I have lived here in Florida now for 8 years coming up in the end of January 2013, and previous to that I have lived my life in Connecticut, proud to be a native of that State. When I lived there I subcribed to the local paper: The Waterbury Republican. Now I also read the local paper here everyday, that is very simaliar...except for one exaggerated fact, and that is, with everyday I read about killing's & murder's, that seem to be the 'norm' here in Florida. But still I enjoy my paper regardless, since it does have some redeeming factor's, one of course is that it does'nt have the word 'Republican' in it's title...sorry..but seriously, I can for the most part read the whole thing from front to back and go away feeling somewhat fulfilled that I still have a local paper to enjoy. The other thing that I can expect at some point is when I run across an article about Connecticut, most of which are just those little blibs about some unimportant situation, but what ever it is it brings me back home for just a split-second to another time.
Now it's much different, the name of the State where I grew up and have so many happy memmories of places and friends, is now smothered in the New's about a horrific incident that is so far from my normal grasp of things, I just have a hard time getting around it, and with every mention of it, a tear will fall.
I can only hope that with time, those tears and fears will subside, and something good will come out of this...what, I have no idea, and at this point, doesn't seem like there would be anything! We can only hold on tight, and keep in touch with what we all deem a 'normal' World, perhaps then..'it can't happen here'...wouldn't happen at all..........
PEACE AND LOVE
Thursday, December 20, 2012
Saturday, November 24, 2012
...SO YOU THINK YOU'RE TIRED...!!
I know that most of you can get on edge for just about anything. But don't let it get you down, there's plenty of time to work things out. Therefore I'd like to add this little piece of the puzzle to your everyday life. It's another text written anonimously. Hopefully it will answer some of your problems, it goes like this:
Yes, I'm tired. For several years I've been blaming it on middle age, iron poor blood, lack of vitamins, air pollution, saccharin, obesity, dieting, under-arm order, yellow wax build-up, and a dozen other maladies that make you wonder if life is really worth living.
But now I find out, 'tain't that...
I'm tired because I'm overworked. The population to this country is 237 million. 104 million are retired. That leaves 133 million to do the work. There are 85 million in school, which leaves 48 million to do the work. Of this total, there are 29 million employed by the federal gavernment.
That leaves 19 million to do the work.
Four million are in the Armed Forces, which leaves 15 million to do the work. Take from that total the 14,800,000 people who work for the State and City Government and that leaves 200,000 to do the work. There are 188,000 in the Hospitals, so that leaves 12,000 to do the work.
Now there are 11,998 people in prisons. That leaves just two people to do the work. You and me. And you're sitting there reading this. No wonder I'm tired!
COULDN'T HAVE SAID IT BETTER MYSELF.......
And as you can tell, it was written more than a few years ago, but hey, it still applies...have a great day at Work...!!
Yes, I'm tired. For several years I've been blaming it on middle age, iron poor blood, lack of vitamins, air pollution, saccharin, obesity, dieting, under-arm order, yellow wax build-up, and a dozen other maladies that make you wonder if life is really worth living.
But now I find out, 'tain't that...
I'm tired because I'm overworked. The population to this country is 237 million. 104 million are retired. That leaves 133 million to do the work. There are 85 million in school, which leaves 48 million to do the work. Of this total, there are 29 million employed by the federal gavernment.
That leaves 19 million to do the work.
Four million are in the Armed Forces, which leaves 15 million to do the work. Take from that total the 14,800,000 people who work for the State and City Government and that leaves 200,000 to do the work. There are 188,000 in the Hospitals, so that leaves 12,000 to do the work.
Now there are 11,998 people in prisons. That leaves just two people to do the work. You and me. And you're sitting there reading this. No wonder I'm tired!
COULDN'T HAVE SAID IT BETTER MYSELF.......
And as you can tell, it was written more than a few years ago, but hey, it still applies...have a great day at Work...!!
Monday, November 12, 2012
DREAM CATCHER
The Folklore, told over and over, each time representing a unique truth... This particular story starts off not so long ago........
First the outer-most universe, with it's vast array of Galaxies, holding forth the Stars, Moon, Suns, and of course the Planets.
They say that a Meteroite struck hard on what is know now as Earth. It resounded so hard that it shook the neighboring Planets to form what we now know as our existing Solar System!
Created not too soon after, were living beings, made-up as they existed in their own enviroment: Birds flew high in the bright skies, warmed by the Sun; Fish swam freely in clean , Sun-baked waters; and peculiar animal beings roamed the vast land.
Life as we know it developed quickly, leaveing many lifeforms hanging in the balance...so delicate, many could not survive!
Those that did, had to be toughened to the ways of this hard and cruel balance: the birds flew higher and faster, the fish swam deeper and longer, the animals that now roam the Earth had to be stronger and smarter. Soon with every revolution of the Sun and the Earth, those animals that lasted, broke off into separate groups or Tribes. These Tribes began to numbeer in size; the larger they grew, the more they split-off and wandered the Earth.
The Tribes that split off, sought guidance through spritual beliefs, and those beliefs were taught by guides and traveled with and through-out these many Tribes. They were know as 'Deam-makers'. With their help and guidance, these Tribes were able to endure. But once the Dream-maker had fulfilled his duties, he had to move on to the next Tribe or calling.
With so many Tribes, he often left soon before fulfilling his duties. So while he traveled between Tribes, he spent time fashioning a type of net...that with his powers, could be left among the Tribes that he visited. This would give them something tangible to use, to filter the good and the bad that might enter their camps while they rested or slept. These fixtures that soon adorned the out side of all their dwellings, are now know as Dream Catchers.
The Dream Catchers hung in most of the doorways and open spaces, so that when the crisp night air moved through them, leaveing only the good Spirits behind, so that the next day and the next, and so on, would always bring to them a new and fresh start.
First the outer-most universe, with it's vast array of Galaxies, holding forth the Stars, Moon, Suns, and of course the Planets.
They say that a Meteroite struck hard on what is know now as Earth. It resounded so hard that it shook the neighboring Planets to form what we now know as our existing Solar System!
Created not too soon after, were living beings, made-up as they existed in their own enviroment: Birds flew high in the bright skies, warmed by the Sun; Fish swam freely in clean , Sun-baked waters; and peculiar animal beings roamed the vast land.
Life as we know it developed quickly, leaveing many lifeforms hanging in the balance...so delicate, many could not survive!
Those that did, had to be toughened to the ways of this hard and cruel balance: the birds flew higher and faster, the fish swam deeper and longer, the animals that now roam the Earth had to be stronger and smarter. Soon with every revolution of the Sun and the Earth, those animals that lasted, broke off into separate groups or Tribes. These Tribes began to numbeer in size; the larger they grew, the more they split-off and wandered the Earth.
The Tribes that split off, sought guidance through spritual beliefs, and those beliefs were taught by guides and traveled with and through-out these many Tribes. They were know as 'Deam-makers'. With their help and guidance, these Tribes were able to endure. But once the Dream-maker had fulfilled his duties, he had to move on to the next Tribe or calling.
With so many Tribes, he often left soon before fulfilling his duties. So while he traveled between Tribes, he spent time fashioning a type of net...that with his powers, could be left among the Tribes that he visited. This would give them something tangible to use, to filter the good and the bad that might enter their camps while they rested or slept. These fixtures that soon adorned the out side of all their dwellings, are now know as Dream Catchers.
The Dream Catchers hung in most of the doorways and open spaces, so that when the crisp night air moved through them, leaveing only the good Spirits behind, so that the next day and the next, and so on, would always bring to them a new and fresh start.
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
A FOLLOW-UP ON THE CONTRIBUTIONS IN THE VETERINARIANS FAMLY
I am summiting this as a follow-up to the writeings in the Warren Observer. This being one that was written by our favorite Veterinarian's wife, Nancy. It does brush upon polices pertaining to politics, so I fine it a timely contrabution at this time in our lives. And also with the title of "Clean Dirt" I just couldn't resist !
Democracy? Communication ? Or Administrative Foot Stamping ?
The root of a Democracy is communication....if an adminisrative government chooses not to communicate with the people it represents, what do you call it ? Whatever it is called, that's what Warren is.
Several people called me, as a member of the Inlands Wetlands Committee, to try to do something about the town's decision to dump, "clean dirt" onto an area that belongs to the Town. [ Possibly more to the people of the Town than to aq group of administrators " representing the people"?] Subsequently, I started a petition that would, in my mind, delay the project in order to have a Town Meeting to vote on whether the "clean dirt" should be dumped so closely to a lovely stream or on an alternate area. This alternate area, the Town said, was available. In fact, several were available, so they admitted.
Well, Ihave to apologize to the well-intentioned citizens of Warren. I omitted to put the words " to put to the vote at a Town Meeting" onto my petition. [I neglected to look up the proper wording to placeon the form.] "Our" Town administration said, with great glee, "You didn't put 'Town Meeting' on your document!" The fault was mine.
Needless to say, the vote to except or deny was in favor of deny. Mine was the only NO vote. Inland-wetlands, themselves, seem to have no friends except for Mother Nature. She can be pretty powerful. In fact she can show her disapproval of things we do in many strong ways. By our denying her world clean water, she can, in the end, deny us life.
The fact that the Town had already scarred the ares, or part of the area, they intend to dump on, without so much as a "by your leave" to a soul, may be a little dangerousw. In the future, is the Town, who has a blanket permission to fix roads and , in general , see that they are safe and properly drained, etc. going to gaily start on any project they think "The Family" wants? Are we, The People, not part of that FAMILY? And who decides what safe is?
Nancy T. Vreeland
Democracy? Communication ? Or Administrative Foot Stamping ?
The root of a Democracy is communication....if an adminisrative government chooses not to communicate with the people it represents, what do you call it ? Whatever it is called, that's what Warren is.
Several people called me, as a member of the Inlands Wetlands Committee, to try to do something about the town's decision to dump, "clean dirt" onto an area that belongs to the Town. [ Possibly more to the people of the Town than to aq group of administrators " representing the people"?] Subsequently, I started a petition that would, in my mind, delay the project in order to have a Town Meeting to vote on whether the "clean dirt" should be dumped so closely to a lovely stream or on an alternate area. This alternate area, the Town said, was available. In fact, several were available, so they admitted.
Well, Ihave to apologize to the well-intentioned citizens of Warren. I omitted to put the words " to put to the vote at a Town Meeting" onto my petition. [I neglected to look up the proper wording to placeon the form.] "Our" Town administration said, with great glee, "You didn't put 'Town Meeting' on your document!" The fault was mine.
Needless to say, the vote to except or deny was in favor of deny. Mine was the only NO vote. Inland-wetlands, themselves, seem to have no friends except for Mother Nature. She can be pretty powerful. In fact she can show her disapproval of things we do in many strong ways. By our denying her world clean water, she can, in the end, deny us life.
The fact that the Town had already scarred the ares, or part of the area, they intend to dump on, without so much as a "by your leave" to a soul, may be a little dangerousw. In the future, is the Town, who has a blanket permission to fix roads and , in general , see that they are safe and properly drained, etc. going to gaily start on any project they think "The Family" wants? Are we, The People, not part of that FAMILY? And who decides what safe is?
Nancy T. Vreeland
Friday, September 21, 2012
FIRST ENCOUNTER WITH A VETENARIAN
As most of you know , I've always been around animals, I'm talkin' about the four legged kind.......
Most of them being Dogs, and most of them big beautiful types , retrievers mostly. Although the first one that I could remember, when I was about as big as a retriever, the family Dog was a beagle. Since I was too young to remember much, I'll move on to the next one that was our family Dog. His name was Frisky. He was a Belgin Colley, which is the size of a Colley, and all the resemblence, except he was black & white instead of the common blonde, that most people are used to...i.e...Lassie.
Frisky lived up to his name...always running with us at the State Park where I grew up, on the Housatonic River, and where my father was a Ranger. My fathers duties as a Ranger, were to keep an eye on the commings and going in the Park, checking on the campers & keeping the grounds manacured. On a dailey basis he would leave the office that was somewhat near the house & turn up the road to the Camp grounds. At that point, Frisky would be alerted at his post in front of our house & make a bee line for the truck heading out of the driveway with my father driveing to the camps destination.
Frisky wouldn't have any part of that in which my father would leave without him, so he would make a mad dash, and start running after him. Never realing catching up to him until my father turned into the park entrance, about a quarter mile up the road from our house. This was pretty much the routine everyday, except when my father would let him ride along.
One day, as Frisky was getting on in his years, and not as limber, he broke his front leg while trying to run after Dad. We immediately call on our lacal Vet, Dr. Vreeland. At that time Doctors of all sorts made house calls. After examineing him, he took him to his office & put a cast on him.
Frisky, did not quite understand the full empact of his wound, & thought he could still run after the truck heading up the road. It took awhile to make a full recovery with Doc 'V' checking in every other day or so.
Doc V, was a tall and gentle man, given his size. He took care of all our animals with care & understanding that made an impact on all our lives, right up until he retired liveing with his second wife, Nancy & enventual pasted away , in the town where my family helped founded many, many years earlier & where Doc had found the way of true love in living with nature.
I will now rewrite some of the passages that Doc V wrote in the 'Daily Observer' of Warren Connecticut. They were titled: FLORA & FAUNA
'Walking a ridge west of the Housatonic in the first hours of the morning today, I was struck by the silence this time of year. The only sound heard was the strong, slowly measured, threatening call of a Pileated Woodpecker as he warned me away from his 'parish'. No othersongs or snorts or frog clicks and my dogs seemed to listen 'for' something rather than 'to' something, as we strolled among looming cliffs, powerful mature hardwoods, and massive pines. The the forest seemed ruled by the mosses, ferns, and fungi like Indian Pipes, mushrooms, and bracket fungus that, with there fellow trees, beame the "floa era" while the "fauna" lay quiet.
For the first week in September, the pond behind Tranquil House contained three Great Egrets all from the south. They appeared to be walking on the lily pads and seemed to be successful in hunting food. These are also the size of the nurmerous Great Blues so common in most locales, but are brillantwhite. Cattle Egrets are common in the deep south and two years ago a snowy was paired with a Greater and spent a few weeks on our river. The Snowy was a great deal smaller and he and his friend had obviously partnered up...a common move when in strange country.
Curiosity led me to find out that the damage you are seeing now to some Maples is due to an insect called a "Peach Thrip." Thrip are tiny insect...sometimes 0.5mm....are black, and parastize....mites and aphids.....but in this case suck dry the Maple leaves.
In the same camp are the Tent Caterpillars who live in common condos and fill up on foliage until Fall when they go solo and make separate cocoons, winter over, and arise as brown moths in spring to repeat the performance. I mention this because the tents are so obvious now.
Parasites follow times of plenty...caution with market dealings these days!
Amid islands necklaced with granite and crowned with dark spruce, Nancy and I spent a few days on Deer Island by Penobscot bay near Bucksport Maine. There seemed to be the only water-room for lobster boats, some sailing craft, plus the immaculate beauty of the coast itself. We were re-acquainted with loons and eagles and then went to outer Cape Cod where I caught still another great fish, wasbiked and hiked to enervation, and bitten by a seagull , I was releasing from a tangle in fishing line.....then we all do that ...right..?!
If you get a chance to sit, walk, or just sit on the National Seashore at daybreack, don't miss it! The low- angled sun shines on the breasts of hovering terns and gulls and vbeneath the crests of breaking waves. You will feel closer to your origins than ever!!'
EWVreeland 9/20/98
As you can see , this brought many memories back with the mention of so many places and things, not only in my life , but I'm sure touched many of your's too..!
Most of them being Dogs, and most of them big beautiful types , retrievers mostly. Although the first one that I could remember, when I was about as big as a retriever, the family Dog was a beagle. Since I was too young to remember much, I'll move on to the next one that was our family Dog. His name was Frisky. He was a Belgin Colley, which is the size of a Colley, and all the resemblence, except he was black & white instead of the common blonde, that most people are used to...i.e...Lassie.
Frisky lived up to his name...always running with us at the State Park where I grew up, on the Housatonic River, and where my father was a Ranger. My fathers duties as a Ranger, were to keep an eye on the commings and going in the Park, checking on the campers & keeping the grounds manacured. On a dailey basis he would leave the office that was somewhat near the house & turn up the road to the Camp grounds. At that point, Frisky would be alerted at his post in front of our house & make a bee line for the truck heading out of the driveway with my father driveing to the camps destination.
Frisky wouldn't have any part of that in which my father would leave without him, so he would make a mad dash, and start running after him. Never realing catching up to him until my father turned into the park entrance, about a quarter mile up the road from our house. This was pretty much the routine everyday, except when my father would let him ride along.
One day, as Frisky was getting on in his years, and not as limber, he broke his front leg while trying to run after Dad. We immediately call on our lacal Vet, Dr. Vreeland. At that time Doctors of all sorts made house calls. After examineing him, he took him to his office & put a cast on him.
Frisky, did not quite understand the full empact of his wound, & thought he could still run after the truck heading up the road. It took awhile to make a full recovery with Doc 'V' checking in every other day or so.
Doc V, was a tall and gentle man, given his size. He took care of all our animals with care & understanding that made an impact on all our lives, right up until he retired liveing with his second wife, Nancy & enventual pasted away , in the town where my family helped founded many, many years earlier & where Doc had found the way of true love in living with nature.
I will now rewrite some of the passages that Doc V wrote in the 'Daily Observer' of Warren Connecticut. They were titled: FLORA & FAUNA
'Walking a ridge west of the Housatonic in the first hours of the morning today, I was struck by the silence this time of year. The only sound heard was the strong, slowly measured, threatening call of a Pileated Woodpecker as he warned me away from his 'parish'. No othersongs or snorts or frog clicks and my dogs seemed to listen 'for' something rather than 'to' something, as we strolled among looming cliffs, powerful mature hardwoods, and massive pines. The the forest seemed ruled by the mosses, ferns, and fungi like Indian Pipes, mushrooms, and bracket fungus that, with there fellow trees, beame the "floa era" while the "fauna" lay quiet.
For the first week in September, the pond behind Tranquil House contained three Great Egrets all from the south. They appeared to be walking on the lily pads and seemed to be successful in hunting food. These are also the size of the nurmerous Great Blues so common in most locales, but are brillantwhite. Cattle Egrets are common in the deep south and two years ago a snowy was paired with a Greater and spent a few weeks on our river. The Snowy was a great deal smaller and he and his friend had obviously partnered up...a common move when in strange country.
Curiosity led me to find out that the damage you are seeing now to some Maples is due to an insect called a "Peach Thrip." Thrip are tiny insect...sometimes 0.5mm....are black, and parastize....mites and aphids.....but in this case suck dry the Maple leaves.
In the same camp are the Tent Caterpillars who live in common condos and fill up on foliage until Fall when they go solo and make separate cocoons, winter over, and arise as brown moths in spring to repeat the performance. I mention this because the tents are so obvious now.
Parasites follow times of plenty...caution with market dealings these days!
Amid islands necklaced with granite and crowned with dark spruce, Nancy and I spent a few days on Deer Island by Penobscot bay near Bucksport Maine. There seemed to be the only water-room for lobster boats, some sailing craft, plus the immaculate beauty of the coast itself. We were re-acquainted with loons and eagles and then went to outer Cape Cod where I caught still another great fish, wasbiked and hiked to enervation, and bitten by a seagull , I was releasing from a tangle in fishing line.....then we all do that ...right..?!
If you get a chance to sit, walk, or just sit on the National Seashore at daybreack, don't miss it! The low- angled sun shines on the breasts of hovering terns and gulls and vbeneath the crests of breaking waves. You will feel closer to your origins than ever!!'
EWVreeland 9/20/98
As you can see , this brought many memories back with the mention of so many places and things, not only in my life , but I'm sure touched many of your's too..!
Friday, September 14, 2012
TROUBLES, INCORPORATED......
.....'.and you think you have troubles....Possum Gulch, Arkansas Route #1.......
The Bakersfield Company...St. Louis, Missouri
Once again, I'm takeing this from another article that I found in massive amout of articles & paperwork that I retrieved from my trip to Connecticut.......
Gentleman:
I just recieved your superheated letter in regards to the bill I owe you. You thought it could have been paid a mlong time ago and you couldn't understand why it wasn't. Well I will enlighten you.
In 1937, I bought a sawmill on credit, in 1938, an Ox team and timber,a car,two Ponies, a breach loading shotgun, a wine tester and a $25 Colt revolver. Also two fine razor back hogs....all on the damn enstallment plan. In 1939 the mill burnt down and didn't leave a damn thing. One of the ponies died andI loaned the other to a son-of-a-bitch who staved it to death and then I joined the church. In 1940 my father died and my brother was lynched for horse stealing. A railroader knocked-up my daughter and I had to pay $88 to a doctorto keep the little bastard frombecolming a relative of mine. In 1941 my boys got the mumps and they went fishing and the boat turned over and lost the biggest Catfish I ever saw...two of my boys drowned...neither being the one that was castrated. In 1945 my wife ranaway with a no-good butcher and and left me with a pair of twinsas a souvenir.
Then I married the hired girl to keep down expenses, but I had trouble getting her to go off. I went to a doctor and he advised me to create some kind of excitement about the time she was ready.That night I took the shotgun to bed with me and when i thought she was ready, I stuck the gun out the window and fired. My wife shit the bed, I ruptured myself and shot the best cow I ever owned.
In 1947 I burned out...then I took to drinking. I didn't stop until all I had left was a Waterbury watch and Kidney trouble. Then for sometime all I did was wind my watch and run to piss.
The next year I decided to try again, so I bought a manure spreader, Deering binder and a threshing machine, all on credit and then came a cyclone and blew everything into the next county. My wife caught the clap from the traveling salesman, my boy wiped his ass on a corn cob that had rat poison on it and some bastard nutted my best bull.
Now, at the present time, if it cost a nickel to shit, I'd have to vomit, yet you saym you can cause me trouble.
Trying to get money out of me would be like tring to poke butter up a wildcat's ass with a hot poker, but mister you sure are welcome to try!
Very truly yours, anyone who has been on the bitter end of a collection agency..!
The Bakersfield Company...St. Louis, Missouri
Once again, I'm takeing this from another article that I found in massive amout of articles & paperwork that I retrieved from my trip to Connecticut.......
Gentleman:
I just recieved your superheated letter in regards to the bill I owe you. You thought it could have been paid a mlong time ago and you couldn't understand why it wasn't. Well I will enlighten you.
In 1937, I bought a sawmill on credit, in 1938, an Ox team and timber,a car,two Ponies, a breach loading shotgun, a wine tester and a $25 Colt revolver. Also two fine razor back hogs....all on the damn enstallment plan. In 1939 the mill burnt down and didn't leave a damn thing. One of the ponies died andI loaned the other to a son-of-a-bitch who staved it to death and then I joined the church. In 1940 my father died and my brother was lynched for horse stealing. A railroader knocked-up my daughter and I had to pay $88 to a doctorto keep the little bastard frombecolming a relative of mine. In 1941 my boys got the mumps and they went fishing and the boat turned over and lost the biggest Catfish I ever saw...two of my boys drowned...neither being the one that was castrated. In 1945 my wife ranaway with a no-good butcher and and left me with a pair of twinsas a souvenir.
Then I married the hired girl to keep down expenses, but I had trouble getting her to go off. I went to a doctor and he advised me to create some kind of excitement about the time she was ready.That night I took the shotgun to bed with me and when i thought she was ready, I stuck the gun out the window and fired. My wife shit the bed, I ruptured myself and shot the best cow I ever owned.
In 1947 I burned out...then I took to drinking. I didn't stop until all I had left was a Waterbury watch and Kidney trouble. Then for sometime all I did was wind my watch and run to piss.
The next year I decided to try again, so I bought a manure spreader, Deering binder and a threshing machine, all on credit and then came a cyclone and blew everything into the next county. My wife caught the clap from the traveling salesman, my boy wiped his ass on a corn cob that had rat poison on it and some bastard nutted my best bull.
Now, at the present time, if it cost a nickel to shit, I'd have to vomit, yet you saym you can cause me trouble.
Trying to get money out of me would be like tring to poke butter up a wildcat's ass with a hot poker, but mister you sure are welcome to try!
Very truly yours, anyone who has been on the bitter end of a collection agency..!
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
O.K. ...here's another quick one before I go...this is from the Bennington Banner in Vermont, September 26, 1970.....
White Man Crazy
A deserted farmhouse in a gulled field waws pictured in a farm Journal which offered a prize for the best 100-word description. An Indian took the prize with this entry:
' Picture show white man crazy. Cut down trees. Make big tipi. Plow hill. Water wash. Wind blow soil. Grass gone. Door gone. Window gone. Whole place gone. Buck gone, Squaw gone. Papoose too. No chuck-away. no pigs. No corn. No plow. No hay. No pony. Indian no plow land.
Great Spirit makes grass. Keep grass. Buffalo eat grass. Indian eat Buffalo. Hide make tipi; make moccasin. Indian no make terrace. All time eat. No hunt job. No hitch hike. No ask relief. No shoot pig. No build dam. No give dam. Indian waste nothing. Indian no work.
White man Crazy.'
White Man Crazy
A deserted farmhouse in a gulled field waws pictured in a farm Journal which offered a prize for the best 100-word description. An Indian took the prize with this entry:
' Picture show white man crazy. Cut down trees. Make big tipi. Plow hill. Water wash. Wind blow soil. Grass gone. Door gone. Window gone. Whole place gone. Buck gone, Squaw gone. Papoose too. No chuck-away. no pigs. No corn. No plow. No hay. No pony. Indian no plow land.
Great Spirit makes grass. Keep grass. Buffalo eat grass. Indian eat Buffalo. Hide make tipi; make moccasin. Indian no make terrace. All time eat. No hunt job. No hitch hike. No ask relief. No shoot pig. No build dam. No give dam. Indian waste nothing. Indian no work.
White man Crazy.'
'Sex is a Man's Best Friend'
As most of you know I just recently got back from my trip up North to Connecticut, where I successfully retrieved the rest of my belongings that I had left behind when I ventured south to my new life in Florida. Some of that has already been posted on my older blogs. Anyone that would like to conjur them up, would just have to scroll to the end of the page , where it say's:' 'old posts' or 'new posts'. I thought I'd introduce some new one's on a lighter note that were written by another author, of whom will remain anonomus.
Most all of you know my relationship with the numerous dogs I've had in my life. Now at this point in my life, I understand the fact that it will be no more to haveing a Dog, or any other animal for that fact, since I will be more content meeting people who have their own pets, that I find along the way in my new travels in life. Therefore I thought that I'd start off with this story that I recently found in my belongings, that I will be shareing, along with others, includeing more from 'Auntie'.
It goes like this......
Everybody who has a Dog calls his 'Rover' or 'Boy'. I call mine 'Sex'. Now, Sex has been very embarrassing to me. When I went to City Hall to renew my Dog licence, I told the clerk I would like tom have a licence for Sex. He said, 'I'd like to have one too'. Then I said 'But this is a Dog'. He said he didn't carewhqat she looked like. Then I said, 'you don't understand; I've had Sex since I was 9 yrs. old.' He said, 'You must have been quite a kid'.
When I decided to get married, I told the minister that I wanted to have Sex at the wedding. He told me to wait until after the wedding. I said, 'But Sex has played a big part in my life, and my whole lifestyle revolves around Sex.' He said he didn't want to hear about my personal life and would not marry us in his church. I tolkd him that everyone coming to the wedding would enjoy haveing Sex there. The next day we were married by a justice of the peace. My family is barred from the church.
My wife and I took the Dog along with us on the honeymoon. When I checked into the motel, I told the clerk that I wanted a room for me & my wife and a separate room for Sex. The clerk said that every room in the motel was for Sex. Then I said, 'You don't understand, sex keeps me up all night'. He said, 'Me too.'
One day I entered Sex in a contest but before the competition began, the Dog ran away. Another contestant asked me why I was just standing there looking around. I told him I had to hve Sex in the contest. He told me I should have sold my own tickets. ' But you don't understand', I said, 'I had hoped to have Sex on T.V.' He called me a showoff.
Last night Sex ran off again. I spent hours looking around town for him. A cop came to me and asked me 'What are you doing in this alley at 4:00 in the morning?' I said, 'I was looking for Sex.' My case comes up in the court on Thursday.
When my wife and I separated , we went to court to fight for the custody of the Dog. I said ' Your honor, I had Sex before I was married'. The Judge said,' Me too'. Then I told him that after I was married Sex left me. He said, 'Me too.'
Well now, I've been embarrassed , been married, been divorced and had more damn trouble with that Dog that I ever gambled for. Just the other day I went for my first session with the psychiatrist, and she asked me, 'What seems to be trouble?' I replied, 'Hell, Sex has died and left my life. It's like losing my best friend and it's so lonely'. The doctor said, 'look, mister, you and I both know that Sex isn't man's best friend, so get yourself a Dog.'
Now you should know by now that this story hasn't helped me one bit, since I'm not about to get another Dog, and I'll be damned as when I'll have Sex again...!!
Most all of you know my relationship with the numerous dogs I've had in my life. Now at this point in my life, I understand the fact that it will be no more to haveing a Dog, or any other animal for that fact, since I will be more content meeting people who have their own pets, that I find along the way in my new travels in life. Therefore I thought that I'd start off with this story that I recently found in my belongings, that I will be shareing, along with others, includeing more from 'Auntie'.
It goes like this......
Everybody who has a Dog calls his 'Rover' or 'Boy'. I call mine 'Sex'. Now, Sex has been very embarrassing to me. When I went to City Hall to renew my Dog licence, I told the clerk I would like tom have a licence for Sex. He said, 'I'd like to have one too'. Then I said 'But this is a Dog'. He said he didn't carewhqat she looked like. Then I said, 'you don't understand; I've had Sex since I was 9 yrs. old.' He said, 'You must have been quite a kid'.
When I decided to get married, I told the minister that I wanted to have Sex at the wedding. He told me to wait until after the wedding. I said, 'But Sex has played a big part in my life, and my whole lifestyle revolves around Sex.' He said he didn't want to hear about my personal life and would not marry us in his church. I tolkd him that everyone coming to the wedding would enjoy haveing Sex there. The next day we were married by a justice of the peace. My family is barred from the church.
My wife and I took the Dog along with us on the honeymoon. When I checked into the motel, I told the clerk that I wanted a room for me & my wife and a separate room for Sex. The clerk said that every room in the motel was for Sex. Then I said, 'You don't understand, sex keeps me up all night'. He said, 'Me too.'
One day I entered Sex in a contest but before the competition began, the Dog ran away. Another contestant asked me why I was just standing there looking around. I told him I had to hve Sex in the contest. He told me I should have sold my own tickets. ' But you don't understand', I said, 'I had hoped to have Sex on T.V.' He called me a showoff.
Last night Sex ran off again. I spent hours looking around town for him. A cop came to me and asked me 'What are you doing in this alley at 4:00 in the morning?' I said, 'I was looking for Sex.' My case comes up in the court on Thursday.
When my wife and I separated , we went to court to fight for the custody of the Dog. I said ' Your honor, I had Sex before I was married'. The Judge said,' Me too'. Then I told him that after I was married Sex left me. He said, 'Me too.'
Well now, I've been embarrassed , been married, been divorced and had more damn trouble with that Dog that I ever gambled for. Just the other day I went for my first session with the psychiatrist, and she asked me, 'What seems to be trouble?' I replied, 'Hell, Sex has died and left my life. It's like losing my best friend and it's so lonely'. The doctor said, 'look, mister, you and I both know that Sex isn't man's best friend, so get yourself a Dog.'
Now you should know by now that this story hasn't helped me one bit, since I'm not about to get another Dog, and I'll be damned as when I'll have Sex again...!!
Sunday, February 26, 2012
AUNT CONNIE & DIRT ROADS....WHERE THE TRUE MEANING OF 'DOWN TO EARTH' ARE SYNONYMOUS!
I found another writing of my Aunt Connie, that I would like to share, & that alot of you will find farmiliar......
She writes on September 6th 2003 :
On my way to a store in Bantam , I decided to take the scenic route , so I went by LaGrotta's rd. On the crest of the hill and looking to the right was the most beautiful view of rolling hills, one could almost visualize being in the Smokey Mt. or the Blue Ridge Mt. of Virginia. Nearer the road were brown Swiss cows feeding in the pasture. Half a mile further I came to Couch Rd. and as that is my old stomping grounds, decided to see what had changed. I met two boys about the age of 11 , one of them knew me and asking the other boy his name , realized that I knew his parents. I told them that all the land on the right useed to be a pasture for our cows and that I lived on the farm where the red barns are and that the roads were all DIRT ROADS. One boy said he wished he had lived then....what, no computers?....
The first change on that road , it is macaadamized much of the way , other changes were beautiful houses , set back in the woods for privacy . So many new houses and all on the land where we had our cows and horses...bringing back memories of the many times I went with my brothers to get the cows or get them to the pastures in the morning .
My happiest memories are when I had my black pony and on a Satuday afternoon I would ride up to Jack Corner Rd. to Rabbit Hill Rd. and down Tanner Hill, up Break Neck Rd. past Above All , where I was born, then going down the West Rd. .... which no longer exist....and comming out on Reed Rd. I would go on to Uncle Perry's and Aunt Min where I knew I would get something good to eat , such as a piece of pie or a delicious cake , just baked that morning and a cup of tea with sugar and milk .
By that time it was getting late in the day , so I mounted the pony and stopped at the watering trough to let her have a drink . Then up over Sackett Hill ...no other road then...down around the hairpin curve and back to 341 past Tannners Farm to the end of Jack Corners Rd. and down Couch Rd. to home and always managed to be home at supper time. In all that rideing I seldom met a car......the roads were all dirt , and were not hard topped until several years later.
Such a beautiful day it has been and I did get my groceries and in time to see the Red Sox beat the be-jabbers out of the Yankees!
I hope to find more of my Aunties' stories , so that we all can go back to a time that was alittle more slower and peaceful. My Aunt died a few months before her 94th birthday on May 11th .
There's no road named after her or my family, like the ones so familiar that she mentioned but I hope the next time you travel down a DIRT ROAD you'll think of her , and how much my family ment to the region......
She writes on September 6th 2003 :
On my way to a store in Bantam , I decided to take the scenic route , so I went by LaGrotta's rd. On the crest of the hill and looking to the right was the most beautiful view of rolling hills, one could almost visualize being in the Smokey Mt. or the Blue Ridge Mt. of Virginia. Nearer the road were brown Swiss cows feeding in the pasture. Half a mile further I came to Couch Rd. and as that is my old stomping grounds, decided to see what had changed. I met two boys about the age of 11 , one of them knew me and asking the other boy his name , realized that I knew his parents. I told them that all the land on the right useed to be a pasture for our cows and that I lived on the farm where the red barns are and that the roads were all DIRT ROADS. One boy said he wished he had lived then....what, no computers?....
The first change on that road , it is macaadamized much of the way , other changes were beautiful houses , set back in the woods for privacy . So many new houses and all on the land where we had our cows and horses...bringing back memories of the many times I went with my brothers to get the cows or get them to the pastures in the morning .
My happiest memories are when I had my black pony and on a Satuday afternoon I would ride up to Jack Corner Rd. to Rabbit Hill Rd. and down Tanner Hill, up Break Neck Rd. past Above All , where I was born, then going down the West Rd. .... which no longer exist....and comming out on Reed Rd. I would go on to Uncle Perry's and Aunt Min where I knew I would get something good to eat , such as a piece of pie or a delicious cake , just baked that morning and a cup of tea with sugar and milk .
By that time it was getting late in the day , so I mounted the pony and stopped at the watering trough to let her have a drink . Then up over Sackett Hill ...no other road then...down around the hairpin curve and back to 341 past Tannners Farm to the end of Jack Corners Rd. and down Couch Rd. to home and always managed to be home at supper time. In all that rideing I seldom met a car......the roads were all dirt , and were not hard topped until several years later.
Such a beautiful day it has been and I did get my groceries and in time to see the Red Sox beat the be-jabbers out of the Yankees!
I hope to find more of my Aunties' stories , so that we all can go back to a time that was alittle more slower and peaceful. My Aunt died a few months before her 94th birthday on May 11th .
There's no road named after her or my family, like the ones so familiar that she mentioned but I hope the next time you travel down a DIRT ROAD you'll think of her , and how much my family ment to the region......
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