Warning: Religious Thoughts to Follow

I recently came across this meme which was very timely considering my church just celebrated The Passover on Sunday evening (we keep the Holy Days outlined in the Old Testament modified as specifically demonstrated by Jesus Christ His Own Self in the New Testament). Passover, for the uninitiated, is one such Old Testament Holy Day which dates back to the Book of Exodus when the children of Israel put the blood of a lamb on their door posts and lintels so that the Death Angel would  literally pass over their house during the final plague of Egypt in which the first born were killed. The Old Testament commanded that the Israelites celebrate the Passover every year as a memorial to how God brought them out of Egypt. 

By the time of Christ, the ceremony had become more of a lavish and relaxed meal. Christ changed things up a bit at "The Last Supper" (which was a Passover meal immediately before He was arrested and condemned to death). He taught His disciples about the new meaning of the Passover which included the breaking/eating of bread and sipping of wine to symbolize the broken body of Christ and His shed blood for the remission of our sins. Other places in scripture say that Christ took the beating leading up to His Cruxifiction so that we could be healed. The main thing that Christ did during that ceremony was wash the feet of His followers as an act of humility and service. 

It is that act of service and humility that is a core practice in my church that baptized members perform every year as a solemn reminder of what He did for us. Most every year, we get a sermon or two leading up to The Passover talking about all the familiar bits about the bread, wine, the sacrifice, etc. Rarely does a minister focus on the foot washing. So, that is why struck me so strongly this year.

I tend to be a caretaker type personality to begin with, and acts of service come pretty naturally to me. That said, the point that brought me up short was that He KNEW He was going to die, He could have done ANYTHING, and He chose to wash the feet of his disciples. 

I admit that, when I run through the things I might want to do if I knew I was going to die tomorrow, washing feet is not at the top of that list. If I am being perfectly honest, it's not even in the top 10. That said, I would want to take those last few hours and spend as much of it with my wife and daughter and those close to me as I possibly could. 

We only get one chance at this ride, and there are no guarantees, do overs, returns or refunds. Make the most of  it of the time you are given. 

 

14 Years and Counting

 I wasn't paying attention, and I failed to realize that this little blog's birthdate came and went last week completely unnoticed. That makes this little corner of the interwebs older than my daughter. Who'd a thunk it?

According to Blogger, this is my 750TH post, something over 700,000 page views since we drove this puppy off the lot, a little over 3000 comments probably half of which are mine since I am in the habit of trying to respond to everyone's comments here, and a very rough estimate of anywhere from 250 to 450 people who come here for their meme fix when I collect enough to make it worth everyone's time. 

I'm on my fifth residence and fifth job (not including temp positions) since starting the blog. There was a brief dalliance with law school in there. Six foster kids, one successful adoption, one failed attempted adoption, two layoffs and a firing. 

We took care of The Queen's parents and went through The Long Goodbye with Alzheimer's in The Queen Mum. I suppose you could say we've covered a lot of ground here in these posts. 

Thinking back on the people who have visited here and left their tracks in the comments of these posts, I have appreciated the opportunity to connect with a variety of people even if only at a distance or, in rare cases, in person. I do wonder sometimes what happened to some of the people who seem to have moved on without a word. Kymber, Mr. Daddy, Jane of Virginia, Mel and others were quite active in the comments early in this blog's life. I hope you all are doing well in wherever part of life you find yourselves. 

Others have come along and taken up the helm of frequent commenters. Cederq, Bear Claw Chris and Big Macus to name a few. Thank you all for taking the time. I know I am terrible at commenting (mainly because I don't have ready access to a technology solution that will allow me to sign in to Blogger to make a comment on a regular basis). 

Anyway, I know I'm not the most frequent poster and there are probably squirrels with more consistency of thought than I. Hopefully, I give you a smile, a chuckle or something to think about once in a while. Nonetheless, thanks for dropping by. 

Take a moment to drop a note in the comments. I look forward to seeing you there. 

Is This Thing Still On?

There are lots of euphemisms I could use to explain my relative absence from this space for the last five months. Suffice it to say, much has transpired since we last saw our hero relocating to the supposed peace and tranquility of east Texas. I’m still looking for the proverbial country record that I can play backwards to get stuff back not the least of which is my sanity. 

So, let’s set the Wayback Machine for early May when we closed on the “new” old house. 

That was supposed to be a happy day. I was really looking forward to moving in and getting settled after all the chaos from the preceding year. 

Sigh….such was not to be. 

Once we took possession of the house and were able to get in a look around at what needed doing, The Queen immediately noticed the overwhelming odor of cat urine. It took a few minutes, but it finally penetrated my nasal passages which are not the greatest sniffers on a good day. A trip to Lowe’s for a UV Flashlight revealed that, yes, indeed, the prior owners cats' had sprayed everywhere all over the house. The worst of it was the living room. A quick inspection of the walls in the living room revealed that what we thought was painted sheetrock was, in fact, painted wallpaper over sheetrock. 

Well, thinks I, that’s a simple matter of removing the wallpaper (in a room roughly 15’ wide 19’ long with 12’ ceilings….I am such an optimist) and painting the walls underneath. 

 Let’s just say that Murphy is a dirty rotten scoundrel who hates me personally. 

 If you were not aware, East Texas is, in addition to being as hot as the rest of Satan’s outhouse in the summer, humid as steam bath. Why is this important? Well, we discovered through careful research that exterior walls that have wallpaper in a humid environment with HVAC will trap moisture and make for the perfect conditions to grow mold and mildew. 

Guess what we found behind the wallpaper in the living room? If you guessed mold and mildew, give yourself a gold star. Guess who has a major allergy to mold and mildew? If you guessed The Queen and M&M, give yourself another gold star. 

 Not happy making for Daddy Hawk. 

In addition to trying to get settled and keep work going, now I have to figure out how to get rid of mold and mildew off of sheetrock and find a place for The Queen and M&M to hide while doing so. 

 To add insult to injury, my boss called 17 days later and let me know my services were no longer required for the company. 

Well, POOP and other assorted four letter words. They claimed performance issues were the reason. I’ve never missed a deadline or failed to respond to matters timely. Yes, the preceding year or two were a challenge with caring for The Queen mum and dealing with the aftermath of her death, but who wouldn’t have challenges under those circumstances. So much for care and compassion and “work / life balance”. 

So, there I sit. Haven’t made the first payment on the mortgage, no job, a major project to deal with and a house that is unlivable for 2 out of the 3 members of the household. I did the only thing a rationale person could do. I called my realtor and asked what it would take to get the house back on the market. 

Over the next month and a half, I (with some help from The Queen), removed all the wallpaper from the living and study, discovered a water leak in the skylights (which were later determined to have been improperly installed in the distant past), hired a contractor to fix the skylights, painted the living room, hired another contractor to texture the study walls and master bath ceiling and did my best to keep up with the lawn care, car maintenance and job searching. 

We finally got the house on the market, and it sold for full price within a couple of weeks. Fortunately, I was able to land a temporary gig starting right before the closing on the sale of the house which allowed us to rent an apartment back in the Dallas area while we get our feet back under us. There were some other trials in the interim which are not terribly critical to our current story. The temp gig lasted a little over a month before I landed a better temp to hire gig with another company that is much more to my liking and pays better to boot. A big bonus with this job is that it is 100% remote meaning I can pretty much work from anywhere. 

Things are looking up overall. The Queen and M&M are doing much better now that they are in an apartment with no mold. My boss is happy with my work so far. So, hopefully the job will convert to permanent before the end of the year. 

So, the saga continues. Just not in the direction we thought.

Where's Daddy Hawk Been?

Inquiring minds, or at least Cederq, expressed some mild concern that we here at Preachers and Horse Thieves had fled the coop for the dark side and forgot to turn off the lights or leave a forwarding address. Such is not the case. 

Although, he mentioned something about cookies AND pie...might have to investigate that a little further.

Life, as usual, has stampeded through my free time and taken what little extra bandwidth I had set aside for blogging for a glorious white water rafting adventure down the toilet bowl. 

The main reason behind all of this has been the rapid decline of The Queen's mum, Oma. As reported in previous updates, Oma has been developing a case of Alzheimer's for quite some time now. She was formally diagnosed in September with "Stage 6 Dementia/Alzheimer's". At that time, she was still able to walk relatively well, unassisted for normal distances to/from parking lots, etc. She would still feed herself for the most part. 

Now...sheesh. Wow. You would not recognize her from September to now. She is homebound now, unable to stand or walk without assistance, and she is forgetting to swallow her food. The OMA we knew is gone. In late December, I burned several days of vacation time to get home health aides set up, discuss funeral arrangements and finally get her approved for hospice. The hospice folks have been wonderful. They even came to the house on New Year's Day to do the formal assessment so that I wouldn't have to take another day off from work. 

There is a lot of internal family drama that would be very cathartic to write about but which would probably bore you to tears and only wind up widening the rift into a gulf. As I told The Queen the other day, I will stand before God on Judgment Day to answer for my mistakes. How I've handled the care of her parents won't be one of them. Others in the family will have some answering to do. That's  all that needs to be said about that in this forum. 

So, I haven't gone anywhere. I promise I will give this blog a proper shut down if it ever comes to that. Due to higher priorities, posting will remain light with scattered bursts of my usual drivel and humor when possible as The Queen and I are handling the majority of the care giving with hospice assistance. 

Happy Blogiversary To Me

I've been a bit busy, and I let an important milestone slip past without nary a whisper. Behold, back in August, this little corner of the internet turned 10. Imagine my surprise. 

I've been in the process of saving my posts to Word documents for later compilation. Don't ask my why. It seemed like a good idea at this time. In the process, I couldn't help but re-read a lot of what I've written; and, frankly, I'm amazed that some of you have hung on as long as you have. There are the occasional rare gems tucked away here and there, but a lot of what I've written is pretty meh (you may have a differing opinion, and that's fine). 

One of these days, I might just put together a "best of" post to link to some of those gems that some of you late comers might have missed along the way. 

Anyway, thank you to everyone for hanging around. Drop a comment or two once in a while if you are so inclined. No promises, but I'm going to try and kick out more content beyond just funny (to me) memes. There are several posts queued up for this coming week. I hope you enjoy. 

Miscellaneous, Randomness and Other Stuff

In no particular order, I thought I would open the tap a little bit and relieve some pressure in the blog material accumulator before things get too jumbled up.

In the Frankensteinian "Fire Bad!" category, Number One Follower had an unfortunate incident in his home shop a while back. To add insult to misfortune, it was were the bulk of his firearms and associated accessories were stored. Neither NOF nor his wife were home at the time. Fortunately, a neighbor called NOF and the fire department before things got too out of control. That also triggered calls from NOF to the FD that there was ammunition and such in the shop. I also got a call to come assist with removing items as necessary. The fire department investigator said the fire was accidental. Based on the area of origin, the most likely culprit is faulty/damaged wiring. The good news is that NOF has pretty good insurance and should come out of the deal in pretty good shape overall. 

Formerly a plastic shelving unit full of ammunition. 

Ruger Precision Rifle with heat damaged barrel

The Queen and I decided it was high time for some one on one quality time not too long ago. We love our daughter, M&M dearly and will and have taken her pretty much everywhere with us. So, it was not much of a surprise to either of us that it had been more than 7 years since the two of us had taken  solo getaway. Plans were hatched, and we hoped in The Queen's chariot for a long weekend jaunt down to Corpus Christi. I should make a brief side note here. Anytime The Queen is in the car, her eyes are invariably drawn to animals in distress. This trip was no different. I was in the passenger seat, head down, working (being able to work from literally anywhere there is a half way decent cellular data connection has huge advantages for me) when I hear a gasp from the driver's seat.

I asked what the function was, and The Queen informed me that she saw a cat in the center median of the highway. Said highway being 1-35 in Kyle, TX just south of Austin which is six lanes of NAFTA's main thoroughfare in the US. So, I told The Queen to flip a U-turn at the next exit and go back in search of the feline. The Queen was conflicted for a moment between her concern for the cat and her desire not to ruin our trip. I reminded her that, if we did not make efforts to resolve the mystery of said feline's fate, The Queen would spend the rest of the trip worrying about it.

After a failed first attempt to relocate the fur ball, we were able reacquire the ungrateful fur turd cat on The Queen's pet radar with the second north/south U-turn circuit. Not wanting to spook the cat into running into the highway and also being fairly certain that the center median was not wide enough for the chariot, I had The Queen Park in the outside shoulder. After assessing the chances of making it across and back more or less in one piece, I found a narrow window in traffic through which I could reasonably shamble across three lanes of interstate without getting flattened by a semi or causing a soccer mom to panic stop a mini van.

Then, I began the process of trying to convince Kitty McDeathwish that I was a really nice guy who was not with the government but "here to help.(TM)" After a couple of tentative crouching duck walks and sidling shuffles, I was able to get within sniffing distance of the cat. He/she/it? (we were never on first gender basis with each other) gave me a cursory sniff before allowing me to touch its head briefly before retreating back out of arms length. After several more tense moments of getting back into arm's length and watching traffic (you'd be surprised at how many people can't stay between the lines [I'm looking at you white Ford SUV...you're lucky I didn't slash your tires]), I spotted a window in the traffic that offered a reasonable chance of success, grabbed a double handful of fur, and commenced to hoofing it back across the highway. The cat was pissed off thoroughly unamused and expressed its displeasure by trying to eviscerate my arm. Fortunately,  my wind breaker took most of the  abuse. Once we reached the grassy shoulder, I engaged the catapult and released it in the tall grass of the shoulder fully realizing we weren't done with the rescue yet.

Your Truly, trying to garner the trust of a feral cat and questioning my life choices.

After assuring myself that I was not bleeding to death and retrieving a bottle of water and a wet wipe from the car to wash the cat spit off my arm and out of the puncture wounds, I returned to my efforts to complete the rescue of the bag full of razor blades just in time to receive the assistance of one of Kyle PD's finest. We had to herd the cat (literally) to a spot where we could grab it. I got a grip on it just before it tried to imitate a speed bump in the highway again. This time, the cat got up under the sleeve of my jacket and did it's level best to chew my arm off. I handed the ugly, pointy thing off to the officer who, wisely, was wearing mechanics gloves and a bullet proof vest. He escorted the cat across the service road into the woods on the other side where it was released into the relative safety of the country side.

No good deed goes unpunished.

After thanking the officer and stopping the bleeding (again), we made tracks to the nearest Starbucks for a more thorough clean up with hot water in the restroom. I'll be darned if those puncture wounds didn't bleed most of the rest of the day. They were pretty tender for the next several days too. As of this writing a couple of weeks post rescue, I still have one puncture that is still scabbed over and serving as a reminder to wear armor and bring tazers when dealing with stray cats.

M&M continues to grow like a weed. She just finished the second grade, she got a gold medal at her piano theory test, auditioned for the national piano guild and is generally continuing to be her amazing self.

Tinkle and Taco keeping a watchful eye on the pups. 

The puppies are also growing like weeds. They are inseparable. Literally. Take one away, and they both whine and cry like they've been beaten. This, of course, creates cute and humorous moments.

Dawww...the cute version of spooning

The funny version of  spooning

Oma's Alzheimer's continues its inevitable march down the drain. While generally happy when she is riding in the car or watching TV with Opa, she has developed a stubborn and belligerent streak when asked/told to do something she does not want to do...which is pretty much anything other than ride in a car or watch TV. She has also rediscovered cursing; and, while not ideal, we are thankful she latched on to "Sh*t!" instead of the universal adjective.

Lastly, we were sad to learn this past week of the passing of a long term church acquaintance of ours. I have known/been acquainted with this family for over 20 years now, and my wife has known them even longer. The family is no one special in terms of wealth or fame. They are just good people. When The Queen was going through her mystery illness and I was stuck commuting between Dallas and Houston because of work, I would call the husband semi-regularly just to have someone to talk to on the long drive. They had six kids who are all grown now.  We found out a while back that the wife had been diagnosed with cancer; and, more recently, we found out that she was bedridden and on hospice care. We took a "day off" from work to drive out to their place to visit (they live a couple hours east of us), catch up and generally give encouragement in whatever way we could.

During our visit, the wife said something that really struck me as profound. She was talking about how her bedridden state has left her totally at the mercy of others for her care most of which falls to her husband. The thing that struck me was when she said this was not what she had in mind when they said their marriage vows. She said this was not what she wanted for her husband to have to care for her and clean her and watch her in that state.

That got me to thinking. Most people say their marriage vows without ever really thinking about what they are promising or giving even a moment's thought about what the future may hold. I know I didn't really comprehend it at the time either. Everyone focuses on the "to have and to hold" and forgets about the "in sickness and in health" or "for richer or for poorer" parts of the vows. She told us that she had to learn the hard way what those vows really meant. The Queen and I understood what she meant.

She passed away peacefully surrounded by her family. I know her husband would trade anything to have her back with him and healthy, but they fulfilled their marriage vows in every sense of the word. That's increasingly rare these days. I count myself blessed to have my Queen by my side as we continue fulfilling our vows.

Wednesday Wackiness?

It's been a while since I've posted anything. Maybe I'll fill the gaps soon. Maybe I won't. Been traveling. Been caring for the family. Been working. The usual. More to follow eventually when I get around to it. In the meantime, have some random humor.

Personally, I think this is overkill. I'll just great him at the door with a Marlin 1895 in .45-70 and a 1911 in .45. That should get the point across nicely.

Took a quick work road trip yesterday, and The Queen and M&M went with. M&M forgot to bring things to occupy her time and discovered the joys of watching the scenery pass by. She was less than amused.

Without Google, without Wikipedia, without cell phones, without computers for the most part. I started college with an electric typewriter.

AMEN!

This is far too subtle. You need to be close. Close enough for him to hear the sound of your bowie knife on the whetstone.

Chances are good they have experience.

Mexican Machiattos from Yummy's Cafe on South Padre Island are just dark enough for me to plan...nevermind.

Never...ever...THINK  about doing this to a redhead. You'll die. Your soul will be tortured. Your memory will be deep fried in a vat of liquified body parts....

You will never, ever, look at a bowl of dip the same again.

M&M-isms

Here a while back, a little over two years ago to be more specific but no more precise, I wrote a quick post about some of M&M's cuter vocabulary choices. It had about the average number of page views but was an underloved and uncommented post. These things happen. I don't expect comments on every single post from every single reader. I do this for my own sanity. Your comments, while greatly appreciated and always well received, are a side benefit of my own self prescribed mental therapy.

So, of course, I have to add to it since M&M the Wonder Midget (a term of endearment she hates) continues to grow and develop which includes adding to her verbal repertoire.

First, a visual point of reference.

M&M is addicted to these things. Anytime we are on a road trip and stop at a gas station, truck stop or convenience store, large or small, she asks if they have any of these "sucky juicy things". She is, of course, enamored with the cartoon character tops. She has a pretty complete set of the Paw Patrol characters as well as a few others. Anytime we stop, she pipes up with "Can I go inside with Dad?" The Queen and I know what she's hinting at, but we don't care. It's cute. I will say, these buggers are pretty pricey for the amount of  juice you get out of them though.

The second M&Mism that I am recording for posterity is her new term of endearment for dear old dad (that'd be me). At random times, she will call for me by the name "Dadwah" (she says it pretty much like it's spelled..."dad wah" with the "wah" slightly drawn out for effect). Which, of course, endears me to her even more than normal.

One of these days, I'm getting a hat with that embroidered on it. Maybe a nice polo shirt with that embroidered over a pocket.

I just hope she keeps being cute and coming up with fun ways to look at the world. It's a lot more interesting that way.

Advice for M&M

1. "Murphy hates you. Personally." - LawDog 

See Murphy's Law. Most people don't know this, but there really was a Murphy. According to the generally accepted story, he was an engineer working on the program to develop the first jet aircraft ejection seats. While he never uttered the infamous and eponymous law in it's currently accepted form, he did say something that evoked the spirit of the law which was later paraphrased and attributed to him. 

2. Gravity sucks. Corollary - it's not just a good idea, it's a law.

3. Treat electricity with respect. See #1. Remind me one of these days to tell you the story of why I never trusted Granddaddy Aubrey. If anyone ever asks you to hold a spark plug wire, the answer is an emphatic "NO!!!" unless they agree that you will be holding it against their most sensitive anatomy.

4. Behind every warning label is an idiot with a lawyer. As the saying goes, I'm not advocating killing all the stupid people. I'm just saying let's remove all the warnings and let nature take its course. 

5. "Be nice until it's time to not be nice" Patrick Swayze as John Dalton in Roadhouse. The United States Marine Corps General John Mattis version is also instructive: "Be polite, be professional, but have a plan to kill everybody you meet."

6. There is no moral superiority in being a dead victim. God makes allowances for self defense, and turning the other cheek has nothing to do with meekly waiting for a bullet or a knife. If attacked, fight like you are the third monkey in line for the ark...and brother it's starting to rain. 

7. "It is easy to critique in leisure what a person had to do in haste." YouTuber/Firearms Trainer Paul Harrell

The longer version of this quote in the same video discussing the 1986 Miami FBI Shootout is: "It's very easy with the leisure of years to think about it what others did when they had seconds to decide on a course of action." Corollary: Hindsight is 20/20. Learn from the mistakes of other, and be thankful you didn't have to make that mistake yourself. However, don't fall into the trap of thinking you could/would have done better under the same circumstances. 

8. Napoleon Bonaparte's maxim, "Never interrupt your enemy when he is making a mistake". 

Huh...9 Years of This And Counting

According to my blog archives, I started this little train wreck 9 years ago today. Thank you to all that are still lurking in the shadows and those brave enough to admit they read my infrequent ramblings.

I can't say what the next 9 years holds, but I'll give it my best shot.

Monday Madness