The first snowfall of the year occurred this weekend. It was the first snow I had seen in several years and I had a great time out walking in the snow. I also enjoyed calling my mom and rubbing in that it was snowing here and not where she was.
The kids couldn't wait to go sledding. This was early the first day before it got deep.
Not a common site at the state park
Winter wonderland
Signs of the season
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I wrote this song before I moved to Malaysia 5 years ago and now that I have moved back to the States it rings even more true. It is about leaving good friends behind and not knowing if and when you will get to see them again. Please remember I am not musical or a singer...just putting my feelings to song.
My father’s birthday is tomorrow so I thought I would regale you with stories from my youth.
Most of you know I grew up on a farm in Oklahoma. We grew wheat, cotton and peanuts and raised cattle and hogs. Lots of people ask me “How many acres did you farm?” and I always have a hard time answering that. Our farms were Simpson’s, Holmes’, the North Farm, “Where we lived”, the 80 and Great-grandmas. That is over 800 acres but not all of it was “broke” (cultivated) ground.
For a while we raised lots of pigs. We had a farrowing house and had several sows. Suffice it to that after a good rain it stank badly around our house.
We would take our pigs to Oklahoma City to the Stockyards to sell them. If I remember right, Justin and I were in school and Adam was too young to be in school one particular year. My dad would take Adam to the Stockyards and sell the pigs and then stop at Hydro on the way home, mainly to put the money in the bank. Across the street was what used to be known as a “5 and dime”. For some reason the first trip to the Stockyards that year he and Adam went across the street to the store and bought each one of us boys a tape. These tapes were produced by Fisher-Price and were stories, fairytales or retelling of historical events.
If I remember right, I would get a history one, like Ben Franklin, Justin a story one like Tom Sawyer and Adam a fairytale like Jack and the Beanstalk. We spent hours listening to those cassettes and I still remember scenes from them. In fact, I think we had them pretty much memorized word for word!
Was there every any real hope for me not to love history? I’ve always appreciated the fact my dad bought those tapes because it wasn’t anyone’s birthday or Christmas, he was just doing it because he loved us.
Most kids love it when they get out of school. When I got out of school, especially my freshman and sophomore years in high school, it just meant we went to work in the fields. My brothers were in a different school that had a later release date, plus they were younger, so that meant it was just my dad and I out in the fields everyday.
The start of school holidays also marked the start of the planting season. We needed to get the cotton and peanuts planted so that we could move on to the task of wheat harvest in late May or early June.
We would wait for a good rain and then as soon as the field was tillable, my dad and I would head out to plant. I would drive one tractor with a ‘crustbuster’ hitched behind it. A crustbuster cuts a wide swath, 20 feet or so, and its many long metal teeth break up the soil and prepare an appropriate planting bed.
My dad would drive my grandfather’s cabless tractor, my grandfather’s 4010 John Deere, if memory serves me correct. Both cotton and peanuts were planted in long rows. Behind the tractor was an implement called a planter. The planter had four hoppers, which were tall metal cylinders that held the seed. Behind and below the hopper was a wheel, which, when the planter was lowered via hydraulics rolled along the ground. This turned gears under the hopper and allowed seeds to fall one by one from the hopper. These seeds fell straight down through a tube and came out between two metal discs. These discs, when lowered to the ground, made a furrow that the seed fell into. Remember that wheel? It then rolled over the furrow and covered the seed.
Crustbusting was much faster than planting. I could finish a field in a couple of hours but the planting might take 12 or more for the same ground. Once I was finished, my job was to sit in the pick-up at the end of the rows. My dad would plant four rows down, then four rows back while I waited in the pick-up. When he got back, he would raise the planter, after which I would turn the wheels to cause the seed to fall onto the ground to make sure the seed was falling freely between the discs . Sometimes the fall would be blocked by mud or clods of dirt. I would then fill the hoppers with more seed and my dad would set off again.
Every few rounds, my dad would get down off the tractor and we would go to the last row he had planted. Kneeling in the soft brown dirt, we would dig to find a few of the seeds. We were checking to make sure the spacing was far enough that the plants wouldn’t choke each other out but not so far that very few plants would populate the field. We would also check to confirm the depth of the seed was appropriate. Too deep and it would never sprout. Too shallow and it would be washed away or never sprout as well.
One year in particular I remember that “Kokomo” was a song I listened to a lot in the pick-up as I waited for the tractor to complete its circuit. We finished the last field, Hudsons, after probably 10 days of planting. They were long days, sometimes 12 hours long. I just remember it was hard work.
After the last rows were planted, my dad parked the tractor and headed back to the last few rows he had planted. I followed him and we knelt there together in the bright late afternoon light. The pungent smell of tilled ground was strong as he started to dig up the last seeds of the planting season. Satisfied with their depth and placement, he reached up and took off his dirty-covered hat and looked at me. “Let’s pray for the crop” he said. I took off my hat and together we bowed our heads and prayed for God to bless the work of our hands and bring about a bountiful harvest by bringing timely rains and to keep the insects and disease at bay.
I like to think we had a bumper crop that year.
I’m sure my father barely remembers kneeling on Hudson’s farm that day or those cassettes but I do. Happy Birthday Dad!
I heard two good quotes this week, the first from my new job at a middle school.
Student to his friend as they were leaving the cafeteria: "Dude, there is no way you could beat me as a level 66 paladin because I'm a level 65 shadow priest."
Michaelangelo: "I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free." Michaelangelo's response when asked how he could carve an exquisite angel statue from a mere block of stone.
I used the term "derring-do" with my friends the other day and they thought I was weird. Hmmm, that happens a lot! Anyway, I argued that lots of people knew what derring-do meant. None of the 8 people we polled knew the definition. So, I am trying to get a larger sample to find vindication. Please take the two seconds to vote!!!!
The other day I was in the grocery store picking out tomatoes when I realized I am my father’s son. I didn’t realize it that weird way when you are 18 and you say something that just slips out and then you cry, “NO!” because you realize it is exactly what your mom or dad would have said in that same situation. This time it just made me smile.
My dad likes sandwiches. On the farm, us boys used to help out during the summer while it was school holidays. At noon we would head back to the house for lunch (usually while listening to Paul Harvey!). Sometimes mom would cook but so many of the meals were sandwiches. Not meat and bread sandwiches but Dagwoods, with thick cut tomatoes that dripped onto your napkin with every bite you took and the napkin by the end. Come to think of it, my dad should have a show on the Food Network showing how to make homemade French fries and sandwiches. It would be a hit.
So there I was, in the produce section, hand-selecting the expensive tomatoes. You know, those vine-ripened ones from the hot house that cost twice as much as the other varieties. Then it hit me, this is what dad does, buys these same tomatoes, because only the best tomatoes should be on a sandwich. Here I was doing exactly the same thing because I missed sandwiches so bad in Malaysia.
My parents have had huge impacts on my life. I had both of them as teachers and as I pursue teaching as a career, I can’t think of finer examples to follow. My mom was teacher of the year last year and the hours she puts in are amazing. If only those kids knew the number of nights she falls asleep grading papers in front of the TV.
I had my father for world history and algebra one, so my memories of his class are much stronger. I had such a poor high school education and his classes stand out as one of the bright spots. I still know the Vietnam War, from the Gulf of Tonkin Resolution to the Tet Offensive to Operation Rolling Thunder and General Westmoreland because of my father, not because of a great university class.
I told a friend yesterday one person I admire in history is Hannibal Barca (not the fictional mass murderer, the general from Carthage). “Your weird,” he said. I still remember mom and dad helping me with that sixth grade term paper on Hannibal. If I’m weird he can blame my parents.
As I watch my friends raise their two-year old daughter, I see them striving to be good parents. But I want to tell them they already are good parents. No parent is perfect, even mine weren’t. Good parents try, they spend time with their kids, they share experiences, they ask for help. What a hard job, where the object of your affection may never, ever turn to you and thank you for all those days you worked so they could have a better life.
Thanks mom and dad, for sandwiches and so much more.
I have a few Canadian friends and a question I have asked on a few occasions is, "Who do you feel is the greatest Canadian?" Usually their attempts at an honest answer are interrupted by my annoying interjections of, "Is it Shania Twain or Nelly Furtado?" Anyway, I found a poll online and it was helpful for me to know a few Canadian greats, so, on this day, Canadian Thanksgiving, I offer you the list of the Greatest Canadians.
I have played lots of games in my day. Card games, games with people in circles, board games, geocaching (is that a game?), organised sports and the list goes on and on. A few years back I was introduced to a game that I consider to the the funniest I have ever played. This game doesn't have a name that I know of, so I call it the sentence-draw-fold game.
It goes like this. Every person gets a blank piece of paper, with or without lines is unimportant. Everyone writes their name at the very bottom of the paper. Then each participant writes a sentence at the top of the paper. It can be anything you want but just a single thought encapsulated in one sentence. It shouldn't be too long either.
Second, once your sentence is complete, you pass the paper to your left or right. The direction doesn't matter, as long as everyone passes the same direction, i.e. to their left. Now you have a new piece of paper with a sentence written at the top. Now the real fun begins. You read the sentence and then you must draw the sentence in a picture just below the sentence. So, if the sentence is, "A man is driving a car", you draw that just below the original sentence. You don't want to draw it too big, because the paper should be passed and drawn or written on several times but draw large enough so that the picture can be understood.
Once you are finished drawing, you have to fold the paper. Your paper should have a sentence at the top and a picture just below it. Fold your paper where the next person can see ONLY your picture, not the original sentence. The original sentence must be obscured by the fold but the picture must be visible. Now, pass your paper to the next person on your left (if that is the way you are passing).
Now you will get a paper with a fold and a picture. Looking at the picture, write a sentence that you feel encapsulates the picture. Then, fold the paper to cover the picture and leave only your sentence showing. Now pass to your left for the next person to draw under the sentence. Draw, fold, pass. Write, fold, pass.
When your original paper finishes the circuit (you know this because you wrote your name at the bottom of the page) you may unfold the page and begin guffawing. The game usually works best if each person gives a short presentation of their original sentence and the various evolutions it went through. I am not kidding, you will laugh during this part.
Here are a few examples to show why (It may help to click on the picture so you can enlarge it and see it better):
This one was going well until I got a hold of it. Somehow my frightened princess was mistaken for a frog and my knight for a space alien. Can you believe it?
Last Saturday I went geocaching with my friend Dave. (Just as a note, if your name is Dave you may want to be my friend because I have one uncle and at least three friends named Dave.)
Geocaching is a little like organized treasure-hunting. First, someone goes out and hides a 'cache'. Then they go home and get on the internet. They record the GPS coordinates of the cache and a few details (if they want to) including clues about where the cache is hidden. Then, you go to www.geocaching.com and find those coordinates and clues and go out with your handheld GPS to find the cache.
The cache is usually a Tupperware-type container. Inside are small trinkets and a logbook. You sign the logbook and if you choose, take a trinket and put a new trinket of your own in the container. Items such as travel bugs and special coins can also be in the cache. These are special items and you are expected to log the fact that you found it and then you can't keep it but you must put it in a different cache. Some of these coins and travel bugs have goals, such as making it to a certain location etc.
Dave and I had coordinates on 5 caches and we found 4 of them. We speculate that the fifth was found by 'muggles', a term stolen from Harry Potter meaning non-geocachers as the cache was probably just beside the trail. I say probably because we never found it and can only speculate.
I found geocaching was great fun and an enjoyable way to spend a few hours out traipsing around in the woods. Many caches are in neighborhood parks but some are extremely remote. And, for you Malaysians, there are also caches in that part of the world as well. Happy hunting!
I bought a new car last week, a Mazda 626, 1997 model with 123,000 miles, or a Mahzda as my Canadian friend calls it. (FYI, the Canadian dollar pulled even with the US dollar last week. Thought you should know.)
I hate buying cars. Why do we allow the practice of car selling to continue as it does in the USA? For me it is the same as going to the corner store for a tube of toothpaste. The tube has a list of features on the price tag and then the price of $12. A salesperson talks to you about the chloride etc and even lets you brush once with the toothpaste. Then you offer $3 for the toothpaste and they "go to bat" for you against their manager, to get him/her to agree to the lower price. (Please!!! Honestly, I once had a sales lady use this term when I wouldn't sign a hastily scrawled contract saying I would buy the car if she could get the trade price for my pickup that I wanted)
Eventually, you pay $6.50 for the the toothpaste, plus tag, title and tax ($8.12 out the door). As you sit on your hemmorhoid donut on the way home, you manage to convince yourself you paid the right price for the toothpaste.
Why is this legal? Can't they just markup cars like they markup products at any store and tell you the price? Why should the price you pay be contingent on your ability to 'drive a hard bargain'?
Anyway, I paid $3500 (out the door, or on the road as they say in MY) for my car and feel that is an OK price. No bargain, mind you, but I don't think I got taken. If you think otherwise, please don't tell me and allow me to live the delusion that is my life. Thanks for you cooperation.
Nudibranch
Clown frogfish. There are two of them. I only noticed that after I looked at the photo because my dive master was in such a hurry.
A huge school of jack or big-eye trevally.
Giant frogfish-yes there is a fish in this picture.
Purple-fringed flatworm.
This turtle was in Mataking but you see about 8-10 turtles PER DIVE in Sipadan.
My dive buddy, Rombout (a Dutch guy who was staying at Seaventures).
Whitetip reef shark resting in the current. There are lots of these at Sipadan, sometimes you can see 10 or more on a single dive. And no, not dangerous or aggressive, unless you are trying to eat bloody, raw steak.I was hanging out with a 5 year old this weekend who was pretending he was a rhinoceros named Donald. I composed a short limerick about Donald:
There is a fellow named Donald the Rhino
He's the cleverest rhino that I know
He knows loads about bugs
And a bit about slugs
Plus he can fold a mean origami dino
I was then challenged to rhyme it using rhinoceros, so here goes.
There an adventurer named Donald the Rhinoceros
Who had as a goalto swim the Bosporus
As he swam along
He composed a song
And as a result became quite prosperous.
I'm visiting friends before I leave Malaysia and I spent the morning and afternoon out on a little bike ride through the kampung (village) down to a beach about 6 km from their house.
First, I was riding and older style bike. Really cool looking but by the time I started back it was killing me in the you know what. The ride was really nice when I started out but I took a long time. The kampung is very rural but there are houses everywhere and they are in no kind of order. It's as if God took his Monopoly set and turned it upside down. Houses fell everywhere and then the roads were traced through the empty places. So, the road meanders this way and that and you have do idea if your on the main road or one that dead ends at a clump of houses. This meant that I would head down a path and just hope it was the main one. Needless to say I made lots of U-turns. It was very fun at first to meet people and ask directions but on the way back, it was hot and about 2 pm and I just wanted a shower.
Definitely a fun ride. Here are some pictures from the adventure.
My faithful steed
Kites for sale on the beach
A couple of months ago I wrote about a song called "Ipoh Mali" in a post called "The Surreal World".
I recently found the video for Ipoh Mali on YouTube, so here it is in all its glory.
Here in Malaysia the elections are getting close but actually it is just a guess. The Malaysian system works like this: the party in power can call for an election at anytime but they must do so within five years of the last election. The current prime minister, Abdullah Badawi was elected on October 31, 2003.
Why do I think there is an upcoming vote now?
Malaysia does not have freedom of the press. In fact, newspapers are owned by political parties here. This entire week the front page of The Star, the main English daily, has been trumpeting the benefits of the Northern Corridor project and how great a city Penang will be once all the new plans have been implemented. It seems suspicious to me (although not completely out of the ordinary) to have of this publicity of what a great job the government is doing. (Isn't that generally what any government is supposed to do?)
If there is an election, there will be an announcement and then in two weeks the vote. Also, a flag will blossom from every pole, tree and house in the country, flying their party's colors.
My prediction is a vote before Jan 1, 2008.
I wish the USA would adopt some of these political measures. Wouldn't it be great if there were, say, two months of campaigning and then the primaries, then two more months and the general election? I would love to see just two weeks but I'm trying to put forward a feasible plan. The primaries are months off in the States and still candidates are campaigning and have been doing so for months. Don't these people have jobs?
I do appreciate free speech in America when compared with Malaysia. Actually, both can learn from the other. Malaysians should ask a few more hard hitting and piercing questions and Americans should learn to respect a person's position and title just a bit.
Just a last thought here: Yesterday's Star showed the future of Penang, which includes this "global convention centre" with two malls and two five star hotels. Penang's population is about 500,000-600,000 and can't even support the 6 malls that we currently have, why in the world do we need more? Komtar can't even be considered a mall anymore, it is so nasty and vacant since Prangin Mall went in next door. Oh well, I guess that is the definition of 'development', --more malls.
Sorry these posts are in such a random order, this obviously happened before I went to Hong Kong, it is just that it took along time to upload to youtube.
The gist is that I went sledding, on inflatable pool toys, with my friends, in July, in 80 degree weather on Mt. Baker. Enjoy the photos and video.
I'm like a bird
Trekking back up the hill after a ride down
Tara!!!!
SuperNikki
Erek contemplates his path down
TopCat even got in the act
The choo-choo train leaving the station
Typical shot of Hong Kong harbor.
View from the Peak, err, mall at night.
Tai Chi on the promenade.
Neon Chinese
Mt. Rainier looms in the distance.
Alpine lake
I think this is Mt. NachesToday I saw a girl smelling her hair as she walked down the street. Since I have no idea why a person would do this, I thought I would ask you, my all-knowing reader.
Question: Why was the girl walking down the street smelling her hair?
Please choose an answer multiple choice style.
Answers:
A) She was very pleased with her new Herbal Essence “Orange Blossom” shampoo.
B) Some people twiddle their thumbs when bored, others smell their hair.
C) It was simply a sign that Coke a Cola’s “Original Formula” hair powder should not be approved by the FDA.
D) She is an egotistical maniac in love with her long, luscious, great-smelling hair.
E) Even bad smelling hair smells better than the Oklahoman standing next to her, staring crazily at her.
F) ????
Submit your answers in the comment section.
I have been traveling and writing stuff, random things, so get ready for a flurry of posts that have no real connection.
Random thoughts: Easy to get internet anywhere in the USA...Asia not so easy. Hong Kong has this PCCW network but you have to pay. Why can't we standardize the electrical plugs around the world. And why can't the USA just cave in and go to the metric system. I will run for President in 2012 with these two matters as my platform.
The real post:
A few years ago, there was a summer blockbuster. It also happens to be one of my most hated movies. Armageddon. How in the world did this movie not do anything but flop? I also remember that summer the movie “Deep Impact” came out as well and was a much better take on the whole ‘giant asteroid hits the earth’ theme.
What made Armageddon bad? 1. Lots of hype 2. Most of the action sequences involve the old ‘Star Trek’ staple of a shaking camera and people falling around in a spaceship 3. Clichéd characters—the Russian cosmonaut, the outlaw oil driller 4. Clichéd plot—the good of the many outweighs the good of the one 5. A theme song that rivaled “My Heart Must Go One” for most overplayed song of all time (“I Don’t Want To Miss A Thing”) All this equals a movie that should have bombed as badly as “Waterworld”.
One other thought on movies. I caught “John Q” the other day and I still think that movie would have been much better if they had allowed John to give his heart rather than make the movie the typical happy Hollywood ending. So much for original ideas.
I celebrated July 4th last night with friends in Bellingham. We watched the fireworks from the bay at a yacht. I took pictures of the fireworks show over the bay which I will share with you. It gets dark so late this far north. The fireworks started at 10:30 and it wasn't completely dark (still a glimmer of twilight) until after 11. The sun comes up at the crack of dawn as well!
