Hme Sweet Home.....

Christmas past. John is sitting in the family room, under our clock, and beside of TV. This room is not very big, actually I wish it were larger. Perhaps we have just put so much stuff in the room that there appears to be no room.
You see my coon skin cap.

I got that in Canada. I had always wanted one. In the '50's Davy Crockett was all the craze, and kids wore coon skin caps, or if you could not afford to have a cap, you had your hair cut in the shape of a coon skin cap. I didn't want to do that.

May it ever be so humble, this is home.
Growing up, I had but one desire, and that was to find a place and stay put. My father was a nomad at heart. The longest we ever spent in one place was six years. You began to hold your breath as the sixth year aproached. If the Church was not going as he thought it should, he was ready to move on. He took the advice of Paul very seriously;" One plants, one waters, and God gives the increase." Dad did a lot of planting, but he never stayed for the harvest. I always thought that he left too soon. But what did I know, I was just the son.

I once took Carol on a tour of all of the churches Dad had been pastor of. We created turmoil. People saw us, and thought he was coming back. He only did that once.

The most disappointing church was the Williamson church. It had been a factory, Dad and the elders bought the building, turned it into a church. I watched as the building was transformed.
I watched painters paint a Biblical pictorial of Jesus near some water, a river. I did not realize it then, but I should have paid more attention to the detail of the man's work. I watched the building of the baptistry, even floated my boats in the water. I came back thirty some odd years later, and nothing had changed.

I've been here over 33 years. I now get the wander lust, wondering where would be best to live, but I doubt if I will get that opportunity.

The Holidays

The holidays, time for family , food, and enjoying good camaraderie. Here is a picture of Christmas past. Carol, her Sister-in-Law preparing the feast. The naked bird in the pan, and on the table ready to be basted, and oven baked, the bird.

This Thanksgiving it was time to go to Jefferson City to visit the other relatives. The Cousins. The cousins, and their children, and their children. It was a three hour drive, but we had good weather , and all went well. We had a good time.

I have no pictures of Winter, but Winter , she is

coming. Yesterday, it was a balmy 72 degrees out, and today it is in the 30's with a spattering of snow. It won't stick, it is just a taste of what is to come.

Tomorrow, we go to Jefferson City. I don't care if it is cold, just so long as it does not rain or snow. The forecast has not predicted either for tomorrow. If there is, we may not go.

I do not know why I am so anzious to be in JC, but I am. I have not seen these people in some time. I like them, but they are not really all that close. But, they are the closest thing I have to family. Carol and I were discussing this today at supper. My immediate family; Mom is in the Home, she has Alzhimer's, Dad dead, my cousins are meaner than stripped snakes, except for my Aunt June's Kids, and their children. Far far away are they. I was telling Carol that if you wanted to visit them in Big Stone Gp, Virginia, you really had to want to visit them. To say that they are isolated, not now, but when we were growing up would not be stretching the truth.

Ah Nature

I have a friend who is good with Nature. She cultivates flowers, and loves the anmals, and all of the forest. I'm not that much of a romantic. Well, she would call herself a realist. She accepts death as a reality of life. Boy, talk about a contradiction. This is a flower from her garden, and a butterfly stopped by to do what a butterfly does.

This is going to be short.

My Ambition

In the fourth Grade, I stumbled upon an ambition. In the Fourth Grade, Andy Schlagle wrote a story about two squirrels who happened to be dectectives. From this far back, I cannot recall much of the story, but it spurred me on to want to write.

I am led to believe that Andy never did pursue his God given talent. And, at last died being an unpublished author.

You can see that if you tell people that you are a writer, you gain immediate respect. Of course, the first question asked is,"Well what have you written?"

If you are completely honest, you say,"Well, I am an unpublished author. The reaction to this statement is usually mixed. The thought being," Well, if you are unpublished, how can you call yourself a writer?" I would contend that even though unpublished if I had ever written anything, I would still be an author.

Walt Bodine, a local author says;"Writing is easy, all you do is open up a vein and bleed." Some do at that. However, I look upon it as a way to earn bread without breaking into a sweat.

Stories I would like to relate....

More Gloom,

You could look at this picture and say that there is perhaps hope expressed here, or you could intrepid the picture to show dispair. Oh, there is a light at the end of the tunnel, but is it the sun or is it just a train coming down the track? Today is a warm gloomy day. It is too warm for November. Blame it on global warming. I have.



Carol again did not sleep, and is in constant pain, and I don't know what to do for her, and her doctor doesn't know either. I wish we did.



I have several concerns; I have Mom's house to sell, The market is so depressed, I am afraid that the only way to handle this situation is to wait. Carol can't live there, she could never make it up the stairs at night. We would have to make a bed in the living room, and she would never get out. I would not completely blame Charles for this mess, but he seems to want to dominate every situation he finds himself in, even if it is not his to dominate.



Meryl, my old neighbor used to aggravate me to no end, and when I moved out, he discovered that there are worse ass holes in this world than he. That's right, Charles. Anyway, Charles is always saying that Timbercrest is on the way out because of rental property. The By-Laws specifically prohibit this, but it is being done anyway. Meryl tried to get Charles to sign a petition to stop this practice, but he would not sign it. Hell, he never was the owner, Mom was, and when she went into the Home, the house came to me. But, M did not know this. He came whining to me, and I told him to give me the paper, I would sign it, which I did. If i were over there, I would clean out all of those nestors. They do not pay for the maintenance upkeep of the place. I would guard this place as if it were a palace. You have the force of the law in your hands. And they are not using it. I know, Charles just throws up his hands and walks away.



One more incident. Charles does pay his maintenance fees, and so when carpendar ants were found in the banaster around the deck, he does not let maintentance fix it, he does it himself, then presents poor Meryl with a bill. He did this twice, and the first time to avoid a hassel, he paid it, but I told him not to pay this other bill. It was he who called off the work.



Mom married for the wrong reason. She thought Charles would create security, but he is in worse shape than she, and she was not doing very well. Then, he places what available money he does have into the stupid farm. This farm was a folly. When he was younger, his first wife did not want to have a farm. The kids did not want to have a farm. For years, the land lay vacant, but once, he and Mom were married, he began to buld on this piece of land. he is now too old to work the land, and what is he going to do but hand it over to his kids. And, they will gladly sell the house and land, and divide up the procedes. He has been a thorn in my side for the past fivteen years.

More later....

Here is my picture. I never do take a good picture.

I have several fears; time, I am obsessed with time, freedom,I hate being confined, and closely behind that I don't know, just let me relate my dream.

I was in a room waiting for an operation. On my ears, I do believe. I was in this room, there were no clocks, I remember everything was brown. although the door had a glass panneling it was covered up with a brown curtain. and I was waiting. I do not know why I was waiting, but I was waiting alone. The longer I waited, the more anxious I became, until finally I just said, "Enough, I am going home!" And then I woke up. There was something about a boxer, who was trying to be interviewed while he was in the ring. I do not recall all of that. Anyway, it 3was a very unsettling dream.

I will write more later.....