tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-82401896389083382692024-02-20T06:57:44.000-06:00TIN STAR RANCH HANDPlain and simple ramblin' from an ole country boy concerning personal history, current family events, the Tin Star Ranch, and philosophical BS with no redeeming social value implied or intended.TSRHhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15811377034968498707noreply@blogger.comBlogger533125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8240189638908338269.post-45663678958056800422014-01-06T11:45:00.000-06:002014-01-06T11:45:05.235-06:00GRANDPARENTSThe ole ranch hand has studied of late on memories from his grandparents place in Wright City.<br />
<br />
Sitting on their front porch swing (or concrete porch steps) is a warm/fuzzy thought.<br />
<br />
Sitting behind their house in the shade visiting or shelling peas or cooking bar-b-que or whatever is an experience I would love to repeat.<br />
<br />
Walking down to Uncle Charlie's pond (next door) to angle for channel catfish or down to Uncle Reggie's pond in the back pasture to catch perch....priceless time for a young'un.<br />
<br />
Thinking bout putting hay in Grandaddy's barn loft (he wouldn't allow doing it the easy way on the first floor of the barn....had to throw those 60-70 pound bales up in the loft from the unsteady footing of the hay trailer?)<br />
<br />
Remembering helping G-daddy build a corral by the barn out of green oak lumber (that a lumberjack could not drive a nail thru)....the ranch hand could not for the life of him drive those nails without bending them so guess who had their hammer "retired"?<br />
<br />
Going thru a barbed wire gate G-daddy built was a fine trial in strength and patience....he thought they were not functional unless as tight as a "fiddle"...and that made it a challenge to open for sure (and he would whip your butt if you left it "open").<br />
<br />
Remembering them planting a few pecan trees beside their house and thinking even I would not see them bear fruit....and watching them pick carpets of pecans from the ground in short order.<br />
<br />
Their incredibly productive garden, fat cows, pen raised quail, and G-mother's cooking was legendary.<br />
<br />
.....and remembering that on the day of my mother's funeral my sweet sainted grandmother telling me that from that day forward she would be my mother....and loving her more that day that I could ever explain.<br />
<br />
Damn I was lucky to have them.....<br />
<br />
TSRHhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15811377034968498707noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8240189638908338269.post-17358974451889685952013-12-21T09:38:00.000-06:002013-12-21T09:38:05.689-06:00Christmas elves and other such folkThe stress of the holidays triggers sadness and depression for many people. <br />
<br />
This time of year is especially difficult because there’s an expectation of feeling merry and generous. People compare their emotions to what they assume others are experiencing or what they’re supposed to feel. <br />
<br />
Then they think that they alone fall short. They judge themselves and feel like an outsider.<br />
<br />
The ole ranch hand had this unfortunate phenomenon for as long as memory serves. No reason, no explanation, no solution.<br />
<br />
Then he married the original SPIRIT OF CHRISTMAS.<br />
<br />
This gal can out-Christmas anything ever and will not let anyone or anything stand in her way....How ya gonna be "blue" under that kinda pressure?<br />
<br />
Been feelin' pretty darn Christmas-y lately and gotta give credit where credit is due....the CHRISTMAS ELF/WIFE DONE DONE HER THANG!<br />
TSRHhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15811377034968498707noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8240189638908338269.post-3625198117789635912013-06-13T18:24:00.004-05:002013-06-13T20:59:07.556-05:00The Indoor Picture ShowWhen the ranch hand was knee high to a Shetland, "going to the picture show" referred to the drive-in theatre in Turnertown.<br />
<br />
We would go in the pickup, back it into a space, and Mom/Dad would sit in chairs in the bed of the truck while us young'uns would park wherever. Mom would bring a brown paper sack of home made popcorn and life was good.<br />
<br />
Another, more rare, movie experience was available in Overton (the "indoor" picture show").<br />
<br />
The Overton Theater opened in July 1938 and continued operation until 1965. For the price of a quarter, a Wright City farm boy could ease into a dark place of air conditioned comfort, sit in fancy cloth covered seats (with years of chewing gum plastered on the seat bottoms), and get lost in the adventures of Hollywood heroes.<br />
<br />
Never mind that no one had money for refreshments from the snack bar (although we knew someone bought "cokes" because the floor was so sticky?).<br />
<br />
Never mind that ya missed half the show when it was "scary" (The Blob, The Incredible Shrinking Man, etc.) due to having one's eyes closed. It was pure magic.<br />
<br />
Scroll forward to modern times and the ole fat boy and his beautiful child bride decided to saunter to "town" to enjoy yet another "indoor picture show".<br />
<br />
Smug with confidence and sufficient finances, the would-be film star splurged on two "cokes" for nostalgic pleasure. Hauled them puppies to our plush reclining ergonomic seats and settled in with our fellow viewers to wait for the "magic" to begin.<br />
<br />
The lights dimmed, the theater became hushed, and the sophisticated cinema fan promptly dumped the entire contents of his ICE COLD drink into his lap.<br />
<br />
Now imagine the difficulty of maintaining one's dignity while jumping up and down between rows of seats in a crowded theater while furiously slapping and brushing at one's "nether regions" and yelling, "SH*T", in high decibels. <br />
<br />
Further imagine the look of confusion mixed with consternation on the face of the adjacent bride (not to mention the fellow theatre patrons).<br />
<br />
Maybe the Lord was just taking care of that young farm boy in Overton by withholding the "cokes" to spare the fragile innocence of his youth?TSRHhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15811377034968498707noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8240189638908338269.post-76216197518050369552013-04-27T15:19:00.002-05:002013-04-27T15:21:31.863-05:00Rattlesnake WireBarbed wire...or "bob woir", as it is pronounced in East Texas...has served the southwest well since it was first patented in 1867. As a relatively inexpensive method to pen cattle onto a chosen range, it took cows out of the driver's seat and allowed ranchers to control their movement (and stop "free grazing" by traveling herds).<br />
<br />
The Tin Star is surrounded by a similar steel accoutrement. Four thousand feet of prickly loveliness that is singular in its willingness to "bite"!<br />
<br />
Deer jump the top strand and wind it around the next strand down. Unwind that bow fiddle tight puppy and lose some hide and blood (ask me how I know)?<br />
<br />
Tighten sagging stretches of the saber toothed one, let your tool of choice slip...and yep...more personal tissue/sinew/plasma sacrificed to the "god" of the bovine calaboose?<br />
<br />
When the Hebrew tribes gave up their nomadic life and settled in Palestine in agricultural communities, the most important matter was the fixing of definite boundary-lines to separate the lands of the different tribes and of the families within the tribes. The importance of this is sufficiently shown in the Book of Joshua, where a careful record is made of the boundaries of the tribes and their families. No mention is made of "bob woir"...just "boundary markers".<br />
<br />
However, Ecclesiastes 10:8 tells us that serpents delight to lurk in the crevices of such fences?<br />
<br />
Given the ole ranch hand's number of scars, blood loss, and ripped clothes....it would be a tuff sell to convince him that dang demon fence ain't part rattlesnake!TSRHhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15811377034968498707noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8240189638908338269.post-44106638688406703342013-04-23T19:23:00.001-05:002013-04-23T19:24:38.662-05:00Retired LifeRejoice, O young man, in thy youth; and let thy heart cheer thee in the days of thy youth, and walk in the ways of thine heart, and in the sight of thine eyes. (Ecclesiastes 11:9)<br />
<br />
The ole fat boy and his child bride ventured to the land o' the gator this past week in Orlando, Florida to "experience" DISNEYWORLD, UNIVERSAL STUDIOS, and the KENNEDY SPACE CENTER.<br />
<br />
Think bout walkin' from can till can't....humidity....an "wall to wall" people round ya?<br />
<br />
LOVED IT!<br />
<br />
Rode them "rides"....saw the "sights"...and ate/drank the good stuff in the theme parks and beyond.<br />
<br />
Retired life is better'n good...it is GREAT for old folks what got the health and mobility to enjoy it to the max!!!<br />
<br />
LIFE IS GOOD!!!!!!!!!!!TSRHhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15811377034968498707noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8240189638908338269.post-46398236047883632392013-04-07T15:40:00.004-05:002013-04-07T15:49:15.646-05:00The TraitorThe ole fat boy and his gorgeous child bride sashayed into "town" this morn to allow the little woman to shop for shoes (Hell....anyone with near half a brain would know that 49,000 pair of shoes ain't near enuff for a ranch lady with only TWELVE (long) shelves full of shoes in her closet already?????)<br />
<br />
Got that "mission of podiatry mercy" done and then decided to stop at the sis/law's house to see the young nephew/niece and have a bit of country "gab".<br />
<br />
Bein' country rural....the ranch hand left the keys in the SUV (along with the wife's purse/keys)....<br />
<br />
Got near half way up to the porch and heard "CLICK"????<br />
<br />
Damn traitor vehicle LOCKED its ownself (just for spite I reckon??)<br />
<br />
Spent the next hour going back and forth between the "traitor" and the barn/workshop gitten tools and "making" tools to unlock that BAST*RD and not do damage???<br />
<br />
SUCCESS....got the door "unlocked".....and the damn horn started beeping such as Saint Gabriel would'a been proud!<br />
<br />
Finally figgered out the combination to silence that abomination....and then found the eee-lec-tronic computer crap would not allow the car to be started...Next chance I get, gonna kick a computer nerd in the n*ts just for the sheer joy of it??<br />
<br />
Is it only my old butt generation...or was life simpler when "computer chips" were not involved????TSRHhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15811377034968498707noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8240189638908338269.post-33514914452730176152013-04-06T09:14:00.002-05:002013-04-06T09:14:33.844-05:00Thanks to Ms. EvaMs. Eva creates a marvelously entertaining blog: http://www.wrestlingwithretirement.com/<br />
<br />
It is light hearted...entertaining...and "irreverent" to the point of "giggle"!<br />
<br />
A recent jewel concerned TGIF ("Thank God it is Friday") and the totally irrelevant perspective of that phrase for retired folk?<br />
<br />
The ole fat ranch hand and his child bride have multiple conversations bout....what day is this???....what day of the month??...hell...what month is this??<br />
<br />
Such awesome bliss...To not care what "time" has to offer....To just enjoy the day...Whatever "day" it is???...is double OK!<br />
<br />
Thank you Ms. Eva for reminding an ole retiree bout the "good" stuff of not fighting the "job" sh*t ever day....!!!!TSRHhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15811377034968498707noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8240189638908338269.post-71182924489772881882013-03-18T16:52:00.002-05:002013-03-18T16:52:21.203-05:00SisyphusKing Sisyphus existed in Greek mythology.<br />
<br />
According to legend.....this gent was quite the rascal and the "gods" therefore sentenced him to roll a huge boulder up a steep hill. Before he could reach the top, however, the massive stone would always roll back down, forcing him to begin again. The maddening nature of the punishment was to be an example for those lacking in tolerance and patience, no doubt?<br />
<br />
This day, the ole fat boy and his child bride ventured to the "Greek" mythological land of "Joe's Crab Shack" and feasted therein on....well...crab.<br />
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Interesting adventure. First they bring ya "tools"....Oh hell yeah...what manly man would not want "tools"?<br />
<br />
Then they brought a humongous "bib"??? OK...was there gonna be a hawg guttin'....or what????<br />
<br />
Then the cretins of sick humor bring out a gigantic TUB of boiled/spiced crab and say with a lecherous smile, "All yall dig in"? <br />
<br />
Well duh....They give ya got hammers, picks, pliers, and more "tools" than a New York butcher shop so "dig in" is kinda suggestive of "what"???<br />
<br />
So...the ranch hand and the Gorgeous One...just started hammerin', sawin', mashin', GNAWING on that pile of crustacean like we was old pros.<br />
<br />
Bottom line...we ended up with it in our hair, on our face, covering our glasses...in our laps, on the chairs (and likely the ceiling).<br />
<br />
Sisyphus...we feel your pain dude...just be glad they didn't give ya eternity to crack open crabs?????TSRHhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15811377034968498707noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8240189638908338269.post-29800261306856307042013-03-12T09:36:00.000-05:002013-03-12T09:36:28.930-05:00And Then There Was One (SOB!)Where breathes the soul<br />
At least if alive<br />
Who does not worship<br />
505.<br />
<br />
It's ethereal goodness<br />
Is beyond compare<br />
The taste, the fragrance<br />
Well...just beware.<br />
<br />
Sister "C" is the junkie<br />
Who smuggles that narcotic rare<br />
From its NM home amid mountain air<br />
<br />
Nor meth...or crank...or cocaine<br />
Do it be<br />
But the deliciously ubiquitous<br />
GREEN CHILE!<br />
<br />
Fresh from Hatch<br />
The town of renown<br />
Where them grand hot peppers<br />
Wear the kingdom crown.<br />
<br />
Last visit from sister<br />
That Saint brung two large jars of Heaven<br />
(Still wonderin' why it wasn't SEVEN?)<br />
<br />
One jar down <br />
And one jar to go<br />
Already wonderin' if sis<br />
Will bring bro mo'???<br />
<br />
Gotta love it<br />
(and my baby sister)TSRHhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15811377034968498707noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8240189638908338269.post-22526272412850876252013-03-09T14:48:00.001-06:002013-03-09T14:49:56.596-06:00Simple PleasuresThe best things in life are most often the simple pleasures.<br />
<br />
Ain't much way to beat a good peach cobbler for soul satisfying "pleasure".<br />
<br />
Yesterday last...the ole fat boy burned down some lovingly aged ranch oak firewood into chunks of flavorlicious coals.<br />
<br />
Greased up the Tin Star cast iron dutch oven with the requisite lard....loaded that puppy with slice peaches, yellow cake mix, a stick of unsalted butter...and pixie dusted that "piece de resistance" with culinary quality cinnamon magic.<br />
<br />
Plopped on the lid....loaded the cherry red oak coals over/under the cobbler delivery device....and simply vegged in blissful silence for 30 minutes while smelling the sweet flowery odiferous waft of peachy cinnamon goodness stewing within.<br />
<br />
Hooeeee dawgeee...that stuff was slurp-i-li-shus wunnerful to this old man's taste buds when peeled outa the pan!!!!TSRHhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15811377034968498707noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8240189638908338269.post-29439933796914695882013-03-05T08:47:00.000-06:002013-03-05T08:47:25.124-06:00Country HumorDaddy Gene had a country funny bone that was beyond compare.<br />
<br />
Something out of the ordinary and unexplainable would occur and he would judiciously announce to no one in particular, "Well, shit and two is eight". Number one (and only son) has never really figgered that 'un out, but it always seemed to make sense in the context of the moment when intoned by Dad??<br />
<br />
If ya showed Daddy Gene your latest (EXPENSIVE) purchase that he thought was ridiculous...he would respond, "Cute".....in a way that more than conveyed his solemn belief that his onliest son was a dumass that provided a never ending source of humorous wonderment to him.<br />
<br />
He'd start to tell one of his mos' fav-rite jokes...and would begin laughing so hard with copious tears streaming down his face that he could'nt get to the "punch line"....and son....having no clue where the "joke" was headed...inevitably became powerlessly "tickled" with the same tears of mirth falling.<br />
<br />
The ole fat boy misses his Dad every single day. Many is the time Gene's boy has found a stump on the ranch, sat down, and had long talks with his Dad.<br />
<br />
Damn, I miss ya....but know your country perverted brand of humor survives on the Tin Star to this day.TSRHhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15811377034968498707noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8240189638908338269.post-71496876631317330502013-03-04T09:42:00.000-06:002013-03-04T09:42:25.422-06:00The Cowboy WayWatching the Lone Ranger, Gunsmoke, Wagon Train, and Rin Tin Tin on channel seven on the black and white TV no doubt inspired the ranch hand to long admire the "cowboy" lifestyle.<br />
<br />
The ole fat boy has never owned a horse and the ranch ain't even half vast, but that don't dilute appreciation of the genre.<br />
<br />
Accordingly, the ranch accoutrements include a backyard "Rusty Spur Saloon"...and an outdoor covered kitchen dubbed, "The Chuck Wagon".<br />
<br />
In an attempt to honor the "cookies" of the old west....yours truly has embarked on a culinary oddessy involving exploration of dutch oven cooking (biscuits, cobblers, and such), and disc harrow blade cooking (cowboy breakfast to beignets to fajitas to ??).<br />
<br />
So far, the family/guests have been without complaint regarding the groceries.<br />
<br />
The ranch hand jus' be grinnin' these days while sitting in the great outdoors, sippin' a cool adult beverage.....and smelling that superlicious grub on the oak fire coals.<br />
<br />
Life is good!TSRHhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15811377034968498707noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8240189638908338269.post-26391020765411005832013-02-16T15:16:00.000-06:002013-02-16T15:16:10.337-06:00GANG BANGERSGangs have likely existed since antiquity.<br />
<br />
Pirates are a popularized version, while the Crips and Bloods are the more modern genre.<br />
<br />
Regardless of the century or affiliation, gangs are a loosely associated group of individuals who "hang" together for social reasons. As an ancillary ego function, they take pride in believing that they "own" a defined territory where outsiders will fear to tresspass.<br />
<br />
One recent sunny day of peace and tranquility found eight mature adults strutting their "stuff" around the ranch with arrogance born of confident dominance over their world.<br />
<br />
After a bit, a covey of bout 15 jakes (with their paltry beards) sauntered innocently from the brush at a distance of 50 yards.....and having the false bravado of youth.... began to nervously pace about while craning their necks to gain a visual advantage (or perhaps to appear "taller"?).<br />
<br />
The ole ranch hand had it figgered that the "kids" would cut and run at the first sign of aggression from the big boys!<br />
<br />
Suddenly, the tenured crowd went on "alert", moved into a tight group, swelled their plummage to maximum volume, and....CHARGED!!!!...while bellowing their bugles in a blood curdling cocophany of "gobbles".<br />
<br />
Now, surely, the infants would flee in fear and trepidation?<br />
<br />
Oh hell no...them puppies formed a similar tight group....began to yell their battle cry in a somewhat higher register...and DOUBLE CHARGED at breakneck speed...straight at the opposing gang.<br />
<br />
No matador ever faced such a fierce charge of pure animal ferocity bent on destruction of a rival. At their point of contact, the Rio Grande feathered ones collided with the force of NFL linebackers in a "chest bump" of richter proportions...and then armageddon broke loose... and more chasing, pecking, gobbling, flapping went on than a body could imagine.<br />
<br />
Not a brief encountered...the combatants continued their rites of feudal ritual for the better part of an hour...and then the youngsters (recognizing the advantages of old age and treachery among seasoned warriors) finally slunk into the brush with their shoulders stooped and their tail feathers down.<br />
<br />
YEAH...SCORE ONE FOR US OLD GUYS!!!!TSRHhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15811377034968498707noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8240189638908338269.post-17989287972034280412013-02-09T15:09:00.000-06:002013-02-09T15:16:55.846-06:00The Ranch BuggyMy Cajun friend, Happy is bona fide.<br />
<br />
He stands at attention when they play "Jolie Blon" and he swears that his favorite bedtime story as child was "....first you make a roux".<br />
<br />
His commendables are to excess.......He is an enviable judge of "wimmen" (as evidence by his gorgeous child bride)...he is a business man without comparison...and among other sainted acts....he sold the old fat boy his prized ranch buggy at a mere pittance of its true value!<br />
<br />
Said "buggy" has been a daily companion, fetchin' "dawg", tool toter , venison carriage, and general overall FUN since "Day One"!<br />
<br />
Thanks ole buddy for your kind act in allowing me the privilege of it's care keeping.<br />
<br />
Now...remember that you promised to give up New Iberia Tabasco for Lent!TSRHhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15811377034968498707noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8240189638908338269.post-77405177594284106212013-01-18T17:03:00.001-06:002013-01-18T17:05:59.190-06:00Dust and Ashes"Let me speak further to my Lord, even though I am but dust and ashes."<br />
(Genesis 18:27)<br />
<br />
The ole ranch was blessed with acquisition of the Tin Star Ranch more than 8 years ago.<br />
<br />
The days since have included the sinuous joy of laboriously clearing the land using a weak mind and a semi-strong back.<br />
<br />
An altar of honor at the edge of the back "40" (pasture).... at the head of the dry creek bed, has served as host to countless stacks of dry brush.<br />
<br />
The dry brush, being an open invitation to bonfire, has traversed the chemical/mystical path from vegetation to "dust and ashes" more times than an old fat man can count.<br />
<br />
Course, three years of drought has at times made the frequency of the "burn" unpredictable. But sure as death and taxes....that puppy has taken an ash "nap" many a time.<br />
<br />
Today marked the most recent celebration of return to nature. Recent rains anoited the earth with moisture and thus the ranch hand did anoint that brush with fire.<br />
<br />
And so begins the cycle anew of cutting and stacking...followed inexorably by return to ashes.<br />
<br />
It is a self renewing exercise that will never cease in my life time...and I love it.TSRHhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15811377034968498707noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8240189638908338269.post-77116186263399450772013-01-04T14:09:00.000-06:002013-01-04T14:09:12.594-06:00Yellow SnowWell I turned around and I said oh, oh oh<br />
Well I turned around and I said oh, oh oh<br />
Well I turned around and I said ho, ho<br />
And the northern lights commenced to glow<br />
And she said, with a tear in her eye<br />
Watch out where the huskies go, and don't you eat that yellow snow<br />
Watch out where the huskies go, and don't you eat that yellow snow.<br />
(Frank Zappa, "Don't Eat the Yellow Snow", 1971)<br />
<br />
It snowed on the Tin Star Ranch this fine morn.....No big deal...except it ain't never done that in the tenure of the ranch hand?<br />
<br />
Reminded the ole fat boy of his days as a yonker in Wright City and those rare snow days that Texas renders.<br />
<br />
For those that live in snow from can til can't...snow is just more BS...<br />
<br />
For those that rarely see grits spittin' from above...it is a wonderment.<br />
<br />
A memory is of Mom having us rake some of the white frosting off the ground and her adding canned condensed milk and sugar to make snow "ice cream"!<br />
<br />
Mom would always admonish, "Don't bring in no yellow snow".<br />
<br />
Kids being kids, we didn't quite cabbage onto the wisdom of that advice til later years....but Mom...if ya are up there watchin'...your onliest son did NOT eat no yellow snow today!TSRHhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15811377034968498707noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8240189638908338269.post-4827975531752241202012-12-30T15:49:00.001-06:002012-12-30T15:50:36.303-06:00The Grim Reaper"The reports of my death are greatly exaggerated." (Mark Twain)'<br />
<br />
The ole ranch hand duly commemorated advancing age this flu season by obtaining his flu vaccination in a timely manner.<br />
<br />
Secure in the knowledge that the Grim Reaper would once again be stalled, the fat boy strolled into the winter sunset with a smile.....until Black Death descended with a vengeance one month later?<br />
<br />
Yeah, the last few days have found your haggard/humble country bumpkin contemplating such delightful topics as:<br />
<br />
1. Who could be conned into serving as a pall bearers?<br />
<br />
2. Will the bride ignore pleas to NOT go to Eternity burdened by a suit/tie?<br />
<br />
3. Will old "enemies" show up at the services to verify the blessing of the event?<br />
<br />
4. Will there be beer in the Hereafter?<br />
<br />
5. Will the number of attendees equal the number of facebook friends....Naw?<br />
<br />
Anywho.....tamiflu (and a bucket of other miracle drugs) finally slowed the pace of self-help funeral planning. <br />
<br />
Accordingly, it seems the Divine Creator has spared the ranch hand's sorry hide one mo' time.<br />
<br />
Now if they could just create a vaccination for "dumass"?TSRHhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15811377034968498707noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8240189638908338269.post-44157868667837259702012-12-17T17:38:00.001-06:002012-12-17T17:47:40.135-06:00Smokey and other BS ArtistsMs. Eva recently posted a tasty morsel related to "event boundaries". (wrestlingwithretirement.com)<br />
<br />
Seems that academic psycho-who-sis-es (plural of "babble-what-the-hey) postulated that passing thru a physical doorway (in any structure) creates a cerebral partition. Said "partition" formulates a "clean slate" for the purpose of separating one set of thoughts and memories from the next.<br />
<br />
To break this concept down into the basic East Texas version....ya gotta first visualize a country squirrel on a hot summer day evaluatin' his road crossing traffic options upon the approach of multiple vehicles (while said nutcracker is astraddle the center line).<br />
<br />
Does our wannabe Olympic sprinter want to dodge right or left...OK, left..no right...no left/ right/right/right/left....ARRGGGGHHH...splat.<br />
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As Smokey the Bear says...."Remember, only you can prevent an event boundary"!<br />
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TSRHhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15811377034968498707noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8240189638908338269.post-89915610829463142622012-12-12T19:03:00.002-06:002012-12-12T19:03:28.164-06:00HINDER DESKSThe ole ranch hand was borned and raised under rather modest circumstances in Wright City.<br />
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Only one black and white TV in the house with only one channel available (when the weather was clear). No telephone. No microwave. No skills with artificial intelligence whatsoever. You get the idea?<br />
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Accordingly, the fat boy did not touch a computer until into his third decade of life. <br />
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Since that ill fated day, your still neophyte "nerd" has progressed to ownership of multiple personal machines.<br />
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Another words, the country bumpkin can (on occasion) navigate the cyberspacial world and function (sorta?) on-line.<br />
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The "fly" in this "soup" is that for every action, there is an equal and opposite malfunction generated by yours truly. This malady, unfortunately, requires the all too frequent call to a so-called "Help Desk" in some foreign land.<br />
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Called a toll free number this day and 'splained my problem to a "real person". Was only told, "hold for a moment", before a "Punch 1 for this and 2 for that" serenade started.<br />
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Punched "2" and got a recorded message to, "Call another number"????<br />
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Called the "other number" and got a "real person", but have yet to figger out their native language. Lead pipe cinch it weren't English (and heard all manner of world-wide dialects from "help" in the background chatter?????)<br />
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Went into detail 'bout the problem at issue, answered a bucket-load of questions, and was told, "I am going to make you very happy, but.....our computer system is down for maintenance and you will have to call back another time".<br />
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So here is the question....should I unplug the computer, pack it like when purchased, and take it by to the store to tell them I am too stupid to have a computer...or should the good ole U.S. of A. staff their own damn help desks????<br />
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WAKE UP AMERICA!!!!TSRHhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15811377034968498707noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8240189638908338269.post-28630571911631830542012-12-07T15:37:00.001-06:002012-12-07T15:37:37.238-06:00MAKIN' MAGICThe ole fat boy and his beautiful bride took the notion evenin' last to gather up the five year old nephew and three year old niece and make some "magic" thru the decoration of Christmas sugar cookies.<br />
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Engendered by family love and innocent in intention,this was a great idea that would surely become legendary in memory.<br />
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The holiday pastries were carefully cooked to perfection and the "sprinkles" and icing was evenly divided between two card tables to separate the "combatants" during the blessed event.<br />
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Picked them eager puppies up at day-care, transported them to the ranch, and launched the festivities without delay.<br />
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Then the "plan" began to disintegrate a bit???<br />
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It seems that grabbing plastic spoons and sloppin' icing down one's throat is infinitely more fun than carefully layering it onto a cookie?<br />
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And who would have thought that fancy colored sprinkles judiciously divided into little plastic bathroom sipping cups would be such awesome shot glasses to "chug" sugar charged energy fuel with unbridled enthusiasm????<br />
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Add pretzels to the "reindeer head" cookies"...NAW...throw them at your sibling at the neighboring table while giggling incomprehensible glee????<br />
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At the end of the evening it could easily be said it was "fun"...to have the experience....!!!!<br />
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Now if the ranch hand can figger how to get the tractor in the house to round up all that "fun" that ended up on the floor???TSRHhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15811377034968498707noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8240189638908338269.post-31200294482411240262012-12-03T15:21:00.002-06:002012-12-03T15:24:23.905-06:00PRIDEPride goeth before destruction, and an haughty spirit before a fall. (Proverbs 16:18)<br />
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The ole fat boy and his beautiful child bride have spent the past year faithfully toiling in the salt mine (local exercise gym).<br />
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Yeah, the ranch hand has often grumbled and made lame-butt excuses bout not goin', but the little woman always lowered her voice, raised her eyebrows....and well hell, got my sorry self to the dungeon.<br />
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Slowly and painfully, your sextarian age scribe progressed from embarassing his ownself...to actually making progress on the track and in the weight room.<br />
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This fine morn found the Olympic wannabe chuggin' round the gym oval like a steam engine. Head held high, chest out, arms and legs pumpin' and churnin' like a threshing machine. Such was the magnificence of this display of physical prowess that all fellow athletes were eyeballin' the ranch hand with obvious envy.<br />
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Then reality reared it ugly head and slapped ole dumass up the side of the head with the fact that they was starin' because he was stylin' in his size 13 "croc" (fur lined") deluxe HOUSESHOES???<br />
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Dang that "fall" from grace was embarassing!TSRHhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15811377034968498707noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8240189638908338269.post-71226508146926481322012-11-27T14:35:00.001-06:002012-11-27T14:57:26.512-06:00The Ranch Grinch"The Twelve Days of Christmas", an ancient English Christmas carol, enumerates a series of increasingly grand gifts given on each of the twelve days of Christmas. <br />
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It's a lovely tune the ranch hand has never hesitated to make up words for since he is too dumb to remember the actual "stuff"?<br />
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However, the fact that most Christians don't actually celebrate twelve days of the commercialized version of Christmas is a blessing highly appreciated by this ole fat boy. <br />
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The reasons:<br />
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1. Ya wanna see a grown man break out in a cold sweat and quiver? <br />
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2. Ya wanna see a confused guy wondering from aisle to aisle mumblin' to his own self while doin' prolific eyeball rollin'?<br />
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....then just watch your humble blogger doing holiday "shopping". <br />
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Said shopping confusion most likely resembles a passage written by Dr. Seuss:<br />
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"And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow, stood puzzling and puzzling, how could it be so? And he puzzled and puzzled 'till his puzzler was sore."<br />
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Oh for the days when an upstanding magi had only to stop by the local gold, frankincense, and myrrh shop for gift purchases. <br />
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Surely life was simpler?TSRHhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15811377034968498707noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8240189638908338269.post-486270468599008132012-11-04T09:19:00.003-06:002012-11-04T09:21:24.858-06:00THE COUGHEasing thru the smooth dark velvet of pre-dawn darkness this morn was punctuated by the soft hooting of the ranch's resident owl in a distant tree. Plaintive in its call, but determined, the raptor continued its serenade till the sun rose thru a pink cascade of eastern sky.<br />
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A doe and her male fawn browsed along savoring the bounty of acorns and green fodder on the east pasture carpet. The nubbin buck proudly displayed its fur covered "bump" antlers as nobly as the trophy it may one day become (while occasionally visiting mama to nurse again).<br />
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The sudden bray of a neighbor's donkey gave no cause of concern to the casual diners. However, the unavoidable COUGH of your humble scribe set the duo on immediate guard as the doe began to loudly stamp her front hooves! This warning display continued for many minutes until she was satisfied the old fat man in the tree was a harmless doofus.<br />
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Next, a two year old six point buck slowly cruised from the surrounding brush and began his stalk of the doe....no doubt with romantic notions abloom?<br />
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Twenty minutes of fruitless pursuit continued until the young buck finally exited to find other, more amorous potential mates.<br />
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No venison collected on the Tin Star this second day of the season, but who cares?? Life is GREAT!<br />
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TSRHhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15811377034968498707noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8240189638908338269.post-64960746076200769122012-11-03T09:29:00.001-05:002012-11-03T09:32:35.309-05:00THE BIG BUCKThe 2012 Texas deer season was officially announced this fine morn by the chatter of the ranch corn feeder spraying its golden morsels about as homage to the woodland creature dietary desires.<br />
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Likely, only life-long deer hunters can best appreciate the shear beauty of an "opening morning" with its stirring of resident varmits inspired by the timid initial face of Ole Sol peeking over the east horizon?<br />
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This morn found The old fat boy perched in his elevated deer condo adjacent to the barn in the north extremity of the ranch.<br />
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Just the faintest hint of cool breeze stirred to move the early cool velvet pre-dawn. Without doubt, there was the hint of "promise" in the air.<br />
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After about 45 minutes, a stately doe casually sauntered from one oak tree to the other solemnly munching on the acorn protein bounty. Solitary in her lone appearance, but appreciated as our first "visitor".<br />
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Near 8:30, movement on the back fence line proved to be a magnificent male of the species. Heavy in body, magnificent in antlered glory.<br />
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Alas, after a brief peek-a-boo in and out of the trees, Senior Horns faded into the brush of the neighboring ranch.<br />
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What a wonderful "opening morning"!!!!! The privilege of watching our Master's handiwork awakening the day, seeing His creations at peace on the land, and that always special adrenaline thrill of seeing THE BIG BUCK.<br />
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Life is good.TSRHhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15811377034968498707noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8240189638908338269.post-4287738103909163822012-11-02T12:37:00.000-05:002012-11-02T12:41:44.222-05:00The ProcessTomorrow's timid dawning will initiate the 42nd opening morning of participating in Texas deer season for the ole fat boy.<br />
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The early years were mostly "guessing" as to what to do, look for, or whatever?<br />
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No one in the ranch hand's family were deer hunters (since there were no deer in Wright City) and therefore the neophyte's knowledge was mostly gleaned from Field and Stream magazines.<br />
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Imagine your humble scribe's befuddled manner on the occasion of his first acquistition of a walking smoked sausage venison donor? Yep, no clue as to how to get what was inside...outside...and thus prepare for "processing" future protein accoutrements???<br />
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Well, it got muddled through and after harvesting likely more than 50 of them varmits over the past decades...the only "thrill" left is the "process". Watching the ruminants all year, feeding them groceries, following their woodland trails, photographing their antics, and generally enjoying the "process" of deer hunting is where the genuine pleasure lies.<br />
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Course, that smoked jalapeno/cheese reindeer hot gut and chicken fried backstrap is a bit of an incentive without compare!<br />
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TSRHhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15811377034968498707noreply@blogger.com1