice to everyone everywhere that it CAN happen, anywhere and at any time.   Even though it most likely won't happen, precautions need to be taken.   May it serve as a wake-up call to all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Don't dive in the shallow end&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1311137249656177044-2546781164329278347?l=ongrayspond.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/feeds/2546781164329278347/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/2009/04/disbelief.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1311137249656177044/posts/default/2546781164329278347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1311137249656177044/posts/default/2546781164329278347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/2009/04/disbelief.html' title='Disbelief'/><author><name>On Gray's Pond - Walt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08543625317536100176</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/Sc2p3P6zPQI/AAAAAAAAAAM/o993ZC_ERjk/S220/08July2+072.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1311137249656177044.post-1082198477762355477</id><published>2009-04-05T03:04:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-05T03:11:50.677-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Organization</title><content type='html'>Last night Darrell and Katie came by the house.   I fixed some grilled cheese sandwiches and we played pinochle.   We decided that we would go to Irons Fork Lake on Saturday morning (today).   Little to say, Katie and I got skunked by the weasel.  Regardless, any time spent fishing is far better than work, even if you don't catch a thing.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got home this afternoon, I started in on the yard and the shed.   It seems like I am making progress, but as soon as I finish one area, I notice that in making the one area neat, I have moved a bunch of stuff out of the way.   It kind of makes it difficult to tell that I have made any progress at times.   The other problem that I have is that I will start on one particular task.   I'll be working away for quite a while, when all of a sudden I realize that I'm not working on the task that I started working on.   I tend to jump from one task to another, and another....   I guess I'm not the most organized person in the world.   REGARDLESS, I can really see that things are falling into place (all over).   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow I will be right back at it, and on Monday, Joe is coming down so that we can power wash the house.    I probably should have done it long ago, but it always seems much easier to do things when Joe and/or Jamie are here.    They are definitely motivators.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy the rest of your weekend...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;W&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Don't dive in the shallow end&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1311137249656177044-1082198477762355477?l=ongrayspond.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/feeds/1082198477762355477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/2009/04/organization.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1311137249656177044/posts/default/1082198477762355477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1311137249656177044/posts/default/1082198477762355477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/2009/04/organization.html' title='Organization'/><author><name>On Gray's Pond - Walt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08543625317536100176</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/Sc2p3P6zPQI/AAAAAAAAAAM/o993ZC_ERjk/S220/08July2+072.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1311137249656177044.post-8436656707114719219</id><published>2009-03-31T01:20:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-31T01:32:15.125-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Facebook</title><content type='html'>Last night I stayed up until almost 4 a.m. downloading photos and putting them on my blog and on facebook.   Little did I know what I was getting myself into.   Now I'm at war with my daughters.   I hope I have the upper hand with all the boxes of photos I have beside me, but Jamie drew some serious blood from me with a photo taken in 1980.   I have no clue what brought me to put on Carolyn's footie pajamas (and yes there was a flap in the back-lol).    I also have no clue why I would let her take a picture of me wearing them.   I guess I was unconsciously thinking of the future for when my kids needed some ammo on me.    Truthfully, I am having a blast posting on here and catching up with folks on facebook.   The only bad things is that it is very addictive.   I hate to leave for fear that I might miss something.   Yes, I know, you can't really miss something because it will be there whenever you want to see it, but it is so much fun to just punch some lines back at something someone wrote.    I think Carolyn thinks I've gone nuts.   She forgets that I went nuts years ago.   Anyway Girls,   &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;LET THE GAMES BEGIN.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Don't dive in the shallow end&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1311137249656177044-8436656707114719219?l=ongrayspond.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/feeds/8436656707114719219/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/2009/03/facebook.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1311137249656177044/posts/default/8436656707114719219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1311137249656177044/posts/default/8436656707114719219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/2009/03/facebook.html' title='Facebook'/><author><name>On Gray's Pond - Walt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08543625317536100176</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/Sc2p3P6zPQI/AAAAAAAAAAM/o993ZC_ERjk/S220/08July2+072.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1311137249656177044.post-580828630895751684</id><published>2009-03-29T21:26:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-29T21:38:23.815-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Weekends</title><content type='html'>I know that it is Sunday and the weekend seems to have flown by.    In reality to me, once you retire, one day just kind of melts into the next.   The only thing more exciting about weekends it that Carolyn is home and a couple of times a month we get to see our girls and their families.   I guess the closest thing that I can compare it to is when I was a kid and it was summer vacation.  I can remember loving summer vacation and that the days just seemed to melt together.     Often when you ask me what the date is or what day it is, I really have to stop and think.   I do know that there have been times in my life when weekends didn't matter.   When I worked at the pool and my kids were with me, every day was a weekend.    Maybe that is the trick.   Find something that you love doing.   That way you don't dread going back to work or on the first day of the week all you can think about is the upcoming weekend.     I know that a lot of you don't have this option at this point in your lives right now - - But hang in there.   Things can always change...   Happy Monday everyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.zwani.com/graphics/days_of_the_week/monday/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.zwani.com/graphics/days_of_the_week/monday/images/6monday26.gif" alt="zwani.com myspace graphic comments" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.zwani.com/graphics/days_of_the_week/monday/" target="_blank"&gt;Myspace Monday Comments&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Don't dive in the shallow end&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1311137249656177044-580828630895751684?l=ongrayspond.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/feeds/580828630895751684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/2009/03/weekends.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1311137249656177044/posts/default/580828630895751684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1311137249656177044/posts/default/580828630895751684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/2009/03/weekends.html' title='Weekends'/><author><name>fossil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11911272269503053740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1311137249656177044.post-1381402640388938766</id><published>2009-03-29T10:18:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T12:54:17.992-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Texas</title><content type='html'>After my discharge, we decided to move to Texas to be near Carolyn's family.   We started out living with Carolyn's Mom in Dallas til we both found jobs and knew where we would settle.  I found a job in North Dallas doing Landscaping at Valley Ranch (Home of the Cowboys training facility).   Carolyn eventually found work as a teacher in Keene, TX.   Because of her job, I quit mine and we moved to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Cleburne&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.  By this time, Kori was 3+ and Jamie was 1+.    My first job after we moved there was working in a bingo hall in Fort Worth, TX.  The money wasn't great, but it was a living.   It was an interesting experience.   It wasn't what I would call a great job, but I did meet a lot of interesting people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventually, I found a job working for a pest control company in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Cleburne&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.  They sent me to termite school at Texas A&amp;amp;M.     It wasn't a bad job, especially since I knew that I was there because they were going to open a nursery in the spring.  I learned the ins and outs of pest control and became known as the "Rat Man".   I specialized in the eradication of rodents.   I got to see experimental aircraft at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Aerospatial&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; while catching rats that were chewing on wires at the facility.  I remember that at one little shopping center with a grocery store that I had a kill count of well over 1,000 critters.   What a mess.    As spring was approaching I was switched over to build the nursery.   I prepared the grounds, built a greenhouse and ordered materials for the opening.   A couple of weeks before the grand opening they hired a young girl straight out of college.   She was a very nice person, but had no real experience.   Because she had a degree, she was put in charge of me.   I didn't take it well at all.   So, I left and got a job at a competing nursery across town.   It was new also.   It didn't take long before I was rolling.    I loved the people I worked with and had a lot of fun.  Initially I was working part-time there.   So, I took a full-time position working in the hot check department at Winn-Dixie in Fort Worth.    It was a small office with a staff that was a lot of fun.   You wouldn't believe how some people abuse check writing privileges in this world.   They were still using carbon paper between the copies of the forms they used, which was a royal pain if you made a mistake.   I had quite a bit of experience on the computers we used from working in the Marine Corps, so I programmed all of the forms we used into the computer and brought the office up to date with the rest of the world.   I worked there for a year or so until I decided that I really wanted to go to college.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I began working full-time at Tumbleweed.  There was a small junior college in town, Hill College,  so I started going to school.    I found that at some point after I left high school I developed a brain.   My high school grades were not much to speak about.    In college I got straight A's.     I had one teacher that I took &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;English&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; classes from who was a real hoot.   She would decide which classes she would teach each semester and then bug a couple of us to take her class.   I had always hated English, but because her classes were fun, I took them anyway.  I took almost everything that I could there in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Cleburne&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.   When I ran out of classes to take there, I transferred to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Tarleton&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; State University in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Stephenville&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, TX (later to become Texas A&amp;amp;M, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Tarleton&lt;/span&gt;).   I took classes with a desire to receive a degree in physical education.   The commute was tough, but a co-worker of mine was taking classes there as well so we rode together.   Because I wasn't very confident in my math, I took &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;pre&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;-algebra instead of jumping right into the credit course.   The book for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;pre&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;-algebra and for credit algebra was the same.   The first half of the book was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;pre&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, and the second half was the algebra course itself.   Commuting to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Stephenville&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; and working full time was taking its toll on me, so I decided that I would drop out of school and stick with Tumbleweed alone for a while.  I did take my algebra course back at Hill College.   We used the same book we used at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Tarleton&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.  The instructor was senile and it was his last class before retiring.   I expected to do the second half of the book, but when he gave us the syllabus I found we were doing the same work I had already done.   I had all my notes and tests from my last class so it was a breeze.   Everyone in class thought I was a genius (if they only knew).   That was my last course for quite a while.   I was given the management position at the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Burleson&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (home of Kelly &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Clarkson&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;) store.   There were some awesome people working with me and I really gained a lot of valuable experience.    Eventually, the owner's sold the store to a family who planned to make it a family operation.   Little to say, I was out of a job, but I got a new job working at the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;GMF&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Postal Facility in Fort Worth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Working at the post office was the best paying job, I had ever had.  I worked as a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;mailhandler&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; on the night shift.   It was probably one of the easiest and most boring jobs I ever had.   The unions had taken over the post office, so I had to join the union.    The benefits were good, but the work was very &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;monotonous&lt;/span&gt;.   Unload a truck, load a truck, sort packages and bundles of magazines.   Night after night was the same thing.   I became the safety officer at the post office and found that with the union, my job was impossible.   I was written up by my own union several times because of my writing up people for safety violations.   Heck, black supervisors were being charged by the union with racial discrimination against black employees.   The unions won and one black supervisor was booted down from his position.  It was all a joke (not funny ha ha).   I hated &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;Cleburne&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; and longed to move back to Arkansas, which we did in the summer of 1990.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Don't dive in the shallow end&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1311137249656177044-1381402640388938766?l=ongrayspond.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/feeds/1381402640388938766/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/2009/03/texas.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1311137249656177044/posts/default/1381402640388938766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1311137249656177044/posts/default/1381402640388938766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/2009/03/texas.html' title='Texas'/><author><name>fossil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11911272269503053740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1311137249656177044.post-7579691050538109637</id><published>2009-03-28T23:11:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T13:04:05.725-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Corps</title><content type='html'>After my Junior year of high school, I enlisted in the Marine Corps.   There was one hitch though.   Before they would let me get a full clearance, I had to have a hernia operation.   The doc at the recruiting station was a quack.   I went back to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Mena&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; and went and saw the surgeon about this supposed hernia - AGAIN.   He told me that I didn't have a hernia - AGAIN.   I took his notes back to the station, but the doc up there wouldn't clear me.   So, I had a hernia operation for a hernia that wasn't there.   What I did have was a cyst (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;hydrocoele&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;).   Once I had the surgery I was all set to leave after graduation.   My best friend, Vernon, joined with me and I referred one other person as well so I was guaranteed a promotion upon graduation from training.   On June 29&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; we headed off to boot camp.   Not a good choice.   Compared to a lot of places, San Diego is not killer hot, but the worst months are July and August.   The heat during combat training was murder.  I had it fairly easy during recruit training mainly because I knew exactly what I was getting into and was pretty well prepared.   Oh the stories I could tell about boot camp.    But I won't.   I'll save that for another rant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_p30rxUOioDM/SdBKHB2eKQI/AAAAAAAAAAM/onvn9huf2MU/s1600-h/IMG_0013.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 232px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_p30rxUOioDM/SdBKHB2eKQI/AAAAAAAAAAM/onvn9huf2MU/s320/IMG_0013.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318832644540999938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I finished boot camp I came home on leave and started seeing Carolyn (more on that in another post).   We were engaged on October 19&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; and later married on December 29&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.   We started out living with my sister in San Diego and I commuted to school at Camp &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Pendleton&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, CA.   Once we were able to afford it, we got a little apartment in Oceanside.   It was a pretty run down place but Carolyn cleaned it up well.    The only things we had to our name other than our clothes was a TV and her car.   We couldn't afford furnishings, but somehow things were provided to us so that we could get by.   A mattress and box springs was left in the closet of the place we moved in to, so with a ton of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;lysol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, we had a place to sleep.   My sister gave us an old beanbag chair that she had and that was our main seat.   Slowly but surely we found old furniture here and there and were able to get ourselves set up.   Money was really, really, really, really tight.   It took the Corp forever to get me registered as married so that my pay would go up.    I remember having to resort to giving blood plasma to make ends meet.     Carolyn signed on to be a substitute teacher, but that was a disaster.   Everyone made fun of her accent.   It was very difficult for her because she had never been farther than a couple of hours from her parents.   This was a major change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After graduating from court reporter transcriber school, I was stationed there at Camp &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Pendleton&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.  I worked in a small office with one &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;stenotype&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; reporter.   Our office was busy and the reporter didn't like to have to go to court all the time.   I got a crash course in reporting and then became a court reporter myself.   I logged over 200 cases before I got out.     It was a fairly boring job, but it was a cushy job.   I worked with all the brass and was protected as a result.   Don't mess with Corporal Gray was the Colonel's slogan (He called us the Two Wallys.  His name was Wally Campbell).     I was also known as the gopher king in the office.  Because the gophers/ground squirrels would rip up the lawn around our office, we had to find ways to send them packing.   Whenever I wasn't busy, I would get out the hose and flood their holes .   They would drag their soaking wet little bodies down the hill and would be gone for a while.   I can still remember the poster they stuck over my desk while I was in court one day.  It said "Learn to eat your problems for breakfast" and there was a picture of one of the little rodents on the poster.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_p30rxUOioDM/SdBKd8tTdMI/AAAAAAAAAAU/pRStk5b6bj8/s1600-h/IMG_0004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 254px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_p30rxUOioDM/SdBKd8tTdMI/AAAAAAAAAAU/pRStk5b6bj8/s320/IMG_0004.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318833038297363650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the first purchases that Carolyn and I ever made was a stereo from sears.   It was state of the art.   It had a phonograph, am/&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;fm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; stereo, an 8-track player, and a cassette player.    Looking back I know that the system wasn't all that great, but I was proud of it.   One of the great things about being a young married couple in Southern California was that there was always something to do.   We would go to the beach one weekend, to the mountains the next and to the desert the next.   There was no shortage of things to do.   Only a shortage of funds, so we did a whole lot of free stuff or at least very cheap stuff.   We ended up buying season passes to Sea World in San Diego.   They weren't very expensive and we went there a lot.  All it cost us was the gas to get there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p30rxUOioDM/SdBLDR46GyI/AAAAAAAAAAk/5UGie3B8Txk/s1600-h/IMG_0003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 260px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p30rxUOioDM/SdBLDR46GyI/AAAAAAAAAAk/5UGie3B8Txk/s320/IMG_0003.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318833679638338338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;In '81 I got to buy a new vehicle.    Money was still tight, but we really needed two cars.   I had a friend that worked at the Chevy Dealer near where we moved to in Vista, CA.    I bought a brand new California Edition Chevy Luv 4X4.    This just added to the recreational opportunities for us.   It was a good little truck, but it had no ground clearance.   My friends and I would go off road 4-wheeling &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;a lot&lt;/span&gt;.   Their goal was to try to go places that I would get stuck.   Many was the time they had to come and pull me off when I got high-centered.   I learned in the desert that lowering your air pressure can help to increase traction in the sand.   I loved that little truck and all was going well... until Carolyn got pregnant.   All of a sudden we realized that my little truck was not going to hold the two of us and a baby in a car seat.   So...  we traded in both of our vehicles and bought a new Toyota Corolla station wagon.   We got it a few months before Kori was born and loved having it.     We put a lot of miles on that old car.   One of my friends owned a Subaru Brat (the kind with the jump seats in the bed).   He used to drive off-road to get to places thinking I wouldn't follow him in the station wagon.   He was wrong.   It went everywhere he did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In February of 1982 our first daughter, Kori, was born and within a few days after her birth I was given orders for an unaccompanied tour to Okinawa, Japan.   I was overjoyed at the birth of Kori, but was completely down about having to leave Carolyn and the baby stateside.   I moved all of our belongings to Dallas and got on a plane for Okinawa.   Kori was just 6 weeks old at the time.   It was a very depressing time in my life.   Every week I would get letters from Carolyn telling me about what Kori was doing and lots of pictures.   I felt like an outsider looking at my own family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After I had been in Okinawa for about 6 months, I was given leave and got to fly home for two weeks.   Carolyn had moved up to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Mena&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; by this time and was working there.  I can remember the long flight home (sitting in a C130 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;re-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;fueler&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;).   Nothing like a 20+ hour flight in a jump seat (they aren't comfortable and they don't recline) facing a huge fuel storage tank.   We landed for a short stop in Anchorage, Alaska and then flew on to Oakland California.   There I caught a plane to Los Angeles and then on to Dallas and Fort Smith.   Carolyn picked me up at the airport and took me to where she was living at the time.   I don't think I have ever been so tired in my life.   I was excited to see her and the baby, but I couldn't hold my head up or keep my eyes open.   Poor Carolyn thought I had lost interest in her.   She found out once I got a little sleep that this was not at all the case.    One of the hardest things about coming home was seeing all of the things that I had missed by being away.   Kori was 9 months old and was definitely full of vinegar.  She only liked 4 people - and I wasn't one of them.   She didn't like the fact that I was taking her mom's attention away even for a second.   It took a lot of effort for me to hold her without her screaming bloody murder.   I was glad to be home seeing my family, but when it came time to return to Okinawa it was even more difficult to return.   This time I caught a flight in Dallas, flew to LA, then to Oakland, then to Hawaii, then across the pond to Tokyo, then on to Okinawa.   I felt as though I was in the air for an eternity.   Time did pass, but it sure wasn't quick.   In April of '83 I got orders for Camp &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Pendleton&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; again.   I returned home, packed up the belongings and the family moved again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This time we settled down in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Fallbrook&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, CA.   I was no longer a court reporter.   I had been promoted to Sergeant and was assigned to a brand new legal unit (1st Legal Support Team - Delta).   We got our operation running on the main part of the base and then 9 months later we moved our offices to the northern part of the base.   I was able to apply for base housing, which we got on a hillside with a beautiful view of the Pacific Ocean.   Just north of our little home you could see San Clemente, CA with the multi-million dollar homes with the same view we had.   It was probably the nicest place we had ever lived in up to that point in our lives.  Prior to the move, Carolyn became pregnant with our second child, Jamie.   More about my children's births in another post later.   Jamie was a welcome addition to our little family and Kori loved her dearly (of course we all did).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_p30rxUOioDM/SdBLC6jv3TI/AAAAAAAAAAc/3st1Dmck7YM/s1600-h/IMG_0002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 227px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_p30rxUOioDM/SdBLC6jv3TI/AAAAAAAAAAc/3st1Dmck7YM/s320/IMG_0002.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318833673375571250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;After almost a year there, I was given orders for recruiting duty.   I attended school in San Diego.  I can honestly say that it was the most difficult course I have ever been through in my life.   The cool part was that we were at the recruit depot there in SD.   It was amazing to see all the changes that had been made in the short 5+ years that I had been in the Corps.   I did well in recruiting school and was given my choice of duty stations.   I applied for Fort Smith, AR, Dallas, TX and Little Rock, AR.   I was given my first choice.   I thought I would be in heaven being so close to home.   I knew a lot of people there.   That isn't a good thing.   I have this little fault.... I couldn't lie (or stretch the truth).    The Marine Corps and Air Force had the highest requirements to get in at that time.   When I found a kid who was trying to decide between college and the Corps, I always encouraged them to go to college.   That's not what a good recruiter is supposed to do.   A good recruiter isn't supposed to lie, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; but they did encourage not telling the whole truth.   I had a big problem with this.   Little to say, my numbers were not good at all.   I didn't make it on recruiting duty and got out of the Corps in July of '85.  It was an honorable discharge under medical conditions.   More about that in another post.    When I got out, they moved our belongings to Dallas, TX.   I'll begin there in the next chapter.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Don't dive in the shallow end&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1311137249656177044-7579691050538109637?l=ongrayspond.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/feeds/7579691050538109637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/2009/03/corps.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1311137249656177044/posts/default/7579691050538109637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1311137249656177044/posts/default/7579691050538109637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/2009/03/corps.html' title='The Corps'/><author><name>fossil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11911272269503053740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_p30rxUOioDM/SdBKHB2eKQI/AAAAAAAAAAM/onvn9huf2MU/s72-c/IMG_0013.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1311137249656177044.post-5634355216551430911</id><published>2009-03-28T13:14:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T13:09:32.886-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mena Teens</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SdBQGLnOgsI/AAAAAAAAABI/A34pSHTTFxA/s1600-h/first_shot_beverly_hillbillies.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SdBQGLnOgsI/AAAAAAAAABI/A34pSHTTFxA/s200/first_shot_beverly_hillbillies.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318839227051311810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In June of '73 we moved to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Mena&lt;/span&gt; with a full car load.  My father purchased a small nursery with a house on the property.  Part of the house used to be a general mercantile called the Old Rock Store.  It was a four bedroom house on the west side of town.   My bedroom served both as where I slept and also as the family room.   Money was very tight.   Everyone in the family was required to pitch in and help with the business.   In theory that was great, but in reality my parents discovered that making my sisters work there cost them more than it was worth.   I remember building flats for the plants, building cups for the plants out of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;tar paper&lt;/span&gt;, and then transplanting the seedlings.   My sisters didn't care about the business and they would kill many of the plants during this process.  Little to say, they were no longer a part of the business.   My little brother was too young to contribute.   I loved it!!   From the time we moved there until when I went into the Marine Corps I worked whenever I could.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mentioned that I thought that everyone in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Mena&lt;/span&gt; would be a hillbilly.  When school started I learned very quickly that although everyone talked funny, they were no different than everywhere else I had ever lived.  I was still one of the smallest kids and no smarter than the average &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;kid&lt;/span&gt;.  The only thing different about me was that I was short but wore a size 10 shoe.  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SdBnXWMiPTI/AAAAAAAAABQ/61v_FA4OKg8/s1600-h/fixed+old+photos_0010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 178px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SdBnXWMiPTI/AAAAAAAAABQ/61v_FA4OKg8/s200/fixed+old+photos_0010.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318864810717363506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;During the summer months, the nursery business is very slow.   When we didn't have work at the nursery, I got a job inserting papers at the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Mena&lt;/span&gt; Star (the local rag).  I don't remember what I got paid, but I'm sure it wasn't much.   Gone are the days when you can get a job as a 12 year old.  When School started I opted to join the football team.   In CT I was in the band.   I wanted to be the next greatest athlete.   The only problem was that I was not gifted in the area of height.  I was fast and I could &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;outjump&lt;/span&gt; just about anyone, but size was what mattered in football.   I got to play a little, but I really didn't have a clue about what I was doing.   When football was over, I tried out for Basketball.   Because I didn't take a physical in the fall, I had to take one before I could play basketball.   Little to say, the doctor said that I had a hernia and couldn't play until I got it fixed.   Turns out it wasn't a hernia at all, but I chose to go back to band.   I played the trombone and had the edge on others in the band.   I had been playing for well over a year while the rest were all beginners.   I never did care much about band, but I liked belonging, so I stuck with it for a while.  At least until I laughed at something that the band director said and she got mad and told me to quit laughing or leave - so I left and changed to study hall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                                             &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SdBpQLROgkI/AAAAAAAAABo/FRL9uv9J_l0/s1600-h/fixed+old+photos_0046.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 171px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SdBpQLROgkI/AAAAAAAAABo/FRL9uv9J_l0/s400/fixed+old+photos_0046.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318866886548423234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                              Jr. High Football 1973 (I was #39 - the second player from the left in the front row)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things were moving along in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Mena&lt;/span&gt;.   My family wasn't getting rich by any stretch of the imagination, but we were keeping busy.  We grew most of what we sold.   We were getting landscape and mowing jobs.   During the fall we sold &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;mums&lt;/span&gt; and fruit trees.  At Christmas we sold poinsettias and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;christmas&lt;/span&gt; trees.  January and February were pretty much dead months and I still don't see how my folks got by.  We had four greenhouses and three of them had to be heated &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SdBqVQwNYaI/AAAAAAAAAB4/2cfGukYelbQ/s1600-h/fixed+old+photos_0011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 188px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SdBqVQwNYaI/AAAAAAAAAB4/2cfGukYelbQ/s200/fixed+old+photos_0011.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318868073431523746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;during the winters.   I can remember one winter was especially bad for us.   Money was ultra-tight and we didn't have a customer for the entire month of January.   Everything was so frozen that we couldn't do any landscaping.   My best friend's parents (Vernon) owned a chicken laying house, so I went out there just about every day and helped gather eggs.   In return I got crates of eggs and some chicken to take home.    That winter we heated the greenhouse with firewood to save money on gas.   My father did most of the stoking of the fire, but I took my turns every night.   What a nightmare.    I know that the temperatures set records that year as well as snowfall records.   The snow was awesome, but the cold sucked.   I didn't have a heater in my room so I froze at night.   I was, however, the only one in my family that never got sick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I was oblivious to a lot of things that happened around &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Mena&lt;/span&gt; when I was growing up.   I never knew that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Mena&lt;/span&gt; was the Marijuana Capitol.   I met people in California and Texas who knew of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Mena&lt;/span&gt; for just that reason.  I did smoke cigarettes and sneaked the occasional beer, but didn't go near the other stuff.    When I got to high school, I rejoined the band and made a lot of new friends.   I was never very good because I NEVER practiced.  I was the foreman of the landscape crew and worked around the nursery when I wasn't on a job.  I enjoyed the business and often got to skip school to go on business trips with Dad.  We spent a lot of time together.   After a hard days work, we would eat dinner and then go out to play some one-on-one basketball.   Dad was left handed and had a killer hook.   I was probably 16 or 17 the first time I beat him.   After that we traded wins back and forth.  Although I wanted to play football, baseball and basketball, the family needed me to work to help get by.   I don't remember ever complaining.    Once I got my license, my pay usually consisted of enough to buy gas and a movie on the weekend.    I still treasure the time with the nursery and don't have any regrets about having to work through my teens.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Don't dive in the shallow end&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1311137249656177044-5634355216551430911?l=ongrayspond.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/feeds/5634355216551430911/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/2009/03/mena-teens.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1311137249656177044/posts/default/5634355216551430911'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1311137249656177044/posts/default/5634355216551430911'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/2009/03/mena-teens.html' title='Mena Teens'/><author><name>fossil</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11911272269503053740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SdBQGLnOgsI/AAAAAAAAABI/A34pSHTTFxA/s72-c/first_shot_beverly_hillbillies.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1311137249656177044.post-1036968222459883755</id><published>2009-03-28T00:20:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T13:16:24.032-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Early Memories</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SdBuLifn-YI/AAAAAAAAACA/DDGTn3OMMxA/s1600-h/fixed+old+photos_0036.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 307px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SdBuLifn-YI/AAAAAAAAACA/DDGTn3OMMxA/s400/fixed+old+photos_0036.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318872304441620866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a kid, I was always the smallest kid in my class.  Because I was a military brat we moved around quite a bit.   Little to say, I always had to work on finding new friends, only to find them and then have to move.   My father was in the Marine Corps (career Marine).  He was a busy man &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SdB37-wc3PI/AAAAAAAAADA/ohxl_VxWUhQ/s1600-h/fixed+old+photos_0033.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SdB37-wc3PI/AAAAAAAAADA/ohxl_VxWUhQ/s200/fixed+old+photos_0033.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318883032266759410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SdB1yucvPQI/AAAAAAAAACo/HYOC-Ww6AbY/s1600-h/G-Man.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 198px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SdB1yucvPQI/AAAAAAAAACo/HYOC-Ww6AbY/s200/G-Man.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318880674247032066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SdB25ThbNuI/AAAAAAAAAC4/lzPSXuHMPbk/s1600-h/fixed+old+photos_0034.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 198px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SdB25ThbNuI/AAAAAAAAAC4/lzPSXuHMPbk/s200/fixed+old+photos_0034.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318881886789646050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;and sometimes I had to fight to get to spend time with him.  I had 4 sisters (two older, a twin, and one younger).   The good part is that although my time with Dad was limited, I can remember that we had a lot of special times together.  He had a love of nurseries and landscaping, and would often take me on some of his moonlighting jobs.  In 1966 my father was sent to Japan for a one-year unaccompanied tour (without the family).  The family packed up and left California to stay near my Mother's relatives in Connecticut.   I felt lost.  I was the only male in the house at the time and I can't remember getting a word in edgewise.   I had a few friends, but mostly I enjoyed spending time with my Grandfather and one of his neighbors, Uncle Charley.   Now Charley &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SdBuzFpg_xI/AAAAAAAAACI/KWU-LeX-kyM/s1600-h/fixed+old+photos_0031.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 194px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SdBuzFpg_xI/AAAAAAAAACI/KWU-LeX-kyM/s200/fixed+old+photos_0031.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318872983893245714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;wasn't really my uncle, but he did more with me and for me than any of my real uncles (no offense to anyone in the family).  I can remember at the ripe old age of 6 that Charley took me on a boy scout outing with the troop he led.   I can still remember the cool beautiful rapids and the fish jumping out of the water.    After that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;camp out&lt;/span&gt;, Charley took me fishing whenever we were in town.   He and his wife didn't have any children, so I guess I filled the part of a part-time son for him.  I learned a lot from Charley (he died a few years ago).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was during this year that my Father was away that I got to know my Grandfather.   He was an awesome old sole who loved to irritate my Grandmother.   He was a quiet gentle man who always showed his love openly towards me.   He taught me about building shelters in the woods and how to avoid the wrath of my Grandmother.   I can remember one time we were walking together in the woods and my Grandmother started yelling for him at the top of her lungs.   I said, "Grandpa, Grandma is calling you".   He responded by saying "I know, but I don't hear her".  Although I didn't get to spend the time with him that many of my other cousins did, whenever we were together, it was special.    I'm not meaning to say that my Grandmother was mean, but she did carry a big stick.  I loved this year that we spent in Connecticut for the special memories that year that I will always treasure.   Unfortunately, there were a lot of other things that happened in that year that I pray that I will someday forget (a two-bedroom apartment shared by my Mother and my four sisters).  My father being gone was probably the worst part of the year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SdBxEqDoYeI/AAAAAAAAACQ/ApQUJvKOsEk/s1600-h/fixed+old+photos_0038.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 132px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SdBxEqDoYeI/AAAAAAAAACQ/ApQUJvKOsEk/s200/fixed+old+photos_0038.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318875484747489762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We lived on the top floor on the right side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upon my Father's return, we once again packed up and headed back to California.  We lived on a military base in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Barstow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (in the middle of HELL - the Mojave Desert).  Now to some people, it was hell.   To a 6 year old, it was paradise.   I lived to explore the desert terrain.   It's a complete &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SdB2aPJFNZI/AAAAAAAAACw/DMcG-msuIGc/s1600-h/fixed+old+photos_0045.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 142px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SdB2aPJFNZI/AAAAAAAAACw/DMcG-msuIGc/s200/fixed+old+photos_0045.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318881353037854098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;wonder that I was never bitten by a snake.   Although the heat soared in the area during the summers, I seemed oblivious.   There was always the sprinkler to run through. I can remember that it was hot (often over 110 degrees), but I don't remember it ever knocking me down.   &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SdB7CEjZM0I/AAAAAAAAADQ/cqZXdQhOq2Q/s1600-h/fixed+old+photos_0040.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 178px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SdB7CEjZM0I/AAAAAAAAADQ/cqZXdQhOq2Q/s200/fixed+old+photos_0040.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318886435436704578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It was during the three years that we spent in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Barstow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; that I really began to fall in love with landscaping and waterfalls.     I know, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Barstow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; is in the middle of the desert, but it was what we did that became &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;ingrained&lt;/span&gt; in my mind.  My father and I worked all the time on the yard.  We built a small waterfall in the back yard and our lawn was green and luscious. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SdB7m-9tFMI/AAAAAAAAADg/MjQpgujG4q8/s1600-h/chev5001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 139px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SdB7m-9tFMI/AAAAAAAAADg/MjQpgujG4q8/s200/chev5001.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318887069591606466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  The rock we used on the waterfall was pumice/lava.  It was very sharp and I can remember that keeping fish in the pond for any length of time was an effort in futility.   The lava would cut the fish to shreds.  The place was in bloom year round.  My father also did the moonlighting thing during this time and I was almost always with him when he went on his jobs.    He usually drove "THE JOLLY GREEN GIANT".    The green giant was an old dodge or &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Chevy&lt;/span&gt; (mid 50's). &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SdB78MLNtNI/AAAAAAAAADo/YKupDDkWCTE/s1600-h/fixed+old+photos_0041.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 182px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SdB78MLNtNI/AAAAAAAAADo/YKupDDkWCTE/s200/fixed+old+photos_0041.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318887433915184338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  I still want a truck like that old heap.   Little did I know then that what I began to learn way back then would follow me forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In 1970 my younger brother was born, and my father got orders to go on recruiting duty.   He was assigned to Stamford, Connecticut.   So, we moved to a nearby town (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Westport&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, CT).   &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Westport&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; was a town full of many high-society types (Paul Newman, Linda Blair.....).   We lived in a modest three bedroom home owned by the government for people on special duties in the area.   It was a pretty area and I made friends rather quickly.  I shared a room with my little brother and my four sisters shared another room (poor girls - &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;LOL&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;).   The terrain was very different than what I had grown used to in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Barstow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, but I love it there.   My father didn't get to spend much time with us during this three-year tour.  Recruiting during &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Viet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Nam was not an easy task.  I did get to go to work with him from time to time and it always made me feel important.    Other than that, he was always really busy (something I never really understood or appreciated until I became a recruiter in the mid 80's).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can remember getting up on Saturday mornings, eating a bowl of cereal, and then taking off and not getting home until dinner.   What a different world it was back then.   I know that some of the dangers we face today existed back then, but not anywhere to the extent that they are today.  I would take off on my bike with a friend or two and we would head out to the local pond or creek and throw stones, fish, or just get downright messy.  I was a free spirit back then with no real responsibilities in the world (other than school).   I can remember the woods near the house where we lived.   The trees seemed huge (they probably weren't all that big, but to a little kid, everything was big).  My friends and I decided to build a tree house.   By the time we were through, we built a four-story monstrosity that we played in the whole time that I lived there.    I remember playing little league (and mostly sucking).   I think I made one awesome play the whole three years that I was in little league and it ended the championship game with us winning it all.   I was in boy scouts where I was awarded the "pyromaniac of the year" award.   I got this while we were playing a game of hide and seek at night.   My flashlight died and I couldn't see, so I ran to the fire and grabbed out a big burning log and ran and found the others.   In the process, I was dropping sparks behind me everywhere I went (setting the woods on fire).    I loved being in scouts, but it was hard because my father couldn't be there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the Spring of 73' my father began planning for his retirement from the Corps.   My Aunt &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Lol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, who lived in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Mena&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, AR called and told him that there was a large house with a Nursery that was on the market.   That was my fathers dream.   He knew that this was the direction he needed to go.   When I heard that we were moving to Arkansas, I was in heaven.   After all, every kid up North knows that Arkansas is nothing but hillbillies.   I thought I was going to be living with Jethro &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Bodine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.    I convinced myself that I would be smarter, stronger, and better than all the kids where I was going.   Boy, was I in for a rude awakening.    Anyway, because I knew that we were going to be going into the nursery business, I volunteered at a nursery that was a couple of blocks from where we lived. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SdB0Gr43x5I/AAAAAAAAACg/nv_-6M4jaCI/s1600-h/fixed+old+photos_0037.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 132px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SdB0Gr43x5I/AAAAAAAAACg/nv_-6M4jaCI/s200/fixed+old+photos_0037.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318878818133854098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  They were very happy to let me do the tasks that no one else in their life wanted to do.   I pulled weeds, watered plants, moved things from point A to point B.... and I did it all with a smile.   I loved it.  In June of 1973 we left Connecticut and set sail for Arkansas (My Mom, Dad, 4 sisters, myself, and my little brother, a cat, and a dog - all in one station wagon).    I'm sure that we looked like the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Beverly&lt;/span&gt; Hillbillies when we were driving into town.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Mena&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;....   That's another post for another day.   &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;G'nite&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Don't dive in the shallow end&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1311137249656177044-1036968222459883755?l=ongrayspond.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/feeds/1036968222459883755/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/2009/03/early-memories.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1311137249656177044/posts/default/1036968222459883755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1311137249656177044/posts/default/1036968222459883755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/2009/03/early-memories.html' title='Early Memories'/><author><name>On Gray's Pond - Walt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08543625317536100176</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/Sc2p3P6zPQI/AAAAAAAAAAM/o993ZC_ERjk/S220/08July2+072.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/SdBuLifn-YI/AAAAAAAAACA/DDGTn3OMMxA/s72-c/fixed+old+photos_0036.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1311137249656177044.post-1691143190500538707</id><published>2009-03-27T23:51:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T13:24:07.594-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Late Night</title><content type='html'>I am quite a bit of a night owl.  A trait which I seem to have passed on to my daughters (much to the dismay of their significant others).   When the weather isn't too bad, I like to leave the light on by my pond and just sit and watch the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;koi&lt;/span&gt;.   I like to free-write (just put down what pops into my head).    For the past few days I have been going crazy in my shed.  I have thrown or given away so much stuff that I don't need that it has really made the shed look great.  I should have it completely done by tomorrow.  After that I will have to decide whether to work more in the yard, or to go crazy in the greenhouse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am really looking forward to spending next weekend with Jamie and Joe in Canton, TX.  They get the honor of getting up at zero-dark-thirty on Friday morning and driving with me to Taylor, AR, to pick up a load of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;koi&lt;/span&gt; and then continuing on to Canton.   Once there they get to help me set up for a weekend of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;koi&lt;/span&gt; selling.   I don't have a clue how it will go, but I am really looking forward to being there anyway.   I may lose money doing it, but you never know until you try.    I am mainly doing it because I want others to get the same enjoyment out of it that I get.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;KOI&lt;/span&gt; ROCK.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess that in future posts, I will blog about my background and how I have gotten to the point that I have today.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dive on in, the water is great&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Don't dive in the shallow end&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1311137249656177044-1691143190500538707?l=ongrayspond.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/feeds/1691143190500538707/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/2009/03/late-night.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1311137249656177044/posts/default/1691143190500538707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1311137249656177044/posts/default/1691143190500538707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ongrayspond.blogspot.com/2009/03/late-night.html' title='Late Night'/><author><name>On Gray's Pond - Walt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08543625317536100176</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MYElSjFsBFs/Sc2p3P6zPQI/AAAAAAAAAAM/o993ZC_ERjk/S220/08July2+072.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
