This is kind of a silly thing to post, but I stepped out the front door a few minutes ago and it was raining lightly, very little traffic (I live on a busy street) and the park always looks pretty when it's empty. I thought what a perfect day to sit on the big covered porch and work on a crossword puzzle or something. I made a very short video so I could share with you my perfect porch day (you can hear the rain). In that cooler are all of my favorite poisons; I think I shall partake for the rest of the day. I wonder if the rain will make the fireworks fizzle tonight.
After the trip to Ontario, the kids and I went to a beautiful recreation lake in the northern part of the state for some boating fun. This is where Grandson Sam became such a great fisherman. Those in attendance were me, son Ryan, his babymama (lol) Angie, (they never married but they stayed close), Sam, and Shit Richard.
Richard is the dad of Ryan's highschool buddy that Ryan adopted as sort of a second father, his own dad being passed away. The rest of us consider Richard a friend, so he is often included in the family gatherings. He has this habit of instead of saying "Well, I'll be damned..." or "Well, whattya know..." like most people, he addresses himself by saying, "Well shit, Richard." In fact, he does it a lot. In context it would go something like this:
"I was at the store looking for a good deal on beer, so when I saw my favorite brand 5 dollars off, I said, 'Well shiiiiit, Richard...' and bought 2 cases."
So I call him Shit Richard.
Anyway, we all got burnt up before the weekend was over but we had a blast. There's a large sandbar in the middle of this fairly deep lake where the water is only about 4 feet deep. Everyone anchors there and parties, as did we. Here are some pics. Don't make fun of my fat self...I'm still not smoking. I have lots of video and I plan to compile a short montage of the fun and sights/sounds. I will add it to this post when it gets done. I know the kids will come to see it here.
This is my favorite of the bunch; it has become my new screensaver/desktop:
What a Face Jenkins he is...
The sundeck got a lot uf use.
and as much as I hate this,
Borrowing the closing sentence of almost every Field Trial Secretary's report,
"...and a good time was had by all."
With 2 trips to Ontario and a weekend on the lake with my kids and grandson, I have so many more interesting things to post, but this I had to get on here. Too good. For one thing, having my sons clear all this brush without me asking them to, but secondly, the way they have fun together -- even doing something as choresome as this. Of course, plenty of cold beer on hand helps. I knew the 5 year difference in their ages wouldn't matter one day, lol. By the way, the bald one, Paul, is the youngest (28).
Besides his Jeep and his Harley, Ryan has always been proud of his old Suburban. It just seems to go and do what no other vehicle does. It's his workhorse, no doubt.
I had a couple of busy bees in both the front and back yards yesterday.
I'm a little tardy about posting from the last trip to Ontario, but it was a good one. Besides attending Okill's reunion banquet, Mr. U saw to it that I got to run dogs a couple of times, we hosted a small dinner party at his place - lots of laughs, good food and wine. And, we did another one of my favorite things; we had dinner at a riverside restaurant. I could never tire of looking at the St. Lawrence.
It was really pretty awesome to be there when those two old friends saw each other again, the first time in 30 or so years. Here's the video:
And here's a pic from the dinner party. All eight of us around the small table, but we didn't feel crowded in the least.
Good times.
...and then I will try to blog regularly. I have so much to say, but it seems I can't have more than 4 big things running at once in my life anymore, something always gets short-sheeted.
I am heading back up to Ontario in the morning. Compliments of Mr. U, he and I will be attending a dinner event at the Glen House honoring an old beagling friend of his. When I say old, I mean 88 years old. It just so happens I wrote an article on Mr. Okill Stuart in this last beagle stud book I just finished. Besides being a prominant beagler, Okill is a Canadian war veteran who stormed the shores of Normandy with the allied troops back in 1944, at the age of 23. Canadian TV did a nice telephone interview with him last Saturday, showing footage of the troops coming ashore. He and another Canadian veteran were being honored His recount of that was pretty fascinating, and he is still quite articulate. Judging by fashion, here's a picture of Okill taken back in the seventies; he's the tall fella on the right. (Mr U is the young man in the center)
I don't know if this link will work, but this is the photo and caption by the Associated Press from Sunday. I will post it separately to give credit:
Okill Stuart D-Day 65 years later.
Canadian D-Day veteran Okill Stuart (centre), 88, of Saint-Lambert, Que., takes a moment as he he is joined by other veterans to take part in a ceremony in the Memorial Garden of the Abbaye d'Ardenne during continued ceremonies to mark the 65th anniversary of D-Day landings and the Battle of Normandy in France, on Sunday June 7, 2009. Stuart's rank was Bombardier, 14th Canadian Field Regiment, RCA.(AP Photo/The Canadian Press, Sean Kilpatrick)
For anyone interested in such, here is a link to the video and his interview (I don't know how long they will keep it up to view):
Our event this Saturday is a yearly reunion of sorts of those D-Day survivors in Okill's troop. I believe there are seven this year. I'm honored to be able to meet him, shake his hand, and present him with a copy of the magazine containing the article on him as a Hall of Fame Beagler.
I have been so neglectful of my fellow Voxers and my own blog, but that will change soon. I am one week away from submitting my annual Beagle Book to the printer, and this one, for some reason, has been a bitch to finish. I have all kinds of stuff to post, but I've got to get this project out of the way first so I can enjoy it.
In the meantime, here's an adorable pic of mine and Mr. U's dogs that was taken May 2 in Ontario:
Yes, I am still on the rollercoaster.
See y'all soon,
Scorpy
If you had to teach something, what would you teach?
Ever since I was a senior in high school, I've always thought if I were to volunteer anything on a regular basis, it would be to teach illiterate adults to read. I've always felt that it would open the entire world up to those who by whatever circumstance, never learned to read. And not so much that they would then be able to sit and take in a great work by John Steinbeck, but imagine everything you see to your right and left each day that has letters written on it, and not knowing what any of it says.
Why are stupid people elected into public office? Why do stupid people operate under misconceptions like banning handguns and making gun ownership illegal being the answer to reduced violence? It's the criminal element that causes violence, not the law-abiding. Could nobody predict what would happen when guns were taken from the law abiding? That it would have the opposite effect? Really? Did they expect the criminals would show up on Gun Surrendering Day and hand over their own personal stash...so they wouldn't get in trouble? And who are all the rhetoric-swallowing sheep that keep supporting this type of ignorant legislation and the people who write it?
I expect the same type of sausage logic would have the government debating flat screen TVs:
1. Outlawing all flat-screen plasma TVs so criminals won't be tempted to steal them.
or
2. Making it illegal for TVs to be positioned in front of a window where criminals might see them and be tempted to steal them.
or
3. Making mandatory for all TVs to be chained to the floor and the remotes locked in a cabinet, making it more difficult for a criminal to steal a TV that functions. Afterall, having to break into a separate cabinet for the remote would discourage 37.987% of them.
or
4. Serialize all remote controls and register them with a state agency. If a crime is commited with a remote control, (for example, watching NBC Daytime) it can be traced back to you...even though it was stolen from you a year ago.
There are already people in this country fighting to abolish our Second Amendment rghts. they've been working at it for years. They will be happy to get it done if they come in the back door on another bill. They're hoping to get it done by chipping away tiny little pieces they think nobody would care about, or that e veryone would agree with...such as only banning fully automatic assault rifles. Yeah, they're big and bad, but it should our right to own them. (I can run you down in my car, too.) As long as assault rifles and cars are in existence, the criminals will have them. If they know we also have them, would that not take a bit of their confidence away? We, as intelligent people don't honestly think the police will protect us do we? The police are an "after-the-fact" entity, and the percentage of crookedness within their own ranks is staggering.
One of the recent "back door" efforts to disarm us is to aggressively tax and track ammunition. Since they don't have the muscle to take our guns yet, they are aiming for the ammo. The sample legislation suggests that ammo be "coded" or marked by the manufacturer, and that by 2011 all uncoded, unetched ammo will be disposed of. Gee, that should work, right? For what? I mean to what end? Will it help solve crimes? I read this on another forum, but I can't improve upon it, so here it is:
1. Criminals do not buy guns legally, why would anyone assume bullets would be bought legally.
2. Criminals remove serial numbers I am sure even if the bullets were purchased the casings would be cleaned.
3. Anyone can download how to make bullets online.
4. Any casings you loose at the firing range or elsewhere that you don't collect could be recycled by the wrong hands and ooopsy you end up in jail if your casing is used in a crime.
5. Number coding handgun and assault weapon casings as those are the most used in crimes or easy to hide doesn't do anything about crime other than change the weapon they will use.
Our economy is in ruins right now, and the general public's focus is upon that. It creates a perfect opportunity for back door legislation to slip in unnoticed. Let's not get caught napping like Great Britain did.
Okay, back to my regularly scheduled blogging.
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I was asked a legitimate question of a fellow Voxer about my hunting dogs. My answer would have been too lengthy in a reply, so in case others are curious, or have similar concerns, I will answer it in this fashion:
No offense, but I don't and never have understood having a dog that you keep outside. They are companions. I know your poochies are warm and ok, but it seems cruel to me to keep them away from you, in a box outside!
See, and I think it's cruel that working people keep dogs crated inside all day while they are at work. At least mine can go out into their kennel runs and pee if they need to, lie in the sun...or simply watch the comings and goings. When not working or engaged with humans, most dogs just lie around anyway. They especially like it when they have a perch with a view. I feel like mine also get to be pretty much what they want to be...dogs. That’s not to say they don’t get quality time and attention from me, as you will see in the pictures. They are in no way ignored, isolated, or forgotten in the kennel, but I would feel conceited to think that they only live for my touch or to be in my immediate presence.
I’m not saying pet dog ownership is not justified, because I’ve had many lap-sitting, under-the-covers-with-me-foot-warming, sweet canine rescues in the house during my 53 years, but I’m also a breeder of a working dog. I try very diligently and responsibly to be a good steward of the breed; see that it remains the best it can be, and not be mutated into someone’s novelty. The field trials and the actual hunt are the barometer on which to gauge one’s success at preserving the breed.
My dogs are a pack of true hunting dogs. They are born in my kitchen, literally into my waiting hands; they know my smell and voice from birth. For the same reason, their mothers will allow me to handle the pups if intervention is needed.
But, they are moved outside within 3 weeks. They will learn how to live, sleep, and eat in packs…because they will perform that way when they are grown. They will depend on each other in the kennel, and they will depend on each other in the field. It is natural for them, and not to rear them this way would be a forced culture shock, and it would stunt their true socialization skills – that being, the ability to bed up in strange places and work with other dogs they’ve just met…because it’s what they do. It always leads to fun for them, and they know it.
The type of hunting they do requires them to be out in cold weather, often wet, rugged terrain, for 8 or more hours at a a time, and they must develop a coat for it.
If I keep them indoors they won't develop as much undercoat, they won't adapt to the varying conditions, and they will suffer more because of it. They will struggle at doing the one thing they love more than anything - chasing rabbits and foxes and such. They would rather do that than eat when they're hungry, much less follow me around the house.
If I breed and train dogs for a specific task, I would be remiss in not preparing them, or giving them the tools with which to do it. It would be like sending your kid to the bus stop in January with no gloves, or to school with no breakfast.
We have a "working" relationship, my dogs and I; one in which I let them run their hearts out all day chasing things, and they rest up in between field trips in a safe, warm, kennel box filled with straw - just the very stuff they would choose to bed down on in the wild.
Because they don’t run loose in my backyard without my supervision, they don’t get accidently bred by the neighbor’s housedog, or attacked by one. They are safe. Aside from not allowing them to roam the neighborhood when they aren't hunting, my dogs are truly living the dog's life...I would never ask these particular dogs to live a human's life. It’s just really not their bag.
That being said, I groom them, medicate them, vaccinate them, make special treats for them; I know by the sound of their barks if they are out of water, aggravated with each other, or there's a cat in the yard. They know by the sound of my voice if we are going afield, it's a day of yard play, if I need them to be quiet, or that I want hugs and sloppy kisses from them.
They are my companions...my companions in the field, and we share a common goal when we're out there together. We work together as hunters; we co-exist and are very much bonded that way, but we don't really try to live in each other's world.
This is the best I can do to make you understand.
Underneath all this shit is a PT Cruiser:
...But the hunting dogs are warm and dry, with their heated water bowls and their warming lamps in the sleeping boxes. Besides them being fence escape artists extraordinaire, THIS is the main reason I kennel them above ground, so to all you ignorant neighbors who complain that I keep them in "rabbit hutches"...suck it.
