TWas a Few Days Before Christmas.

Miandmiksmom wrote her version, so I thought I'd write my own version.

Twas a few Days before Christmas, I'm sitting at work.
I ain't bought a thing, I'm going berserk.

My Mexican Bridge crew went home for year,
I'm stuck in the office, bored to the tear.

Zachy's been sick, a bad case of the croups.
And the Mexican eatin' gave me the poops.

Cindy's been hustling, picking up my slack
baking and crafting and filling Santa's Sack.

The weather outside is snowy and cold.
I hurt my back and I'm feeling real old.

The 12 hour trip home, I don't think we'll make
Missing our families makes makes my heart ache.

Decisions Decisions, over a number of things:
From what job to take, to what Santa will Bring.

I'm missing the Christmas from when I was a boy,
anxious and sleepless over lots of new toys.

Missing the days with not much to buy
Missing my family about makes me cry.

With all the frustration I just about cave,
I'm loosing touch with that happy fun Dave.

When deep in my heart a pitter and patter
a warmth raises up above all the clatter.

A thought fills my mind that fills me with peace
The anger, frustration and sadness does cease.

The thought of a baby, back two thousand years
who's birth was for told by prophets and seers.

A babe that was perfect in every which way
Who would suffer and die and for sins he would pay.

Oh how would it be to look in his eyes,
to hold him, to hug him, to comfort his cries?

The thought of this birth warms up my soul
mends up my heart and makes it a whole.

So if your like me at the end of your rope
Think of the Savior and you'll find some hope.

With all the bustle, it makes me feel right.
so Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night.

My Hunt

In my last entry I made a few predictions, I don't have a lot of time to tell the story but the short and dirty of it is that I was within 10 minutes of each prediction. The weather was mean and nasty and I didn't get my bull out until noon Saturday. These are pictures of my little bull and my little man. I will admit that the bull is not a big bull, but if you have ever been elk hunting you can appreciate that I shot it without putting more hours into the hunt than 2 hours. It was the last day of the hunt and I wouldn't pass up the opportunity. I have also included a picture of my little boy to compensate for my small bull. This pic was taken on the way to the barn to look at my bull.

Have a nice day.

Another Friday. Another Long Friday.

I guess it isn't too long. I am taking off at noon to go Elk Hunting. It is really cold today so it should make for some good hunting. It has been cold all week. In about 45 mins I will be sighting my 300 Ultra Mag in. In about 3 hours I will be aiming at an elk and In about 3 hours and 5 seconds I will be pulling the trigger on an elk and in about3 hours and 2 minutes I will be gutting and elk and in about 4 hours I will begin draggin my elk to the truck, and in about 20 hours I will have it to the truck, and then I will be done.

Oh yeah and It will be cold. It is almost noon at it is only 19 degrees F.

I hope everyone has a nice weekend.

Pay it forward

I Just recieved a Southern Gift in the mail from Miandmiksmom, and I guess I better play the game as well. So here goes.

If you are one of the first three to comment you will receive a fun little gift from me! Here are the rules:You must be one of the first 3 people to comment requesting to join the exchange.The only thing you have to do in return is "pay it forward" by making the same promise to 3 people on your blog. (So, you must have a blog to participate.)
If you are one of the first three, please send me your mailing address to:dgr@entechusa.net

Get it on.

I don't know if I have 3 readers anymore??

Iv'e been snowed out, so the bridge process will be on hold until after the Holiday. So I thought that I would post a few pictures of my bridge project so you can see what I have been up to for the last month. I have been enjoying the work and it has been nice to be out of the office. Perhaps I will even be able to post something with some substance later today.

Somedays we have bad days at the bridge.

Somedays we have cold days.

Somedays we have warm days. (This is the old bridge that we are replacing)

The view from the bridge site is spectacular.

Juan is the guy in the middle.

Juan+Snakes=No Bueno

Crane+Powerlines=No Bueno

Every day at lunch we have a Fiesta. I bring the Deer Meat, the crews bring the rest.

Mexican Fiesta+Dave=Bueno

I guess I didn't post many pictures of the construction. I will do that later. I have been loving the work. I have forgotten how long the days can actually be inside the office.

Thanksgiving

I don't imagine that during my absence that I have retained any of my blog readers but I think that I will write a few things that I am thankful for.



I'm Thankful for God. It amazes me that the Most significant of anything significant is aware of someone as insignificant as I am. It amazes me that He hears everything I say and is aware of everything that I do, and still manages to give me a certain feeling of peace and a certain feeling that tells me he loves me.

I'm Thankful for Jesus Christ who lived a life to give me a perfect example, loved me enough to suffer for my sins, and lived again so that I could conquer death. I don't understand it all but my feelings give me enough reason to believe in it.

I'm Thankful for my Family. I'm thankful for a Wife that is patient, funny, loving, a good mother, beautiful, smart, and a best friend who brings sunshine into the dark parts of my life. A wife that after 8 years I am still madly in love with. I'm Thankful for a little boy that lifts my heart every time I see him and helps me feel a love that I would have never comprehended before. I'm thankful for Parents that never gave me a bad example, never made me feel unloved, never fought in front of me, and never gave up on me even when I did. I'm thankful for Brothers that I can talk to, hunt with, fight with, and play with, Brothers who understand me, have my same ideals, and no matter what always have my back. I'm thankful for my wife's family who's love made it easy to become my family.

I'm thankful for the USA. I'm thankful for freedom, for the people who gave their lives for it and give their lives for it every day. One nation under God.

I'm thankful for Friends. I don't have a lot of friends. I guess I am picky, or perhaps the friends I do have are not picky. Either way, I am glad to have a few. The few friends that I have, I trust and I guess that's all that matters.

I'm Thankful for Life. I'm thankful for the ups and the downs, the ups because they are ups and the downs because sometimes the downs are the only way humble me enough to grow. There have been times that I have smiled so big that you could see it from the moon and times that even crying didn't make me feel better. I have had good friends and I have had bad friends. I have been a good friend and I have been a bad friend. I've had my touchdowns and I have had days that I felt like punting. But I can't deny the fact that I have had a good life and I am thankful for that.

My life is about as close to fairy tale as it gets. I don't know why. I am aware that where much is given much is required. I don't know how I will ever keep up.

Happy Thanksgiving.

My Degenerate Blog

To my friends in Blogworld.
I know that my blog, has of lately sucked something serious. I haven't meant to just drop off the face of the planet. I have been on my bridge project and have had to be on site all day, every day. I imagine that regular readers of my blog may have found that their IQ has made a major jump in my absence.
I guess that I could continue my writing at home, but I have found that when I get home from work, that the last thing that I would want to do is turn a computer on.
I will try to do better, but I cannot promise anything until I have a little stability in my project schedule.
Just so everyone knows, I love you all, I am happy, my family is happy and healthy, all is well, and I hope that everyone is happy too.
I've gotta say, the area that I am working in is absolutely beautiful. I will have to post some pictures.

Dave

TGIF

When I was in Grade School, I had a bus driver Named Frank. Frank was an older gentleman with dark hair and spoke with a New York accent coupled with a slight speech impediment. He had a medium build was about 5' 10". When you got onto the bus it sometimes smelled like cigarettes. (I think he had to calm himself before dealing with the rowdy disrespectful bunch that we were.) Some kids were worse than others. Nearly every one was rude and wild and disrespectful to Frank. I don't think every one came at that naturally, I think that it was the end of the day and we were all able to relax. Our bus was the oldest bus in the school district and if you sat on the back seat, you would be launched nearly to the roof at every bump. There was one sharp turn in particular on the way home that was always entertaining. Frank usually hit the turn hard enough that we all thought the bus would tip over. Some days, all of the kids would get on one side of the bus before the turn, and as Frank hit the turn we would simultaneously push all of our weight to the other side of the bus to try and make it tip over. One day I swear we got that thing on two wheels. The bus ride was always an adventure. Every Friday Frank would get on the intercom and say TGIF with his low funny voice. We always got a kick out of it not just because he talked funny but because we knew that he really meant it. We knew that he was sincerely glad it was Friday. Of all the games and the craziness I noticed that my older brother was never in on the fun. He always showed Frank Respect. I don't ever remember my brother getting crazy on the bus, and I don't remember a time that my brother didn't stop and tell Frank thanks for the ride. As small as it was I think that my brother being the way he was, meant something to Frank. I remember one Christmas my brother brought Frank a bag of Oranges. It wasn't much, but by the look on Frank's face and the tear in his eyes it meant something to him. It wasn't the oranges, it was the thought. I remember watching that and feeling a little sadness, and a lot of guilt for being the boy that I had been to Frank.
I'm sitting here, it's close to the end of the day and work week. I have had ups (Cindy getting a deer) and downs (fighting with contractors, that's another long story.) And I can truly sit back and say TGIF and mean it just as much as Frank did.
I crossed people this week that made me really mean TGIF when I said it, and I have crossed people who, with just the little things have made a difference to me weather they knew it or not.
The little things are easy, that's why we call them the little things.

I think that sometimes we forget that the little things are everything to someone who has nothing.

My Wife the Great White Hunter

After 8 years of pestering, last night my wife finally agreed to buy a deer tag and let me take her out to kill a buck. I hunt a lot. I probably hunt more than a man should hunt but I can't help it. I'm addicted. My addiction got worse and out of control when I moved to Wyoming. I think that as my addiction spiraled out of control my pestering and influence for my wife to hunt got worse. Last night she broke. I promised her something big and she bought a tag. I had to make a few shady deals in which if she shot a nice buck I would take a full Saturday and take her to scrapbook stores and spend all day scrap booking, and I would have to make a scrapbook page myself. (I know that is asking a lot but I was desperate.) With all of these big bucks around us, I needed my wife to take advantage of it. So last night we loaded up and went hunting. I took her to my best spot. I wanted so bad for her to kill a nice buck. I knew if I got her onto a buck she would be able to shoot it. My wife surprisingly, is an excellent shot. I don't know why she just comes at shooting naturally.
So we get to the hunting area and right off we were seeing bucks. Nothing up to my wife's standard. After driving around for about an hour we came upon a heard of about 8 deer, mostly bucks. I was spotting, and I saw him about 200 yards away. I could see that he was a big one. Cindy was looking through the scope sizing up the deer. I asked: "do you see that big dawg?" She said: "yeah" I said "take him." She said "he is facing me". I said "wait for him to turn broadside". He turned broadside. I said "TAKE HIM" in a loud whisper. "TAKE HIM" I said again. "TAKE....." BOOOM! I watched the bullet slam right into the heart. The buck dropped like a ton of bricks. I think I started break dancing right there. I pulled off a perfect robot and three cycles of the worm. What a shot! Perfect placement. After she shot him she asked me how big he was, I said "I'm not sure, but I know he is big". My wife said "it better not be a two point". It wasn't a two point. As we walked up on him we realized what a monster she had shot. I was like a little kid in a candy store. I wanted to make out. :) My wife thought giving her five and a hug would be more appropriate. (Sorry I get my feelings a little confused sometimes :)) I guess that was good enough.
Of all the deer that I have killed I don't remember enjoying it as much as enjoyed watching my wife kill that buck last night. I don't know why I got such a kick out of it. I guess you get my two addictions together (Cindy and Deer hunting) anf I get a little out of control. Cindy tried to play it off as cool as she could but I know deep down inside she was excited as I was. She may have not been break dancing but her smile told the story. We guessed the buck had to have weighed over three hundred pounds. We only had to drag it 200 yards but that was a killer. I had to get help from a buddy to load it into the truck. I hung it up in the barn and it broke three ropes. Finally I had to settle for a ratchet strap.

I'm so proud of MY wife, the Great White Hunter.

Also, I hope this is a lesson to everyone who has been invited out to a special "Wild Wyoming Dave Riddle Buck hunt" and didn't accept.

Hard Times But Not Hard Times

I avoid trials and tribulation as much as possible. I do not like hard times. I do not like feeling bad. I do not like sadness, loneliness, or failure. I do not like death, famine or pain. I do everything possible to avoid these things because I really do not enjoy the experience. I do not enjoy watching others experience hard times either. But in reflection I look at my life and realize that experiencing these things (though at the time I hated them)I have realized that the hard times have been the critical in my own personal development.

I thought I would write about a one "hard time" that made a difference in my life.
As a boy, I had a very happy childhood. I had/have excellent parents and a good family. At one point in my childhood we fell on hard times. My dad lost his job with a good company and had to resort to Driving truck all night, pulling weeds and recycling freight pallets during the day. It took about 20 hours out of his day to work so that my mom could stay home and raise us and to put food in the mouths of four hungry boys. My dad didn't believe in handouts so he worked. He was gone a lot. My Poor mother was taxed with possibly a harder responsibility of keeping the peace of four fighting boys. I worried a lot during those times.
I remember one day my older brother and I had 75 cents and we decided to walk to the KOA store by our house to get a treat. We decided to buy two pixie sticks and a flavored Club Soda (we had never had one) to share. I remember walking back to our house laughing and having a good time. We stopped at the ditch behind our house to drink the Club soda and it was terrible. At that moment we both realized that we had wasted 50 cents of needed money. My brother and I talked about how we really shouldn't be wasting money while our dad was working so hard for it. We felt horrible over 50 cents. We played the rest of the day, but it was heavy on my mind. Later that night at a family home evening our family gathered around the piano for a song (none of us could sing very well) and my older brother was playing "the Money Song" as graceful as he could, while we sang along. We sang as a family:

Money can't buy everything
Money will not make you a king
Money will not buy success
Money cant buy happiness.

But one thing that I am sure
Money cannot make you poor
Money will not make you sad
Money cant be all that bad.

We laughed as we sang it over and over again. Later that night we knelt down together as a family and prayed. I don't remember the prayer, but I remember a feeling of peace that came over me. A feeling that told me that everything was going to be OK.
That day I learned something. I learned that money wasn't our source of happiness and it never would be.

In all of my worries, one dwarfed them all. I worried every night as my dad left to drive truck at night that he wouldn't come home. I knew how much he worked during the day, and I knew how little he slept. I knew I couldn't handle the loss of my Dad. Every night, I knelt down by my bed and prayed that my Dad would make it home safe. It wasn't a light hurry and get done prayer. It was sincere, and with all of my heart. I never missed a night. I couldn't miss a night.
My Dad came home every morning.
I learned the most important lesson of all through that hard time. I learned that somewhere, there was a loving Father that loved me, and as insignificant as I was, he listened, he listened every night. I learned that he had the power to take care of my loving Father.
I wouldn't trade that lesson for anything in the world.

Hard times can be our best times if we know where to turn. If we don't turn the right direction then they are just hard times.

Crazy Nights

I really think I am loosing it. I know I say that a lot but I think that I am loosing it for real. Last night, I have this dream that I looked up out of bed and saw a wolf spider hanging over my face. So I wake my wife up to turn the lights on so I can kill it. She tells me that I am asleep. But I am so convinced that it is there that I convince her that it is there. Well she turns the lights on and nothing. So I take a couple of pictures off the wall just to check and lay back down. Still not convinced that it is not there. Now that I am awake it all seems kind of foolish. I really hate listening to other peoples dreams, so I won't bore you with my crazy dreams, but I think lately I have been bombarded with the weirdest dreams possible. While I was hunkered down hunting white tails the other day I fell asleep and went into some crazy dream state. Sometimes I get dreams that have no business being there. Thoughts that I hadn't thought about for 20 years, Characters that I haven't seen for years or even thought about for years just pop in and say hi. It kind of makes me wonder what triggers all of it. Sometimes I go for certain periods without the craziness and others I get pretty active in my sleep. I am pretty sure that my wife thinks I have lost it but she cant say much. Sometimes I wake up and she is hitting me telling me that I stink. Now everyone knows that I don't stink. I think that I am a pretty good smelling guy. I can't figure that one out. I'm just glad that I am not a violent sleeper like my wife.

Monday's

I don't generally consider myself a complainer, or unhappy. But man I really really dislike Mondays. I woke up this morning at 4:30 and just wanted to crawl under my bed and die. I knew I couldn't So I thought about the possibility of calling in sick. I have never used a sick day, and why not today. Well that wouldn't work because I needed to hit my boss up today about leaving early tomorrow to go hunting. Which by the way is in a primo area on the Powder River. I watched a hunting show the other day, that was filmed in the same area that I am going. I am stoked. Opening day of the Rifle season started today. And I am wondering what I am doing at work? I've got a bridge project coming up in the next week or so, and I am worried that it will screw up my plans to go home for the deer hunt. I fricken hope not. If it does, I'm going to Wendy's to work. I'll get my respect.
This morning on my way to the gym I was so "out of it" that instead of driving to the YMCA, I drove to my office. Upon arrival to my office, I realized that I was in my Gym clothes. So I hopped back onto the freeway and drove to the Y. I think that I am loosing my mind. I don't think. I know. I think it was from my deer wound. Yeah, I'm still whining about that. I mean it has been a month and it still hasn't healed. It's not that sore anymore but there is a lump and still a scab. I don't think that I have caught any diseases or anything. Much to the disappointment of my friends and colleagues I haven't acquired lockjaw. I mean sure I have a small case of the worms, but hey I can eat pretty much whatever I want and not put on weight now. I think that the real reason that I hate Monday's is because I have such good weekends. I mean, the weekend was nothing special. Saturday, I hunted all morning back behind the house. It was beautiful out there. Nothing killed but there was a quiet peace out there that is hard to explain. When I got home, my wife had just gotten in from running a 5k and all of her friend's husbands were there to meet them at the finish line. I was the only husband not there. I felt like a deadbeat husband, and maybe I am. Maybe, I let hunting season get the best of me. But crap, how am I supposed to know 5K etiquette? I didn't know that I was supposed to be there. Of course my wife was understanding as usual. Which, I guess you have to be super-understanding when you marry a guy like me. I mean seriously, I can look at a clock and predict that withing a 5 minute timeline, I am going to either do or say something offensive or stupid. I guess it's just my nature. I'm kind of like a home run hitter. Every now and then, I can hit a home run with something I say. But I am swinging for the fence so often that, I find myself striking out most of the time. Anyways, hows that for a tangent. After disappointing my wife, I decided that I better lay some tile. So I layed tile for most of the day Saturday. Saturday night Cindy went to the Relief Society Broadcast, So Zach and I stayed home. Man what a funny baby. He is so happy and easygoing. We played around until Cindy got home. Sunday, Church was good. I love having a little boy to mess around with at church. I don't know who is worse, Me, Cindy or Zach. I can't remember the last talk that I followed church all the way through. I mean seriously. I get to church early because I have meetings. Cindy shows up to Sacrament with a box of Cookies and Zach. So we play with Zach and eat cookies during church. That's another issue. I hope I don't go to hell for eating cookies in church.
Anyways, I had a good weekend. And if you have been able to follow my tangential novel. That's why I hate Mondays. Crap, I think that I forgot to write why I hate Mondays.

Tree Climber

This is a video of my dog. I taught him to climb the tree out by the bunkhouse. He has had a complete recovery from the Snakebite. I think that he is ready for Goose and Duck season.

Shout out to my Bros.

I want to give a shout out to my little bro Gregg and his wife Lisa. Gregg got Lisa all pregnanted up so now they are going to have a baby in May I think. So anyways Gregg, good job, you are finally a proven sire. Now to further prove your manhood the real test is if you can have a boy. There are only a few of us out here that have so much manhood that they can only produce boys. I guess we will have to see.
All joking aside, I am happy as heck for the both of you. You will make excellent parents, and give the baby a fantastic home. What a lucky baby.
On another note; to my brother Dan, I imagine I should be expecting some announcement on baby number 4 any time soon. This year and a half is about as long as I remember without getting a baby announcement from you guys.
To Douggie, I think you should hold off on the announcement until you get married.

King for a Day in Clearmont Wyoming

Yesterday, I was out of the office for most of the day. I had to do some work in a little town called Clearmont, Wyoming. The drive was spectacular. Clearmont is about 45 miles east of Sheridan. The population is about 115. There is a general store, a bar, and a post office. When I arrived there they almost gave me a parade. They don't have visitors very often so they gathered all of the school children together and sang patriotic songs to me. The mayor let me wear his hat and gave me the keys to the city. The women from the Clearmont cattlewoman's association gave me a quilt that had been passed down through 5 generations. The volunteer fire department took me for a ride in their new 1972 firetruck, and the ladies of the senior center baked me a delicious apple pie.
OK, maybe none of that happened, but I did take a picture of this sweet redneck truck. Check out the exhaust pipes. I think I will make an offer.

My little man.

I haven't posted pics of my little boy for a while so I thought that I would post a couple of recents. This is Zachhy boy in his cowboy jammies. He loves his rocking chair.

Fighting the fight.

It's Monday morning and I am fighting the Monday battle of trying to get into a positive focus. I think that I am winning the battle. And it has been a battle. My alarm went off at 4:30 this morning and I swear, I just wanted to be sick and sleep the rest of the day, but I got up, got dressed and went to the gym. I was secretly hoping that my buddy wouldn't show up so I could just go jump in the shower and go to work, but he showed up. We lifted and I got feeling a little better this song came on and I hadn't heard it for a long long time and it kind of put me in a little better mood, and so after I got my blood pumping at the gym I decided in my mind that I would live to see another Friday, and hey by 7:00 I was feeling much better about life and ready to tackle it. I had a good weekend. Cindy, Zach, and I went to Green River for the funeral. It was good, except for the pastor that they hired, he was horrible. But hey what do you expect for a priest craft?? J/K. OK maybe not J/K. We had a good time though. We took the back way home and I really enjoyed the ride. Cindy and I never run out of things to talk about, and Zach was a good boy. I'm glad that after all of this time that we still enjoy each others company. I don't know what it is, but it seems like we can even find ways to enjoy funerals.

Kind of a Friday

Happy Friday.
I guess it's kind of a Friday. I'm taking tomorrow off to travel down to Green River for my friends funeral. Sorry to all for depressing posts. I will be a little more upbeat. I sometimes wonder what kind of a picture I paint of myself to those who don't know me. I wonder if, I would be dressed in a clown suit or dressed in black. Speaking of Green River, man I don't want to go there. If you have ever been to G.R. you know what I mean. The drive is horrible. That stretch between Rawlins and Green River is the most desolate windy hell that I have ever driven through. Maybe I can stop off and get some fireworks, yeah some fireworks. I think That I will leave tonight after work, stay the night and come home as soon as the funeral is over Friday morning. I can't think of any reason to spend time in G.R. My friend was too young to die. He was only 56. There I go again, writing all depressing stuff.

For every worry
under the sun.
There is a remedy
Or there is None.

If there is a remedy
hurry and find it
It there isn't
Nevermind it.

I think there are some things that we can fix and something that we can't. I think that we waste a lot of time worrying about things that we can't fix instead of using that time to fix the things that we can.

The day I snapped.

As a boy I lived in a fairly close nit neighborhood. I think that I knew everyone and I think that everyone knew me. There were a lot of kids around my age and we always had a lot of fun things going on. It didn't matter if we were out in the nearby fields building huts, or building dams on the irrigation ditches, we were all fairly active. Video games were just coming out and they just weren't as important to kids as they are now. In the bustle of all of the fun activities there was a black cloud about three houses down from mine. There lived, what I thought, and what all of the neighbor kids thought was the meanest man alive. Ever since I could remember, I remember tails of the evil of this man. Stories ranging from him stabbing his daughters with nails to punching little kids. Needless to say, I was a little scared of him. As I grew up, incident after incident confirmed my suspicions. There many occasions that I got yelled at. Sometimes for good reasons and sometimes for no reason at all. When riding my bike past his house, I always double timed my peddling to avoid any confrontation. He was just mean. He wasn't prejudice, he was mean to everyone, even his own kids. He had a son a few years younger than me, and I remember the famous church bathroom incident. On Sunday at church my younger brother and I walked into the bathroom and there he was. He was taking his son to the bathroom, and as some little kids do, as they take a wizz, his son had his pants dropped around his ankles. As our mean neighbor saw us, he said in a gruff voice to his son. "My hell Allen, Ive never seen a grown boy pee with his pants down." My little brother's jaw dropped as he looked at me speechless, he didn't know weather to laugh or just ignore it until he left. His son finished his business and they walked off. That further confirmed to us that he was the meanest man alive. He was even mean in church and he wasn't afraid to swear at kids at church. I think that my brother and I used and reused the famous bathroom quote over a million times. "My hell Gregg, I've never seen a grown boy pee with his pants down". Though comical, it was again a reaffirmation that he was the meanest man alive. My mean neighbor had a really neat 55 Chevy that was his pride and joy. If you looked at it wrong, you were yelled at. We usually steered clear of it for personal protection.
Then one day, the tables turned, the right stars aligned and It happened. I snapped.
One summer evening, my friend Dale and I were walking up the street. The mood was set. I was 11 or 12 years old, the testosterone had just started flowing in my body, girls were starting to become interesting to me, I was as smart as I ever remember feeling, and that particular night I was feeling extraordinarily tough, I felt good, I felt confident, most important, I felt like a man. As we walked up the street to my house our path fell unavoidably past his house and past his beloved cherry red 55 Chevy. I noticed something different about the car. It had new rims, and naturally I had to stop to take it in. I stopped and pointed out the new rims to my friend. My friend nudged me and pointed out that our mean neighbor was on the porch watching his new rims. It was too late, I had stopped too long and there it came:"You two get your @$$es away from my car." Expecting us to run, he stood up, my friend Dale assumed starting block position. There was a noise in my brain that sounded like a rubber band getting pulled to a breaking point, and I snapped. I said NO! As I walked towards him, And then came a flood of words that would have made Perry Mason silent. He stood there in shock as I let him have it. He hung on every word. When I finished, I stood there waiting for a punch or something and I didn't get it. He just looked down at the ground and apologised. In fact it was probably the most sincere apology that I had ever heard. He talked to me and explained previous events in his life that caused him to be the mean man that he was. That night we stood out in front of his house even past dark and talked. We talked like men. I went home that night, stunned at the reality of what had taken place. From that time forward he never yelled at me again. I would pass his house, he would wave and I would wave back. Some days we even had conversations. He respected me and I knew it. I never had any trouble from that time forward.
I learned something that day. I learned that if you are right, and that is if you are right. (Very important.) You have to stand up for that. Sometimes you have to stand up for that aggressively. It's easy to be passive and just let things slip, and I believe turning the other cheek is important, but you can only turn the other cheek for so long. Some times you have to fix it.

My Friend and My Regrets.

When I moved to Wyoming, I kind of came here with faith and a prayer. With a combination of some answered prayers, spiritual guidance, and a heck of a job offer, I packed my bags and moved blindly to Sheridan, Wyoming. I had never been there in my life. I was worried as I traveled through that rough Hell they call southern Wyoming, that I was possibly making the biggest mistake of my life, but as I traveled northward and began getting into the Northern Heaven of Wyoming, I realized just how lucky I had become. I came to work for a man named John Dolinar. A man of whom I had only talked to on the phone, but a man who either was a very generous man, or a dang good con-artist. I worked for John for around two months before I met him in person. We met at a CPR training. His presence was something unexplainable. He was a very large man. I noticed him immediately as I climbed out of my work truck. He looked like some mob boss out of a movie. He stood there smoking a Camel. As I approached him he gave me a little smile stuck out his hand and I shook it. I said " I guess your my boss huh" and he said yep. John kept a closed circle, and earning his respect and trust was a pretty big accomplishment. Through the two years that I worked for him, I spent at least half of that time earning his trust and respect. As time went on John and I started doing a lot of work together. and while working we became very good friends. There were days that we would spend the last two hours of the day just talking about life. Some days he would just call my office and we would just talk. Nothing ever specific just life in general. John and I had two separate systems of beliefs, but I learned a lot about life in general from him. John was a smart man. John went from being the guy that didn't have a pot to pee in, to being the guy that handed out the pots to pee in. He was happy to bring others along with him. As I became closer to him, I became close to his family, and they became my family away from my family. About a year ago a couple of opportunities arose for me to make a career change. Even though I wasn't looking for a change, I prayed about what to do and felt a strong feeling to make the move. One of the hardest days of my life was telling my friend John that I was leaving the company. It was hard for me and hard for my wife, she had grown to love John too. That day as I climbed into my SUV to make the 1.5 hour drive to Gillette, my wife just stood there with tears in her eyes. I knew what I had to do, and I knew what God wanted me to do. So I went and did it. I felt horrible that day as I walked into John's suite. I knocked on the door, he opened the door and said: "Well Dave, what are you doing here, do you want to go and grab some dinner". I looked down at the floor and said that I wasn't hungry and that I needed to talk to him. I told him of my decision, he tried to bribe me out of my decision, and understandably accepted my resignation. About a couple of months later he was diagnosed with lung and liver cancer. We met up about a month after that at a Wyoming Engineering Society's meeting and we sat down at the bar. He had quit drinking and I didn't drink so we drank diet Cokes and talked about his sickness. He had quit smoking that week, but it was a little too late. That night at the formal banquet, my wife and I sat down and ate dinner with he and his family, we still felt like a part of his family even after we left it. Time passed. I made a couple of phone calls, wrote a few emails, and last week I made the attempt to visit him. He was gone. Now here I am.
I titled my blog, "My Friend and My Regrets" because I have regrets. I have a lot of them. I don't have regrets for John, because he was a good man. I know God loved him and I understand that he has been taken back to that God who gave him life. I have regrets for the kind of friend that I was. There were so many times that I thought that I should go and visit, and so many times that I thought that I should call, but I blew them off because I was so focused on other things. I never changed the way I felt about my friend, I just got so busy with my other agendas that I put him on the back burner. I don't know why I am like that. I don't have a lot of regrets, but the way I have tossed old friends on the back burner is a regret that I will have to live with the rest of my life. I can look back on my life and see a lot of friends that really meant a lot to me that, as our lives took different courses, I tossed on the back burner until I eventually had nothing to do with them. Not that I didn't think the world of them, but I was so focused on the course that I was taking, that I didn't take the time to keep in touch, or just let them know that I still thought they were great and that they still meant a lot to me. And for that I have a hollow regret. I wish I would have not done that with my friend John, because now it's too late. I guess I have never been good at walking and chewing gum at the same time. I think that I probably should start to learn.

My friend John

I found out about a half hour ago, that a good friend of mine had died. He was diagnosed with lung and liver cancer about a 9 months ago. They gave him three months to live. He made it 6 more. He worked his job up until Friday. It wasn't in him to just give up and die. I really don't know what to think. I guess I will just sit here and feel bad. I think I will write about him a little later today.

A little Superstitious

When I lived in Cedar City, I rented a house from a friend of mine, his name was Bud. The longer I rented from him the better friends we became. Bud was and is probably one of the nicest guys I know. He was just a good person. Bud was about 65 at the time, and he and I would spend hours just talking. I didn't do a lot of talking (which is hard to believe), with Bud I did a lot of listening. Bud was a good enough person that I found myself wanting to be a good person the more I was around him. Bud at one time was my principal, and on one occasion, I got into some trouble and was sent to his office and instead of getting mad at me he pulled out his guitar and sang to me. That was just the kind of man he was. One day Bud and I were driving out to his farm to build some shelves and he told me something. He said: "Dave, in all the years that I have been driving this route to the farm I've noticed something. I have noticed that I can generally judge how my day is going to be, by the stoplights." I looked at him with a smirk and said: "Come on, I didn't know you were superstitious". He said:"no, I'm not superstitious but in the last 40 or so years, I have noticed that if when I come to the intersections, if the stoplights are all green as I pass, I usually tend to have a better day. If the stoplights are red when I get there, I usually have a bad day. If I get a mixture, I usually have an average day." I kind of laughed it off.
I thought it was funny, there was Bud, a religious man, but superstitious. I didn't think you could mix and match them. It has given me something to think about.
Now that I am kind of getting into a routine, I have found my own superstition. I guess it sounds dumb but I am starting to believe it. I have found that in the morning If I see a deer I usually have a good day, if I see a buck I have a better day, and If I see a big buck I have an excellent day. If, on the way to the gym in the morning, there is a train in the intersection I usually have a bad day. If I am stopped for a long time, it is a really bad day, if I am stopped for a short period of time it is a so so day. I know that sounds nuts but I am a believer. Take for instance today. As I drove up my lane I saw no deer. As I drove into town sure enough it was the train. Luckily I only had to wait for about 30 seconds, so I knew the day would be so so. Probably not good but not bad either. Well today has been that way. My day started off with some old guy taking my towel at the YMCA shower and leaving me with a dishrag that who knows where had been. No big deal, I made it through it. Work has been so so, my high dollar computer crashed once, and I lost a design that I was working on. No big deal, I redid it. I went home for lunch, got busy playing with my little boy that I took a little longer than needed so in my hurry to get back to work, I pass a Wyoming Highway Patrolman who of course pulls me over. I have no licence with me and no seat belt on, luckily I found my proof of insurance. Well, he is a little hot under the collar, so I start pulling out my bag of "get out of a ticket" tricks. He goes back into his SUV, comes out a little later. Says "well our system is down so I can't check your driving record. I will let you off with a warning. " I told him that if he didn't have a night stick and a can of mace I would give him a hug. He kind of laughed and let me on my way. So, bad luck that I got pulled over, not so bad that I talked my way out of a ticket. I got back to work, and one of the bosses called and asked me to do something for him on the weekend. Bad luck because Now I gotta do something on the weekend. Not so bad because I found out that I was a week ahead on a design that I thought was due on Monday.
Well, just a random thought. Try it for yourselves, I wasn't a believer but now I kind of am. I do think that sometimes we make our own luck but I also believe that sometimes we are going to get what we have coming.

Today

Today I'm not feeling smart, witty, or even full of crap. I'm not feeling bad. I'm not feeling good. My body aches all over but I am feeling healthy. I've had a good day at work, I designed a gravel access road and a borrow pit for my new bridge project. It was fun because I did a lot of that when I was working for big oil and gas. I used different software but it was the same concept. The leaves are starting to turn and fall is in the air. It is starting to get chilly, and I suppose the long cold winter is ahead of us. I am a little torn, I love this time of year because of hunting season, Deer, Elk,Goose, duck, pheasant, etc. But I always hate to see summer leave. I love the quite cold of winter. I don't know if I can explain it but there is something about 30 below weather that is, well I cant think of a word for it, you just get a feeling of something, but it's not bad. I guess you have to experience it.
I'm going on day five without caffeine. That's pretty good for me considering the amount of that stuff that I consume. I won't go into details of my level of consumption, but if you know me you know that I consumed way too much. I decided that probably wasn't healthy, and I am feeling a little better now because of it. I'm surprised that I am not going through any withdrawls from it. I guess I have been a little tired, but I have been getting up at 4:30 to go to the gym every morning. I think that warrants a little grogginess.
I guess that is that for the day. I think I will go home.

Baggage Resurfaced

When I first started my blog, I decided to use it as a tool to revisit old baggage that I had been carrying along with me. (See April archive) I found it quite therapeutic. I found that as I blogged about damaging things that happened to me as a young boy and man, that I felt better. Well some baggage has resurfaced as of late and I would like to talk about it. This baggage resurfaced as I walked past the feminine hygiene department at Walmart last night. As most men know, walking through the "feminine" isle not a comfortable thing. You get nervous, clam up and don't say a word. I don't know if it is just because that is a subject that we don't like to talk about or we don't understand it, or after enduring the aftermath of a monthly emotional cycle, despise it and wish it would go away. I don't know why, and maybe I am alone, I get an uncomfortable feeling in that isle, and I really don't enjoy the subject. It's kind of like when I go shopping with my wife and she asks me to hold her purse. That's fine and all, but while she is trying on clothes, I am stuck there in a women's clothing store holding a purse. No matter how masculine I hold the purse(I prefer the football method), I am still a dude standing alone in a women's clothing store holding a purse. You get my drift, Its all uncomfortable. I don't think women realise how uncomfortable it is. As a man, I really don't like stopping by the store on the way home from work to pick up feminine products. There is nothing like running into one of your friends carring a 100 pack of gentle scented super absorbency. I grew up with 3 brothers and no sisters. I don't understand all of it. I don't want to understand it. I remember stealing Tampax from my mom as a little boy thinking they were bombs because of the string. My friends thought they were bombs too. I liked it better when they were bombs. Anyways back to the baggage. I remember when I was a boy, I had a sharp fillet knife that I was using to cut a box. As I made a hard cut, the knife slipped and cut my finger. The cut was deep, and began to bleed profusely. My sweet mother that was nearby came to my rescue. She ran to the end hall closet and pulled out the biggest band aid that I had ever seen. It was about 8" long and about 3 inches wide. It was white and the sticky side was on the outside. I had never seen a band aid like this. She took this band aid and wrapped it around my finger. It absorbed and stopped the bleeding almost immediately. I was pleased. So I continued cutting on my box. All was well, until my older brother got home with one of his friends. I told him about the cut and he looked at the band aid and began to laugh and call me pad boy. I remember in detail, my brother looking up to my mom and saying, why would you use that? and she said it was the best way to stop blood. My brother continued to tease me, so I got a little suspicious about this giant band aid, and started asking questions. Well my mom didn't want to go there and I never knew what it was for until about two years later. When I found out that it was really not a giant bandaid I was furious. In fact, I believe that was the first time in my life that I ever said the F word. I said it to myself but I said it out loud. No one heard me that day, but after dropping the F bomb, I vowed to never tell a soul about my giant band aid.
Well, there it is. I have broken my vow of silence to ease the pain.
I want to tell my mother that I forgive her for wrapping a giant band aid around my cut finger causing deep emotional scars that lasted much longer that the scars from the actual cut. I hope she will forgive me for saying the F word. I love you Mom.

New Work Site

With the completion of my water tank, I have had to move onto a new Job. This is a picture of the completed tank. I went to my new work site yesterday to do a little recon, and the site is awesome. I will be supervising the construction of a Bridge that spans the Tongue River. It's a decent sized bridge and I imagine I will spend quite a bit of time out there. It is close to the Bighorns so the trout fishing should be nice. Perhaps, I will have to slip a pole into my work truck. The area is beautiful.

Wound Update

Well, I thought I would update everyone on my wound. I know that there has been a lot of lost sleep over it. My deer horn wound is looking really gross. everything around it is hard. Today I decided to squeeze it and all of this black nasty stuff oozed out of it. I think squeezing it helped, and a kid from my office thinks it is looking pretty cool. I think that tonight I will give myself a shot of cow penicillin, I'm not sure the best way to do it though, with cows and dogs you just lift a the skin up. But you cant do that with people. Does anyone know if it's OK to shoot it into the muscle? I know you shouldn't shoot it into veins. I'll have to ask the rancher down the road, he medicates himself all the time.

A good weekend.

I had a pretty good weekend this weekend. In fact it was I guess about as good as I have had. I didn't catch a big fish or shoot a big buck or Elk.
Friday after work I got home and Cindy had a church meeting to go to so It was just me and Zacchy boy. So we decided to go for a ride around the ranch in the truck. Zach stood on my lap while he held on to the steering wheel and we putted around the ranch at about 5 mph. We let Angus come along with us, he ran along with the truck looking for birds, snakes and rabbits. Zach sang along to the Chris Ledoux songs about as good as a 9 month old could sing. We drove down to the creek and threw rocks in the water for Angus to fetch. We looked at a couple of deer and honked the horn at the cows. Zach's eyes were as lit up as I had ever seen them. He was just taking everything in. After about 45 minutes his legs were a little tired from standing so he sat on my knee and watched out the window, pausing every couple of minutes to look up at me and smile. There was a fresh cut hay smell in the air as the sun sat in a big Wyoming sky. When we got back to the house, Angus was pooped so we fed him and put him to bed. By that time Cindy got home and we decided to go to the Sheridan High School football game. I don't think that I had been to a High School Football game since High School. When we arrived at the high school stadium the band was playing, the smell of hamburger was in the air, highschool kids were running around trying to impress each other, it was great. We walked into the stands and found some friends from church, Zach loved the band and all of the excitement. It took about 30 seconds before Zach was snatched up by one of the young women from church, so Cindy and I had a chance to enjoy the game together. Cindy looked stunning. I am still amazed that someone so perfect as Cindy would marry someone so imperfect as me, and get alongs as good as we do and still be madly in love.
I guess from one perspective, a person could say it was a normal night. But for me it was everything. I couldn't ever imagine ever being without my wife and little boy. I couldn't imagine being happy after I have what I have and if I lost what I have. I guess everything else is trivial. I hope that I can do what I need to do here so I can have there what matters most to me here. I think that is all that really matters.

Boob

So the other day when I was dragging my deer out, I wore shorts, (as you can see in the previous picture.) I don't hunt in shorts but I thought I would have to go swimming in the ditch to drag that deer out. Well, got lucky and didn't have to swim but while I was pulling this 200 lb deer over the ditch bank one of the horns stabbed my leg. I don't know if you have ever felt how sharp a horn is just after it has lost it's velvet but they are fricken sharp, well this bloody horn jabbed about 2 inches deep into my leg, so I pull it out and and try to bleed it out the best I can and keep going. Well I'm in a hurry that day so I can get to work so after I cut up my deer. (Which I did in 30 minutes, pretty fricken fast!), I got in the shower scrubbed it a little bit and went to work. I didn't do anything with it. Well now its three days later and all infected. I wonder if I can get a disease from a deer horn stab. The gross thing about it is the horn was bloody from freshly loosing it's velvet. Maybe I will give myself a shot of Cow penicillin when I get home (worked for my dog rattlesnake bite.) This is a picture, and I don't think it does it justice. I just thought I would wine about it. How is that for poetic justice, I stab the deer and the deer stabs me. I guess that is fair. And you have to listen to me boob. :) Yeah and no comments about the tan Rick. I live in Wyoming we don't have tan time every day.

Bittersweet

Well, yesterday was a little bittersweet. The bow hunt started on September 1st and I hadn't been out yet. All summer I practiced with my bow, well maybe not all summer, but I spent a little more time this year practicing with my bow, and got to where I could have pretty good placement at decent distances. Well yesterday I went out hunting for the first night. I had been watching a few bucks and noting the time that they came into the pasture. I had noticed one buck in particular. He was coming in fairly late but it seemed like clockwork that he would show at a certain place at a certain time. So I hunkered down in an irrigation ditch and waited. I would say that I waited for about 3 hours. Right at the time that I expected a buck appeared. It was late. I could see antlers and a very large body. So I began to stock. As I stocked up the irrigation ditch. I figured that if I could get within 50 yards I could make a competent shot. So when I got to the position that I guessed was 50 yards (I don't use a rangefinder) I slowly appeared, drew my bow, steadied on the 50 yard pin, and pulled the release. The arrow flew through the air as fast as a 70lb draw Matthews Switchback could throw it, and wham! a direct hit in the vitals. The buck kind of jumped but didn't know what was going on, walked about 25 yards and laid down. I waited for about 45 minutes and walked towards him, he jumped up, so I decided to let him bleed it out. I went home, and went to bed. I tossed and turned until 1:00Am got up and drove to the location that I had seen him last. He had gone and jumped into a ditch. Not feeling like getting wet I decided to get him in the morning. This morning I went to the ditch and there he was. Then the disappointment set in. He wasn't the buck that I thought I shot. Not the one that I had been watching. A different buck. Not near as big, but a good buck to shoot. He was old and had weaker horns for an older buck. I guess a good management buck. But crap. I really wanted to get a bigger buck. He would be alright for probably the average hunt, but who cares I live on a fricken premier hunting ranch. It was sweet because it was my first "official" buck shot with a bow and the shot placement was excellent. Right through the vitals at 50 yards. I think the shot was noteworthy. But the bitter part came when I looked at this small management buck. This is a picture of the buck. I know that I am opening myself up to a little ridicule by posting this picture but I deserve it. I guess the lesson learned was: No matter how sure you are that you are on the right path you better double check, its easy to be deceived and its easy to deceive yourself.

I guess I still have my Utah hunt, but crap, if you have ever seen the bucks on my place you would be fricken disappointed in me. I've let down myself. The Sweet thing is: If this is my biggest problem in life then maybe life isn't that bad.

I would like to give a shout out to my sponsors:

Matthews Bows, for giving me a bow that when in my hands is deadly accurate, and for costing enough that my kid will have to go to a junior college.

Easton Carbon Arrows that have a good composite layout but have crappy fletching that falls off.

Dave Riddle for re-fletching the arrow at the balance points with good glue. (fletching did not come off after traveling through the buck)

G4 broadheads for providing me with field point accuracy. Though the price should include gold plating.

Prairie Ghost Camo (even though they look like pj's.) (which I am not wearing in the picture)

My Mom and Dad (for superior hunting genetics)

My Wife and The Holy Ghost (for making me feel guilty enough that I didn't just leave that little buck in the ditch and going for a bigger one.)

My brothers, who even though this buck is bigger than anything that they will kill will give me an infinite amount of crap.

My wife again who is totally turned on by my hunting skills.

My little boy Zach that has helped me to be true to myself.

Jesus, for all of it.

Jack Mormons

Ever since I have lived in Wyoming, when people find out I am a Mormon, I occasionally get asked the question: Are you a Jack Mormon or a good Mormon? I always answer with the question: What is your definition of a Jack Mormon? I usually get a few different definitions. From what I understand, the term "Jack Mormon" originated by a Popular Mormon boxer by the name of Jack Dempsey. Jack Dempsey was an world class boxer back in the 1920's. A phrase that he was famous for was: "I'm proud be a Mormon, but ashamed to be a Jack Mormon", hence the term "Jack Mormon" was born. The term "Jack Mormon" has been used throughout the years to refer to those of the LDS faith that don't live the teachings of the church. The question is what Mormon out there is able to live all of the teachings of the church? I would submit that if a Jack Mormon is a Mormon that doesn't live all of the teachings of the church, then we are all Jack Mormons. If I remember right Jesus was the only one who was able to live a sinless life. I know a few people that refer to Jack Mormons as those Mormons that may take a taste of alcohol or smoke cigarettes. Those are outward sins and hard to hide. What about sins that are easy to hide. Like Pride, Not loving our neighbor, Lying, Backbiting, etc. What if our sins carried a smell with them like cigarette smoking, say the more serious the sin the stinkier. I would rather be the guy that smokes than the lady that looks down on the guy that smokes. I would rather be the guy that drinks a beer at night than the guy that hates his neighbor. I would rather be the guy that drinks a coke for lunch than the lady that talks about how great she is because she doesn't drink coke. Or I would rather be the high school kid that drinks beer around the campfire with his buddies than the seminary council kid that sleeps around but would never hang out with the party kids because they are bad.
Lately I have thought about how judgemental people can be and it bugs the heck out of me. Take the lady from Provo (or Spanish Fork or wherever, I mean it's just an example), she doesn't break the word of wisdom, she doesn't drink Cokes, she doesn't watch TV on Sunday. She is perfect in her minds eye. She just cant believe that people would ever do such abominable things as drink Coke or watch TV on Sundays. Just Horrible. She, in her minds eye is perfect. And because she is without sin she is able to cast the first stone on those other heavy sinners who are with sin. She is the first to rush judgement and blackball people who sin outwardly because she lives so good. Her pride in herself makes Terrel Owens seem humble. If she could showboat every time she drinks sprite instead of a Pepsi she would. I mean it drives me crazy. I think that there are a lot of people out there that drive people, (who may have a little word of wisdom problem or may have a hard time with a few of the commandments) away from the church, just because they are so quick to judge and look down on those that may not be as good at keeping their favorite commandments. So my definition of a Jack Mormon is a Mormon who judges other Mormons who don't live the simple commandments that they are outwardly living. I think a Jack Mormon is a Mormon who makes others not want to be a Mormon because of how they live their life. That is a Jack Mormon to me. I hope I am not a Jack Mormon. The neat thing about Wyoming is I don't see a lot of Jack Mormons, I see a lot of good members of the LDS faith trying to live the best they can while helping others and loving others. Isn't that what it is all about? When Jesus was asked, What is the greatest commandment, he said: "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, the second is like unto it, thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself." I think that sometimes we get so caught up in the little easy things that we forget the important big things.

Personally, I wish we were all judged by our fishing skills, then I would have it made. :) Here are a couple of fish that I caught last week. (That Humility thing is a hard thing to live sometimes).

What I am really thinking.

Today, I went home for lunch and my wife said that she was talking to one of her friends, and her friend asked if I hated her. That is a question I think that at least half of my wife's many friends have asked her: Does Dave hate me? I would like to address this in case you are one of my wifes many friends that wonder If I hate you. I think that I will answer that in a round about way, first by explaining what I am, in general, thinking about.
Jeff Foxworthy, in one of his shows, talks about how women always say: "I just wish I knew what he was thinking". And he proceeds to tell the world what men in general are thinking, if women are really wondering. He said what we are really thinking is: "I want a beer, and I want to see something naked." He explains, that is what we are really thinking. I agree to a certain point that that is what we are really thinking. I think the point that he was trying to make is that we are really not that complex. Now I think that I may be a little less complex than the average man. Partly due to my religion. My religion doesn't allow me to drink beer and it isn't really fond of me seeing a lot of things naked. So I try to keep my baser thoughts under control. So perhaps that makes me a little less complex than the average man. So if I am not thinking about wanting a beer or seeing something naked, then maybe I am not really thinking about anything. So if you come up to me and say Hi. and I say Hi back, I actually mean Hi. If you ask me how I am doing and I say fine, I actually mean that I am fine. If I ask you what's wrong and you are a woman and say nothing... Then I am going to act like I really believe that there is nothing wrong. (I know there is something wrong because I am smart enough to know that when a woman says nothing is wrong that something is wrong, I just really don't want to dig into it.) I hope you get the point, I don't talk in code. I think that I am probably as good as anyone with reading body language and facial expressions, I just choose not to. (With the exception of my Wife and family or if a church calling requires it.) I think that it is my responsibility to respond to their emotional needs. Now back to my wifes friends. I want to explain something. As you know my wife is a good woman, she is sweet and caring and would do anything for her friends. She is a good listener and a good talker. I am not a good listener or a good talker. I hope that you understand that I am not even an iota as caring or nice as my wife. If you come up to me and ask me about scrapbooking or what my thoughts were on the latest Becky Higgins item are and I am talking to someone about fishing, I will probably, inadvertantly blow you off. I may think that you are the neatest person in the world, I just don't want to talk about scrapbooking, I don't want to talk about emotional situations, and I dont want to talk about feminine problems. I'm sorry, those thing just don't do it for me.
In conclusion, please don't think I hate you. I really don't, in fact I probably think quite highly of you. If you want to go fishing with me or hunting with me or even watch TV with me you are more than welcome (as long as the conversation is limited to grunts, burps, laughs, farts, and a maybe a couple of holy craps). If you are having real problems and need real help in any area besides scrapbooking and feminine problems I will be happy to help in anyway, because I really don't hate you. In fact I think highly of you because you think highly of a person that I call my wife and that means something to me. So fricken leave me alone.

Women

Women. I titled this blog Women because I want to address the subject of Women. I will be the first to say that I do not understand Women. But I think that I would like to show a little courage today and address this subject. Though complex, I would like to share my perspective on what I don't understand about women. I know that I am a simple man, and I know that this task may have a backlash that perhaps I am not quite aware of yet but I think that I will discuss the things that I dont know. So I will name Eight things that I don't know about Women and as a disclaimer, I will say that I am married to the perfect woman and none of these apply to her, I am speaking of women collectively and not individually.

1. I don't know how women can have simple interactions with each other and turn it into something complex. I run into one of my friends, I say hey, he says hey back thats it. A women runs into one of her friends and says hey, the other on says hey back, ten seconds later one woman is worrying if she should have said more, and the other woman is worrying why the other woman said hey the way she did.

2. I don't know where they got sugar and spice and everything nice. Thats not true. I will submit that Women are 1000 times meaner than men. When Women fight with each other they fight dirty. Men may punch each other in the noses, but women damage each others emotions, that can be permanant. I'd take snakes and snails and puppy dog tails. Thats just temporary damage.

3. I don't know why women cant give orders, or take orders from other women. There is an art to both, and sometimes we all need to do both.

4. I don't know why womens magazines have articles on how to please their man. Iv'e got news, we aren't that hard to please.

5. I don't know why women have to read romantic books or watch romantic movies to feel romantic. I think that a decent burp from their man should be enough.

6. I don't know why women ask us if they look fat in something. We will probably never tell you that something makes you look fat. Only the dumb men will ever venture there and they will only do it once.

7. I don't know why women would ever watch a show like Hope Floats. It doesn't make you feel good and there is no one naked in it.

8. Finally, I don't know why women give men the silent treatment. I'll share a little secret, we like the silent treatment. You may think that is just as effective as the look, its not. Yeah the look, you know what I mean, that doesn't work that good either. Stick with crying, that always works.

I welcome any answers to my I don't know why's. Perhaps that will make me a more understanding man. Speaking of Women, I get mine back today and I am pretty excited.:)

Friday

Once again Friday has come and I have found myself lacking in the blog department. I have been alone for the past few days, Cindy and Zach left me for Utah, for 10 days and so I am bacheloring it. My dog wasn't doing very well so I took him to the vet and he went under the knife. He is doing pretty good now. I think that he will be good for hunting season which is coming up before I know it. In fact with my bachelorness I have spent a little time watching the deer. Last night after work I dressed up in camo and watched and found some nice deer. Got me pretty excited. I can't say that I'm not lonely as hell. I miss my Wife and little boy, but it is nice to have a little time to relax and think about life and the important things like the bowhunt starting September 1st. I lined out a Lg mouth Bass Fishing trip tomorrow at a private pond for Stinky Pockets and I, It should be a good time. I think that the pond is pretty good. Its all private. The guy used to charge a lot of money to fish there so It should be good. Last night I ate corn and squash from my own garden and I decided that I am going to try to live for the next month on only things that I Grew, Killed, or Caught. I have a crapload of squash, some corn, tomatoes and peppers. My freezer is still partially full of Elk, deer, and antelope. I think that it will be good for me. I guess the only exception is pop. I think that I will have to slowly ween myself of Diet Drinks. I like that crap too much. I think that will be good for me. I think that my body needs a break from un-natural ingredients. I think to keep myself accountable I will have to Log, everyday my eating on the Blog.

After a little thought and reading some of my blog I have decided that it is important for me to have my wife around. I think that my already-low sanity level drops about 3 points below sanity when I am alone.

This is a picture of my redneck water tank crew for your viewing pleasure. Check out the one dude with his shirt off. I think that I could make a pretty good case for evolution. They are all from Southern Ohio, pretty funny guys. It seems like I have a special connection with rednecks. Perhaps I are one.

Today's Ramblings

I have written 3 posts but haven't posted them yet because I don't think that I am quite finished with them. Maybe I am finished with some of them just unsure if I should post them.
I am taking some of my young men from church fishing tonight. We will be catching perch and having a fish fry at the lake. I think that it will be a good time. Maybe I can even take a few pictures.
Man, My life seem like a blur. I don't know where my time has gone. I don't think that I have wasted it, and perhaps because I am so busy that is what makes it seem like a blur. I am glad that I am not busy just because of work. I am glad that I am busy doing things that I think I am supposed to do. I think that if I didn't I might have regrets.
My dog got bit by a rattlesnake. His face is all puffed up. I will have to post a few pictures. He was in pretty rough shape at first but he is doing good now. The swelling hasn't gone down very much, but he is strong again and wanting to play. I think that he is liking the attention. Living in the house. Eating food from a can. Penicillin shots twice a day. Elk burger once a day. I wouldn't be surprised if after he gets better if he goes out and gets bit again just for the lifestyle. Crazy dog. I'm glad he didn't die on me. I don't know If I would have taken that very well.
Who do you think would win in a fight, Ozzy or Lita Ford?
I think that my money would be on Lita.
Well, I guess I am done rambling.
Maybe,
I have been getting horrendous nightmares lately. I wonder if I am going nuts. Or nuttser. I already know that I am nuts. Is there a word for the step after nuts? If there is I think that I am there.
This is a picture of a big buck that I saw. The pic kind of stinks. Just take my word for it. It is a big buck!

Runaway

When I was a little boy, probably around 9 or 10 I decided that I would run away. I don't think that it was provoked by anything or any anger towards my parents or my family. I think that I had just finished reading the book, My side of the Mountain and decided that I would try running away to see if I could make it on my own. There was something appealing about running away, making a hut and surviving just to see if I could. I knew that doing this would take some planning so I thought about where I would go and what I would bring. I packed my little red backpack that had my name on it. (A backpack that at one time held a 72 hour kit that our family put together for a family home evening or something.) I packed a canteen, a shirt (I think it was my favorite color country wrestling shirt, (I wonder if I still have that?)), A pair of rustler jeans, some undies, matches, socks, a pocket knife and a canteen. I decided that I didn't need any food, I would just have to get used to killing what I ate. So I grabbed my bag, and headed out. It was about 2:30 PM. I headed down the street and made a left up the street to a place that the neighborhood kids called "The Fields". I knew the spot that I would go. My spot had a large population of prairie dogs, and I had gotten close to them a few times and knew with some skill I could kill them and survive. When I arrived at the calculated location, I decided that I would first have to kill dinner. I was hungry already and I knew that I could whip up a survival shelter in a matter of about an hour. So I found a long stick and took out my pocket knife and sharpened carefully the end to make a spear. This only took about 25 minutes because I was quite skillful with the knife. After a few practice throws I felt that I was ready for the hunt.
Upon arrival to the prairie dog town I was greeted with the usual prairie dog chirps. After closely scanning the area, I found a mound with a large dog. A large tasty prairie dog. A large tasty prairie dog that was going to get a sharp stick thrown through its insides, skinned, gutted, cooked and wolfed down into my empty stomach.
I slowly crept up to the mound and the dog disappeared. That was OK, I was familiar with prairie dogs and knew that If I sat still eventually the dog would come up. So I stood still with my arm cocked back, the dog hole in range of my spear of death. I was waiting. Saliva leaked from the side of my mouth. (Not because I was hungry, I kind of slobbered a lot when I was a kid). I waited, and I waited. I waited for what I felt was an eternity, but in reality was probably 20 minutes. All of a sudden I saw fur, just about a quarter of an inch of prairie dog head. I knew he was breathing his last breath. Eyes, nose, mouth, body. He was mine. I threw that spear with the speed of Nolan Ryan. As it left the tip of my fingers, I felt overcome with excitement, until a brief millisecond later I realized that I had missed. All that waiting and I missed that damn prairie dog. I walked over to my spear, inspected it and threw it to the ground. I decided that I would have to plan a little better if I was going to survive on my own. So I grabbed my backpack and headed for home. I arrived home around 4:00 PM. I don't think anyone noticed that I moved out. So I grabbed a bowl of cereal and turned on the TV. I decided to run away another day.

I thought it was kind of funny, here I am 20 years later, I have found that I have run away again, not for any particular reason, maybe to see if I could do it. Just a different field this time, and am still hunting those damn prairie dogs. I am having the time of my life. It just took about 20 years of planning.
On a side note, it didn't hurt to get a hot wife to come along for company. She's kind of my consultant.

A learning weekend.

This past weekend, Cindy, Zach and I traveled to Northern Utah for a mission farewell. It was kind of a spur of the moment and Cindy pulled a wild card to get me to go. It is about a 9 hour drive and at first Cindy tried to sell it to me by saying that we could go shopping. I told her that the secret to a sell is not to try to sell something by offering something that was a reward for your self, but by offering a reward that the person you are selling it to, would want. Shopping is not something that interests me one bit. In fact I hate shopping. I am even getting to the point that I don't like shopping at sporting goods stores. Maybe I have everything? I don't know. So she hit me below the belt by saying that I could purchase a gas boat motor that I had been looking at. So of course I went. It worked out pretty good and we had a really good time. We didn't ever spend that much time shopping. It was nice to see familyand friends and even get to know family and friends that I didn't know. I learned a few things this weekend and I thought I would list them.

Lessons Learned this weekend:

1. I learned that City folks laugh at you when they ask you to go in and get a knife and you don't have to because you already have one in your pocket.

2. I learned that there are people that are crazier about duck hunting than I am.

3. I learned that Rick has a specific time set out every day to tan.

4. I learned that Rick takes his tan very seriously.

5. I learned that cats, if treated right can eventually evolve into dogs.

7. I learned that a great way to entertain kids is to teach them death and submission holds. (I hope they don't use them)

8. I learned (from church) that Rick is not Satan, and that no matter how much you like Ozzy Ozbourne you can still raise good kids.

9. I learned that the only services on the 180 mile stretch between Rock Springs and Rawlins are for fireworks and porn. (which leaves me with the question, What goes through a persons mind when they stop at the porn shop 100 miles from everything? Are you just driving along that miserable stretch of road of I80 and the thought pops into you mind...."Man this trip sucks, I've gotta see something necckid."? I mean the thought did pop into my mind about needing fireworks. But I'm a redneck, I need fireworks. (I just got confused and went to the wrong store)J/K

10. I learned that in the town of Rawlins WY. Meth is considered one of the four basic food groups.

11. I learned that if you ever needed to staff a carnival, Rawlins WY is a great place to start.

So I guess that it was a learning experience and I had a good time. It was nice to see everyone. I wouldn't even have minded one more day.