I Hope You Don't Mind...

...that I added a picture of Chico the Wonder Dog on my blog. He was such a part of my blogging and my thinking (and my life) that, even though he isn't here in the flesh, he is (as he should be) still here in my heart.

Later...

My Friend, the River..'An Adventure'..-and Mom...

It was summer of 1944 and I was at the river swimming. I was eight.
At the end of the road that curves to the right where it gets to the river, there is a large pipe that dumps water from an underground canal into the river. For a while, after water had been running into the river dredging out a hole in the river bottom, I could shallow dive or jump from the end of the pipe into that hole in the bottom of the river. It was great, as was anything that had to do with my friend, the River.
It was just one of a hundred wonderful places about which I knew in the river.

As great as my friend, the River was, sometimes people weren't too good to it. This day was one of those times.

I jumped into the water at the end of the pipe and headed downstream, moving along in the shallow water on my hands and knees. (In parts of the river where the water is shallow, I moved along in a crawling position to keep my body completely under the water and out of the direct sunlight..-this is one of those places)

I had swam and played here many times, usually alone so's not to be distracted by the presence of another person. I usually had some adventurous plan to execute that couldn't involve anyone else. This time was no exception.

Anyhow, as I swam/crawled along on the bottom just downstream from the pipe, I suddenly felt a sharp stinging in my right knee. I quickly pulled my knee up from the sandy bottom and saw the water turn red.
"That's odd," I thought. Then a light came on in my young and fertile mind and I realized it was blood and it was coming from my knee, a result of the cause of the stinging sensation I had just felt.

"I'll be damned," I said aloud, (I cussed a lot as a youth,-but, as in the immortal words of William Muny, "I ain't Like that no more...") "Something must have cut my knee!"

Oddly, at that point, my first thought was to find the offending object so I started a slow crawl back the way I had come, carefully searching the bottom for that instrument of the offense. After a few feet, one of my hands (the right one, I think) felt a sharp object protruding up from the sandy river bed. Then (with both hands) I carefully tugged it until it gave up it's grip on the planet. It was a shard from a beer bottle that had been broken by some imbiber and tossed into my friend. That really pissed me off, the realization that someone had offended the river in this way so I cussed again. (I think I said, 'shit', my then favorite cuss word)

I took the shard and climbed up the bank to dry land to examine my wound. The blood was still gushing from my knee. I looked it over carefully. It was a pretty impressive gash, not quite to the bone, but about two inches long. (I still have the scar)
You wanna hear something weird? The first thing I remember thinking about the gash was: At least the alchol from the beer will kill the germs! --- Go figure a young, still forming mind!

Well, the upshot of this tale is: I held a piece of paper I had found on the ground against my knee and, taking the shard along as evidence, walked briskly the quarter mile to my house where my Mother was, as always, waiting to attend to me. (or anyone else who needed to be attended to)

And Mother, like a mother should, fixed the gash in my knee by pressing a rag against it until it stopped bleeding, cleaned it gently with a clean rag, spread it open and, completely dis-regarding my screams of impending pain from the application of it, poured it full of Merthiolate, a fire-red medicine obviously made from crushed and juiced hot cayenne and chili peppers and the fire from an acetylene torch.

As the Merthiolate did it's job, ( generating so much burning pain that one forgets about the almost non-existing twinge from the actual wound ) I did my screaming until my Mother, in her infinite wisdom, informed me that, if I really wanted to scream, she would be more than happy to give me something to scream about. (That usually referred to a sharp slap in the mouth)

Then, using the considerable skills she had developed through the years of helping others in need of medical assistance, she pushed the sides of the gash together and wrapped a clean rag around it several times(it seems we always had plenty of clean rags around for emergencies) and pulled it tight enough to keep the gash closed. She told me to not bend my knee for a while, at least until the now only slight bleeding stopped completely and it would be all right. And once again, as she had done a trillion times, she ordered me to not go to 'that river' anymore.
Without question, I obeyed her about not bending my knee and she was right.(She was always right about everything except my friend, the River) The gash did heal with only a remnant of it left, a beautiful scar that I carried with honor and proudly exhibited to my friends for years! It was Great!

I think about my friend, the River, a lot and I think about my Mother a lot. Maybe, when I die, I'll have my ashes dumped into the river and then I'll be with both of them in the here and in the hereafter. Now that's really something to look forward to!

Later...

Interesting Facts.....(and fun)...

I think this is pretty cute. I got it from my cousin, Eileen.

In the 1400's a law was set forth in England that a man was allowed to
beat his wife with a stick no thicker than his thumb. Hence we have "the
rule of thumb"

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Many years ago in Scotland , a new game was invented. It was ruled
"Gentlemen Only...Ladies Forbidden"...and thus the word GOLF entered
into the English language.

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The first couple to be shown in bed together on prime time TV were Fred
and Wilma Flintstone.

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Every day more money is printed for Monopoly than the U.S. Treasury.

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Men can read smaller print than women can; women can hear better.

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Coca-Cola was originally green.

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It is impossible to lick your elbow.

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The State with the highest percentage of people who walk to work: Alaska


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The percentage of Africa that is wilderness: 28% (now get this...)

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The percentage of North America that is wilderness: 38%

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The cost of raising a medium-size dog to the age of eleven: $ 16,400

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The average number of people airborne over the U.S. in any given hour:
61,000

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Intelligent people have more zinc and copper in their hair.

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The first novel ever written on a typewriter: Tom Sawyer.

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The San Francisco Cable cars are the only mobile National Monuments.

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Each king in a deck of playing cards represents a great king from
history:

Spades - King David

Hearts - Charlemagne

Clubs -Alexander, the Great

Diamonds - Julius Caesar

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111,111,111 x 111,111,111 = 12,345,678,987,654,321

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If a statue in the park of a person on a horse has both front legs in
the air, the person died in battle. If the horse has one front leg in
the air the person died as a result of wounds received in battle. If the
horse has all four legs on the ground, the person died of natural
causes.

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Only two people signed the Declaration of Independence on July 4th, John
Hancock and Charles Thomson. Most of the rest signed on August 2, but
the last signature wasn't added until 5 years later.

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Q. Half of all Americans live within 50 miles of what?

A. Their birthplace

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Q. Most boat owners name their boats. What is the most popular boat name
requested?

A. Obsession

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Q. If you were to spell out numbers, how far would you have to go until
you would find the letter "A"?

A. One thousand

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Q. What do bulletproof vests, fire escapes, windshield wipers, and laser
printers all have in common?

A. All were invented by women.

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Q. What is the only food that doesn't spoil?

A. Honey

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Q. Which day are there more collect calls than any other day of the
year?

A. Father's Day

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-----------------------------

In Shakespeare's time, mattresses were secured on bed frames by ropes.
When you pulled on the ropes the mattress tightened, making the bed
firmer to sleep on. Hence the phrase......... "goodnight, sleep tight."

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It was the accepted practice in Babylon 4,000 years ago that for a month
after the wedding, the bride's father would supply his son-in-law with
all the mead he could drink. Mead is a honey beer and because their
calendar was lunar based, this period was called the honey month, which
we know today as the honeymoon.

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In English pubs, ale is ordered by pints and quarts... So in old England
, when customers got unruly, the bartender would yell at them "Mind your
pints and quarts, and settle down."

It's where we get the phrase "mind your P's and Q's"

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Many years ago in England , pub frequenters had a whistle baked into the
rim, or handle, of their ceramic cups. When they needed a refill, they
used the whistle to get some service. "Wet your whistle" is the phrase
inspired by this practice.

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~~~~~~~~~~~AND FINALLY~~~~~~~~~~~~

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At least 75% of people who read this will try to lick their elbow!

-------------------------------------------------------------------------


Don't delete this just because it looks weird. Believe it or not, you
can read it.

I cdnuolt blveiee taht I cluod aulaclty

uesdnatnrd waht I was rdanieg. The

phaonmneal pweor of the hmuan mnid Aoccdrnig to rscheearch at Cmabrigde

Uinervtisy, it deosn't mttaer in waht oredr the

ltteers in a wrod are, the olny iprmoatnt tihng is taht the frist and
lsat ltteer be in the rghit

pclae. The rset can be a taotl mses and you can sitll raed it wouthit a
porbelm. Tihs is bcuseae the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey lteter by
istlef, but the wrod as a wlohe. Amzanig huh?

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YOU KNOW YOU ARE LIVING IN 2006 when...

1. You accidentally enter your PIN on the microwave.

2. You haven't played solitaire with real cards in years.

3. You have a list of 15 phone numbers to reach your family of three.

4. You e-mail the person who works at the desk next to you.

5. Your reason for not staying in touch with friends and family is that
they don't have e-mail addresses.

6. You pull up in your own driveway and use your cell phone to see if
anyone is home to help you carry in the groceries.

7. Every commercial on television has a web site at the bottom of the
screen.

8. Leaving the house without your cell phone, which you didn't even
have the first 20 or 30 (or 60) years of your life, is now a cause for
panic and you turn around to go and get it.

10. You get up in the morning and go on line before getting your
coffee.

11. You start tilting your head sideways to smile. : )

12. You're reading this and nodding and laughing.

13. Even worse, you know exactly to whom you are going to forward this
message.

14. You are too busy to notice there was no #9 on this list.

15. You actually scrolled back up to check that there wasn't a #9 on
this list.

AND NOW U R LAUGHING at yourself.

Go on, forward this to your friends. You know you want to!

A 97 Percenter...

You paid attention during 97% of high school!

85-100% You must be an autodidact, because American high schools don't get scores that high! Good show, old chap!

Do you deserve your high school diploma?
Create a Quiz

...'blush'...

Later...

You Might Be A True American if...

YOU MIGHT BE A TRUE AMERICAN IF...

It is time to change from REDNECK humor to TRUE AMERICAN humor! Only I don't see it as Humor, but the correct way to LIVE YOUR LIFE! If you feel the same, pass this on to your True American friends. Ya'll know who ya' are...

You might be a TRUE AMERICAN if: It never occurred to you to be offended by the phrase, "One nation, under God."

You might be a TRUE AMERICAN if: You've never protested about seeing the 10 Commandments posted in public places.

You might be a TRUE AMERICAN if: You still say "Merry Christmas" instead of "Winter Festival".

You might be a TRUE AMERICAN if: You bow your head when someone prays.

You might be a TRUE AMERICAN if: You stand and place your hand over your heart when they play the National Anthem...

You might be a TRUE AMERICAN if: You treat Viet Nam vets with great respect, and always have.

You might be a TRUE AMERICAN if: You've never burned an American flag or any one elses flag.

You might be a TRUE AMERICAN if: You know what you believe and you aren't afraid to say so, no matter who is listening.

You might be a TRUE AMERICAN if: You respect your elders and expect your kids to do the same.

You might be a TRUE AMERICAN if: You'd give your last dollar to a friend.

You might be a TRUE AMERICAN if: You know the difference between an immigrant and a person who has no respect for your laws.

If you got this e-mail from me, it is because I believe that you, like me, have just enough TRUE AMERICAN in you to have the same beliefs as those talked about in this e-mail.

God Bless the U S A !

Later...

A Visit From Chico the Wonder Dog...

It has been a while since Chico the Wonder Dog left us to go to Doggie Heaven and I guess it's time to bring everyone up to date on the Heavenly Happenings around here.

At first I thought I was hearing things. While lying in bed early one morning, I heard a very familiar sound; the sound of Chico the Wonder Dog's ears being flopped back and forth. I sat upright in the bed. It was very early in the morning.

"What the hell," I muttered very lowly. It was just breaking daylight outside and I thought I might be dreaming. Then I realized I had been awake, lying there waiting for it to be at least 6 o'clock before I got up.
I usually awoke in my chair in the great room, having migrated there after not being able to sleep well in the bed after the initial hour or two. But this night I had fallen asleep in the bed, arisen at 1;30, had my usual coftee and peanut butter and graham cracker repast while watching the Shepherd's Chapel, became once again drowsy and decided to retreat back to the bed and give sleep a shot there. It worked this time (strangely) and I did fall back into the arms of Morpheus for an adventure or two.

But now I was awake, waiting to arise when I heard the noise. I did arise and I looked around for whatever might make such a sound, even slid open the glass door to the porch and checked outside. There was nothing about on which I could blame this sound. I didn't mention this to mi espousa. (id est; my wife,- a little Mex lingo there )

Is this spooky yet? OK, here is more:

I heard the sound again a short time later while I was sitting in my chair in the middle of the day; not dozing but fully awake:-and for the third time while sitting in front of my computer one evening when Donna was off to the market.

Until now I had agonized about these happenings, not wanting to tell Donna for fear she would think my mental arrangement had been compromised by my grief in losing our boy, even though I knew without a doubt that Chico the Wonder Dog had been visiting me, announcing his presence by his ear flapping. But I bit the bullet and told her. She looked askance at me, a pronounced aura engulfed question mark appearing above her head, and did, indeed, make the expected utterences, eg; are you sure you weren't dreaming?- maybe you imagined it because you miss him;- et al and etc,-etc,- and, oh yes, did I mention,'etc'?
I told her I didn't imagine it and, after a brief exchange of maybes, I discontinued our conversation.

It ain't over yet!

When Chico the Wonder Dog was alive and needed to go outside in a hurry at night, he came to my side of the bed and barked, not loudly but sharply. I always awoke and got up and let him out. He never went to Donna's side to go out, only mine.
On this fateful night, I awoke to hear that bark; because of that bark. I knew immediately it was Chico the Wonder Dog talking to me from his station in Doggie Heaven and I did the expected ritual, I arose and walked to the sliding glass door and pushed it open. I was awake and aware he wasn't really there, at least not in the flesh, but I felt much better after doing the expected.

I mentioned this to mi espousa (a bit more Mex lingo there) after we de-bedded that morning and she said, "uh-huh," and let it go at that.

Now for the good part.-

A few mornings later, Donna and I were sitting before our 36" Sony HD TV, watching the national news being repeated almost verbatim for the third day. I detected a slightly faraway like look about her expected comportment and queried her as to the root of her unusually vague and reticent demeanor.

Donna looked at me almost quizzically and said, "I heard Chico the Wonder Dog whine at the side of my bed this morning." If she expected me to be surprised, she was paddling in the wrong pool. I asked her what happened and she reminded me about what our boy usually did after I left our bed and headed for the chair for the night.

He would wait to see that I meant to stay in the chair for the balance of the night, then he would go to Donna's side of the bed and whine softly until she helped him into the bed with her.

I feel better now, since Donnas revelation about her own visit from Chico the Wonder Dog. Now I know she believes me and doesn't think I am a screwball or worse.

That was more than two weeks ago and Chico the Wonder Dog hasn't been back again. I guess he got his visit in.

This all is true and really happened but you can take it as you wish. I feel better now, having related it openly.

Later...

My Prayer...

"Please, Lord, don't allow another Bush to be president. Next time, if there is a next time, send us a real Republican instead!"

In Jesus Name, Amen...

Later...