Dad fishing. Looks like it was a successful day! 1984

The funny thing is, Kyle doesn’t like and simply won’t bait his own hook, at least not with maggots, mealworms, red worms, butterworms, or chicken livers.  I have seen him hook his own line with some sort of prepackaged bait, salmon eggs and he’s a big fan of the spinner when fishing for trout.  Aside from that, he leans on me or dad to hook him up, so to speak.

Kyle also won’t unhook a freshly reeled fish.  He doesn’t like touching the slimy, slippery skin and its pointy scales and teeth.  Forget ever asking Kyle to help scale and gut the fish.  NOPE!  I’ve tried having him help me once, and I thought he was going to puke.  He did a halfway job and I had to finish thoroughly cleaning his fish for him.  He told dad next time he’ll try and help us.  I’m not holding my breath.

Kyle does enjoy the thrill a fish nibbling on the hook and the tugging of the line ever so slightly; the feeling of knowing there is a fish interested in his bait; and the possibility of a huge catch.  Everyone loves that!  He gets so excited with the exhilaration of fighting the mystery fish and then finding out the species, and of course, the size of the catch.  This information is only used for later story telling on Kyle’s behalf.  He could careless about the meat he’s bringing to the table.

Kyle also eats fish, which I am so glad!  This past weekend, my sister was home, so mom fried us up the freshly caught catfish from Saturday.   Total, we probably caught about twenty small to medium sized catfish, mixture of bullhead and channel cats.  None of them were the size you see on television, whereas they needed to be picked up by two or three people.  Nope, these were pretty manageable for a single person.  Enough for a good meal.

On Saturday morning, we got up early.  How early?  I was up around 5:30 am and I woke sleeping beauty around 6:30 am, dad was up well before me, 4:00 am.  We packed the boat and headed out to Loyalhanna Lake, getting on the water by 8:00 am.  We wanted to get out earlier and be at our spot by then, but it was raining pretty good and it took us longer to get situated.  Dad’s not as fast in his later years, not like when I was a kid.

Yes, it was raining and we still wanted to go fishing.  Dad is no stranger to fishing in any sort of weather, even if it’s a cold, bone chilling rain.  Dad is, or I used to say was, as die hard about fishing as he is hunting.  It did drizzle on us a little, but no monsoon was in the forecast.  Personally, I was fine with that, it wasn’t too cold, it was cloudy so the sun wasn’t directly hitting me and making me sick, and the bugs were kept at bay from the rain.  Win, win all around!  Like I said, perfect day to go fishing!

Nicole’s First Holy Communion. All cousins: Front row – Casey Olczak, Ryan, Me. Back Row – Timmy Bobinchek, Jeremy Piper, Chad Piper & Nicole. Yes, that’s the tree that held my fishing pole after I was practicing how to cast. c. 1981

I’ve been fishing since I was little.  All of us fished except surprisingly, mom.  Ryan loved to fish too, often going by himself when friends and family where working or busy.

As we were casting our lines, I noticed how controlled Kyle was at the action.  I was the only one who caught a tree, but it didn’t result in a loss of hook or bait!  So no worries.

While we were sitting there fishing up a storm, I told Kyle how I used to practice casting my line all the time when I was little.  He looked at me in amazement.  It’s true, I did!  Not in water, but in the front yard.  I really enjoyed standing there and practicing the action of throwing out the line and reeling it in.  Of course, back then, mom had a white birch tree in the middle of the yard.  Somehow, I caught the tree, a few times. (sarcasm)  Yes, instead of casting away from the tree, I would stand directly in front of it and cast my line.  One time in particular, I was not able to pull my fishing pole out of the branches, so I reeled in the line and let the pole hang there, waiting for dad to get home from work.  Dad rolled his eyes resulting in the pole hanging there for quite some time. I didn’t care, I was enjoying myself.

Naturally, the first person who caught anything was dad, a nice sized catfish.  Then, Kyle and I started to get into the rhythm.  At one point, all three of us were pulling in catfish at the same time!  That made it so exciting and really a lot of fun.  We moved to a few different locations when the biting stopped, to try our chances elsewhere, before calling it a day at 2:00 pm.

While patrolling back down the tributary, dad decided he had to relieve his bladder.  I know I probably shouldn’t be talking about his but it was so funny!  Earlier, we made Kyle do so off the side of the boat, while dad and I looked the other way.  It wasn’t that easy for dad, since he’s so big and the boat is so small.  Instead, dad decided to pull up to a rock cliff and have us hold onto saplings to keep the boat parallel with the side of the hill, while he stepped out and climbed up the bank.  At first Kyle wasn’t holding onto anything while dad was stepping out.  Dad had one leg on the rocks and one in the boat, as the boat slowly started to separate from the side of the hill.  Kyle looked at me, without trying to help, like he was accepting his next statement and said, “I think this is going to end badly.”  Yes!  I started to laugh because it was kind of humorous, but then I yelled at him to grab a hold of a branch to pull the boat closer to help his pappy out.  It was quite comical!  Doring this adventure, I was hoping no one would go past, and no one did.

Legofest 2012… I decided to be a pirate. Kyle was cracking up, yet was rolling his eyes at my silliness. Pittsburgh, Pa 2012

After putting away the bait and poles, Dad explored the other side of the lake that we never ventured down.  Let me explain, he recently got back his boat engine that was in for repairs.  Basically, dad was a boy who got back his toy.  He opened it up, let her rip, making wakes!  We felt the spray of water in our faces.  Keep in mind we were on a little fishing boat that resembled the one used from Grumpy Old Men, nothing extravagant.  Kyle and I were giggling and hanging on the entire time, not that dad was going mock speeds, but it was just the kid in us, well maybe me and dad, since Kyle is still a kid.

It was pretty uneventful getting the boat in and out of the lake.  Except, when I went to drive the boat up on the trailer, I accidentally hit the gas pretty hard and scared myself, driving it at full speed toward the truck.  Dad must have saw the freight in my eyes and started to laugh while sitting in the driver’s seat.

While I was out on the boat, I yelled to Kyle to assist me getting the boat on the trailer straight.
Me:  Kyle direct me in.
Kyle:  What?
Me: Kyle direct me in!
Kyle:  What?
Me:  Kyle!  Tell me if I’m straight!
Kyle:  (Stood there like a statue and pointed his index finger ever so slightly in one direction)
Me: (Thinking, Whatever!)

Once the boat was safe and secure, dad commented, “I thought you were going to drive the boat into the bed of the truck.”  We got a good laugh.  You should have seen the look on Kyle’s face when I revved up the engine too hard, he gave a reaction like I was going to drive into him.   Keep in mind, he was a good yard and a half away from the action, in no immediate danger.  Afterwords, Kyle stood alongside his pap and got a good chuckle.

Planinsek Fishing Derby, the long awaited for PRIZES! 2012

Before we left I instructed Kyle to leave his phone and his iPod behind.  You see, Kyle finds it a need to take a picture of EVERY fish he catches.  He was devastated when I told him all electronics are getting left behind.  He actually got into a slight state of panic when he realized, I meant my phone too.  He argued, “But Aunt Heather what if we have an emergency and need to call someone?  Then we are out in a boat in the middle of the water.  What do we do?”  I told him, “Believe it or not buddy, people have been fishing on water for centuries without a phone, we’ll be alright, besides we’re not out in the middle of the ocean.”  He didn’t particularity care for my comment but reluctantly went along with my logic.

Nope, no phone and I wouldn’t let Kyle take his either.  Not because I thought he was going to be sitting there talking.  Actually, on the contrary I wanted him to call his Aunt Nikki to see where she was in route, but simply because it was raining off and on and I didn’t want any phone to be ruined.  Unbeknownst to me, halfway through our fishing, I realized dad has is phone on him anyway.  Personally, it was great not checking emails, answering the phone or responding to text messages.  Just fishing.

What great quality time with the family.  Collectively, we all had fun.  Dad and I kept calling Kyle Catfish Hunter!  It was so peaceful and relaxing.  A nice lazy day in the boat with fish as my only focus.  Can’t wait to do it again!

Follow my blog with Bloglovin

Money can’t buy happiness, but it can make you awfully comfortable while you’re being miserable  ~Clare Boothe Luce

Kyle, accompanied by an excited Scooby, this past Easter morning… I stocked him up on books.. he was excited to start reading! 4/20/14

Teaching life lessons to a child seem to be much harder than I could have ever imagined.  Truly, when Kyle was a baby I used to think, lead by example and that should do it.  Now, I have resorted to actually taking money from a kid to prove a point.  One that I don’t think he’s getting.

About a month ago Kyle and I were in the store.  Previously, he saw these movie and gaming posters that he really liked and wanted for his room.  Great!  “You have money, so buy yourself a poster.”  Was my only response.

On a side note, I swear that soon to be thirteen year old kid always has more money than me.

I stood with him going through the posters, not appreciating the scantily dressed women in bikini’s with up close and person bottom shots, but we quickly got past those.  He considered The Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit, Minecraft and Halo.  Which one he chose?  I have no idea, I think it was The Hobbit but don’t quote me on that.

At the same time, dad asked me to get him some air fresheners for his car.   While we were on location, it made sense to pick up a few fragrant smelling plastic clips too.

Now, for the story of my frustration.  We get to the checkout and I’ll admit, I was testing Kyle, for I put everything together.  I wanted to see if he would offer to pay for all the items, at the very least his poster.  Let’s face it, the total was maybe nine bucks, with his poster being five.

What Kyle did next, totally blew me away.  He stepped away from the register as the lady was ringing us up and never offered a penny!  I thought he’d at least throw in five dollars to cover his purchase.  Nope, he physically stepped back and gave me a look, expecting me to pick up the tab for everything.  I was floored!  Needless to say I paid.

Me, dad & Kyle went fishing on Loyalhanna Lake, mom tagged along. We got the boat out & got it stuck in the mud… 6/1/14

All I said to Kyle was, “This is your poster you know.”  followed by him saying, “Ya, but that other stuff isn’t and I’m not paying for it.”  followed by me saying, “But the poster is yours and it doesn’t seem like your paying for that either.”

We left the check out before I tore into him.  I was totally flabbergasted!  He didn’t even offer to pay for his stupid poster, and not even care about the items for his pap?  The man who gives him everything, treats him like gold, never asks for anything from this kid, except for maybe good behavior.  The man who truly loves him with all his heart who takes him hunting and fishing, makes sure the kid is never without.  The man who goes well out of his way for the happiness of this little boy.  Ya, that man Kyle would not spend four dollars on, knowing that his pappy would compensate him tenfold for the gesture.  Heck, I would have given him the money for just simply offering.  And probably taken him to the movies or bought him another poster as a reward.

Nope, instead of being considerate and generous to those who love him the most, he chose the self-centered, greedy avenue.  One that marked him for life, or at least until the next incident.

As we were walking out of the store, I exploded!  None of us in my family are like that at all.  My brother certainly was never greedy, in fact he was too nice and generous with money, letting others take from him and never paying him back.  Granted, I don’t want Kyle to be that nice, but come on, this purchase was for him and his pappy.  I wasn’t expecting him to buy a months worth of groceries.  In fact, I wasn’t asking him to give up anything, it was the gesture or in his case, the lack of gesture that ticked me off as well as his attitude.

I don’t want Kyle to be greedy, not even close to greed.  That’s why I’m always Warning Against Materialism – Encouraging Dreams  I don’t want him associating with it.  I certainly don’t want him to be THAT guy who expects everyone to pay for him and he won’t even step up to return the gesture or meet halfway.  YIKES!  I hate that type of guy or gal. (not playing favorites)

Then, to make matters worse, I too do for him all the time.  I take him to the movies, to the store, to his piano lessons and I run around extra to accommodate him and his plans.  Not that I’m keeping score, but come on buddy, at least appreciate what you have and try to give back!

Did I mention that the money in his wallet was probably given to him by my dad, his pappy?  Frustrating!

Recently, Kyle called me about two hours before his piano lesson to inform me he didn’t want to go.  Now, I get the reasoning, he had family that was in town and surprised him, and it wasn’t totally his fault.  But he needs to learn that two hours beforehand to cancel on someone is not acceptable.  Yet, he was still planning on going to his baseball game that night.  Let me see, it was that important for him to cancel, and I still have to pay for the thirty minute lesson, but he can spend two hours at his game?  Granted, again there was a lot of political pressure put on him that was out of his control, but he needs to learn appropriate behavior and stand up for whats right.  So I said, “That’s your decision, but you’re paying me for the piano lesson.”  His response?  He cried.  My response?  I didn’t care.  Maybe a little.

Did you know, that kid tried to get out of paying me for the missed lesson?  Yes!  Then, to make matters worse, Kyle misplaced his piano books, so therefore he was not practicing all week.  He waited three hours before his lesson to ask me to look for his piano books at his Gigi and pappy’s house or my house.  Missed again buddy.

Naturally, we couldn’t find them and he had to go to his lessons without any music.  Before it was Kyle’s turn, I made him sit there and come up with a few good solutions to the problem.  Telling him it wasn’t the teacher’s problem, but yours alone and one he needed to find a reasonable solution.   I had to help him with suggestions like, “Ask your teacher if you can practice scales, or if he had other music you could play etc.”  The teacher was very accommodating but I was beyond angry.

Kyle waiting his turn for piano lessons at Seton Hill Performing Arts Center. 9/23/13

Now the lesson not only included wasting my money, but it was inappropriate protocol.  Waiting till we leave for lessons to look for his book, when he should have been practicing all week, not acceptable!   I was more than furious that he felt it was admissible to not practice simply because he didn’t know were his books were located.  And somehow it became my responsibility and not his?  Wrong again buddy!  He needs to be held accountable for his actions.  I told him he was paying for that lesson too and if he thinks I forgot about the previous one, he was wrong.

Now Kyle must have realized I meant business and I was not happy with his behavior, for the next time I picked him up, he handed me five dollars for the poster, still refusing to acknowledge payment for the piano lessons.  I guess that was too steep for his budget, but I didn’t care.  Again, I reminded him and again he ignored my warning.

So now we have missing piano books for another week.  I told Kyle to call me on Monday giving a status update if he looked for them, he waited till Wednesday, the day before his lessons.  Getting better buddy but not there yet.  While we spoke on the phone, I was extremely calm, probably eerily calm for him.  I told Kyle he has a few choices to make, either we stop by the music store and pick up the books, which he has to pay for, or I’m pulling him from piano all together and he has to pay for the rest of the lessons that I pre-paid, about two hundred dollars worth.  I also asked for his suggestions, which he had none.

Kyle was stunned and completely speechless.  He didn’t know what to say or do.   Although, I will give him credit, he started to come up with temporary solutions like, “Aunt Heather, could you grab my old piano books, maybe I could play something in there.”  Good effort, now you’re slowly getting it, but still missing the mark.  Sadly, for Kyle it wasn’t about getting the most out of his lessons, or letting me down or not appreciating the opportunity I gave him with music, it was all about the money, his not mine.  Now I was depressed, realizing the materialism and greedy nature of this little boy.  How sad!  Again, my family would never in a million years act like this, apparently he’s learning it elsewhere.

Long story short, Kyle got out of any decision when I found his books.  And yes, he wanted to place the blame on his Gigi, because they fell into her box of photo albums that no one realized.  Yet, the books where still his responsibility and he should of had us looking long before he did.

This past weekend, Kyle had his wallet on him, the nice chain and leather gift given by his pap.  Would you believe the kid handed me forty bucks to cover the two piano lessons?  I was stunned actually.  No apologies, but he handed the money over to me saying, “Here Aunt Heather for the piano lessons.”  I could tell, he thought I was going to give it back with maybe a speech on being responsible and accountable that sort of thing.

I didn’t waste my breath.  I’ve said it all before.  I simply took the paper currency and said “Thank you.”  His eyes were sad for the loss of money.  I also noticed he did this in front of his pappy, thinking his pappy would do what he normally does and replace the cash.  Dad did no so such thing, knowing the situation.  We’re on to you Kyle!

Now what Kyle doesn’t know, is I’m planning on adding the forty bucks to his education fund.  He’s had that account since he was almost three months old, set up by my cousin Paula, who was Ryan’s godmother, Kyle’s dad.

I do believe Kyle is not a lost cause, he just needs more guidance.  In fact, not even a year ago, someone handed Kyle five bucks for doing a good job serving mass.  That was way too sweet.  Without thought, Kyle immediately gave the money to father for the church.  I was so very proud of him!  It was something he wanted to do and I could tell he felt it was the right thing.  I never steered him one way or the other.  It actually happened so quickly, Kyle already had his mind made up before I knew about it.  He is a generous kid!  Sometimes.

I’m working with him, everyday!  I just need to pray for patience.

Below is a video of Kyle playing the piano with his instructor at the Seton Hill Performing Arts Center.  Normally he won’t let me video him, but this time he did. 10/21/13

And O there are days in this life, worth life and worth death.  ~Charles Dickens

There are two topics that put me in shock and awe, and just plain old tick me off, the prisoner marine in Mexico and the release of a known army deserter at the cost of putting the entire world in mortal danger.  I believe these are topics that warrens unrest.

Let’s start with the marine.  I’ve been watching the news daily for a few months now, not days, but months regarding the marine held captive in a Mexican prison for taking a wrong turn.  Granted, I know he had three guns in the trunk of his car, but he wasn’t hiding or sneaking anything!  Sincerely, I was going to write about this story upon his release, but it appears that won’t happen anytime soon.

Marine Sergeant Andrew Tahmooressi, who has served his country well and actually was in combat while serving in Afghanistan, was home seeking treatment for PTSD.  Everyone has heard the crux of the story, he accidentally crossed the Mexican border with three guns in the trunk of his car, which are legal and registered in the United States, but not in Mexico.

How did this happen?  It was dark and he got twisted around and made a wrong turn.  Who hasn’t?  Directionally Challenged  He missed the sign that directed him into the heart of his present day demise, Mexico.  I’m sure if he was aware, he would not have gone south of the border.

Once he realized he entered the country, along with his firearms, he called 911.  What did they tell him?  They couldn’t help him because he was on foreign soil.  Really?  I guess so.  He still tried to do right thing and admitted to his mistake, to only be taken away, beaten and tortured in a Mexican prison.

I watched the interview with him and Greta Van Susteren from On the Record with Greta, on Fox News.  This is sad.  A true innocent mistake that anyone and probably many have made.  I know me personally, that sounds exactly like something that would happen, guns and all.

On a side note, during the phone call, he didn’t badmouth anyone or call for a pity party.  Nope, he sounded brave and tried to be strong so his family and fellow marines wouldn’t worry.

It’s such a shame, Mr. Tahmooressi was trying to do the right thing, not hurt anyone, no attempt to hurt anyone, no intent on hurting anyone and yet he is treated horribly like a harden criminal!  He made a wrong turn!  Let him out!

It makes you wonder, that after speaking with 911 who obviously was no help, that he should have tried to sneak back over the border with his guns.  Perhaps he would have made it back safe and sound and been sleeping peacefully in the comforts of his own bed that night.  If not, then he would have ended up in the same situation, hauled off to jail.

I get it, those guns were not registered in Mexico, but they were not meant to arrive in Mexico either.  It was a true sincere mistake.   Then to beat the man?  Was that necessary?  Sounds like there is some political hostility demonstrated and taken out on the marine.

Bill O’Reilly from the O’Reilly Factor has also been discussing this situation daily and putting the pressure on to get this guy out.  The United States has handed over more than 100,000 signatures to the Mexican government, his fellow marines have contested to his character, and yet nothing!

Now my next question, what is our very own president doing about this?  Seemingly NOTHING!  He is too busy going around Congress, to release FIVE HIGH RANKING Taliban officers from our own prison in exchange for a deserter.  I agree totally with Charles Krauthammer, when he remarked that it is important to get our troops back, everyone of our troops is important.  Agreed!  Then, once we have our soldier in question, have him tried in court, either as a deserter or a traitor or whatever the charge.  I totally agree!  He is owed a fair trial even though we lost very respectable dedicated service men, who went out looking for this disgraced soldier.  But really, the math doesn’t seem to add up.  This is a five to one ratio, with the five holding more power and threat to the world than one coward.  Someone needs to teach Obama how to negotiate, or to do math.

Why was Obama in such a hurry to get Bowe Robert Bergdahl, (a.k.a. the alleged traitor since he hasn’t been tried yet) out of his captivity from the Taliban, being there for years, and not Mr. Tahmooressi who did NOTHING wrong, except make a wrong turn?

Something doesn’t add up.  What is going on here?  It seems like our government is trying to put away the patriotic leaving him to rot, while those who side with the Taliban free to roam.  Granted, I know I am only referring to two specific instances, but two very important and high profile ones.  Sometimes it’s these moments that you truly see inside someone’s soul and find their true intent.  So what is the true intent of our president?

Then, Hillary Clinton is not speaking out in defense of the marine (at least I haven’t heart it) but I did hear her defending Obama’s illegal decision to release Bergdahl, and send the Taliban prisoners back to start their terror again.

Her reasoning?  Those HIGH RANKING Taliban officials with proven blood on their hands, “Are not a threat to the United States but only to the Afghan people.”  Seriously?  First of all we don’t hold people in prison who are known Taliban and have been a threat to the U.S. prior to their imprisonment for no reason.  Secondly, we are not a country who only looks out for ourselves.  I do believe if we can help others, than we try.  At the very least don’t put others, whether they are foreign allies or not, in harms way with FIVE known terrorists!  It’s like we just pointed a loaded gun at ourselves with one in the chamber and the hammer pulled back and handed it to a brutal murderer. 

I did hear that the released terrorist leaders promised not to do anything for a year.  Are you kidding?  Sure that makes sense since it probably takes that long to outline plans for massive attacks resulting in piles of innocent victims.  What happens after the year is up?  So the freedom of FIVE HIGH RANKING TERRORISTS is equal to one year of peace?  What about years of peace with the imprisonment of the proven five guilty prisoners?

Come on Hillary, you need to get your ratings up!  Think!  What will do it, and it’s not your smooth talk because no one is buying it anymore?  Let’s see some action done for the good, for those who are honorable, deserving of assistance.  Learn from the past.

Remember in 2009, when a reporter and Lisa Ling’s sister were caught crossing into North Korea and were jailed?  Almost immediately, at the time President Bill Clinton touched down in the country unannounced.  That’s one way to get someone’s attention and show he meant business!

Euna Lee and Laura Ling, the reporter and Lisa Ling’s sister respectively, were sneaking around and probably put their noses to close to the fire and got burned.  Nothing like the accident of  Mr. Tahmooressi.  Hillary should get her husband to stop playing twister with office workers and set that marine free!  Former President Clinton did a great job in the North Korean instance, at least it seems so.  I mean, he went in, freed the United States citizens and everyone left safely without world war III breaking out.  Successful mission in my opinion, and I feel he could do it again in Mexico.  Or is this a political issue, whereas he doesn’t want to step on Obama, our lame duck’s toes?

Enough already, let’s stop the political gain and need for power, just for a single moment and let’s all put on our thinking caps.  Help those who are deserving, and those that post a threat to our national security, keep them behind bars!  Kind of common sense.

This thought it really out there and very much my own homemade conspiracy theory regarding the release of those Taliban prisoners.

What if Obama too has somehow sided with the Taliban and he has ulterior motives?

Or what if this is a game to play out in the next few years that Clinton and Obama devised in advance?  Hillary, thinking she’ll get into office, while all along we released those prisoners and have trackers embedded into their spinal cords so they can be located at a moments notice and taken out on her watch, for her personal political gain?  Is it so far fetched or is it one big political game?

As for our imprisoned Marine, it seems like no one of high U.S. political power is giving two figs for this soldier.   Well, I am here to say, there are people who care and pray for his safety and speedy release.  I would love to meet him and introduce him to Kyle to show my little man what a true hero is, and sincerely thank the soldier for all his service!  #MarineHeldInMexico

Life is a beautiful magnificent thing, even to a jellyfish.  ~Charles Chaplin

First I want to say, I was instructed by one Ms. Nicole Piper to NOT write a blog entry about her birthday party.  When will she learn, telling me to do something won’t make it happen.  Here goes…

#YOLO, yep that was the theme of my sister’s fortieth birthday celebration that took place this past Friday.  On a side note, #YOLO was not my idea!  I just kept the theme going.  She told me she wanted everything #YOLO.  So I gave it to her… on the save-the-dates, invites, programs and decor.

It’s true, her actual birthday was March 16th Happy Birthday Aunt Nikki!  The Big 40!.  So why such a lapse in time between birthday and party?  Simply, the venue in which Nicole wanted her party, Jammin’ Java’s, was booked until this past Friday.

The Penn State Crew, Katherine, Portia, Nicole, Leslie & Smaro. They are the definition of #YOLO 6/6/14

It was a night packed filled with a comedian, Matty Litwack, who I guess was a physicist turned comedian.  Perfect for that group of engineers!  Then, Todd Wright played guitar and sang the night away, until the dancing begun.

The party was dedicated to her best friend, Dr. Jennifer (Smith) Galbraith (Blue Skies Dr. Jennifer (Smith) Galbraith) investigation still ongoing) who passed away last year.  In lieu of gifts, she asked everyone to donate to the Women Giving Back – A HomeAid Northern Virginia Program.  Great idea!  What a perfect way to celebrate life, by helping others live a real life.

I’ll hand it to my sister, she does know how to throw a party!  It was well organized and all details were covered.

Elisa & Nicole… Nicole should have been paying attention to me! #YOLO 6/6/14

Personally, it was nice to meet some of her co-workers and past co-workers and catch up with others I’ve previous met.  Elisa was as always, welcoming and full of life!  Seeing her brings back memories from one Thanksgiving in which, her and her cousin joined us for the turkey feast.  Throughout the night, we caught up and even compared stories and shared pictures of my nephew and her godchild.

Some guests I met for the first time.  It’s neat to hear their perspective regarding my sister.  According to many, the ridge hasn’t left Nicole, yet if you’d ask dad and me, she’s all city now.  I even heard a few mention about Google’ing my parents house out of curiosity with respect to ‘The Ridge’.  OK?  Kind of creepy, but I get the audience I’m dealing with, a group of engineers who are probably like Nicole, and research everything plus have never experienced ‘The Ridge’!  Unfortunately, my parents don’t live on “The Piper Ridge”, but it’s all the same.

The Piper Gals! Nicole, mom & me. #YOLO 6/6/14

It was also great to see the old Penn State crew!  In fact, I was laughing when Portia used my name.  I told her, “I think that’s the first time I heard you refer to me by my name and not, ‘Nikki’s Sister’.”  In college when I would call for Nicole, and one of her friends answered, I would hear, “I think it’s Nikki’s sister since she asked for Nicole.”

Those gals were always a nice bunch.  I got to hang with them briefly.  We even talked about the book I wrote this year.  Yes, on another side note, I wrote a young adult book, originally for Kyle to read, and then I started the second one for a serious.  Not to mention, the flood gates opened up and I have ideas for many more books, which I plan on writing, if for nothing else, just to get my stories out of my head and give Kyle something handmade by me.

I’m considering trying to get the book published, which I was given great advice from Leslie on what to do and how to go about doing it.  She too is an author!  Thanks Leslie for the guidance, I might call you one day to further discuss and compare notes.

Nicole introducing the singer for the evening Todd Wright. It looks like she’s taking lead vocals…. Look in the background… it says #YOL9X with a cat! Only my sister!  #YOLO 6/6/14

Those ladies crack me up!  They are truly awesome!

Mom and I made the trek down to Virginia for the birthday bash.  Where was dad?  He was watching the dogs, like a babysitter instead of putting them in a doggie hotel.  Where was Kyle?  He was in Hershey Park with his jazz band for school.  Then, after they performed, the kids got to stay and ride the rides.  It was a late night for all, except dad.  Kyle said they got back to the school at 1:00 am.  Nicole said mom and I were allowed to stay until 10:00 pm and then we had to make our grand exits, so she could have fun with her friends.  Naturally, I stated the obvious, “I am the fun!”  I know many would agree!

It’s a shame the entire family wasn’t present, but again we are all better suited for the ridge and not the hustle and bustle of the D.C. Metro area, except for Nicole.

A few decorations for Nicole’s #YOLO Party… Yes that 40 sign is covered in pics of Nicole – all years! #YOLO 6/6/14

The best part about the night?  Knowing Nicole, my older and only sister will always and forever be older than me!  We are very opposite in many ways.  This one includes her embracing the big four-0.  I however, will NEVER turn forty!

#YOLO Party was dedicated to Dr. Jennifer (Smith) Galbraith. There were pictures in memory of Jen & Ryan … & Kyle made his appearance! 6/6/14

Happy Birthday Aunt Nikki!

Laughter is wine for the soul – laughter soft, or loud and deep, tinged through with seriousness – the hilarious declaration made by man that life is worth living.  ~Seán O’Casey

Since my posts have been pretty heavy lately, I wanted to come back to my preferred reality of fun and humor.  This post is a bit unconventional, but what the hay, life is short!

Yesterday, I was going through my photos on iPhoto, which usually originate from my iPhone, some from my iPad.  Looks like over a year or two, when there was a funny text message, I would take a screen shot.  Usually when I do this, it’s to be accompanied with a blog post, but some may have been forgotten or there wasn’t the space.  So in honor of these silly text messages, here they are for all to share.  Enjoy!

Warning:  These text messaging screen shots are really NOT funny, but they sure do bring a smile to my face.

My little man… Kyle     Screen shot 5/12/12

This isn’t funny, but simply sweet.  I must have taken a screen shot of my phone screen.  Naturally, guess who always seems to take center stage.  This picture was accrued during a Santa Workshop at Kyle’s elementary school.   He always did love me showing up and helping out, believe it or not.

Here is one that cracked us both up.  My friend Kelly and I were texting back and forth and it appears I wanted to make a Barnes and Noble run, but I was already involved in another book serious.  I have a sneaky suspicion the “book” Kelly was referring to was Allegiant by Veronica Roth.  Usually, I order my books online, but sometimes I do swing by the store in a moment of book desperation.  This one I remember I ordered to begin upon completion of the Harry Potter books.  The show, which involved the auto correct is called Mike & Molly.  Auto correct struck again!

Wanting to read Allegiant but busy reading the Harry Potter books. 10/1/12

I remember this day very clearly.  For it was a day of disgust, intrigue and pure victory.  After much distraught and confusion, I finally found what was running rampant in my house.  I thought it was a mouse, a super mouse to be exact, but after I caught the elusive critter, I found out it was a chipmunk!  Gross.  Yes!  But victory was mine and I could now find peace in my own house. Of Mice and Me … Part 4

Chipmunk Incident 10/28/12

Every year, Nicole takes Kyle for a week in the summer.  It’s been referred to as the ‘Aunt Nikki and Kyle’s Week of Fun’.  Sometimes they do stuff locally around the D.C. Metro Area or sometimes they go away for the week or a few days.  It’s a nice time for them to spend together.

This particular trip included a bunch of cold showers.  Kyle cracks me up!  We’ve been bribing and fighting with Kyle to take showers for as long as I can remember.  He never wants to!  I still have no idea what his aversion is to being clean, but there it is.

There were times when I wouldn’t get him for a week, and when I did, he was greasy and filthy!  Then, to only be resistant when taking the plunge.  You could tell it wasn’t an act that was reinforced regularly and instilled in him (not from my family, we love to shower and do it regularly, meaning daily).  I had the same problem with Kyle and brushing his teeth.

Recently, Kyle said to me, “I always take a shower, every night.”  What?  News flash buddy, who are you trying to kid?  He made it out like he’s been do this his whole life, but in reality it was this past week.    I’m on to you and I have proof!

Kyle’s comment on cold showers during Aunt Nikki and Kyle’s Week of Fun. 11/13/12

This did crack me up.  While outlining Christmas plans for the year, out of nowhere, Nicole started the Soft Kitty song.  She cracks me up.  I showed it to Kyle and he was grinning from ear to ear, being a fan of the song and the show, The Big Bang Theory.

Nicole texting Soft Kitty to me.. for no reason just to be silly. I cracked up! 12/21/12

I read random things online.  Usually they are human interest stories, news articles, breaking news, politics and such, but there is the occasion, when I find something that catches my eye for pure entertainment.

I started writing blog posts about these interesting facts, eventually calling them ‘Random Fun Facts’.  They are simply information and statistics, which I was not aware of or did and forgot, or information I feel others might find interesting.  This particular blog topic was focused on flatulence.  Yes!  Farting!  I found it funny and entertaining, which I clearly replied to Nicole, after she evidently read the blog post.  Facts About Farting  Read it, it’s actually enlightening!

Our conversation based off of my blog post, Facts About Farting. 12/27/12

This conversation started out discussing business, Thrill of the Hunt, our start-up company.  Apparently, I needed a check for something.  If my memory serves me correct, it was to pay for our booth at either the Banana Split Festival in Latrobe or the Steelerfest at Saint Vincent College (Random Fun Facts: Saint Vincent College, Bertha Nesser’s Alma Mater May You Both Find Eternal Peace).

I am happy to announce the business has come a long way in a little over a year, yet we still have many more journeys ahead.

What cracks me up, in the middle of our presumably serious conversation, Nicole goes south.  Please refer to the previous screen shot and entry, where she makes fun of me and my flatulence topic.  Can’t tell we’re sisters?  At least mine was in response to an infographic I read, hers was due to an experience.  Notice how I instantly threw my dog, Seven under the bus!

Nicole & I discussing our company Thrill of the Hunt & then the conversation quickly goes south! 8/7/13

These screen shots were my proof, I needed to sent to Kyle, showing I’m not a terrible chess player.  We both love to play the game, and as I’ve mentioned before I taught Kyle to play when he was just a little man. Checkmate – Game of Chess  Naturally, at that time I used to crush him, not so much in present days.  This particular instance, I was playing the computer and I won!  Twice!  I was on fire!  Granted, I’m sure if it was on the hardest or easiest setting.  However, come to think of it, it might have been on the hardest, since Kyle is the one who manages the controls.  Regardless, I took screen shots and IMed them to Kyle.  Victory was mine!

On a side note, I always have to be white and Kyle black, as per my little man.

On the left 8/10/13 & on the right 8/11/13 I beat the computer… finally. I had to send these to Kyle! Victory was mine!

This conversation was between me and Kyle.  To be honest, I don’t really remember why he was asking about my legs or what book he wanted.  I wish I would have kept some of Kyle’s other text messages, even though they usually only consist of “Ya” and “Ok”.  Man of few words.  The funny part of this text is Kyle’s call out of “Bad Girl”, an inside joke (that I guess is not so inside anymore) WannaBe 80′s Scavenger Hunt & a Puppy In a Day.

Bad Girl joke in our family… Kyle cracks me up! 8/21/13

Kyle strikes again.  He will only reach out if he needs something, and of course I always comply.  This time he needed a recipe for school.  I guess he was making something in Home Ec or they were reviewing recipes (I remember doing the same thing).  Later, I told Kyle we needed to work on his spelling, I guess his phone doesn’t have auto correct or it’s clearly not turned on.

I love being able to communicate with Kyle through so many different means!  My favorite is in person, but I’ll take what I can get when he’s not with me.

Kyle needed a recipe for school. He needs to turn on his spell check! 2/13/14

This is my favorite of all!  At this point, every time I looked at Facebook through the app on my phone, this is what I saw.  It totally cracked me up!  Look at her face taking up the entire space!

What was really funny, this went on for a few days, every time I opened the app, there was Nicole’s head staring back at me.  It seemed to never update and push me through to other posts.  It was stuck on Nicole’s head!  Taking this as an opportunity to instigate, I screen shot it and shared it with her.

Good old Aunt Nikki! 12/14/13

Confront the dark parts of yourself, and work to banish them with illumination and forgiveness. Your willingness to wrestle with your demons will cause your angels to sing.  ~August Wilson

Gram doesn’t look too happy. She shouldn’t with that cigarette in her hand, especially around a kid, inside.  How selfish!  We should be yelling at her!  Christmas 1979

You know, I will admit television programming has gone down hill, at least from when I was a kid.  The days of watching The Brady Bunch and Wonder Woman are over.  Now don’t get me wrong, I like some of the shows and yes some are too violent in my opinion for Kyle to watch, however I enjoy them.

For the most part, all the shows, mostly the reality ones strike a never with me.  If you sit there and flip through the channels, everyone is yelling.  I mean disrespect, profanities, and sometimes shoving accompanies the yelling.  What is up with that?  I didn’t realize it till I was sitting there reading a book and listening to dad flip the channels.  Literally, it was yelling, turn channel, yelling, turn channel, yelling.  Friend is screaming at friend, neighbor fighting with neighbor, husband belittling wife (and visa versa), dad scolding son (and visa versa) and stranger hollering at another stranger.  What is so upsetting?

Example, Bar Rescue, Hardcore Pawn, Pawn Stars are even starting to belittle each other, Food Channel is usually pretty good but they are embracing the yelling culture during food challenges, Hell’s Kitchen, Hotel Impossible etc.  Come on, aren’t you trying to help the businesses or participants?  Is yelling really going to help?  Perhaps sometimes, but not ALL the time.  Let’s not get into the other reality shows like the Bachelor/Bachelorette, news channels, talk shows and those family reality shows.  Instead of respecting one another, they try and talk over the other person, or worse they will actually scream ‘Shut UP!’.  Rude!  The loudest voice is not necessarily the right one.  Again, I don’t watch these shows, but I’ve seen them in advertisements and I’ve caught glimpses during while surfing.

I guess that’s what sells, yelling and confrontations.  So in a way yelling equals money.  Perhaps I should have skipped college and worked on my arguing skills.

Granted, I really don’t watch that much television and when I do it involves The Big Bang Theory, Mike & Molly, Elementary, or The Originals.  I do enjoy the O’ Reilly Factor, he doesn’t yell!  In fact, he stops people from talking over one another and he doesn’t raise his voice in the process.  Intelligent civil debates I can handle, but yelling and finger pointing and blaming the world for your split ends is ridiculous.

The sad part is, no one is even hearing each other.  Sometimes they are not even making sense, they are just screaming for the sake of screaming or perhaps for the cameras.  Regardless, it’s distracting and I believe it’s toxic.  We wonder why there is so much violence and road rage?  Simple, anger is instilled in everyone, especially when you’re being brainwashed for hours a day in front of the boob tube.  You become calloused to the verbal violence and then it becomes natural.

When Kyle was little, he was NEVER allowed to say ‘Shut Up’ to anyone, EVER!  And if he raised his voice, he was timed-out or a mark was placed on his behavior chart.  I get it.  There are times when yelling is necessary, especially to drive a point home or get someone’s attention, but again NOT ALL the time.

In fact, I remember once when Nicole and I were arguing about Lord knows what.  Kyle had to be about three or so.  Nicole slapped me on the arm.  Not hard, but she did make the gesture out of frustration.  Kyle was mortified!  He went running to my mom and said, “Gigi, Gigi, Aunt Nitti hit Aiya for no reason!”  He even demonstrated the motion.  It was too cute actually, except he was obviously distraught over this behavior.  I truly believe he was changed at that moment, forever.  You can’t tell me that being in that environment, (not that I’m saying that’s a standard environment in our household) even though it was seriously very brief before we retreated to our corners for Kyle’s sake, doesn’t effect everyone in one way or another.  Granted Kyle didn’t and still doesn’t grow up in a violent household, at least not around us, but I’m sure many kids do.  It’s the point that even a brief moment of yelling and arguing effects everyone it encounters, let alone watching it for hours a day.

This is the best! Mom yelling while wearing a t-shirt that says ‘Have a Nice Day’! Too funny! c. 1980′s

My grandmother used to yell constantly, mostly to my grandpap, who was a quiet man.  Keep in mind, my grandma isn’t exactly the poster child for proper or nurturing behavior either.  Personally, I still hear enough yelling from my mom.  In fact, the older she gets the more she yells and not at specific instances, at EVERYTHING!  She’s embracing the yelling culture.  To be fair to mom, it’s not day and night like I’m making it sound, but at short stents, which again is too much for me.

As kids when we would get hurt, she’d yell at us first.  When we did something bad, understandably she’d yell.  Sometimes when we asked a question, she’d respond by yelling first.  Yikes!  Stop raising your voice!  Mom claimed that no one in her family ever fought or raised their voices, including my grandpap Chester, my Uncle Walter and Aunt Mary and the list goes on.  So what changed her?  My guess, marrying into the family and listening to my grandma.  Perhaps that’s the Risher (Alice Piper) trait.

My brother was never like that, he was more quiet, mirroring my pap, unless really really really provoked.  My dad is hit or miss, but he’s usually quiet unless again he’s pushed.  My sister on the other hand is great dealing with other people, but when it comes to the family, yelling all the way.

Why is it so important in our pop culture to scream and yell?  Granted, I am not innocent to such actions, but it takes me a while to get that fired up and it’s only over a good reason.  I will raise my voice and act out if I’m trying to make a point, usually including Kyle.  However, there are instances when I just plain loose my patience and go off the deep end, but those I attempt to manage, trying to keep my cool and not add to an environment of yelling.  It only puts everyone in a bad mood including myself and I hate being in a bad mood.

Seriously, I’ve heard it from many, with instances of calling the phone company or the cable company or a retail store or school.  Everyone is fired up and ready for a screaming battle.  Perhaps if they didn’t go into battle with that sort of expectation, then compromises would be made or solutions would be found sooner rather than later.

Even thinking about all the yelling does put me on edge.  I can’t be the only person who’s noticed it and who detests this form of communication.  Am I?

A human life is a story told by God. ~Hans Christian Andersen

Melanie A. Grimm
December 18, 1976 – March 28,2014

&

Bertha F. Nesser
December 19, 1970 – May 22, 2014

Melanie Grimm giving a reassuring thumbs up! Rest-in-Peace 12/18/76 – 3/28/14

Recently, meaning within the last couple of months and a week ago, two friends of mine from back in the day, have separately moved on into their eternal journeys.  Melanie Grimm and Bertha Nesser both passed away at young ages, but graced everyone who knew them with their friendship and loving spirits.

Unfortunately, in recent times, I’ve lost touch with both ladies, only reaching out via Facebook or the rare get together, but I still considered them friends.  To be honest, I took advantage of these distant friendships, thinking they would be around for a long long time, into our ripe old ages.  I guess God had other plans.

Previously, I wanted to pay homage to Melanie, who passed away on Friday, March 28, 2014, but was never sure how, it’s been weighing on my heart.  To be honest, I was in a little bit of shock, knowing she was sick for quite some time, yet remaining in that false safe place called denial.

Then, Bertha passed, on Thursday, May 22, 2014.  Now the true reality of death is standing in front of me and staring me in the face, without as much as a blink or a flinch.  I know this is a part of life, but one I was hoping to postpone for many years.

Recently, Grandma Ferry – Moving Into Greener Pastures, passed at the age of 97.  That’s an acceptable age, at least in my mind, but 37 years and 43 years, respectively, is uncompromisable, again in my tunnel vision.  I’m still trying to fathom the death of my cousin Tommy who was only 13 years old.  Moving On Too Soon – Thomas Watson Piper.  I know there’s no age prerequisite for dying, but some ages make more sense to me than others.

Bertha Nesser looking radiant. Rest-in-Peace 12/19/70 – 5/22/14

There is no doubt that there is a world of people, meaning strangers, who have experienced worse in life, so much more so than I can ever imagine.  But the death of a friend still shakes a person up a bit.

I’m no stranger to dealing with a sudden loss, and I’ve experienced tragedy first hand.  Nothing can ever compare, nor crumble my spirits and drop me to my knees with sadness and sorrow like it did with Ryan’s passing, at least I hope not for a long time.  Yet, loosing a friend effects me in a different way, not better or worse, just different.  It certainly rekindles emotions from Ryan’s funeral.

Sometimes, I wish I could become callous to death and facing the loss of loved ones with ease and without sadness.  Personally, I guess I wish that of no one, for every life has meaning and is essential to the world and should be treated with extreme importance.  However, on the same note, even though death is inevitable, I pray for many to have peace when exiting this world and their family and friends are graced with acceptance and strength.  My heart bleeds for those suffering, truly heartbreaking.

It’s weird, but both gals, Melanie and Bertha were very similar, at least in ways that come to my mind; fun, goodhearted, hard working and friendly, to name a few.  I came to know Melanie through a friend, as did I with Bertha.  Did they know each other?  I don’t believe so, but without a doubt they would have been friends.

I don’t mean to lessen either death by combining them in one blog post, but to be honest, I don’t think I could have ever mustered two separate tributes without it breaking me down.  It seems as though I am comforted to speak of them together and deal with their deaths as one whole, little bit more manageable from my point-of-view.

I want to give a call out to each lady and reiterate how genuine and great each one was in life, and how missed they are and will be for years to come.  My thoughts and prayers go out to everyone Melanie and Bertha touched.

God Speed Melanie Grimm

God Speed Bertha Nesser  

Accept who you are. Unless you’re a serial killer.  ~Ellen DeGeneres

Dad hanging out watching television – Nicole’s fish tank in the background c. 1990

With the recent posts of those passing away, I feel like my blog has become an obituary.  I truly want to pay my respects and share stories to those who have passed, yet I need to find humor in the every day.

First, I must say, by writing this post I mean absolutely no disrespect.  It’s just something I’ve notice, as did mom, and I wanted to share.  I find dad funny and it’s how he is and that’s the way it is.  I take no offense to dad’s ignorance, just plain humor in his cluelessness.

Most people have a tendency to omit details and not pay attention to others, and yet there are others with this wonderful talent for such details.  I’m referring to specifics such as likes and dislikes with respect to food, their favorite color, their favorite music group or hobby and the list goes on and on.  Even those are pretty big items most people are aware of with close family and friends.  But what about the smaller, sometimes unknown finer points about a persons personality or habits?  Usually they are commonplace with close family, right?

Dad has no trouble keeping tabs on deer season, turkey season or fishing season.  Those are pretty standard times of the year, and I too can give a guess without looking up exact dates.  However, dad has this unique talent for naming specifics when it comes to those activities.  He can tell me what rifle I was using two years ago, what rifle shot what point deer and who made the shot.  He can tell me what grain of power is in my shells, Kyles and his and what he used the previous year and how each one shot.  He can name each location in four different counties where Ryan and him shot deer, my mom, my sister, Kyle and even me, for all the years we’ve been hunting!  Seriously no joke!  Our Hunting Adventures…New York, Our Hunting Adventures…New York Continued.  He can do the same for small game and fishing.  Actually, it’s pretty amazing.  This talent has yet to slow down, he’s still that sharp.

This recollection also can be applied to dad’s fruit and nut trees.  Dad can rattle of each of the fruit and nut trees in the back yard (about 25 different kinds) without missing a beat.  He can also tell you when each one was planted and how each one produced year-over-year.  He too can name the types of vegetables we planted in the garden every year since I was little.  Pretty impressive!

It doesn’t stop there.  He can name each location where he cleared out trees, worked in the woods or hauled lumber.  Ingrained In the Wood  Sometimes he can tell you what logs he chopped down and hauled out and where they went.  We’re talking over the course of most of his life working in the woods since he was nine or ten!

I think it’s safe to say, that dad is still as sharp as a tack, at least with respect to his interests.  Then there are those times when he is completely oblivious.  Example, when I was in the junior high, mom took me to get my ears pierced with my second holes.  I wasn’t allowed to get my ears pierced until I was in the fifth grade, but a few years later mom allowed me to get two more holes with the understanding that I stopped there.  About three or four years later, after the holes healed up and become commonplace, we were sitting in the living-room and out of nowhere dad asked defensively, “When did you get your ears pierced again?”  I actually sat in shock not truly remembering.  He had NO idea!  It’s not like I had long hair that covered my ears.  It’s not like we didn’t mention we were heading to the mall and what we were doing.  It’s not like there was a big conspiracy or secret kept from him regarding my ears.  Nope, my ear jewelry was a widely known fact that somehow passed over his head.

Dad & Kyle cruising on the quad. Kyle loves his pappy! c. 2004

Now let’s get to the silliness of this blog.  When we were butchering the pig a few months ago, Bringing Home the Bacon…Literally dad stepped out and come back with lunch.  (Sometimes I work out of my parent’s kitchen)  Great!  Much appreciated.  What did he get me?  He got me a Subway sandwich.  Good!  Meatball.  Good!  With lettuce?  Not sure how to take that.  Dad knows I love lettuce and salads, so in his mind he felt lettuce on top of the meatball hoagie was the way to my heart.  Umm…. ok?  Did I eat it?  You bet!  Did I mention this strange combination to dad?  Never!  Love the attempt, just a slight miss.

Then, a few weeks ago, dad came home with strawberry frozen yogurt milkshakes for me and mom.  That was a nice surprise.  Dad’s favorite flavor?  Strawberry.  Mom’s favorite flavor?  Chocolate.  Dad got her strawberry.  My favorite flavor?  Vanilla.  Dad got me strawberry.  Mom and I laughed while sucking down our strawberry milkshakes.  After all these years, he truly has no clue.

Recently, I got a hankering for chocolate covered raisins.  Not a favorite stable, but a nice treat every once-in-a-while.  Dad noticed I was eating them because he asked me what I was shoveling in my face.  Between chomps, I informed him, chocolate covered raisins, before polishing off the bag.  Keep in mind, he heard me and I didn’t stammer my words or speak another language when I answered him.  The next day or two, dad comes home with malted milk duds, which I absolutely hate.  In this particular instance, I did mention my displeasure with those gross pieces of chocolate, only after popping one in my mouth thinking it was a chocolate covered raisin.  To my surprise, it was not!

Me: “Oooo Dad, these are malted milk duds!”
Dad: “Ya, don’t you like those?”
Me:  “No, I thought it was a chocolate covered raisin.”
Dad: “You scarfed them down the other day, I didn’t even get one.”
Me:  “Those were chocolate covered raisins!  I told you when you asked.”
Dad:  “O, well I’m sure they will be gone by tomorrow.”
Me:  “I don’t think so.”

They are still sitting in the same place with one missing.  I can’t stomach those things!  Even mom and Kyle turn their nose up to them.

Personally, I’m not a picky eater, truly I’m not.  There are very few food items that I won’t eat.  However, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had to reiterate that I don’t eat peppers, no kind of peppers.  Yet dad will bring it up, “Want some stuffed peppers?” or “Let’s get peppers on the pizza.”  No thanks, I’m good!

Gotta love dad!  He truly has no clue, but then again if he did, I wouldn’t have anything to write about.  I know it’s the thought that counts, but he sure is funny!

Everybody talks about wanting to change things and help and fix, but ultimately all you can do is fix yourself. And that’s a lot. Because if you can fix yourself, it has a ripple effect.  ~Rob Reiner

Pap (Walter Piper), Gram (Alice Piper), Uncle Sonny (Walter Piper Jr.) & Dad (Ronald Piper) c. 1954

This past weekend we were watching one of those shows that take you on a factory tour of a particular product.  This time it was milk.  Yep, that white silky smooth liquid enriched with vitamins including Calcium.

So why is milk so significant to me?  It’s really not.  I’m not a big fan of it, not since I was a little kid.  I definitely don’t consume milk independently nor do I use it regularly.  With the exception of using the creamy liquid as an ingredient, it would be omitted from the grocery list.  Nope, we really don’t eat dry cereal and on the very rare occasion I do, (which it’s been seriously years because of all the sugar – my favorite is Cinnamon Toast Crunch) I apply the milk very sparingly.  Same goes for Kyle, although I know he drinks milk at school and unlike me, he’ll flood his cereal.

Again, why this dissertation on milk?  Watching the show made me remember Mr. Hixon, our milkman.  Yes, believe it or not, when I was growing up, our family had a milkman who would deliver the crate of milk and retrieve the empty glass bottles to start the cycle again.  I believe we had milk delivered a couple times a week, then with less consumption as we got older, our delivery dropped to once a week.  Just talking about it now, makes me feel like that was a whole world away, since not many people of my generation experienced the same.  However, the old fashioned notion of a milkman was alive and well when I was a youngster.

Mr. Hixon lived up on Solomon Temple Road (Butina Ridge).  His cows were natural grazing cattle that used to be hand milked.  The milk consumed, once it reached our doorstep, was probably the freshest anyone has ever had, unless they lived on a dairy farm.  I truly don’t remember if it was pasteurized or not.  I’m guessing it was, but it certainly was the real deal that separated in the glass bottle while being stored in the refrigerator.  To this day, I have the habit of shaking the milk carton before using it, re-distributing the cream that floated to the top back among the rest of the contents.

Aunt Fredricka Piper, Uncle Leroy Piper, Aunt Ida Tarr, Great grandparents Cleveland Piper & Myrtle Piper

It makes me sad the milkman is not a profession anymore, at least none that I am aware.  I wish Kyle would have experienced the good old fashion milkman and real milk, not the heavily processed kind, shipped all around the nation, purchased in stores.

Personally, I think we should get back to the small dairy farms who distribute fresh, unpasteurized milk.  Yes, I said unpasteurized.  Our bodies need some of the good bacteria that is removed during pasteurization along with the natural nutrients that are also lost.  Yes I know what they claim, the nutrients are reintroduced, but to me that’s again messing with the natural product and is now processed.

In fact, I don’t get it.  The government regulates our milk intake, meaning it’s illegal for dairy farms to distribute milk that is not pasteurized.  That’s ridiculous!  Yet, they permit pesticides on fruits and vegetables, they permit all this extra crap like preservatives and unnatural substances to be added to food to increase the shelf life, or worse the dyes added, which are proven harmful.  Those items are not illegal and distributed freely and widely, however good old fashioned natural products of are not permitted.

If I want to eat dirt, then I should be allowed to do so.  If I want to drink unpasteurized milk, then that is my choice.  I agree with holding these facilities to certain clean standards and maintaining good conditions for the animals, but to tell me what I can and cannot drink is not right and not the healthy way to live.  Look at energy drinks, they literally have killed people!  Yet, they are advertised and widely sold to all ages.

A while back I read an article about others who felt the same way.  Their solution?  To get around this law, they actually sold stock in the dairy cows.  Instead of selling the milk, they were given the milk as a share of the cow.  Pretty clever!  I want to get in on that deal.

I knew a couple of families who had children with terrible stomach issues and most certainly couldn’t drink milk from the store.  Whether they partook in the stock program of a cow or they had another method for obtaining raw milk, they did so on a regular basis.  And guess what?  Over time, the kids were able to drink the raw milk and their stomach issues were almost immediately eliminated.  This happened without the use of drugs or medication or doctors or expensive medical technology or anything other than getting back to the basics and finding a simple solution that’s been there all along.  Granted you can’t just start drinking the raw milk, you need to be re-introduced to it, but once the body adjusts, it’s a healthy decision.

Did you know there is a bill trying to be passed, which would force all food to be industrialized, meaning home grown food in our very own gardens would be illegal?  Yes, completely true.  It was mentioned briefly on Fox News, but because of Obamacare, it hasn’t gotten much attention.

In many ways, I believe wholeheartedly we need to get back to our roots.  It’s healthier, it’s better, and it’s the right way.  Everything seems to come full circle and organic is being noticed as a healthier alternative, especially when there can be money made from it.  I’m fine with that, as long as I know Kyle is being fed healthy.

When you set sail for Ithaca,
wish for the road to be long,
full of adventures, full of knowledge.  ~C.P. Cavafy

July 6, 1917 – May 8, 2014

God retrieved another good soul, but blessed us with her for 97 years.  Mrs. Sophie (Ferry) McLaughlin was a good friend of my family’s for as long as I can remember, as long as my mom can recollect.  The entire Ferry clan has been an integral part of our entire life, living on the opposite hillside.

Grandma Ferry, as we always called her, which is exactly what she was to us, a grandma, passed away on Thursday, May 8, 2014.

Some may ask why I would call this neighbor lady, who clearly wasn’t even related, with the honor of the grandma title?  Easy, my maternal grandmother passed when my mom was a teenager, so I never met her.  It’s true my paternal grandmother is alive and well (still is causing trouble), but let’s say Grandma Ferry was more of the grandmotherly type.  Granted, we had my Uncle Walter and Aunt Mary down over the hill who were also very close with us and like a another set of grandparents, but somehow Grandma Ferry got the title and it has remained ever since.

Grandma Ferry  lived directly behind my parent’s house, most of her life, until she re-married and moved to Ohio.  During my childhood, occasionally she was needed to babysit, and let me tell you it wasn’t a free for all.  Nope, if our rooms were a mess (which usually they were), then she made us clean them up and organize the disaster.  If the house needed cleaned, we had to get to work straight away.  If any work, inside or out, needed done, there was no time to dilly dally.  When it was time to feed us, she wasn’t no short order cook.  O no!  We helped her prepare our lunches and no television while eating.  We had to sit at the table and eat together, the way it should be.

I remember once when I was hanging cloths, yes back then we had cloths lines strung up alongside the house.  Part of my chores were to hang the dripping wet garments and take them down, fold them and put them away.  One day, while doing so, I remember as plain as day, I spotted Grandma Ferry making a beeline for me.  Her house sat up higher on the hill directly behind mom and dad’s, making our backyard and the sides of the house easily visible.  As a kid, I know I rolled my eyes when I spotted her, because I didn’t want to be doing these chores, let alone listen to someone tell me how to do them.  She marched right up to me and showed me the right way to hang the laundry.  My comment, “That’s not how mom does it.”, which we all know my mom was never the poster child for good housekeeping.  In her own polite way, without throwing my mom under the bus, she held her ground and showed me the reasoning for hanging the clothing a certain way and the correct way to do so, which I remember to this day.

Every once in a while she would have me and Ryan rake her leaves or grass clippings.  She paid us in homemade soup and freshly baked bread.  I remember thinking, I would rather have some cold hard cash (I would have never dared ask), but the food was so delicious it made all the work worthwhile.  She also didn’t let us slack while raking.  Nope!  If we missed areas she would point them out and we weren’t done until the job was done, no matter how long it took us.  We always had to finish what we started.

She really was a huge help to mom and dad, especially when mom went back to work when I was in the third grade.

While playing in the backyard or taking hikes up through the woods with my cousins, she would always pop her head out to see what we were up to, questioning our actions every now-and-again and sometimes not speaking a word.

Thinking about our interactions with Grandma Ferry now, from a different perspective, she was never a nag or a pain, she really cared for us.

On a side note, sometime when I was little, dad put in our small orchard, which overlooked Grandma Ferry’s front porch.  She always loved it, especially when dad would mow.  Dad even commented that she came down one day, while the digging had begun, and gave dad a little bit of money to put toward the project.  She too had an apple tree and a huge grape harbor, which again Ryan and I would have to pick.

Did I think she was annoying and bossy?  You bet!  Exactly like I did my own parents, that same bittersweet love.  She really was my family and truly a nice lady.  However, you never crossed her for she wouldn’t take any crap, and that meant from us kids, even around our own parents.  Most adults shy away from disciplining kids in front of their parents, especially ones that aren’t their own.   Not Grandma Ferry.  She knew where she stood and demanded respect and demanded we show respect to our parents and each other.

We always joke around wondering how I know how to fold and clean properly and am so organized, the complete opposite of mom.  I think I finally found my answer, Grandma Ferry.  Looking back on it now, I owe her a lot.  She wasn’t just the little old neighbor lady.  She was a big part of our childhood and helped reinforce what we were taught, respect and hard work.  She taught me to do laundry, clean, yard work and even a little cooking.  She was one of the good ones, who took an invested interest in us, not for her own sake, but for ours.

I’m sure she led a great life before I came into this world, and I know she led one while I was here, being a first hand witness.  I can’t even imagine what those eyes have seen over a span of ninety-seven years.

Rest-in-Peace Grandma Ferry! 

Thank you for being you!  You will always be remembered!  

Death is a distant rumor to the young. ~Andrew A. Rooney

March 12, 2001 – May 9, 2014

Thomas Piper – image courtesy of Terri Lynn Lewis on Facebook.

Death is not an easy part of life, however there are some circumstances, which are harder than others.  This one is truly heartbreaking.  I want to send my deepest sympathy and condolences to Thomas’ family and friends.

My cousin Thomas Watson Piper was killed in a car accident on Friday, May 9th.  I don’t know much about the details, but like my mom says, “It doesn’t change anything anyway.”

Stepping back to understand how we’re related, since there are so many Piper’s, here is a very brief general outline of our family tree.  My pap (Walter Piper) had a brother, Merle Piper, my uncle.  Again there are a lot of other siblings but I’m just tracing one line down.  His wife was my Aunt Mary and among all the kids, they had Richard, who later married Eileen.  They had a son, Aaron Piper, who in turn had a son Thomas Piper.

Unfortunately, with such a large family we each get lost in the shuffle, or in Thomas’ case, live out of state in North Carolina.  I never really had the opportunity to get to know my little cousin, but regardless he is still family.  Perhaps over the years I met him, but I am saddened to say, I truly don’t remember.

Again not knowing a lot about this young man, I can say for certain he was loved and seemed like a pretty good kid.  Following Aaron’s Facebook posts helped to keep me in the know with my distant relatives.

It’s true, I did attend Eileen’s funeral, Thomas’ grandmother, but those are moments when I put my head down, pay my respects and give support to the family, before scooting out the back door, so to speak.  I know getting reacquainted with my relatives is never on the top of my list.

When I heard about Thomas’ tragedy, of course I was saddened, not wanting anyone to endure such an ordeal.  Admittedly, the details of the misfortune really hit home with me.

Tommy was only thirteen years old, about the same age as Kyle is now.  That really puts things into perspective.  As mentioned earlier, he died in a car accident.  Now that paints a whole new scene of nagging sorrow and depression, since loosing Ryan, Kyle’s dad in a car accident.

My heart bleeds for the family and friends of the deceased.  I will continue to reach out through prayers and thoughts during this time.

God Speed Thomas Watson Piper!   

Online condolences may be made by visiting www.millerfhc.com.

Here is the complete obituary as well as a screen shot below.

The best portion of a good man’s life: his little, nameless unremembered acts of kindness and love.  ~William Wordsworth

Grant Olczak getting ready to catch the big fish at the 25th Annual Planinsek Fishing Derby. 5/10/14

The 25th Annual Louis Planinsek Fishing Derby was a one-hundred percent success!  Did it rain?  Sure!  But that didn’t stop our little fishermen and the families from getting together and enjoying themselves.

It was actually a perfect cool morning to start the Fishing Derby.  The rain held off for a little while and came and went throughout the day, eventually letting up in the evening.

Kyle had a spectacular time!  On the contrary to years past, this time he was the fishing king.  Not in respect to winning the biggest trout, for that honor was ultimately awarded to Chuck Webb for his eighteen and half inch trout.  Nicely done!

Dad, Kyle, Olivia are prepped & ready to start the Fishing Derby! 5/10/14

Nope, Kyle ruled in a different way, in terms of fish biting and reeling them in.  I know he was up to at least nine fish.  Of course we could only keep three and released the rest, but that didn’t matter to Kyle, he was having a blast!

Dad was helping Kyle, and Casey was right beside us helping Grant and Olivia.  Occasionally, dad was assisting with baiting Grant’s line, pulling in fish for Olivia or untangling line for Amelia and her friend.  Somehow, I became the net girl.  Dad would yell, “Heather, get the net!” or “Heather, where’s the net?” or “Heather, help them out with their fish”.  Even Dave, a.k.a. Boo would inquire about the usage of our net.  I felt like a dog running back and forth trying to catch fish.  It really was an entertaining time.  I loved seeing the kids having so much fun and dad enjoying the same.

Kyle, Grant and Olivia each caught a Palomino, which results in a small prize.  I believe Olivia caught two.  Kyle’s prize of choice, Bait Lure, which fell out of his pocket later on in the day and was never found again.  Although this minor instance didn’t stop Kyle from telling his tales of the fish reeled in.

During the day, while shooting the breeze with other Fishing Derby enthusiasts, it was brought to my attention that Tricia Sutton Elliott enjoys reading my blog posts.

Thanks Tricia!  I appreciate your feedback and interest in reliving my silly and sometimes unique stories told from my point-of-view.  I know on occasion I can get pretty animated with my descriptions and details, so I hope I do you proud with this one.

I did promise Tricia a stellar blog post.  Well, there really wasn’t much in terms of excitement throughout the day, but it doesn’t mean it was boring.

Grant & Casey unhooking his catch! Fishing Derby 5/10/14

It’s true, the day consisted of the usual, fishing, food, drinks, fishing and more food, food, food.  This year, Jimmy Singer added to our entertainment and nostalgia with a video slide show from Fishing Derby’s past.  He made a couple beautiful videos, complete with music and pictures he scanned and organized into an amusing digital flashback.  It was nice to be under the pavilion with everyone, pointing out familiar faces that have grown up over the years and those who are no longer with us.  Truly a sweet tribute.  Nicely done Jimmy!

Now to a silly story.  Nothing is ever simple when you get Kyle and me together.  But then again, that’s the fun of hanging out with my little man.

I let Kyle run around and play with the kids well into the night.  The campfire was blazing and everyone was enjoying small talk and silliness, so naturally I joined in.  Even though I looked down to see it was after eight at night, I never said a word, figuring I’d wait for Kyle to determine our time of departure, even though my bed was calling my name.

Getting ready to start the 25th Annual Planinsek Fishing Derby. 5/10/14

Eventually, I by nine-thirty or so, Kyle was ready for bed.  Keep in mind we got there at 7:30 am.  Making our way through the mud and slop created by the falling rain throughout the day, we headed for my car, which was parked on the far side of the pavilion.  While heading int that direction, we passed the pond to only spark our memory.  THE FISH!

Kyle’s catches from the day were still chained waiting in the water.  Yikes!  If I remembered earlier, I would have gutted the fish and cleaned them in advance.

Now we needed to literally find the fish.  Picture the two of us, exhausted, in the pitch black, up by the pond, using my iPhone light to guide us along the path, to find the chain leading into the water holding two trout and a Palomino.

It took a little back and forth, and cat-like vision on my part, but we found our slimy friends from the depths of the pond and headed to car, to only realize a minor problem.  I didn’t bring a bucket or a bag to transport the fish!  O crap!  Even in the darkness I could see Kyle giving me an ornery grin.

Beth Planinsek upfront, behind Cindy & Dave Planinsek & Barb Planinsek to the left. Fishing Derby 5/10/14

He suggested I place the fish on the car floor.  My answer came to me in less then a fraction of a second.  No!  Actually, heck NO!  What to do?  I knew leaving the fish with someone else was not an option and neither one of us felt like heading back to the late night party to ask around for a solution, so I came up with my own.  Hang the fish outside the car.

I know, sounds funny, and believe you me, it was!  Originally I wanted Kyle to hold onto the chain that held the fish, but he wouldn’t, so I did.  I simply wound down the window, hung the fish out, held tightly onto the chain (praying I wouldn’t accidentally drop them while driving) and headed to my parents house, about five minutes away.

Everyone once in a while a fish would kick and scare me.  It was dark out, so I’m sure the passing cars didn’t see my new decor hanging out the window, but if they did they probably brushed it off as late night eyes playing tricks on them.

Dave Planinsek reviewing the rules before the bugle blows to being the Fishing Derby 5/10/14

Kyle and I were cracking up!  While cruising along it suddenly dawned on me, we were heading into Youngstown (Pennsylvania, no we didn’t drive into Ohio) on a Saturday night and it might be busy with restaurant traffic.  Immediately, Kyle and I noticed the light turned yellow and then red, stopping us in our tracks.  Yes, being first in line at the four way intersection, under the street lamps, I sat in my car holding onto a chain with three dead fish.  That was too much for us, we were dying, laughing at my solution.

Then to add to the funniness, Kyle said in the most sarcastic dry tone, “Well, this isn’t awkward.”  Hilarious!

Eventually we made it to mom and dad’s and the next morning Kyle and I cleaned the fish for dinner and all worked out.

On a side note, I want to give big kudos to Kyle for a number of reasons.  First he really was on his best behavior!  I found out that sometime during the day, Kyle – twelve years old assisted Grant – six years old and Olivia – nine years old, (I think) with untangling their fishing lines, baiting their hooks and casting, (fishing continues till 5:00 pm) when no one was around.  Then, later on in the evening, Mrs. Tricia Sutton Elliott herself approached Kyle and me and thanked Kyle for playing with her son Jacob, who is nine, and for being a friend to him.  Tricia told me they played very well together.  Way to go buddy!

Pan of the 25th Annual Louis Planinsek Fishing Derby. 5/10/14

On another side note, before the prizes were raffled off of the kids table, I was joking with Kyle how much I like the fishing vest displayed for some lucky winner.  Truly I liked it, but joking because I didn’t expect him to give up a prize for himself to get me one.  Low and behold he walked up to me with a HUGE smile on his face to present me with the fishing vest.  I was totally elated!  However, I told him he didn’t have to, and to put it back and get something he wanted.  He shrugged his shoulders and said, “Na it’s ok.”  Thanks Kyle!  You are too sweet!  I appreciate you thinking of me.

While writing this post I heard Kyle relive his catches from the previous day with my mom, who didn’t make it up until after the start of the fishing.  He said, “It was good teamwork on both parts… the fish jumping up in the air and catching my line and me reeling them in.”  Too much!  Dad was getting a kick out of Kyle’s fishing experience.

I’m glad it was such a fun and relaxing day for everyone.  Again a special thanks to Cindy and Dave Planinsek for really being the heart and soul behind the Fishing Derby and continuing the tradition!

See everyone next year!

Below is a video of Ken Planinsek going through the family tree and giving a brief history of the Planinsek Pavilion and the Fishing Derby.  Enjoy!

http://youtu.be/3kQbCeoSfSc

You never realize how much of your background is sewn into the lining of your clothes.  ~Tom Wolfe

My cousin Stacey Olczak. She won the 1995 Louis Planinsek Fishing Derby!

Another Mother’s Day is upon us and that means the Annual Louis Planinsek Fishing Derby!  The 25th Annual Louis Planinsek Fishing Derby to be exact.

Participating in this event year-over-over, I take it for granted.  But it does take a lot of work and effort to organize this tradition.

About this time last year, I was curious with respect to the origins of this family fun event.  “How did it start?” and “Who started it?”

Since the Fishing Derby is now a quarter of a century old, and I’m a little bit older than that, it doesn’t take a mathematician to realize I was indeed around for the event’s inception.  However, that was twenty-five years ago when I was entering my teenage years and doing my own thing.  Kyle’s age now.

So what DO I know?  I know my cousin Casey Olczak (Kyle’s godfather) won the very first Fishing Derby and my brother, (Kyle’s dad) attended the weekend fun when he was younger.  Aside from that, I don’t know much about the origin of the Louis Planinsek Fishing Derby or who’s idea sparked a tradition that is going strong today, and by the grace of God will continue to do so.

For these details, I reached out to my good friend, Nina Enfinger, former Planinsek, a pretty solid source to satisfy my curiosity!

On a side note, with this blog I not only record life events and lessons learned for Kyle to read at a later date, but I also try to anticipate future questions and clarify details, so Kyle has a strong understanding of his past and his true family and friends.  It occurred to me, he might want to know about the Fishing Derby, like myself.

From what I’ve been told, Dave Planinsek started this Mother’s Day tradition after attending a similar event.  He saw how much fun those kids had and how everyone enjoyed themselves.  Take that idea along with a place to have the Fishing Derby, the Planinsek Pavilion, then a seemingly simply tradition was created.  The Louis Planinsek Fishing Derby, named after his dad.

Dave Planinsek going over the rules before blowing the bugle to start the fishing Derby. 2012

The Fishing Derby always starts on the Friday night before Mother’s Day, pitching the tents, a big bonfire, plenty of food, and a bunch of kids running around playing tag, dodge ball or whatever else they dream up.  It’s five dollars to purchase a ticket to the Fishing Derby and everyone brings a covered dish.  There’s always homemade popcorn made on the fire and the raffling of donated items begins.  The adults eat and drink and shoot the breeze until late into the night before retiring to their tents or for the less die hard, to their nice warm beds to only start again the next morning.

Saturday starts fresh at around 6:00 am or so, with the smell of breakfast cooking over the fire, typically scrambled eggs, bacon, pancakes and french toast.   Someone always brings fresh doughnuts and fruit, plus the assortment of homemade covered dishes from the night before and new ones appearing throughout the day.

Planinsek’s lined up, celebrating the 18th Annual Louise Planinsek Fishing Derby. (top row) Jimmy Singer, Sean Michael Lynch, Patrick Lynch, Amelia Enfinger, Jenny Singer, Rachel Campbell, Dave (Boo) Planinsek.  (bottom row) Jacob Singer, Lizzie Planinsek, Will Enfinger, Lexie Planinsek & Natalie Rodgers  5/13/07

From early in the morning till right before the bugle is blown, (yes they actually have a horn they blow!) all participants set up their chairs and fishing gear around the pond.  The derby starts at 9:00 am after the acknowledgments are announced, thanking those who helped out or assisted in some way to make the day a success.

Now let’s not get silly, the area isn’t set up ready on command and the pond isn’t stocked by chance.  The Planinsek’s really do a lot of leg work to get this event together.  Family and friends help clean up the Pavilion beforehand by stacking firewood and stocking the pond.  This usually takes place a few weeks before the Fishing Derby.  Like I’ve said, this is a well planned and much anticipated activity every year.

Congratulations Emma Jackman! She won the 2010 Louise Planinsek Fishing Derby

Let’s not forget, all the leg work to gather the donated gifts and gift baskets for the raffles, purchasing the toys for the kid’s raffle, getting the breakfast food, the paper utensils, the signage, and I’m sure there is a lot more that are hidden behind the scenes that doesn’t even scratch the surface.  Not to lessen any efforts from anyone, but I was informed that Cindy Planinsek is responsible for a majority of this pre-planning work.  Thanks Cindy!

At this time, after acknowledgments, they also recognize friends and family who have moved on in life, giving a moment of silence.  Then the rules are recited and the derby is ready to begin.

Forgive me for butchering anything up or missing any key parts, but it’s pretty straight forward and simple.  All participants must be 16 years of age and younger.  Since it’s a small pond, with an army of little ones who may not have the best casting skills, the adults can help the child cast.  This makes sense since the adults are the ones who have to untangle lines, remove bobbers and hooks from tree branches and help bait the hooks.  All participants need to reel in their catch, while usually the adult waits with a net to again assist.  No adult can be caught with a fishing pole without being accompanied by a child!

The goal is to catch the largest rainbow trout.  There are also additional prizes for the largest Palomino and other species.  But the coveted trophy and the honor of having his or her name recorded in the books is strictly for the trout.  Naturally, all the fish can be caught and kept for frying up or released to be caught again.

Over the years, I’ve heard stories upon stories of tales from Fishing Derby’s past.  It’s so much fun to hear all the tall tales while sitting around a campfire.

Mick, Lexis, Lizzie, Wendy Planinsek.  Lexie Planinsek won the 2010 Fishing Derby!

One story, they do share right before the kids cast their first lines of the day, more to demonstrate safety and being aware of ones surroundings, is the face hook story.  This story really makes you think before you cast your line!

As you might have guessed it involves a hook and a face.  About forty some years ago Dave Planinsek hooked his Aunt Sally in the cheek or the nose or some facial feature with a fishing hook while he was casting his line.  Ouch!  Can you imagine having a fishing hook in the face?  Can you imagine being the one who did it?  I’ve caught my own fingers, but that’s pretty serious!

Now the activities vary from year-to-year, but the theme remains the same.  In addition to fishing, which is the heart and soul of the day, Mick Planinsek usually gives hay rides and the kids always get a mean game of dodge ball going.

With twenty-five years worth of history, I can’t outline all the winners but here are the recent few.  A few years ago Joshua Enfinger (Nina’s son) won with a twenty-four and half inch rainbow trout.  The year after Lexie Planinsek (Mick’s daughter) won (not sure of the size).  Our last year’s champion, Ryan Hiles won with a twenty-three inch rainbow trout.  Each year it seems like new records are broken, but the fun always remains the same.  Winners have gone from seven and eight years old to sixteen, the maximum age for the participants.  There’s a huge age span, so it’s anyone’s trophy.

The Planinsek family is a great group of people, a truly sincere hardworking dedicated fun bunch.  They are responsible for creating the memories that last eternity.  Thanks so much!  Happy fishing!

God shows to men, in a vivid way, His presence and His face in the lives of those companions of ours in the human condition who are more perfectly transformed in the image of Christ. He speaks to us in them and offers us a sign of this kingdom to which we are powerfully attracted, so great a cloud of witnesses is there given and such a witness to the truth of the Gospel. It is not merely by the title of example that we cherish the memory of those in heaven; we seek rather that by this devotion to the exercise of fraternal charity the union of the whole Church in the Spirit may be strengthened.  ~  Vatican II  (Lumen Gentium No. 50)

Saint Francis & Saint Clare a Fresco by Giotto di Bondone 1279-1300

With the dual canonization of Pope John XXIII and Pope John Paul II, Pope & Saints it got me thinking, ‘How exactly does one become a saint?’, not that I am in the running for that honor, and certainly not a candidate, but merely an interested party.

With my roots strongly planted in the Catholic faith, (I’m no expert on religion nor am I the poster child for a perfect Catholic specimen)  I know some popular qualifications, but never the entire process.  The canonization of these Popes two Sunday’s ago sparked my curiosity.

Over the years, I’ve had others ask me the very same thing.  Ashamed, I did not know the entire answer, I thought it was about time I did.  Through a little bit of reading and reviewing, this is what I’ve found.  Exactly how true it is, I’m not really sure, but some of my sources are legit and some of it sounds familiar, like it has been taught to me before.

Apparently, the process of canonization was established in 1234 by Pope Gregory IX.  Prior to that time, saints were honored upon their deathbeds, usually due to martyrdom.  Over the years, since some were falsely honored with the prestigious title of saint, but did not quite live up to the standards and were only done so through hearsay and legend, a standard process needed to be established.  Way to to Pope Gregory IX!  I couldn’t agree more.

This process has been followed and refined year after year.  It starts with the candidate for saint who dies with “fame of sanctity” or “fame of martyrdom.”, which is not gender specific.  The Bishop of the Diocese initiates an investigation to find one piece of any special favor or miracle granted through the potential saint’s actions.  Basically, did divine intervention happen for all to witness through the prayers and direct actions of this person.

Yes, the Catholic church does a real uncovering of the life and good works accomplished by said candidate.  There needs to be proof in the pudding so to speak.  This also includes any writings and teachings from this potential saint.  They are looking for “purity of doctrine”, to ensure the faith was upheld and not bastardized or disregarded in any way.  This does not include the entire life of the candidate.  Believe it or not, some saints began their roots in the not-so-pure of heart.  Of course we are all human and sinners alike, even saintly figures, but sometimes a life fell more on the impure side.  However, during the saint’s conversion, the church is looking to see if they upheld the teachings and the faith.  It’s true, some canonized saints’ backgrounds were not holy, yet along their journey they answered God and chose a different path to follow, never to return to their unholy beginnings.

All this information that is required and collected, is appropriately and faithfully recorded and placed in a formal document to be submitted to the Congregation for the Causes of the Saints.

The Congregation for the Causes of the Saints, formally known as the Congregation of Rites manages and monitors the entire process.  Thanks to Pope Sixtus V, in 1588, he gave this duty to this organization and it has remained in its jurisdiction since.

The Story of St. Nicholas: The Story of the Saint done in tempera & gold on panel by Fra Angelico 1447-48

However, this is all just preliminary work.  The Congregation needs to accept this candidate as worthy to continue the investigation proceedings.  If the hopeful saint is worthy, now the nature of his or her death is fully uncovered.  If that person died a martyr, then it has to be determined the true intentions of his or her death.  Did they die for the love of Christ and the church?  Was there evidence of a life of self sacrifice and complete dedication and servitude toward God?  Did they live an extraordinary life of walking with Christ?  Did they serve the community gallantly and wholeheartedly with high moral standards, leading by example for the sake of God and not ones own personal gain?

Believe it or not, these actions are scrutinized and picked apart to raise doubts and criticisms.  The Congregation takes this potential saint and places them under the microscope, picking apart their every action.  Then, they find the answers to justify the proposed saint’s intentions, answering all skepticism and apprehension to possibly declare this candidate as Venerable.

Moving onto the next step, Beatification.  Mother Teresa is in this stage currently.  “A martyr may be beatified and declared “Blessed” by virtue of martyrdom itself.” or the candidate needs to have performed or be associated with a miracle.  There is two ways of looking at this, either God, Himself performed the miracle or He used the blessed one to intervene on His behalf.  Big difference and that’s what the Congregation tries to uncover.

Once the candidate is Beatified, yet another miracle needs to be proven to complete the final process.  Sometimes this could take years upon years, hence why the process is so long.  I would think it’s easier to prove actions rather than the true intent of the person at the focus of the investigation.  Actions do speak louder than words, yet intentions are the heart and soul of the matter.  Sometimes the miracle could also takes years to reveal itself.

Miracles could take on many different forms.  It could be something as jaw dropping like Saint Alphonsus Liguori who would levitate when preaching at Foggia; or Saint Francis of Assisi who suffered from the stigmata.  Those are extremes, however they don’t have to be.  Sometimes miracles could be modest and almost over looked like with Saint Edith/Teresa Benedicta.  She interceded for a little girl who almost died from a Tylenol overdose some forty years after Saint Edith’s death.  Again this is why a very detailed investigation takes place with each potential saint, and that’s also why there are so many steps and protocol to follow in this process.

Another question that popped into my head, ‘Can a non-Catholic become a Saint?’  I found this excerpt:

But the fathers of the Second Vatican Council in Lumen Gentium, the Dogmatic Constitution on the Church, (paragraph 16) admitted the possibility of extraordinary grace when they noted that “Those who, through no fault of their own, do not know the Gospel of Christ or his Church, but who nevertheless seek God with a sincere heart, and, moved by grace, try in their actions to do his will as they know it through the dictates of their conscience – those too may achieve eternal salvation.” This principle can also be found in the Catechism of the Catholic Church, no. 847.

My old CCD Teacher once said, there are people who do not attend mass, they may not even really know a lot about religion or God, yet they have an innate grace and Godly presence about them.  They are truly good people and lead by example, even though they don’t know it.  I believe that!  For the opposite can be said.  There are those who attend church regularly, read the bible and so on and so forth, yet are shortsighted by their arrogance or righteousness and holier-than-thou attitude.  Going to church doesn’t make you holy, it’s whats in your heart and your intentions that do.

Receiving the Stigmata done in tempera on wood by Fra Angelico 1429

Those declared as Saints seemed to cover all bases, humility and charity and a deep understanding of the faith and a personal friendship with the Lord.

On a side note, I want to debunk a misleading idea perceived about the Catholic church.  We do NOT pray to saints.  That would be worshiping a false god, breaking one of the top three commandments.  Nope, we pray for the saint to intercede on our behalf.  We ask the saints to pray for us, a tour guide if you will, leading us in the right direction and putting in a good word.  Personally, I think the saints have more pull with God Almighty.  It’s no different than asking a friend or a relative to pray for you.  Usually we select a specific saint that focuses on a certain area of interest, i.e. Our Lady of Guadalupe (honored on my birthday) is the patron saint of the Americas / Mexico and Saint Nicholas (Kyle’s confirmation Saint) is the patron saint of children.

Another item for the checklist in the canonization process, is what I call the death test.  When exhuming a body of the potential saint, it is found free of rot and decay.  No composition has taken place like any other normal body.  The corpse is usually still juicy and almost preserved.  Believe it or not the body has a sweet fragrant smell, not one of decaying corpse.  I also read about the liquefaction process, whereas the dried blood liquefies on the feast day.  This was new information to me, but I have heard of the host bleeding during the Eucharist prayer during mass.

I think this process is needed and, yes I do believe there are those that should be honored on a high esteem of sainthood.  They earned that title for their dedication to God on a different level then I could ever fathom.

Sources

http://www.catholiceducation.org/articles/religion/re0136.html

Saunders, Rev. William. “The Process of Becoming a Saint.” Arlington Catholic Herald.

http://bustedhalo.com/questionbox/are-there-any-non-catholics-that-the-church-recognizes-as-saints

Catechism of the Catholic Church

http://www.dummies.com/how-to/content/how-to-become-a-saint-in-the-catholic-church.html

There is no duty we so much underrate as the duty of being happy. By being happy we sow anonymous benefits upon the world.  ~Robert Louis Stevenson

Kyle with a goat at the auction in Maryland. 2014

Last Saturday dad asked for assistance in getting the garden ready to plant.  What needed done?  He wanted to add sand to loosen the soil, peat moss and yes manure.  Cow manure to be exact.  Our garden isn’t exactly a small rinky dinky plot of land and yet it’s not an acre large area either.  It’s a relatively nice size roughly twenty-five feet by fifty feet garden.

Naturally, we expected Kyle to help gather the material required for good soil and spread the ingredients on the ground before my cousin Jim plowed it to mix it all together.

Was my almost thirteen year old excited to participate?  Nope!  Was my little man helpful?  Kind of!  Does Kyle need the exercise and the work ethic?  You bet!

Lately, Kyle has been a bit “lippy” with us and sporting an attitude.  Yes, I am well aware he is nearly in his teenage years, but it’s still not right.  Especially for Kyle to give his pappy such a hard time.  He does so much for that kid, going above and beyond.  Come on, it’s not like we were asking him to run a marathon.  We just wanted a little bit of good old fashion hard work and nice family time together.  Win win in my opinion.

Great fall day on the ridge. Uncle Walter’s field to the right. 2013

After the feet dragging and moaning to get dressed and out the door, we started to have a nice time running around to the different lawn care stores, picking up things here and there.  Dad has a one ton dump truck we road around in, squeezed in the front seat.  It was never a dull moment and I thought we might just have a nice time finishing up our tasks.  I was wrong.

On a side note, while getting the sand at the Kingston Supply Company, dad spotted this little forklift for sale.  It reminded me of Guido and Luigi from the movie Cars.  “I’d like to have that!” dad blurts out.  Kyle and me bust out laughing picturing dad driving that little forklift around for no reason.

Kyle asked me to stop so he could get a picture of the sun shining through the trees. I took the opportunity to snap a picture of him getting a picture. 2012

Once we got back to the house and started to unload everything, Kyle started his whining and complaining.  Just like he does before our hikes.  You have to fight with him and push him in a direction before he comes around.  Personally, I hate arguing with the kid, but insisting he gets some exercise by doing real work and spending quality time with the family and learning how to farm are all good enough reasons to push back when he starts his crap.  That’s how much I truly care for Kyle, I’m willing to get a headache for his own good.

What did he do?  The usual.  He didn’t want to walk the few yards to the garden.  He didn’t want to help shovel the sand.  He didn’t want to help spread the peat moss.  Then, when he did help with the peat moss, he spread the material in the most inefficient and slowest moving method known to man.  That’s Kyle’s way of being difficult.  He knows very well it drives me crazy and ticks me off.  Yet, I tried to hold my cool, well after I had to yell a number of times for him to do something.  It just isn’t right, here is my nephew who is three months shy from turning thirteen, having my dad who is in his sixties do most of the work and the heavy lifting.  Not to mention me, who is also out performing the kid.  Not right!  He needs to step it up.  His dad, Ryan was not like that at all!  He was a really hard worker, from at least the age of nine, he was working in the sawmill.  I guess that’s another story.

Perfect fall day at mom & dad’s. 2013

On another side note, that Sunday we stopped out to a friend of dad’s.  He owns a farm.  The perfect place to load up the truck with fresh wet ripe cow manure for the garden.  We got into talking to Dwayne and offered Kyle’s services for any work needed on the farm, free of charge of course.  Dad and I both agree Kyle needs to learn to work, or he’ll never appreciate anything.  Dwayne couldn’t have agreed more.

Believe it or not, once we worked Kyle a little, just enough to get his blood pumping, his attitude changed.  Then he even surprised me.  Once finished, we both headed back down to the house.  Kyle actually grabbed his kite mom got him for Easter and began to put it together to take outside.  What?  He didn’t just jump on his computer and play games or flop himself down on the couch in front of the television?  Nope!  It was a beautiful sunny day and Kyle must have felt good and wanted to fly his kite.

Seven & Scooby running free in the field… enjoying the fall day. 2013

On the third side note, when Kyle was a little tyke of about three or four, I took him out in my parent’s front yard to fly a kite he received for Easter.  Always carrying on the family traditions!  At the time, we had Jake’s (Ryan’s beagle) wire run strung up across the yard.  The kite slipped out of my hands and was captured by the wire run to loosely remain there with the wind whipping around it.  Quickly, I grabbed a chair to give me some height so I could retrieve our entertainment.  Kyle was so stressed out, he ran in the house, woke up my dad who was napping, to blurt out, “Pappy, quick!  It’s Aiya.  Quick pappy she needs help!”  Poor dad probably thought something happened to me.  Just then pap surfaced on the front porch to see me reaching for the kite.  Kyle was below my feet, trying to push me up.  It was so stinking cute!  He was trying to lift me up by my ankles.  Dad and I got a kick out of him!

For this past Easter, Mom got Kyle two kites.  So I joined him in the kite flying fun.  We all stayed outside in the perfect sunny mild temperature day and watched the multicolored birds (that’s what the pictures were on the plastic kites) sore through the air.  We were out for hours.  In fact, I had to go inside before getting a sunburn and Kyle continued guiding his kite to the sky.  That is until it landed in a tree and broke free from Kyle’s string.  Who cares.  The kid was having a blast being outside and enjoying nature and spending time with the family without distractions and the toxins of electronics clouding his brain.  His muscles were moving and I’m guessing releasing endorphins.

He was so mild tempered when he eventually came inside, he was the good kid I knew he could be.  In fact, Kyle reached for his Guardians of Ga’Hoole books and began reading!  It’s true, he loves to read, but he actually gave up playing Minecraft to read on a Saturday afternoon with me saying a word.  I was so happy for him!

So when in doubt.  Go fly a kite!  It will make your day.

There is a sacredness in tears….They are the messengers of overwhelming grief, of deep contrition and of unspeakable love.  ~Washington Irving

Storm sleeping… not very ladylike. c. 2012

This story is no fun to tell and was certainly no fun to live through, however I want to share my tale to stop this situation from happening to another.  What happened?  I nearly killed my cat by mistake.

Accident or not, the results ended the same, with a near fatal blow to Storm, my cat a.k.a. Lady Fluffington.  First let me explain, Storm is a three year old short hair weighing in around nine pounds.  Our Labradors top the scales at around eighty to ninety pounds each.  Clearly they are in the extra large category, while Storm falls in the small or extra small category.

Let me explain the details leading up to this near fatal error, if for anything else to give myself a little leeway.  I have been sick off and on for nearly two months now.  I’ve had everything from bronchitis to sinus infects to tonsillitis, very unlike me.  For the past couple weeks, I was suffering from this really annoying cough.  The kind that hits you out of nowhere and you can’t stop coughing, especially in the middle of the night.  Needless to say, I’ve been pretty sleep deprived.  Last Tuesday, I woke up, from a not so good night sleep, very groggy and with a new surprise.  I opened my eye, yes only one eye because the other was swollen and infected with conjunctivitis.  Yes, in layman’s terms, pink eye.  Fortunately, I am now on the road to recovery, but not before I took Storm down with my sinking ship.

Continuing with the last Tuesday thought, I wanted to give the dogs and the cat their flea medication.  The weather is breaking and I didn’t want our pets to start off the summer with fleas and ticks.  Knowing the dog flea medication is lethal to cats, I always give Storm her dose in the morning, along with the boys, and let her out for a walk about, keeping her away until the medication soaks up in Scooby and Seven.

How Storm got up on the deer head is beyond me. Dad would not be happy to see this, especially when I caught her gnawing on the horns c. 2013

A pretty solid plan.  That is, if done correctly.  I was half paying attention and took Storm outside and applied the flea medication to her neck.  As I was doing so, I noted there seemed to be extra flea medication in the tube.  At that moment, Storm jumped out of my hands, no doubt angry about the application and ran off.  My gut was telling me something was wrong, so I grabbed the wrapper and read, For Extra Large Dogs over 55 pounds.  Do Not Use On Cats.  What?  I messed up big time!

Actually, at first I thought I read it was for puppies under 55 pounds.  I had to look again to see correctly, that’s how out of it I was.  Upon this realization, my heart began to race and pure panic settled in.

I took off after Storm.  I didn’t want her to get too far in the woods or I would never see her again.  Naturally, she didn’t want held, so she sent me on a chase through thorn bushes, down into a creek and into my uncles field before I tackled her.

Running as fast as I could, I darted back to the house and nearly threw her in the sink and instinctively ran water over her fur, specifically the area with the flea and tick treatment.  Using Dawn dish soap, I began to scrub a very confused and stressed cat.  Trying to avoid her angry claws against my soft wet skin, I did the best I could before wrapping her in a towel and jumping on the computer.

Storm relaxing in my lap while we watch Elementary c. 2012

Advantage II is made by Bayer.  I looked up the company and called their pet line.  Yes, they actually have a pet emergency line, obviously for careless individuals like myself.  Jessica administered to my call.  She was so sincere and helpful even at the point when my sobs caught up to me, and the tears were uncontrollable.  I felt horrible!  The entire time, Storm is soaking wet in my arms, ticked off.  I didn’t want to let her out of my sight until I knew she was safe.

The time frame, from applying the drug till I was able to give Storm her first bath was almost an hour.

Jessica instructed me to give Storm another bath with Dawn, which I guess was the only thing I did right that morning.  My question, what was going to happen to her?  Was she going to die?  Apparently there is an ingredient, permethrin, in the dog flea medication that causes muscle tremors and seizures and yes it could be fatal.  There is also no anti-drug.  It just needs to work its way out of the cat’s system.  However, I was instructed to take her to the veterinarian if the tremors got really bad.

To play it safe, I called the veterinarian’s office to warn them of the events from the morning, just in case.   The vet’s office told me to bath her again.  At this point, I did let Storm go off on her own in the confines of the house.  I kept running back to check on her after scrubbing her up again.

Now about two hours from the point of conflict, Storm was having trouble jumping on the chair and her face started to twitch.  Crap!

Calling the vet’s office again, they said they only had an opening at 1:45 pm.  It was roughly 10:00 am.  Ok, I’ll take the appointment.  However, no more than thirty minutes later, Storm really started to shake all over and convulse in complete spasms.  I called the vet’s office again to get her in now.  With a little bit of an attitude from the one girl at the front desk, she said, “Well, we’re really busy.  You can bring her in now but you’ll probably have to wait.”  There were a few choice words I wanted to say to her, but I didn’t want to waste my energy arguing.  I needed to get this cat some medical attention.

Storm getting rest after coming out of the ICU. See her front paw was shaved for the IV. 4/23/14

The ride to the vet only takes about ten minuets.  In that time Storm really got bad!  She started to spit and then it happened, she had a full blown seizure in my arms!  What have I done?  I sped into the parking lot and ran into the office, again with eyes full of tears to only hear the one girl, behind the wall spitting with sarcasm, “O no, you can come any time, it’s not like we have appointments.”  Believe it or not, if Storm wasn’t about to have another seizure, I would have reached around the corner and grabbed her by the throat.  That was just plain wrong and she said those harsh words so I would hear her.  Didn’t anyone ever hear of an emergency?

Telling my parents about this later, my mom commented how strange that was since they are all normally very nice.  I guess not in an emergency situation when I move their cheese.

The vet, Doctor Ben, was absolutely amazing and kind.  He squeezed Storm in shortly after I arrived and explained everything to me with the blunt truth.  He didn’t want to get my hopes up for a positive or speedy recovery.  I appreciated that!

Dr. Ben took Storm for the day and gave her an IV to avoid dehydration and administered muscle relaxers to make her a bit more comfortable.  They had to watch her temperature so she didn’t spike a fever and monitor her sugar so it didn’t drop.  He also made the time in his busy schedule to have someone give Storm another bath, again trying to scrub the toxins off of her skin and out of her fur.  He even suggested that I call in the office at any time to check on Storm’s progress.

About 1:30 pm, Dr. Ben personally called me to give me an update.  Upon hearing, “Honestly, she’s getting worse.” I about died!  Trying to focus on Dr. Ben’s words, I held back my tears.  The plan of action was to keep Storm until right before they were to leave for the night at about 6:45 pm.  He would wait till the last minute to pull the IV and give her another dose of muscle relaxers to help her through till the next morning.

Dr. Ben reviewed how to take Storm’s temperature and what it should range.  He even prepared me for her appearance before he had her brought out.  Updating me on her progress during the day, he said Storm did spike a fever at one point but her sugar never dropped.  He wasn’t sure, but felt certain she might make a full recovery.  However, I was instructed to bring her in right away the next morning  if she looked the same.  Poor Storm, her entire body was shaking like she had Parkinson’s disease.

That night was a tough one, but as the hours went by, she slowly started to show signs of recovery.  Slowly might I add.  I was warned by Dr. Ben, who also called another doctor for a second opinion, and Jessica at Bayer all agreed that it would take anywhere from 24 hours to 48 hours to work its way out of my cat’s system.

An example of the cat’s reaction to the flea medication, which was totally heartbreaking to watch,  Storm’s leg involuntarily curled up under her and she fell over.  Then to hear her cry out in pain was nauseating.  There was a time Storm started to hiss and growl before a spasm hit.  She was in serious pain.

By daylight, Dr. Ben again personally called me to check on Storm and reassure me if I needed to bring her back in the office, just stop in.  Too bad his front desk girl didn’t have the same heart for this poor little kitty.

Throughout this process I kept petting Storm and massaging her muscles, which seemed to help.  Her body was still in spasms into Thursday, now two days later and twitching into Friday.

What a horrible ordeal.  I hope no one and no cat ever has to go through this.

Using my error as a learning lesson for Kyle, I told him the story when I picked him up last Friday.  I wanted to show Kyle that mistakes happen, but sometimes they are fatal and irreversible.  I’m not so sure that actually got across to my little immature man.  For some reason, probably sheer exhaustion, as I was telling Kyle the story, we both got the giggles.  Maybe I shouldn’t have demonstrated how Storm stiffened up in the car.  I didn’t mean for it to come out humorous, but there we were.  Poor Storm, laughing at her own expense.  Honestly, it was something I truly needed.  Kyle was concerned for our little kitty, but again, maturity runs lows in the Piper family and knowing Storm was fine, opened the doors for laughter.

Another funny, on Wednesday or Thursday, I received an email birthday card for Storm, marking her third birthday.  I nearly killed my cat on her birthday!

Another comical situation.  While Storm was making her recovery, I locked us in the bedroom, so she wouldn’t jump up on something, spasm and fall to the ground and get hurt.  Well, naturally she wanted out, even though the cramps were prominent and severe.  She was scratching at the door and meowing loudly under the crack to Seven, who was sniffing on the other side.  It was like she was calling out to him for help.  Just then, a stray cat from the neighborhood sat on the window seal outside and started to meow with a distressed sound.  Did Storm send out the bat signal to break her out of her temporary prison?

I’m glad I can breath a sigh of relief over what could have been a tragedy.

Thank you Jessica at Bayer and thank you Dr. Ben at Latrobe Animal Clinic.  Your support and guidance was very much appreciated!  I can not speak highly enough for both parties.  Storm thanks you too!

Here are a few clips I pulled of a healthy Storm.  She has this weird obsession with wool and any article of clothing containing the material.  I caught Storm trying to steal my sweater!

I heard a noise to find my cat pawing at the tub.  Why?  Who knows but she seemed to be enjoying herself.

Aragorn: Gimli, lower your axe.
Legolas: They have feelings, my friend. The elves began it, waking up the trees, teaching them to speak.
Gimli: Talking trees. What do trees have to talk about, hmm… except the consistency of squirrel droppings?  ~Lord of the Rings J.R.R. Tolkien

Kyle going through is basket, Easter morning…. Scooby helping. Keeping tradition with the books & kite! 4/20/14

Being sick now for weeks, I am finally on the road to recovery, even though these rainy windy days like today, make it hard to get out of bed, sick or not.  Recently, I was thinking back to what had happened over the last several weeks, while I was under the weather.  Actually, a lot went on.  Over the next few days, I will start to document the stories.

Sunday, April 20th was Easter!  A day I slept most of the daylight hours.  I did get to play Kyle at Quarto, a strategy game I purchased for him for Easter from a store in the Mall of America in Minnesota.  Naturally, Kyle won the first game.  I truly thought I had this game in the bag, but alas I was proven wrong again by a twelve year old.

On Saturday, however, it was a beautiful sunny day and I was feeling well enough to help dad in the yard.

The event of planting trees actually started way back in December over Christmas.  We purchased Chestnut trees for dad and had them mailed this spring.  Perfect Gift -  Chestnut Trees  Guess what?  They came in!  Boy was dad elated! He was looking forward to this day since he heard about his perfect gift.

What really makes these trees significant to plant around Easter, is that the orchard was always a big part of our Easter celebration.  Every year since Kyle was a wee one, we would fill multi-colored plastic eggs with money and candy and hide them around the orchard.  Yes mom and I would go out in the middle of the night after Kyle went to bed, usually late, and hide the eggs with the help of flashlights.  Then, it never failed, Kyle would wake up at 3:00 am, sometimes 4:00 am and want to go out and hunt Easter eggs left by the Easter bunny.  Even though the rest of the family remained in bed, I always got up with him, wrapped a blanket around me, slipped on my rubber boots, grabbed the flashlight and trotted out to the backyard.

Kyle always had a blast!  It was nice seeing the kid so excited in the morning, even though it was usually so dark it was hard to see him at all.  My job, was to count the findings to make sure no egg was left behind.  Although, it never failed, while mowing in the spring we would always find an egg or two.  I guess I didn’t do such a great job at counting.

This year that tradition didn’t take place, since Kyle is nearly thirteen, but it didn’t mean we couldn’t go outside and sit among our trees and freshly planted crops.

Seven in front, Scooby behind him, Avery to the right, Gigi, & Aunt Nikki enjoying the shade while planting fruit trees. 4/19/14

That orchard holds a lot of memories, memories when Ryan was still with us.  Ryan helped to plant some of the original trees and he always mowed and weeded the area.  It was nice to have Kyle a part of that tradition and have his roots grow among the memories and stories of dad’s orchard.

When I say the family participated, I mean the entire family.  Nicole and Avery were home; the boys, Seven and Scooby; Storm and naturally the rest of us.  We all joined forces to plant the trees.  I couldn’t think of a better way to spend a pretty day, especially before Easter.

We dug up a couple of trees that had died over the years.  Dad was hoping each year would bring renewed life back into the brittle dead branches, but no such luck.  We pulled those out, believe it or not with the help of the pick-up truck.  Digging up the dirt around the roots to loosen the deceased cherry tree, dad wrapped a chain around the trunk and attached it to the truck, then gave it the gas.  With the help of Kyle and me loosening the dirt and pushing on the tree, the roots surfaced and we drug it to the burn pile, leaving a new hole for another life to flourish.

The day consisted of planting new trees, including finding a home for dad’s elephant ear tree and another chestnut tree.  There are about twenty fruit trees in dad’s orchard, ranging from paw paw to plum and peach and naturally apple.  He’s very proud of those trees and his blueberry bushes.

The weekend before Easter, I was in Minnesota for my good friend Davey’s wedding.  Congratulations Mr. & Mrs. Seminary  That’s when Kyle helped dad plant the original two Chestnut trees purchased over Christmas.  They also planted a couple of mulberry bushes and a mystery tree that lost its tag.

During the day of playing in the dirt and hauling saplings back and forth, Dad kept saying to Kyle and the inadvertently the rest of us, “When I kick off, now you can go out and have a piece of fruit and think of me.  You’ll always have food with these trees.”

He’s right, it is nice having fruit trees in the back yard.  I enjoy them too, not only for the fruit but also for shade and the beauty of the trees, but more importantly for the memories of planting the trees with the family and watching them grow.  Perhaps that is the most valuable part of dad’s orchard.

Kyle using the digging iron to open the hole where we pulled a dead fruit tree, to only replace it with another. Dad was supervising. 4/19/14

On a side note, during the day the neighbor boy Philip was out walking his dog Thor.  They stopped over to say hi and visit.  Avery was excited to see another dog, as was Seven.  Scooby on the other hand, had to be placed in dad’s truck for the duration of the visit, he’s not very nice.  We call him the enforcer or the grumpy old man.  While in the front seat of the truck, which he usually rides shotgun, no one would have thought Scooby, would do what he did.  He jumped out the window!  Yes!  He pulled an underdog and flew out the open window and charged Thor.  Dad broke up the little altercation without incident.

Personally, I stood in shock.  Our nonathletic, clunky and slow moving dog jumped out of a truck window, down on the side of a hill and was able to speed past us like the breeze.  Truly amazing!  I guess he meant business when he barked, ‘No one on our property’.

It was a great Easter weekend.  I continued the tradition mom started when we were kids by giving Kyle books in his Easter basket.  This year it was the rest of the Guardians of Ga’Hoole series by Kathryn Lasky.  Kyle started to read them and seemed to be enjoying the books, so I fueled his journey.  I love his love for reading!  Every chance I get, I reward him in books, and he’s excited about it!  Mom continued the tradition of receiving a kite, or two in Kyle’s case.

Can’t wait to enjoy the shade of our newly planted trees and pick the fruit they produce!  I was also told by Mr. Kyle that I would enjoy reading the Guardians of Ga’Hoole series and he wants me to read them too.  I guess I have a new series to start!

Happy Belated Easter!

We ought to fly away from earth to heaven as quickly as we can; and to fly away is to become like God, as far as this is possible; and to become like him is to become holy, just, and wise.  ~ Plato

The Crucifixion of Saint Peter by Caravaggio

Yesterday marked a truly blessed occasion.  Pope John Paul II and Pope John XXIII were canonized as saints.  This is the first time a dual canonization has ever taken place, with the presence of two Popes, another first.  Pope Francis declared the canonization in the Vatican City, in front of a million supporters with the company of Pope Benedict XVI.

In my short life alone, I have been honored to witness such acts of goodness from God’s chosen disciples.  It certainly helps me to continue my belief that people are innately good and the wrong in the world, however tragic and devastating it is, even though we seem to be consumed in its wake, is not prevailing over good, nor is it a commodity.  It’s actually very refreshing and reassuring to be reminded of true goodness since there seems to be such an influx of malignant spirits.

Now onto those who set an example of how to live and conduct life.  Please note, even popes are not perfect, not in the slightest.  We are all human with the ability of free will.  However, these saints have worked very hard to follow in the way of the Lord and set an example for all to join, going above and beyond.

(Obediencia et Pax – Obedient & Peace) Pope John XXIII, was successor to Saint Peter from 1958-1963.  What did he do exactly?  I was not around to see his works, only reading about this benevolent spirit.  He convened the Second Vatican Council in 1962.  This type of meeting should never be taken lightly, for it is rare collaboration of the worlds most influential and spiritual leaders and discussions are made on major issues, affecting the world’s spiritual guidance.  During such a time, Pope John XXIII helped to modernize our Mass by spreading the word of God in the local languages rather than the traditional Latin.  (Even though there is a push to bring back the Latin Mass, which is nice to keep traditions.)  He also encouraged and spearheaded discussions and interactions with those of other faiths, specifically Jews.  He was a sort of mediator.

Pope John Paul II – now officially a saint

(Totus Tuus – Totally Yours)  Pope John Paul II, the one I remember, was the second longest reining Bishop of Rome from 1978-2005. (26 years)  The longest was Pope Pius IX, 31 years.  He was also the first Polish Pope and the first non-Italian pontiff in four hundred years.  As per my mom, who is half Polish, she said her grandmother would have loved to see the day we had a Polish Pope.  We did!  And a fine one he was!

Pope John Paul II ventured out in the world were no Pope had been present.  He too, like Pope John XXIII opened communication with different faiths including the Protestant and Orthodox denominations.  Living through the Nazi invasion of Poland, Pope John Paul II spoke out heavily against war, economic injustice and political oppression by helping to overturn communism through his support of Poland’s Solidarity movement.

Pope John Paul II established the World Youth Days, bringing back a renewed interest in the Catholic Church.  However, he didn’t let his morals slip, but instead maintained the conservative church teachings, even after the morally loss and influence of the 1960′s.

The Second Vatican Council

He left us his legacy and spiritual enlightenment through a dozen encyclicals and many, many other documents.  Pope John Paul II also seemed to believe in the goodness of others, around him and before his time.  He beatified and canonized more than a thousand men and women from every aspect of life, including Mother Teresa.

My wish is that this act of canonization for both popes brings a renewed hope in the goodness of people and sets the example for the next generation.  It makes for a more positive day when we share in goodness rather than hate or wrong doing.  I am also praying for the canonization of Mother Teresa.  In my opinion one deserving of such a title.

God Speed Everyone!

All life demands struggle. Those who have everything given to them become lazy, selfish, and insensitive to the real values of life. The very striving and hard work that we so constantly try to avoid is the major building block in the person we are today.  ~Pope Paul VI

Our cousins, Casey holding Marla, Joel in the back, Michael & Elizabeth. Stacy has yet to come. c. 1986

Trying to teach Kyle that you don’t need money or the latest and greatest video games to have fun, is surprisingly a really hard lesson to teach.  At least with my little stubborn man.  I can’t say it enough, he is a good kid, a truly good hearted person, but he only sees playing and having fun as an activity that has been dictated by his generation of video games.  He is not accustomed to good old fashion playing outside, unless I demonstrate and participate of course.

This past weekend, Kyle wanted to play a game with me.  Great!  I suggested a game of chess.  Denied!  I suggested a game of Battle Ship.  Denied!  I suggested a game of Trouble (love that mindless game.  We used it to reach Kyle how to count when he was wee little.)  Denied!  He wanted to play a few games with me on the Wii.  Ok, I’ll give him that since we haven’t busted out the Wii for a while.  His compromise was to play the hunting games and the Wii Sports Resort (Swordplay, Fruit Ninja, Wakeboarding).  I wanted to dance to Micheal Jackson, denied!   I gave in and we played, having a pretty good time.  But after so long, I didn’t have the patience to sit in front of the television and play games anymore.  I would rather get up and move around.  Not Kyle, he wanted to continue for hours upon hours.  Denied!

I pretty much have to force Kyle to undertake any activity before he realizes he’s actually having fun or enjoying himself.  Time and time again this has happened.  Perfect example would include his perceived dreaded hikes with the dogs, which he does enjoy while on the hike.  Even after we come back from having a nice time, he still won’t admit to it.  I guess it’s not cool.

As kids we made up some pretty crazy games and undertook some unusual activities to keep ourselves entertained.  One of the stories I’ve shared with Kyle was the fort building.

Let me step back to state, I grew up with my brother and sister and my cousins around.  So there was never a shortage of kids to play with.  For Kyle, not so much.  I know that has a lot to do with the way he plays and his interests, but I do try as best I can.

Anyway, when we were kids, we used to chop down trees, yes with a hatchet, smaller trees, probably about six inches in diameter and stack them on top of each other to form a fort.  Yes, a real fort with four sides, nestled back in the woods.  We would play in and around this fort all day.

Near this location were these large vines that hung over a small creek.  We would take turns swinging back and forth on the natural ropes like Tarzan and Jane.  It was so much fun.  We did all this with our dog Jill hanging around, without parental supervision, while everyone was getting along and getting dirty and exercise.

Cousins playing at Twin Lakes for Lisa’s birthday. L to R Nicole, Tim, Lisa, Ryan, Casey, me, Elizabeth & Mikey behind trying to claim a spot on the swings. c. 1986

Let’s be realistic, I don’t really have a desire to build another fort anymore.  However, if Kyle really wanted to, I would, but since manual labor is not at the top of his list, we never relived those good old days.

Instead, dad decided he wants to raise chickens.  Apparently, I’m going to construct a chicken coop, correction, Kyle and me are going to build a chicken coop soon.  I guess that’s close enough to a fort.  At least he’s doing something productive, in real life.  I Need To Build My House – Video Games.

As far as the whole experience including the vine swinging goes, I’ve actually taken Kyle in the woods and we have done just that!  He even enjoyed himself!  Although for me it seemed more fun as a kid, but for Kyle, who is still a youngster, it was a new experience.  There is something about swinging past trees that is so relaxing and fun.

Now onto the gold.   Another quick story of how we used our imagination and every day items to create our own pastimes.

One day Ryan was tinkering around in the garage, yes I believe we were still in elementary school. He was always in that garage.  Anyway, he came running out yelling, “I’ve found gold!  I’ve found gold!” as he darted down the driveway toward my cousin Casey and Joel’s house.  What on earth?

Ryan found a can of gold spray paint and took some rocks and spray painted them.  They did look like nuggets of gold.  Yes we added that to the items we played with as kids, simple rocks.  We even fought over the rights to the “gold nuggets” and made up war games with the “gold” as the booty.

Really it shouldn’t take much to have an imagination and to be entertained.  At least not with us as kids.  We found fun in everyday life, with every day things, even rocks!

Read other related blogs

Playing As Kids – Tire Rolling
Playing As Kids – Chasing Cars