Another Haitian Holiday

In a little more than 17 hours Betty will be hitting the bricks, pounding the pavement, and taking to the sky’s; that’s right folks the world is my oyster and I have an overwhelming urge to find a pearl.   I am traveling once again to the country of Haiti on a mission.  For those of you following my blog, you will remember what a moving and profound experience this 10 day excursion was to my meager existence here on earth.  Last year at this time I found myself rediscovered, enlightened, exhausted, and filled with joy all at the same time.

10 days of hard labor filled with team building, camaraderie, interaction, injuries and the word of God spread with zeal by the locals we assisted.  10 days of learning another culture, making new friends and easing a small town’s burden, even if just for a little while.  10 whole days, 10 WHOLE DAYS!

Well ladies and gentlemen it will be another 10 days, but this time the adventure has been taken up a notch!   Brought to a different level, the bar has been raised and standards for performance put under an eye of scrutiny.  You see this year there will be no hammers, no bolt cutters, no saw blades, no drills, oh no for this year we carry not suitcases filled with hundreds of pounds of construction materials but pound after pound of medical supplies! This year we are arriving with a dental team! A dental team whose sole mission is to bring a smile to the faces of a small fishing village on the island of La Gonave!

After arriving in Haiti and staying our first night at the fabulous United Methodist Church guest house, our team will be carted off to the port where a boat will await our arrival for transportation to the island of La Gonave! Oh yes you read right, a BOAT! Survive the 7 hour flight then survive the 3 hour tour aboard the SS Haiti! Sounds like adventure at its finest! Now this is no ordinary boat mind you, it is a sloop, a sailboat, it is something straight from 1954! As long as it floats and holds all our gear I am ok, yet somehow the thought of taking the “three hour tour” has left me a tad weary as I am certain both Ginger and Mary Ann will not be accompanying me on this maiden voyage! Oh Well…..

So stay tuned as I have powered up a new laptop, broken out my best dictionary and am poised ready to write about what looks to be an incredible adventure!

Gilligan

A head in the sand

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Oh life would be so infinetly grand, if I lived it like most with my head in the sand

There would be no hunger, there could be no strife

Each day would bring joy not the taking of life

Those who are accused could do so un-judged

A mistake forgotten a reputation un-smudged

Oh life would be so infinitely grand, if I lived it like most with my head in the sand

Women would be considered on the same plane

While chivalry stayed true our manners not tamed

Equality for all would surely make us smile

While punishing those who are striving will cease bringing denial

Oh life would be so infinitely grand, if I lived it like most with my head in the sand

Politicians would serve one or two terms

Then return to normal jobs and quit leaching like worms

With my head in the sand people’s voices are heard without wealth’s dictation

Our appreciation for those who stand tall would be with just admiration

Oh life would be so infinitely grand, if I lived it like most with my head in the sand

Military members are held with the highest regards

While convicted criminals, thieves, scoundrels are called just what they are

Our monies to taxes are used for just purpose

Our budgets are balanced and left with a surplus

Oh life would be so infinitely grand, if I lived it like most with my head in the sand

We’d care for one another like brothers, like sisters

No fighting or bullying, emotional scars bulging like blisters

A country as one that’s just what we’d be without our heads in the sand like you and like me

Oh life would be so infinitely grand, if I lived it like most with my head in the sand

The cost of a gallon gas would mean nothing to me

With my head in the sand I am rich I am free

Everyone would drive their vehicle of choice

Burning clean, or electric,  we all have a voice

Oh life would be so infinitely grand, if I lived it like most with my head in the sand

A house we could own, or rent, a place we could live

The banks couldnt screw us with money to give

With my head in the sand, all lending is fair

Interest rates don’t matter, bankruptcy is rare

Oh life would be so infinitely grand, if I lived it like most with my head in the sand

a world without over population that is where we would live

No starvation, no hunger, no diseases to give

All Gods children have food and fresh water, clean clothes for their backs

Not milk cartons for shoes, their lives lived from a sack

With my head in the sand life will bring me no stress, what do I care about life’s ultimate mess!

I will stay here not heard from, content uninspired. A life filled with darkness my selfishness mired. For you see it’s not my problem, and soon my life will have passed, with my head in the sand the world see’s only my ass.

That is the legacy I’ll leave far behind. A life truly wasted, time spent so unkind. For the selfish only center themselves on one thing.  With my head in the sand I am my own king.

If any of the problems I have listed above, make you crazy, or ring true. Then your head is not in the sand, hurray! Good for you! Now do something about it for time it is fleeting!  Then we can share stories at heavens gate, where one day we all will be meeting!

God put us here for a reason and it’s not to be sedentary. Make a change, do some good, I promise it’s not too much burden to carry.

LIFE IS MUCH BETTER WITH YOUR FACE IN SUN!

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Can you? Could you?

 

Today, if you will indulge me; I feel as though I need to take a little break from writing about the trials and tribulations that befall a family of six living on a farm.

There have been no postings from me for a few days now because; well to be honest I have been in a bit of a funk.  Then last night it hit me, after a long conversation with a dear friend, my brain flooded into neural overload and like riding a DeLorean back through time, images once again began to appear. I don’t like it when they arrive as they do so without cause or care, but it was at that moment I realized it was time to write about them.

These images are like none anyone would ever want to see.  They haunt me from time to time and ruin just about every moment of my life in some strange way or another.  They come and go as they choose, sometimes in the middle of the day, other times late at night.  When I am asleep they wreak havoc upon my subconscious awakening me to sweat, cold and fear.  Some nights they are so real I have to walk our house, stepping into every room while telling myself; “it is just a dream.”  There are other times when nighttime dreams become so bizarre it seems they should be uses as the basis for writing a novel. As though notes should be created, characters molded and then reap the rewards of a story well crafted.  But even as bizarre as they can become I am still able to recognize the truth within their core.

As many of you who follow my blog know I am a firefighter.  As a firefighter there are certain things we just don’t talk about amongst ourselves or our family.  Or when we do we try our best to find the humor in a sad or sick situation.  Laughter has always been the best medicine and if we can find just one thing humorous about any incident we then take a moment to laugh at ourselves eventually feeling better about the outcome. We (firefighters) also refuse to discuss these “things” outside of our close-knit circles. Leaving the general public in the blind, it is done out of fear for the reaction it may evoke. But truth be told we are our own worst enemies, therefore I am about to break that rule and hopefully you will understand why in the end.

Death, dismemberment, murder, burned and injured people, the stupidity of human nature, sickness, physical abuse (spousal, child, partner etc), drug dependency, alcoholism, and the myriad of sick and twisted things human beings can do to each other and themselves. Not just once in a while, not just what is perceived as truth in the news, but on a daily basis.

We see it all, and no matter how much we try, what we see never goes away and there is nothing anyone can do about that.  Oh sure we have Critical Stress Debriefings (CSD) to help us deal with our emotions.  Everyone sits through them and nods their heads like sheep (me included), each one stating we are “OK”. We have councilors at our disposal, both through our agencies and as part of our health care package, and they do a fine job of once again helping you to understand the basis for your concern, the pattern behind your thoughts and a mental picture of how to evaluate then project the positive image you desire hoping to remedy a current mental hindrance.  But the fact still remains the same. These “things” we see never go away, burned in our skulls for eternity.

When starting in the fire service 18 years ago us probationary firefighters lined up for a presentation from our Chief.  He proceeded to tell us there were incidents we would never forget and mental pictures that would stay with us for life.  Our job was not for the weak of heart and over the length of our careers would weigh on us heavily.  As young cocky cadets we laughed that nervous laugh that so many young people do when puffing out their chests to show manly superiority.  Then afterwards we all joked around with comments like; “that will never happen to me” and “what kind of wuss would ever be sickened by blood and guts”.  Then off we went into our careers to face the unknown secretly praying we WOULD see it all! Just to prove him wrong.

And over the years I have seen plenty and it hasn’t been pretty.

Now I am not complaining by any means! I LOVE my job! It really does define who I am as a person. This career has become everything I ever dreamed it would be and there a thousands of people we have helped during the very worst day of their lives. But over the last couple of years with all the budget constraints, people losing their jobs, and money becoming tight, we (firefighters) have consistently come under attack from the general public, politicians and just about anyone who has an axe to grind. I don’t mind, what I have done, what my fellow brothers and sisters have done over the years far outweighs any mealy mouthing some politician can do. But when its the public, the very people we care about, or when its people you actually know who live within your response area and have protected for many years with pride. Well I don’t care who you are it just hurts. 

So let me move forward by saying, this job has never, ever been about money, (although I found it interesting today that a sheet rockers income per hour is double mine)it has never been about the reported “days off” even though we work almost double the reported “easy 10 day schedule” we supposedly keep.  This job has never been about the retirement. Although, never will I cower and lower my head as so many do when the topic of our supposed “Golden ticket” retirement comes up.  Like we as firefighters should be ashamed of the retirement system we fought so hard for and “hold onto your hats people”; paid for out of our own pockets! Not 100% funded by the people’s money as continually reported by those willing to throw our futures away! Yes we can retire at 50! So what! Statistics show time and again the majority of us will be dead from carcinogenic cancers, blood borne pathogens, and heart attacks within 10 years of retirement! And the majority of us won’t get the luxury of retiring at 50 anyways! It’s just an option there for the lucky few who have 30 years in by 50!  The vast majority of us will work until we are 60-65!

But even after all that, even after we have been bashed for being recliner sitting, engine polishing, self-proclaimed heroes who live off the tax payers dime! I wonder if any of them understand the little mental gift we have all been given from minutes, hours, days and years of seeing the things we see? Is there a dollar amount for that? Is there? Then I wonder while their mouths are engaged and their self-absorbed brains are frozen could they do it? I don’t mean the job, but live through the after effects? Could you? Can you? Seriously, I am not trying to be malicious or indignant or even belittling, but could you?

Can you stand in your driveway watching your son drive away knowing the number one cause of teen deaths their first year behind the wheel is vehicle accidents? Then have your mind flooded with horrible images from every accident involving teenagers you have responded to over the last 18 years resulting in death, dismemberment and sorrow, transposing your sons face upon those that perished and their ghastly outcome!  Can you sleep when he isn’t home yet? Will you stay calm when you can’t get a hold of him on his cell phone, while more images pound at your brain? Could you?

Can you board a plane without starting to sweat and sit quietly during engine throttle up without a care in the world while secretly you are observing every exit, profiling people’s personalities so you will know if this plane goes down who you will have to be very direct too while helping get survivors off the plane.  Or are you able to make the flight without multiple panic attacks about it plummeting into the ground killing all aboard.  Can you sit there and not picture a fire churning its way down the center aisle, burning people while you stay low, trying to figure out how to help? Can you?

Can you hold an infant enjoying its very innocence without wondering when it will die? Seeing in its eyes the very infant you tried to save gasp its last breath of air, taking it off its dead mothers chest. Holding it, trying not to cry because you know the end is near for this precious being.  Handing the infant off to a transporting agency after doing all you can then shrugging off a feeling of helplessness and proceeding to the next victim during triage and perform your job flawlessly? Could you, would you?

Can you crawl through blazing hot temperatures in 50 pounds of gear without being able to see your hand in front of your face?  Feeling your way through a burning home, counting your time inside, monitoring how far you have gone, trusting your training and your partners skills. Hopefully finding the seat of the fire rapidly, stopping the beast from growing.  You sweat, curse and pray, sometimes it’s so hot it drives you to the floor, on your belly, but you are close so you press on. Then when it’s over you sit looking at the degraded building and its cheaply made materials that fail in half the time from a mere 20 years ago and picture the roof collapsing on you and your crew.  The Chief coming to your house, sitting your wife down and patting her hand while she cries because you are gone. Your children are fatherless, your wife is a widow and you are no more.  Can you think about that? Can you?

Can you watch your family time and again go on trips without you because you don’t work an 8-5, Mon-Fri schedule? As they turn out the driveway you are reminding them to please call if there is any trouble, to call when they arrive, to call whenever they go somewhere, anywhere.  Why? It’s not because you don’t trust them it’s because where ever they go you need to know if trouble lurks around the corner. You hate feeling this way but you do! Whether hiking, bike rides horse back or even plays dates in the park. The moment they are gone, can you let them go without seeing disaster strike at every turn? Can you?

Can you ever go to a barbecue and not smell burned flesh? Can you?

Can you perform CPR in front of an entire family sometimes successfully, sometimes to no avail and not feel moved by the crying, children sobbing, wives praying, husbands asking why, while holding the newest member of the family? Can you sit with a husband who just lost his wife of 45 years and hold his hand? Tell him you are so sorry while only having an inkling of the pain he is about to go through all while knowing it wont be too much longer now until you respond to him passing away as well? Can you hold a daughter whose mother just died in front of her from a diabetic reaction. Can you do that until the father gets home then go through it all over again? Can you turn and tell a family grandpa has gone and how sorry you are but there was nothing you could do to save him? Can you?

Can you give medical treatment to an abuser without prejudice? Could you?

Can you look a little girl, dying of cancer in the eyes time and again telling her it’s going to be ok? She knows you are lying, you know you are lying, but strangely it makes you both feel a little better. Then watch over time as she fades away, eventually succumbing to her disease and feel some remorse, somehow attached or remotely responsible? Can you do it?

Can you pull up to a random medical aid just in time to watch a man pull a hand gun out and shoot himself in the head? Then rush to his side without worrying if he is still alive and may shoot you! Then calmly do your best and try to save his life?

Can you bury a friend and honestly say he is in a better place when all your training couldn’t save his life and you know the suffering he went through before perishing?

Can you drive down the freeway without wondering what car is going to crash, what bridge is going to collapse, what semi truck is going to jackknife. Whose car is going to survive the crash, how many people are going to die? Where are you going to swerve to avoid the problem? Do you do this?

Can you lay your head down at night and not fear the sleep that comes?

Our job is one we love; we do it because believe in the power of helping those who cannot help themselves! We are a myriad of Type A personalities, we are born to be helpers, genetically it is who we are. Yes we knew what we were getting into.  But what we didn’t know or possibly could have fathomed was the lifelong effects it would have on us, our marriages, our children and our ability to look at the world through innocent eyes.  Something every one of you possess whether you realize it or not. Something (my innocence) I would give anything to have back.  But in the long run I can’t have it back! I gave it away when I took my oath and there is no getting it back.

The other night I received an honorary coin during our annual awards night dinner for saving a life.  I have been a part of a crew who has saved a life (on record) every year since 2007.  Does that one coin make up for the countless others lost? Are we supposed to live by the mantra “people die every day what are you going to do”? I just don’t know anymore.

People tout us as heroes. We aren’t, we are like any other trained profession looking to use the skills we have acquired. Everyone needs a hero and I am ok with the title if it eases someones mind, but when I think of true heroes I think of our military! Men and women who wake up everyday, put on their boots and stand up for our country at all costs. Some people bag on our job, put us down, disrespecting our failures and our accomplishments. Yes everyone does have the right to their opinion it is a cornerstone to our countries foundation.  But before they run their mouths giving a public perception that is both false and unjust, I wish once they could see life through my eyes or the eyes of the millions of brothers and sisters walking this earth everyday feeling the very same way I do, carrying the same burden, shouldering the same load and doing it with a smile on their faces.

Could they carry this burden? Even for a little while would be nice.  Can you? Could you? Would you?

Thanks everyone for letting me vent. I am no greater than the person beside me, God created me that way for a reason. Maybe someday I will be by your side as well, giving you comfort and helping you in a time of need.

To those who walked this path before me I have and always will be in awe of the leather boots I fill… 

“I have no ambition in this world but one, and that is to be a fireman. The position may, in the eyes of some, appear to be a lowly one; but we who know the work which the fireman has to do believe that his is a noble calling. Our proudest moment is to save lives. Under the impulse of such thoughts, the nobility of the occupation thrills us and stimulates us to deeds of daring, even of supreme sacrifice.”

Chief Edward F Croker FDNY (1899-1911)

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FTM*PTB* EGH* RFB

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School yard blues..

 

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As a child I traversed my way through life feeling invincible.  There was nothing I couldn’t accomplish, no one was going to tell me what to do even when the advice was sound.  My path had been chosen from approximately sixth grade.  This long path, or road of hard knocks, left me mired in my own stubbornness, filled with ignorance along with self prescribed wisdom.  I chose to forge through life at my own pace, following a road map that most would never wish upon their children. Yet I survived, and even though there are many things to regret about this road less traveled, it truly bore a hand in the man created through the journey.

So why am I lamenting these days of yore?

It appears my middle child is slowly heading down the same road at about the same age as myself. As a parent I wish to protect him from this journey. He is a wonderful young man with a smile that brightens even the darkest of rooms.  He is witty, smart and incredibly charming and though these are fantastic traits to have it seems to be his crux right at the moment.  His wit, not yet so formed that most understand the silliness or images-5dryness of his joke.  The smarts, is being used for alternate goals as opposed to his education.  The charm, is allowing him the ability to slide sideways from situations most children would be held accountable for, by adults who definitely know better.

But the main reason for reflection is an issue he is having with a child at school who continues to bully him hoping for a fight.  Now having been in a few scraps myself over the years and knowing that boys on occasion will fight at this age (uncontrollable testosterone flowing through their little systems)  there is one golden rule in our household that must under no circumstance ever be broken when it comes to this particular problem.  Never and I mean EVER start a fight with anyone under any circumstance! I don’t care what the other person has done, I don’t care what the other person has said; walk away.  Tell a school administrator and walk away.  My children all understand this one simple rule and to date my son has followed it to a tee! But I still worry, for you see as he genetically has adopted quite a few of my traits he has also inherited my seething Irish temper. The irish temper is a funny thing, for we can Unknown-1travel along as the butt of your joke for a very long time, even quipping a few sporting little retorts in the process.  But then without explanation or reason one day it will have gone just a bit to far, them BLAM! I worry he is repressing that very same emotion during these encounters while remaining calm as a cucumber.

My sons have asked me if I had ever been in fights as a kid? To which the truth has always been told. Yes.  Your father (do to my overwhelming charm of course) had his ass kicked more times than he would like to remember.  Being one to not back down from a images-4challenge most of my troubles were from my mouths amazing ability to say the wrong thing at just the right time.  Something I am seeing in my middle child as we speak.  And more times than not I lost.  I was never a particularly good fighter, but I always stood my ground and hardley ever backed down.

So then why this steadfast rule for my children today?

Its root is based on some very simple facts.  Today in the year 2013, our children have become so increasingly desensitized to violence I fear for the repercussions of a good old-fashioned knuckle buster.  Because there is no such thing anymore.  Some of my closest friends were people who disliked or disagreed with me to the point of a scrap.  Afterwards realizing how insanely stupid it was we became friends. Those days are dead and gone.  As an adult I have seen the repercussions of a fist fight gone bad. If you are scrapping some dude, friends of the opponent jump in, someone videos it for You Tube street cred, while another may be laying in wait with a knife to give you a good old-fashioned shanking if you beat one from their “posse”.  Violence is as acceptable as drinking a Starbucks at a sidewalk cafe.  Video games, movies, Television, MMA, UFC,  all showing, teaching our children violence is not the last resort but the first alternative.  Unknown-2You no longer try to figure out what you did wrong to upset this person, instead you just bitch about it to all your friends, shun the individual like the plague then jump that person like a stray alley cat.  When it’s over there are no apologies, nothing learned from the incident, instead friends of the beaten start scrapping with your friends and the circle of violence rolls on and on. Also in my day we just boxed or duked it out! Today Karate, Jujitsu, Wrestling (and I was a wrestler in high school), Krav Magra are treated like after school sporting programs.  So our children are becoming highly skilled fighters at very young ages.  I am not saying there is anything wrong with these programs by any means, my sons have participated in these activities with some very stellar instructors.  But it definitely changes the dynamics or social parameters of our children’s world.

Can things be changed?

No, I think we are inevitably doomed. We live in a culture surrounded by violence, protesting, warped media propaganda, criminals that receive more positive coverage than their victims, crime shows glorifying the act of the crime, shows about prisons and gangs, shows about fighting and everyone has a positive spin on where when and why, justifying the existence of what horrible acts they may have committed and we the quiet law-abiding citizens just shake our heads and wonder why.  I hate the argument: if you don’t like it don’t buy it, or let them watch it! We turn off the T.V., the kids are not allowed to watch anything with heavy violence yet ultimately it’s not our family that have become the problem.

So what do we do as parents?

We prepare our children as best we can for the inevitable.  Our children have done very well.  But I still worry as I see the path my son is following seems to be resembling the very same path I strolled down as a kid.  Where I grew up in the era of boys will be boys, and a good old-fashioned bop on the nose every now and again was good for ya, images-9toughening you up and all… We are now in the era of duck and run, don’t protect yourself at all costs, even if some kid is beating on you for fear of being expelled and then go tell a teacher. (who really have no teeth to do anything because teachers have had their hands tied thanks to our passive school system.) The kids in school know this and act accordingly.

So I ask, am I the only one who feels this way?  Am I worrying over nothing?  What have you done to prepare your children for dealing with a bully? Not an emotional bully (thats a whole different topic for a different time)but an actual I want to fight you today, right here, right now, I think you are a big fat stupid head; bully?

 

Resolutions…….

 

2013

Well I wasn’t going to do it! I promised myself and screamed to all who would listen! No way in hell was there any chance of me writing about New Year’s resolutions.  Everyone does it; the blogosphere is loaded with rambling and grumblings about new promises, kept promises from years past and flat out lies.  Nope, no way! It just wasn’t going to happen!

Then it dawned on me.  We; as in the human race aren’t supposed to be here! The world according to the Mayan culture along with several mayanthousand overly educated individuals was to have met its fiery demise on December 21st! Yet here we are, 7 full days after the end of the world and a mere 3 days from the beginning of a new recording of time (2013).

So what does this all mean for me and the loathing I hold towards New Year’s resolutions?

It’s a new age, a new beginning, it’s the first day of the rest of my life, and therefore I should put aside my personal feelings and be celebrating not commiserating. The very thought of making resolutions once a year to solidify the minor changes one should make accordingly throughout the year long cycle is absurd at best! Yet for some reason my heart feels obliged to give it a shot.  2013 New beginning, first days and all, it just makes plain good old sporting sense..

So here it goes!

I Betty resolve in 2013 too…

Not be so damn sarcastic! Shit I have already failed…. I TOLD YOU THIS WOULDN’T WORK!!!

Ok I’ll try again…

I Betty do solemnly resolve in 2013 too…

Quit being so angry: unless of course the situation warrants it, or it’s needed to purposely expound a point! Or my Irish becomes inflamed, or even if I am trapped in a situation where tolerance over ignorance shown towards stay at home fathers and dads inscreamer general becomes more than I can take, thusly leaving me no choice but to rage against a proponent with my expert use of the English language in an obscure tirade upon my blog. Yeah passive aggressive attack, that’s the ticket! See it’s easy to put aside blood boiling rage and quit being so angry! Maybe this isn’t so bad! Let’s try another one!

Laugh more with my children: A child’s laughter is a gift from god and should be enjoyed every chance we get. Plus by sharing in the laughter you are helping teach your children to laugh and relax, thereby allowing them to share the very same learned expressions with friends, ultimately leading to your children being able to laugh at themselves; a good quality by the way.  Of course there is the exception to the rule; you know when they are laughing 9-11-2011 011and you are not due to them having done something so erroneous there can be no alternative emotion than to become irritated.  Such as finding pee all over the bathroom floor and dripping down the sides of the toilet!  Recognizing the difference between light dirt and poo smeared across the shower curtain! Oh yes, because apparently our little angels eyeballs haven’t developed to the point of recognizing the need for toilet paper BEFORE sitting down to do their business! Yet the pea sized brain has acquired a MacGyver like reflex allowing them the ability to think quickly and improvise in sticky situations leading to the shower curtain being used as Charmin!  Yeah the laughter is real hearty while donning latex gloves and decontaminating the old levorotary! Laughter has a tendency to fall off the charts after I have told them several  times to clean their rooms and all they’ve done is throw a sheet on theirpoop beds after shoving everything that was on the floor under the bed and into the closet! Or after begging them to feed their animals before dark only to be ignored! Now that it’s dark outside no one is going to go out to the barn and feed, so instead of having just done it the first time they were asked they throw a crying screaming fit about how scared they are in the dark and they really shouldn’t have to go out and feed now cause it’s just too damn scary! Yep more laughing is coming right up in 2013!

Eat healthier foods: last year was a real life changer for me in this department! Eating was not just a means for sustenance it was an event! Big breakfast, big lunch and even bigger dinners! The only exercise my body partook in was getting a beer from the fridge along with the subsequent 12 ounce curls that followed! But I made images (7)a change and lost 20 pounds this year alone! So I promise to keep up the good work with a solid diet and exercise to match!  Holidays will be the exception of course. Where I shall continue to stuff my face with all the greatest holiday creations one can muster! Cookies, chocolate, mince pies, cupcakes, more chocolate, apple pies, pumpkin pies, candies of all sizes and did I mention chocolate? Other than that all healthy foods, in small portions; oops I need to also include dinners at the firehouse as an exemption, I mean I really have no control over what someone else cooks, and I wouldn’t want  to be perceived as rude so firehouse dinners are definitely out! But for every other meal, Yes! Better, healthier foods coming right up!

Go green in 2013! Our family is a huge believer in replenishing our resources by reusing and recycling! Nothing brings us a greater sense of good than helping out our environment! We placed windmills on the roof of our shop to produce electricity and are looking forward to possibly placing solar panels on the property generating more electricity for ourselves and others who may benefit! But we have one larger issue. We need to purchase a fuel efficient “green” truck, yet the last time I checked they don’t make a fuel efficient “green” vehicle to replace my 3/4 ton diesel truck cowcarthat is connected to a horse trailer pretty much all week long and in today’s economy it really isn’t feasible to purchase a “green” car and a new “lesser carbon footprint” truck to replace my tattered old truck! So to go green it’s going to cost us well over $100,000 dollars! Who the hell has that kind of cash lying around? Cold day in hell before a loan for $100,000.00 is taken out under my name for anything other than a house! Maybe I should just stay focused on recycling materials? Smokey truck, recycling cans, see one offsets the other, I am already ahead for 2013!

Drink less alcohol: Social drinking has always been a big part of my life! Nothing beats having a brew with your buds or a glass of wine with your lovely wife! At three in the morning when you have had to much, just get up, hover over the toilet and purge away!  Good times and weight loss rolled into one! Yet having cut back dramatically in 2012 I have recognized the need to do more! 

barfingDrinking can definitely become a health concern and at my age I really need to be focusing more attention on life longevity.  Speaking of life longevity on the Dr. Oz show I saw red wine is actually good for you! Seriously, a couple of glasses a night are supposedly good for your heart! Man that’s like almost a bottle a night! Yee Ha!  Maybe I’ll have to re-think the whole drinking even less theory and look into the redeeming factors associated with Jack Daniels too? Anyone?

There you have it! Betty has gone against his better judgment and laid out five resolutions for 2013! Funny though, I feel as if they are destined for failure and I am not sure why?  Maybe it’s that whole sarcasm resolution I failed in the beginning.  Hmmmmmm…..

 peanuts

 

A Horse of Gold……

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This is the story of a horse. A very special horse..

Now if you follow my blog then you know here at Betty’s house we ride horses competitively (cutting horses, gymkhana) and for fun (trail riding, etc.). Nothing brings our family greater satisfaction than introducing a child to the joys of riding horses. The feeling of freedom so many never experience in a lifetime that comes from loping in an arena aboard a 1500 pound animal.

But it wasn’t always that way here at our ranch.  There was a time when if I never saw another horse again it would be too soon.  Growing up on a horse ranch as a child, I had my fill of horses and the chores that went along with raising these four-legged beasts. I never understood why they came before us children? My self-centered life revolved around much more important things than feeding and watering them twice a day.  It was always an inconvenience for me and I was a sniveling pain in the ass to my parents.

Why?

Simply put, I was too young and self-absorbed to realize these chores equated to valuable life lessons instilled by my parents.  Lessons that would form who I became, as life away from home molded me into the man I am today.  Animals have a way of inadvertently teaching, by forcing you to learn responsibility, punctuality, empathy, kindness, courage and patience.  I learned all these important traits from begrudgingly taking care of horses and sheep on our ranch.

So what does this have to do with a story about a horse?

When I left home, animals had left a bad taste in my mouth. I swore to the heavens above I would never, ever own a horse again.  As a young adult I worked with a few horses on a dairy and would ride them any chance I could while hanging out with friends. My skills were average but I could hold my own using lessons taught by my mother.  The reality? I never was looking to head down the old equine trail ever again.  You see all those years of watching my parents struggle to make ends meet while raising, training, showing and riding horses combined with the responsibility of feeding, watering and caring for these creatures left me feeling very strongly in regards to never owning a horse.

When I was a teenager my parents dissolved the horse business, selling off all their animals, taking jobs in town and soon purchasing and raising ostriches for meat. No more horses! Hurray! Life seemed pretty good.

Then one day my dad purchased a horse named Gold Piece.  He was—–Gold—– I know hard to believe huh? He was a Tennessee walker.

The Tennessee Walker or Tennessee Walking Horse is a breed of riding horse. Originally bred in the Southern United States to carry the owners of plantations around their lands,[1] this breed is known for their unique four-beat “running walk.” The breed is rarely seen in any of the sport horse disciplines; however, they are popular in trail riding because of their smooth gait, stamina and easy temper. They are also seen in Western riding disciplines and in harness. –Wikipedia—

Gold Piece was a tall horse with a wonderful gate, he was friendly enough and my father adored him.  My parents built him a fine paddock at their home and Gold Piece quickly became my father’s four legged friend.  There doesn’t seem to be a recollection of my father ever riding Gold Piece although my mother claims she has been atop this steed.  For years Gold Piece just roamed his little 3 acre patch coming in to eat in the morning and talk with my dad (as dad puts it) repeating the same schedule of events in the  evening.

I never understood why someone would own a horse without riding it. Horses to me at the time werent pets, but livestock and should have been used as such. It’s in the animals best interest to be worked and exercised everyday, used to their potential.  So needless to say it bothered me that this horse just walked around, eating his way through my parents finances.  (Complete self-absorption huh?)

My parents eventually sold their home and moved onto our ranch, Gold Piece in tow, allowing them to ease their financial burdens while growing older.  We made a home for the horse and before long seeing him out there ignited a passion inside our children. We acquired a few horses (against my better judgment) and all my children began to ride.  My wife took the lead as her love for all animals carried over into caring for these creatures as well.  All the while Gold Piece just stared blankly from his paddock while watching us do our thing.  I would go pet him and tell him I was sorry he wasnt being ridden then remind him he was dads and I really didn’t want to cross that line.  During the winter my wife found an affordable arena for us to board our horses so the children could ride out of the rain as our place would turn into a bit of a mud pit.  After a few weeks and some favorable reviews to my parents, Gold Piece soon joined us at my father’s request.  It made dad feel good to know his buddy was out of the weather, and socializing with other horses.  My father had developed some health issues that year which slowed him down a bit; so he dropped by the barn everyday when he felt good, every couple of days when he didn’t, but his horse was always there, head hanging out of the stall, happy to see him. In fact it used to make me chuckle, because I could never figure out how the horse knew my father had arrived on the premises.  But sure enough, trucks would come and go, then when dads truck arrived Gold Pieces head would pop right out and he would start licking his lips in anticipation of the apple/oat cookies my dad always carried in his pocket.

One day while watching the kids ride, I tired of sitting on the sidelines, if my dad wasn’t going to ride this horse well gosh darn it I was! I grabbed a saddle, pulled down his bit, tacked him up and moved off into the arena.  Within fifteen minutes my head was abuzz with all the memories of riding horses at my parents ranch as a kid, with friends while growing up, and on trail rides as a young adult. Gold Piece had reignited a passion I had suppressed for far too long.

This horse, single-handedly or Hoofed as the case may be erased my ignorance, awakened the realization my parents hadn’t been punishing me with all those chores as a kid; he helped me understand what I needed to do as a father with my own children and brought back my need to ride, enjoy the thrill of riding, along with competing against other trained animals working as team towards a common goal.  During his tenure at the barn Gold Piece gave many of our young friends their first rides in the arena and he gave my oldest a reason to ride with his father. Always willing and full of steam Gold Piece would go until the verge of collapse if you asked him too.  (Pretty cool horse.)  My younger children seeing their parents ride this big Gold trotting machine wanted to ride every chance they could.  If it wasn’t for Gold Piece my wife and I wouldn’t have met and made friends with a wonderful group of people that we ride horses with to this very day! He and his stubbornness also introduced me to my “sister from another mister”. For that I am very thankful.

Gold Piece wasn’t always perfect, he challenged me every chance he could, made me earn my way around the arena on more than one occasion and taught me through sheer will to ride again, for that I am very appreciative.  But what he lacked in patience under saddle he more than made up for in personality outside the arena.  He never kicked, bit or pushed his weight around. If you were small he side-stepped out of your way while carefully keeping an eye on you. He always let you pet him and was happy to do so.  The little ones had no problem grooming him and he eased under pressure from the brush, much like a cat would purr at a belly rub.  He was just a good old horse.

Gold Piece passed away today.  My daughter found him down in his stall this morning when she went out to feed. He was close to 30, fighting cancer and we all knew the day was coming. But it didn’t make it any easier. My father is devastated.  As I sit here writing this I believe this horse was probably my father’s last true friend; always there when he needed him, never argued or disagreed with him and listened with nothing but the best of intentions. Nothing is harder than watching your dad cry. My mother is doing her best stiff upper lip imitation as always, but I know deep inside she is hurting as well, not just for herself but for the loss of my father’s dear friend.

A funny thing, for all he taught us he never asked for very much in return. He ate his hay, talked to my dad and went about his daily business like that of a proud Tennessee walker. Upon hearing of his passing, a friend of ours dropped us a note on Facebook that read; I think he (Gold Piece) heard there was a little girl from CT that needed him…..It may sound a little crazy but I looked it up on Yahoo news and it’s true. Little 6-year-old spitfire, Jessica Rekos, one of the 20 children that perished at Sandy Hook Elementary School had desperately wished for a horse and was going to get cowboy boots for Christmas.

Because I believe there is a God, because I believe that everything happens for a reason and because I know that horse would never have left my dad for anything in the world, maybe just maybe it’s possible to believe there was a higher calling and he (Gold Piece) answered that call, meeting up in heaven with a little girl who wanted nothing more than a horse of her own. I could think of no greater comfort for such a little soul, and maybe, just maybe her parents can now rest a little easier. The lord will take wonderful care of her as she rides the heavens above upon her beautiful horse of gold.

Rest In Peace both of you, the fields are endless, you are both safe now, god speed…

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Gold Piece-

12/17/2012