There is an island, somewhere in Michigan where I was recently privileged to visit. I am withholding the name of said island to protect it's secrecy. At any rate, suffice it to say that it is really far up there and situated in one of the Great Lakes. There, that narrows it down for you.
So, three of my brothers, as well as some friends, celebrated my illustrious father's 85 birthday while we were there! He's an amazing specimen of humanity, my Dad. For even now, despite his official status as an old fart, he seems to be able to run mental rings around the rest of us! Pretty amazing. The poor guy was very worried prior to our departure from his house, due to his belief that I didn't want him to drive. The truth of the matter is that I have just as much confidence in HIS driving abilities as I do in my own. I had mentioned that I was going to bring up my 4x4 for the trip, and he made it clear that that was NOT what he wanted to ride up in. In the end, my truck had a dead battery, and I drove a mini-van, which we left in HIS garage. We went up in my dad's 4-door sedan, of all the crazy things. Dad has made this trip many, many times and has always done so in one of his sedans, despite the at times, 4-wheel drive conditions, somehow????
At any rate, the weather was incredible, the sun shining most of the time, the trees blazing in all their glory, and the air crisp and refreshing. Ah, Michigan, I miss you.
The cabin in which we stayed is part of a very large piece of property, with miles of lakeshore to call it's own, and some really beautiful woods, fields and ponds as well. The local wildlife includes, at times, white-tailed deer, black bears, cougar or mountain lion, wolves, coyotes, foxes, raccoons, bobcats, beavers, ruffed grouse, woodcock, and many others, making that island on of the most wild in Michigan.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Monday, January 31, 2011
Late Night Ramblings
Yep, it's late. Today I became friends on Facebook with a lovely young lady, sprung from the Peoples Republic of China. She's been here for most of her short life, and is an animated little thing. I am honored to be her friend, and look forward to more amusing moments in her company. So, thanks for the friend thingy, girl! You know who you are...
It's late. I have to work tomorrow, weather permitting, at the above mentioned individuals' abode. My bud and I are remodeling the basement, which was a disaster area, and is quickly becoming the place to go. We're good, you see...
The boy, pretty boy that is, is over at his potential squeeze's house at present, watching movies. Such an odd thing, to watch your boy becoming a man. We are mistaken for one another on the phone now. I was speaking with the wife unit today, and heard the other boy in the background. I asked her, "Who is that speaking?", to which she replied, "The boy, the younger." So the younger one is now sounding like he isn't himself now, as well. What is the world coming to when you can't even recognize the voice of someone who has lived with you all their life?
Anywho, just thought I'd throw something up here.
I just checked out the blog of a young girl for Latvia. She has just finished art school, studying mostly fashion design. The girl is really good. Her name is Arta, or at least that is how she signs everything. Check her stuff out on DeviantArt, it's nice. She seems to have inspired me to do more painting. A series of large character sketches, perhaps????
Ciao,
Panchito
It's late. I have to work tomorrow, weather permitting, at the above mentioned individuals' abode. My bud and I are remodeling the basement, which was a disaster area, and is quickly becoming the place to go. We're good, you see...
The boy, pretty boy that is, is over at his potential squeeze's house at present, watching movies. Such an odd thing, to watch your boy becoming a man. We are mistaken for one another on the phone now. I was speaking with the wife unit today, and heard the other boy in the background. I asked her, "Who is that speaking?", to which she replied, "The boy, the younger." So the younger one is now sounding like he isn't himself now, as well. What is the world coming to when you can't even recognize the voice of someone who has lived with you all their life?
Anywho, just thought I'd throw something up here.
I just checked out the blog of a young girl for Latvia. She has just finished art school, studying mostly fashion design. The girl is really good. Her name is Arta, or at least that is how she signs everything. Check her stuff out on DeviantArt, it's nice. She seems to have inspired me to do more painting. A series of large character sketches, perhaps????
Ciao,
Panchito
Friday, November 5, 2010
Blessed Lake
Good friends from days gone by,
It brings a teardrop to my eye.
A pot of soup gets passed around,
For a mere month they'll be in town.
They've lived their life in a far off land,
And been amazed at the movement of His hand.
I have to smile at the change through time,
We're getting shorter with every ringing of the chime.
Their kids are grown, married off and gone,
Yeah, time flies away like a bird without a song.
You glance away, a moment gone and then,
They switch from little ones to your very best of friends.
So twenty years of living the call,
You can see in their eyes that they're in for the long haul.
They're beautiful, the image of Your face.
They're beautiful, bless their feet and bless their place.
May their house be filled with blessings for the rest of their lives,
A place to find salvation and a rest from the strife.
It brings a teardrop to my eye.
A pot of soup gets passed around,
For a mere month they'll be in town.
They've lived their life in a far off land,
And been amazed at the movement of His hand.
I have to smile at the change through time,
We're getting shorter with every ringing of the chime.
Their kids are grown, married off and gone,
Yeah, time flies away like a bird without a song.
You glance away, a moment gone and then,
They switch from little ones to your very best of friends.
So twenty years of living the call,
You can see in their eyes that they're in for the long haul.
They're beautiful, the image of Your face.
They're beautiful, bless their feet and bless their place.
May their house be filled with blessings for the rest of their lives,
A place to find salvation and a rest from the strife.
They're beautiful, the image of Your face.
They're beautiful, bless their feet and bless their place.
They're beautiful, the image of Your face.
They're beautiful, bless their feet and bless their place.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
A "New" Style of Cookstove
Tomorrow, I'll be putting together a video on my experiment on constructing a wood-chip burning cookstove. Check it out at my other blog, Survive magazine, on blogger! Click here...
http://survive-magazine.blogspot.com/
http://survive-magazine.blogspot.com/
Monday, October 25, 2010
The Inexorable Pull
It was planned ages ago. It was written after that. Time is telling the tale. Time is marching on. But the end is in sight. The end is inevitable. What has been written is irrevocable, indelible. And it HAS been written.
Look around. See the signs. They are clear, for the few. To the blind all is dark. Just as time marches on, so do the blind, stumbling toward the precipice, lemming-like in their hurry. So much jostling, so much pushing, and all toward ruin, destruction.
As one snatched from the fire, am I, are the few. I wish it could be different, but no... Only a fraction will live, a tiny portion of the whole, just as it was written, long ago.
We have to live as secret rescuers, yanking those passing by on their way to the cliff out of the crowd. In secret, yes, but boldly moving, always moving. Always asking for the next opportunity to save, like our namesake. Always laying down our lives, always striving against the tide, inevitable though it may be.
I ask myself, I ask you, have you taken every opportunity? Have you given till it actually hurt, till the blood spilled? Not yet, no. But there is still time, all is not lost.
Simple. Keep it simple. No need, nor want, for monuments or temples. We are the monuments. We are the temples. Stone is not holy, stone is not living, nor made in the image.
The shapes, the colors, the smells, the textures - all made in the image, and sacred. But not all. Only the chosen, the elected, from before time began. And after time ends, all will bow the knee, and all proclaim holy.
The evil is rising, at a compounding rate, exponentially greater, faster, harder, uglier. But it matters not. It has been written, long ago. It will surely come, and surely go.
Stand fast.
Look around. See the signs. They are clear, for the few. To the blind all is dark. Just as time marches on, so do the blind, stumbling toward the precipice, lemming-like in their hurry. So much jostling, so much pushing, and all toward ruin, destruction.
As one snatched from the fire, am I, are the few. I wish it could be different, but no... Only a fraction will live, a tiny portion of the whole, just as it was written, long ago.
We have to live as secret rescuers, yanking those passing by on their way to the cliff out of the crowd. In secret, yes, but boldly moving, always moving. Always asking for the next opportunity to save, like our namesake. Always laying down our lives, always striving against the tide, inevitable though it may be.
I ask myself, I ask you, have you taken every opportunity? Have you given till it actually hurt, till the blood spilled? Not yet, no. But there is still time, all is not lost.
Simple. Keep it simple. No need, nor want, for monuments or temples. We are the monuments. We are the temples. Stone is not holy, stone is not living, nor made in the image.
The shapes, the colors, the smells, the textures - all made in the image, and sacred. But not all. Only the chosen, the elected, from before time began. And after time ends, all will bow the knee, and all proclaim holy.
The evil is rising, at a compounding rate, exponentially greater, faster, harder, uglier. But it matters not. It has been written, long ago. It will surely come, and surely go.
Stand fast.
Saturday, October 23, 2010
In From The Wilderness...
I'm back. A wilderness it is becoming, more and more, as it was in days of yore. I speak of the wonderful island from which I've recently returned, Tuesday, that is.
We had a grand time of it, my brothers, father and I, as well as several blasts from the past - friends of the family. The barley pop was flowing, to most if not all. Cards were played in abundance. Testosterone was hanging thickly in the air, punctuated by a thin veil of estrogen - mostly in the cookhouse. The lake was lovely, with it's breakers crashing on the shoreline, in every way looking like it could be nothing other than an arm of the some northern ocean, just lacking the salt. The almost constant breeze was whispering through the branches and needles of the pines, cedars, and spruces, carrying along the rich scent of conifers wherever it went. The earthy scent of birch and aspen leaves, freshly fallen on the fertile soils, was like a perfume to my senses in the depths of the forests.
My various companions and I spent hours stalking through the woods, leaves softly crunching under foot, as we sought the elusive avian denizens of the boreal forests there - the ruffed grouse, and woodcock. Both of these birds were to be found in abundance, a product of the wide variety and quantities of foodstuffs in those fertile forests.
The wildlife of ages past seem to be showing up in greater abundance in the region. There have been reported sitings of cougar/puma/mountain lions, wolves, coyotes, bears, and moose on Drummond Island, right outside the doors of the cabin where we stayed! My brother told of an incident where another party of gents were in the cabin, doing the usual sorts of things done there, i.e. card playing, etc., when a black bear shoved his burly front paw through a glass window of the cookhouse, nabbed a gallon can of goodies, crushing it, and left with a mouthful of their food, and perhaps a tail-full of lead - not long ago.
While we were there, one of the deer hunters was in his tree stand, over-looking a pile of apples, carrots, and sugar beets, watching a deer approach, when the deer spooked, due to the sound of another approaching animal - a bear. The bear ended up directly below the hunter, who's knees were shaking uncontrollably. The hunter succeeded in shooing the bear away in the end, but was looking out for a larger one that might have caused him more problems, like happened to someone from his city recently - momma-bear problems.
Anyway, we made it back safely, but miss being there greatly.
I will post some photos of our trip when my family sends them to me, for all to see and enjoy.
Ciao,
Panchito
We had a grand time of it, my brothers, father and I, as well as several blasts from the past - friends of the family. The barley pop was flowing, to most if not all. Cards were played in abundance. Testosterone was hanging thickly in the air, punctuated by a thin veil of estrogen - mostly in the cookhouse. The lake was lovely, with it's breakers crashing on the shoreline, in every way looking like it could be nothing other than an arm of the some northern ocean, just lacking the salt. The almost constant breeze was whispering through the branches and needles of the pines, cedars, and spruces, carrying along the rich scent of conifers wherever it went. The earthy scent of birch and aspen leaves, freshly fallen on the fertile soils, was like a perfume to my senses in the depths of the forests.
My various companions and I spent hours stalking through the woods, leaves softly crunching under foot, as we sought the elusive avian denizens of the boreal forests there - the ruffed grouse, and woodcock. Both of these birds were to be found in abundance, a product of the wide variety and quantities of foodstuffs in those fertile forests.
The wildlife of ages past seem to be showing up in greater abundance in the region. There have been reported sitings of cougar/puma/mountain lions, wolves, coyotes, bears, and moose on Drummond Island, right outside the doors of the cabin where we stayed! My brother told of an incident where another party of gents were in the cabin, doing the usual sorts of things done there, i.e. card playing, etc., when a black bear shoved his burly front paw through a glass window of the cookhouse, nabbed a gallon can of goodies, crushing it, and left with a mouthful of their food, and perhaps a tail-full of lead - not long ago.
While we were there, one of the deer hunters was in his tree stand, over-looking a pile of apples, carrots, and sugar beets, watching a deer approach, when the deer spooked, due to the sound of another approaching animal - a bear. The bear ended up directly below the hunter, who's knees were shaking uncontrollably. The hunter succeeded in shooing the bear away in the end, but was looking out for a larger one that might have caused him more problems, like happened to someone from his city recently - momma-bear problems.
Anyway, we made it back safely, but miss being there greatly.
I will post some photos of our trip when my family sends them to me, for all to see and enjoy.
Ciao,
Panchito
Thursday, October 7, 2010
New Post
Catchy name, no? I thought you'd like it.
Anyway, where was I? No where really. So today, or rather yesterday, since it's now past midnight, was/is my birthday! Happy birthday, me! Thanks. I'm getting older now, nearing the big 5 0. That, at one time, was REALLY old in my eyes. Now, not so much. I can still work a huge portion of the population under the table. My back is not what it used to be, my knees are in the same boat as well. My hair seems to be moving in a southerly direction, toward the back of my neck. My wife has me on alternative treatments, starting today. This must be some sort of "hinge" day, a pivotal moment in my life. Why did she wait till THIS day to get me on said "Program"? The answers to these, and many other questions are simply beyond me. I'll have to get back to you on that.
It's sleepy time. Good night.
Panchito
Anyway, where was I? No where really. So today, or rather yesterday, since it's now past midnight, was/is my birthday! Happy birthday, me! Thanks. I'm getting older now, nearing the big 5 0. That, at one time, was REALLY old in my eyes. Now, not so much. I can still work a huge portion of the population under the table. My back is not what it used to be, my knees are in the same boat as well. My hair seems to be moving in a southerly direction, toward the back of my neck. My wife has me on alternative treatments, starting today. This must be some sort of "hinge" day, a pivotal moment in my life. Why did she wait till THIS day to get me on said "Program"? The answers to these, and many other questions are simply beyond me. I'll have to get back to you on that.
It's sleepy time. Good night.
Panchito
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