If Dad were alive, he would be 78 today.
He didn't make much of birthdays, but he stated his date of birth enough times that the senile ranch hand seems to always remember it: July 25, 1932.
Dad was remarkable in many ways. He was physically the strongest person I ever knew, he was the "wildest" person in the world to the outside, but the most loving person to his family, and he had the funniest sense of humor one could ever imagine.
Dad, I miss you more than you could ever know. I feel that you talk to me, so please know I hear you.
I strive each day to be a person that deserves being your son.
Happy birthday Dad.... I miss you so much.
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Saturday, July 24, 2010
GLORY
As previously "mentioned", my Dad was a "dauber" welder.
He got accomplished what he wanted to do, although on occasion it was "butt ugly"?
The ranch hand has chronicled the acquisition of a gasoline engine welder, a trailer, and related appurtenances.
Today marked near 30 hours of hot, sweaty labor to "marry" all into a workable "rig"!
Glory be to heaven as it actually came together in a symmetrical eye appealing (and functional) manner.
I felt you today, Dad, when I wheeled that puppy out of the barn. There is no doubt in my mind that you knew what had been accomplished, and you felt pride in your onliest son's work.
Damn, I miss you.....
He got accomplished what he wanted to do, although on occasion it was "butt ugly"?
The ranch hand has chronicled the acquisition of a gasoline engine welder, a trailer, and related appurtenances.
Today marked near 30 hours of hot, sweaty labor to "marry" all into a workable "rig"!
Glory be to heaven as it actually came together in a symmetrical eye appealing (and functional) manner.
I felt you today, Dad, when I wheeled that puppy out of the barn. There is no doubt in my mind that you knew what had been accomplished, and you felt pride in your onliest son's work.
Damn, I miss you.....
Friday, July 23, 2010
SILENCE
There is an inner sense which points one to the silence of being and awareness.
As an example, the ranch hand believes that God can not be best be found in noise and restlessness. On the contrary, our Savior is the friend of silence.
Silence can be a lucid and elegant drama, or it can be a balm that soothes the nerve that is vibrating ad infinitum.
We find in Ecclesiastes 3:7, "there is a time to speak and a time to be silent".
The ole fat boy learned long ago that which follows:
* Be still, and be quiet, and nature will speak to one as though there is no other
* Folks like to talk, and they like someone to listen; ya can be consider "wise", just by keeping your trap shut,
* Become one with silence, it is a blessed blanket of comfort
* We seldom put our proverbial "foot in mouth" when the pie-trap is shut
Nuthin' heavy here, just more ramblin' from yur country scribe?
As an example, the ranch hand believes that God can not be best be found in noise and restlessness. On the contrary, our Savior is the friend of silence.
Silence can be a lucid and elegant drama, or it can be a balm that soothes the nerve that is vibrating ad infinitum.
We find in Ecclesiastes 3:7, "there is a time to speak and a time to be silent".
The ole fat boy learned long ago that which follows:
* Be still, and be quiet, and nature will speak to one as though there is no other
* Folks like to talk, and they like someone to listen; ya can be consider "wise", just by keeping your trap shut,
* Become one with silence, it is a blessed blanket of comfort
* We seldom put our proverbial "foot in mouth" when the pie-trap is shut
Nuthin' heavy here, just more ramblin' from yur country scribe?
COURAGE
The ole ranch hand once read that courage is being scared to death and saddling up anyway.
Ya gotta figger a man that says he has never been "scared" is either a liar or an ignorant fool?
Your humble scribe has spent forty years in a profession that is 99% boredom and 1% sheer terror. Those who survive in a job of this nature are those that find a way to push aside the "scared" part and do the right thing for the right reasons....right now.
This is not and never will be a political blog, but damn a body can't help but wish our country's leaders could show a bit more "courage" these days?
My esteemed reader(s?) might want to memorialize this brief treatise on the state of the U.S. "guvment" as it will likely be the first/last, given that the TSRH offerings are reserved for 24 carat bull shit with no value stated, implied, or intended?
Ya gotta figger a man that says he has never been "scared" is either a liar or an ignorant fool?
Your humble scribe has spent forty years in a profession that is 99% boredom and 1% sheer terror. Those who survive in a job of this nature are those that find a way to push aside the "scared" part and do the right thing for the right reasons....right now.
This is not and never will be a political blog, but damn a body can't help but wish our country's leaders could show a bit more "courage" these days?
My esteemed reader(s?) might want to memorialize this brief treatise on the state of the U.S. "guvment" as it will likely be the first/last, given that the TSRH offerings are reserved for 24 carat bull shit with no value stated, implied, or intended?
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Priceless
This humble blog has chronicled the ranch hand's long lost lust for fishing.
The old fat boy went from worship of piscatorial pursuit on a multi-day per week basis to "nuthin" for the last 20 years.
Sad, but true.
Given the realization of opportunity lost, the remembrance of a blessed passion, and ample reason to recapture a portion of life's simple pleasures, the ranch hand resolved to once again pick up a rod and crank a reel.
The backsliding addiction to feel the pulsing throb of a scaled creature in mortal combat to remain in its watery world has become of late a headliner on the ubiquitous "bucket list".
This last week included "escape" from the routine of ranch life and journey to the cool high country in the north of America.
The New Mexico mountains, in idyllic areas of "Eden" include lakes and rivers brimming with trout.
Your neophyte fly rod "chunker" indulged his long lost love while glorifying in the God given scenery, cool mountain air, and soul satisfying exaltation of the simple act of temporarily removing Michelangelo quality rainbow trout from their liquid lair.
PRICELESS!!!!!!
The old fat boy went from worship of piscatorial pursuit on a multi-day per week basis to "nuthin" for the last 20 years.
Sad, but true.
Given the realization of opportunity lost, the remembrance of a blessed passion, and ample reason to recapture a portion of life's simple pleasures, the ranch hand resolved to once again pick up a rod and crank a reel.
The backsliding addiction to feel the pulsing throb of a scaled creature in mortal combat to remain in its watery world has become of late a headliner on the ubiquitous "bucket list".
This last week included "escape" from the routine of ranch life and journey to the cool high country in the north of America.
The New Mexico mountains, in idyllic areas of "Eden" include lakes and rivers brimming with trout.
Your neophyte fly rod "chunker" indulged his long lost love while glorifying in the God given scenery, cool mountain air, and soul satisfying exaltation of the simple act of temporarily removing Michelangelo quality rainbow trout from their liquid lair.
PRICELESS!!!!!!
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
The Test
Kenneth and Archie were Mom's step-brothers. They were mostly white-trash alkies, but they did have one enviable trait. They were industrial welders that could pass the "test".
Dad said to get the high paying welding jobs as a pipe fitter, ya had to take a test where ya welded some steel and then the weld was x-rayed to determine its quality. Apparently Kenneth and Archie could easily past the "test" every time. Dad started out trying to learn this trade, but he said he could never weld over his head while the white hot slag was raining down on him?
Dad managed to weld a bit over the years, but he called what he did "daubing" (like a dirt dauber wasp building a mud nest).
After welding on and off for the last several years, the ole ranch hand has decided that the progression of welding skill is as follows:
1. Daubing
2. Sorry beads
3. An occasional good bead, but ya have no clue how ya did it?
4. More frequent good beads, but just as frequent relapse back to daubing??
5. Mostly good beads with occasional "disaster"???
6. All welds that a metal grinder can make purty!
7. Purty welds that a metal grinder can make better!!
8. "Test" quality welds????????
After two eight hour Saturdays in the barn with the new Miller Wildcat humming all day, the old fat boy has "progressed" from number 1 to number 6 (and back to number 1 a time or two?).
The goal is number 7 with consistency.
Forget about number 8 (I couldn't drink that much hooch anyway).
Dad said to get the high paying welding jobs as a pipe fitter, ya had to take a test where ya welded some steel and then the weld was x-rayed to determine its quality. Apparently Kenneth and Archie could easily past the "test" every time. Dad started out trying to learn this trade, but he said he could never weld over his head while the white hot slag was raining down on him?
Dad managed to weld a bit over the years, but he called what he did "daubing" (like a dirt dauber wasp building a mud nest).
After welding on and off for the last several years, the ole ranch hand has decided that the progression of welding skill is as follows:
1. Daubing
2. Sorry beads
3. An occasional good bead, but ya have no clue how ya did it?
4. More frequent good beads, but just as frequent relapse back to daubing??
5. Mostly good beads with occasional "disaster"???
6. All welds that a metal grinder can make purty!
7. Purty welds that a metal grinder can make better!!
8. "Test" quality welds????????
After two eight hour Saturdays in the barn with the new Miller Wildcat humming all day, the old fat boy has "progressed" from number 1 to number 6 (and back to number 1 a time or two?).
The goal is number 7 with consistency.
Forget about number 8 (I couldn't drink that much hooch anyway).
Sunday, June 27, 2010
WEEKENDS
Ya work your whole life and at times, seem to live for the "weekend".
Leisure time, chores around the house, bonding with the "fam".
Then ya retire, and the weekend is when the workin' folk are on the roads and in the stores "in the way" while you may want to shop?
Go back to a job after "retirement" and ya start to live for the weekends again??? (and Monday mornings renewed as a butt pain of monumental proportions?)
The ole fat boy done been on both ends of that "stick" and is here to tell ya that the retired part of the equation is the WINNER.
Leisure time, chores around the house, bonding with the "fam".
Then ya retire, and the weekend is when the workin' folk are on the roads and in the stores "in the way" while you may want to shop?
Go back to a job after "retirement" and ya start to live for the weekends again??? (and Monday mornings renewed as a butt pain of monumental proportions?)
The ole fat boy done been on both ends of that "stick" and is here to tell ya that the retired part of the equation is the WINNER.
Saturday, June 26, 2010
The Warrior
From teen years the old ranch hand knew he wanted to do some welding.
Mr. Holmes had an oil field welding shop in Turnertown and it fascinated a dumass country boy to see things fabricated from steel and welded into their final design.
Wanting the "stuff" to weld and prioritizing it with family and such delayed any equipment acquisition until about 1984. Yep, the ole fat boy waltzed into Montgomery Ward's and purchased their finest (cheapest) "popcorn" welder to take to the ranchito in Wright City.
Course, knew Dad was a bit of a welding "dauber" himself so he would naturally be "borrowing" the new "prize" from time to time.
"Time to time" turned into immediate "planting" in Dad's backyard (where it resided until his demise 15 years later?)
The Ward's warrior is currently in the ranch barn in an honored capacity commemorating its long years of service to Dad.
This fine day, the ranch hand cranked his newly acquired gasoline engine welder-nator contraption and spent eight of the finest hours one could imagine "daubing" flux coated, sputtering, steel rods applied to a project that your humble scribe prays Mr. Holmes and Dad would be proud of?
Yeah Dad, I knew I wouldn't have the time to fire up that Monkey Wards machine when I bought it, but I also knew you would wear its butt out with a vengeance.
Mr. Holmes had an oil field welding shop in Turnertown and it fascinated a dumass country boy to see things fabricated from steel and welded into their final design.
Wanting the "stuff" to weld and prioritizing it with family and such delayed any equipment acquisition until about 1984. Yep, the ole fat boy waltzed into Montgomery Ward's and purchased their finest (cheapest) "popcorn" welder to take to the ranchito in Wright City.
Course, knew Dad was a bit of a welding "dauber" himself so he would naturally be "borrowing" the new "prize" from time to time.
"Time to time" turned into immediate "planting" in Dad's backyard (where it resided until his demise 15 years later?)
The Ward's warrior is currently in the ranch barn in an honored capacity commemorating its long years of service to Dad.
This fine day, the ranch hand cranked his newly acquired gasoline engine welder-nator contraption and spent eight of the finest hours one could imagine "daubing" flux coated, sputtering, steel rods applied to a project that your humble scribe prays Mr. Holmes and Dad would be proud of?
Yeah Dad, I knew I wouldn't have the time to fire up that Monkey Wards machine when I bought it, but I also knew you would wear its butt out with a vengeance.
Monday, June 21, 2010
Kuntry Butt Kickin'
The old fat boy decided this last fine weekend to make the ranch brush bow down and ask forgiveness for its encroachment.
Bad mistake.
Worked two days in the magnificent Texas heat and humidity with scarcely a break...and dang near foundered?
Cuttin' and stackin' that stuff is the devil's own punishment in heat as it wipes out an old fat man quicker than mercury will shine a dime?
Bottom line: missed work today at the town job as too dad-gum tuckered to drive in?
Brush "1" and ranch hand "0", AGAIN?????
Wouldn't ya think a dumass from Wright City would learn sooner or later??????
Bad mistake.
Worked two days in the magnificent Texas heat and humidity with scarcely a break...and dang near foundered?
Cuttin' and stackin' that stuff is the devil's own punishment in heat as it wipes out an old fat man quicker than mercury will shine a dime?
Bottom line: missed work today at the town job as too dad-gum tuckered to drive in?
Brush "1" and ranch hand "0", AGAIN?????
Wouldn't ya think a dumass from Wright City would learn sooner or later??????
Friday, June 18, 2010
Ephiphany
Your humble scribe of this blog is somewhat below the level of the amoeba in intelligence, but above the average in "wannabe"?
Included in this quotation is the desire to be something of a photographer????
Done learned that equipment has a degree of importance, and sure, skill has its proverbial input, but....dadgum...luck is ever so prevalent in any "shoot"?
This ole fat boy "spied" his resident backyard rat snake a'slitherin' crossed the backyard this day and managed to capture his image on the digital NIKON?
Who would a' figgered....captured the picture taker in the eye of the beast as well...
Ya gotta love epiphanies that ya had no part in an can't reproduce under any circumstance??
Included in this quotation is the desire to be something of a photographer????
Done learned that equipment has a degree of importance, and sure, skill has its proverbial input, but....dadgum...luck is ever so prevalent in any "shoot"?
This ole fat boy "spied" his resident backyard rat snake a'slitherin' crossed the backyard this day and managed to capture his image on the digital NIKON?
Who would a' figgered....captured the picture taker in the eye of the beast as well...
Ya gotta love epiphanies that ya had no part in an can't reproduce under any circumstance??
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