Tuesday, May 31, 2005 

10 ways the south can kill you.

10 Ways the south can kill you.

1. The heat. It is already in the mid 80s and it is not even June yet it will get up to 100 around June 15 and stay there till September.
2. The Humidity. 90% humidity is considered a dry day.
3. Mosquitoes… they crossbreed them with chickens to create killer mosquitoes. You can see clouds of them some days.
4. Transplanted Yankees. They come down here and drive slow in the fast lanes. I swear I got behind someone in the fast lane (left lane for those of you north of Huntsville) they were going 55 miles per hour traffic was backed up for 20 miles. The posted limit is 70 AAAGGGHHHH
5. Politics... Alabama politics can frustrate the life out of you. No one from the county dogcatcher to the governor his self has the intelligence to do his or her job in Alabama. If by some chance they do have a modicum of creativity they are quickly arrested for stealing from the taxpayers.
6. Good Food… The food here is laden with fat. Southern women love to add hog fat to all vegetables. Damn it taste good but it also will spackle your arteries shut.
7. Women… The women here are profoundly good looking. They cause teenaged boys to do increasingly stupid things to impress them. I once jumped off of a 40-foot bridge into a river to impress one, it did not work, she left unimpressed by my stupidity. I don’t know how that applies but thought it worth mentioning.
8. Kudzu… in the 40s and 50s some dim bulb brought this stuff into the states to use to feed cattle. I have a cousin who planted 50 acres of this stuff; it took him 10 years of constant effort to kill it. He died of prolonged exposure to herbicides.
9. Urban Sprawl… Anytime that a meadow or stand of trees begins to look picturesque. They solve this problem by putting a sub division on top of it. IT works too, several of the most beautiful meadows and forests have been successfully eradicated by only one application of sub division.
10. Fire ants. I hate fire ants.

Friday, May 27, 2005 


Thursday, May 26, 2005 

I started this list then got overwhelmed. Thought I would publish it
been out of town for a few days. I am back so prepare for the same low quality that this blog has built its reputation on.

Plans for summer

1. Finish chicken coop
2. Build chicken brooder
3. Buy chickens
4. Take family on vacation to state park of their choosing
5. Work in garden
6. Eradicate stumps left over from Ivan the terrible
7. Work on boat
8. Paint roof on dad’s workshop.
9. Start learning Latin
10. Take kids fishing
11. Sell house second house (anybody interested)
12. Go fishing by myself
13. Plant clover field at property in county
14. Build fence to house goats to eat grass in pasture that is getting out of hand.
15. Make one batch of wine.
16. Build fence for dog
17. Build barrier for Wife’s strawberry bed
18. Build barrier for grape fines and fill with pine bark.
19. Rent dump truck and tear down barn.
20. Start building archery range for kids.
21. Move shrubs to front yard
22. Enclose deck for parents.
23. Plant more blueberries
24. Move juvenile apple trees to pasture
25. Move rose bushes to fence line.
26. Build rabbit hutches
27. Buy rabbits
28. Build Compost bin for chicken and rabbit leavings
29. Install motion sensitive lights around chicken and rabbit houses
30. Install exhaust fan in workshop.
31. Start construction of kid’s clubhouse.Take a nap

Monday, May 23, 2005 

This is the requested before picture of Snagley.
As you can see not much work to be done.
already near perfection.
Snagley out.

Friday, May 20, 2005 

This is the boat that used to belong to my great uncle. this will be the before picture. I look forward to publishing the after picture. It aint much to look at. Have a good weekend.

Thursday, May 19, 2005 

I think the cats name is Jose

I got to missing my cat pics of old.
This cat deserves some recognition.
I am truley thankful I dont have to clean out that litter box.
My guess is she uses a shovel.

BO Snagley

Wednesday, May 18, 2005 

Where in the world is BO Snagley

Where in the world is BO Snagley.

I am on the very end of the ship.
can anyone guess where Bo Snagley is.
The winner recieves a years supply of linseed oil, and an omlett with salsa.
good luck

Tuesday, May 17, 2005 

Another view Snagley acres.
This has the corner of my garden plus my grapes and other assorted berries.
This is located about 75 yards from the house.
Behind this are the blue berries.
also I have pear trees, apple trees, and plum trees.
I will try to have an better post tomorrow I realize this is pretty weak.

Monday, May 16, 2005 

this is the long awaited chicken coop in all its spledor.
It remains unfinished. That is a fig tree in the background and my workshop at the left.
I guess I am an oficial bumkin now. I do not have the Nest boxes finished yet.

Friday, May 13, 2005 

Show and Tell

When I was in the 4th grade out teacher made us do show and tell. I hated such creations. It made me prove to the world that I was not only boring but boring. Our teacher Ms. Grendel was a rich woman from up north somewhere she spoke through her nose. We knew she was rich because she wore a different dress every day of the week. Mr. Tossle had worn the same suit to school for 14 years, rumor was when he finally retired his suit came to school and taught the shop class, most likely better than he did.

But I digress; I was one of the country kids. And I was poor. A bad combination when it comes to coming up with something for show and tell. All I could think of was bringing the family posthole digger. I would say “class this is my posthole digger, I dig post holes with it”. It would not be pretty. Boring is boring

Ms. Grendel asked for volunteers, all the rich city kids raised their hands. She chose a kid named Russell for the first Show and tell kid. He brought his stamp collection Ms. G. said oh Russell how educational. I could tell it was going to be bad. I asked my old buddy Todd what he thought. He said he did not know he was thinking of bringing the family post hold digger. Oh well so much for that idea.

Finally the class had dwindled through the city kids and no one was raising their hands. Fathead Murphy was selected. You will remember Fathead from a past non fiction of mine. We all waited with baited breath (tic-tacs) were not around back then) to see what Fathead would come up with. He walked in with an old cigar box Ms Grendel asked him to come up front. Fathead opened up the box and said
“This is my cigarette butt collection. I pick them up on the side of the road. I don’t keep none under 2 inches .I don’t smoke them I only collect them for educational purposes.”
Then he sat down.
Ms Grendel and the city kids stared in shocked silence but, all of us country kids cheered Fathead had showed us the way.

I was next. I brought my sun-dried frog. I showed it too the class and explained how a dump truck had run over it and it had dried in the sun, and told them how I got a pair of my Dads pliers and pealed it up off the road in front of the feed store. Veronica Brought a Chicken that had all of the feathers pecked off of it. It committed an indiscretion on Ms Grendel’s desk, which cut the class short for the day. I was beginning to enjoy school now. I looked forward to show and tell every day. Then Cathy brought to school a large box with holes cut in it. I heard Ms. Grendel say that she might discontinue show and tell but Cathy started to cry. She opened up the box and took out 5 week old kittens. They were cute. Todd began to panic he could think of nothing cute to bring to school. I suggested Henry. Todd agreed that sure Henry was cute all right but not cuter than baby cats. Todd said he would think of something.

The next day Ms. Grendel looked like a new woman the last show and tell ever. Todd stood up with a galvanized bucket. He introduced Henrietta the rat snake Ms. Grendel took a deep breath that moved the papers on her desk. And that’s not all he then reached into the bucket and brought out a mass of night crawlers and said with a flourish “these are her babies”.We never heard from Ms. Grendel again. Mom said she had no business teaching country kids. We heard she moved back up north, which was probably for the best. Oh well and I was just getting interested in school


I have been assigned the task of writing a user manual for our software package, fun fun. Have you ever written a user manual? It is a pain in the butt. I am now on page 387 no joke 387 and I figure I am 2/3 of the way through. I am profoundly past due on this project, which I am supposed to do as priority 3 beyond whatever dire emergences come up and beyond helping my staff, and beyond my normal work.

Now for the real post of the day. This one ain’t funny. It is a post I have been putting off. It is the story of my sister. Chuck asked me to do this once in the past so here it is.
My sister is 23 months younger than I am. I am 18 years younger than my oldest brother. I love my sister dearly. I was the typical older brother who picked on her excessively much to my shame. She on the other hand always managed to get me in trouble whether I deserved it or not. It was not until she was 16 and I 18 that we became good friends. I guess we grew up and started acting somewhat like adults.
Now the hard part to write.

When I was 4 or 5 I was molested by a family member. I barely remember it. But I do remember it. I have always remembered it. I think that is why I love children now, and am so protective of my family. I would without thought of consequence, pity, or remorse protect with terminal intensity any child at any time. No child should have to go through that, ever. One day my father came to me and said that my sister claimed to have been molested by that same family member. I was now 8. He wanted to know if I knew anything about it. I was too ashamed to say yes. I have regretted that for 29 long years. My sister was not believed. I have lived in AGONY since that day.

My parents should shoulder some blame. In their defense I know they were doing what they thought best. They never allowed her around that person again. They were raised in a different age I don’t expect you to understand but my sister and I were raised as children of the depression would have been raised.

My sister never dated much. In high school she dated a boy who was 4 years older. He broke her heart when she started college. He said he needed to play the field and did so in her face. After he graduated college he came to our house and asked her to move in with him, she had not spoken to him in months. She said no, and he left angry.

A few months latter my best friend asked her out. He was 12 years older that her. 3 months latter they married. I don’t know if she loved him but she saw this as an opportunity to move on with her life. She finished college and got a very good job. I was profoundly proud of her. I was a college dropout without much visible future and thought she was the most brilliant person in the world.

They then moved to New Orleans. I was sad about this. I lost my best friend my sister to another state. A year latter they divorced. She joined the Navy. This rocked my family. She stated that she left to be true to herself and to rid herself of a leach. He was not a good money manager and spent more than they both made. I was in the process of getting married; her husband was to be in my wedding. I was asked to uninvited him. I did, it was the hardest thing I had to do. My sister wanted to wait until after the wedding to announce their divorce but her husband wanted to use it for leverage and pity. The wedding was supposed to be about my fiancé and me, not clouded with their split.

After that my sister called me and apologized for the entire mess. She also confided in me that she was gay. Lets leave that for the next post I am finished for today.

Questions are welcome. I am viewing this as therapy.

Thursday, May 12, 2005 

So what is everyone doing this weekend.
I am planning on doing as little as possible.
I am going to take my wife to the Superior Grill and eat a steak called a crazy Javier
I also am planning to do some yard work, and clean out the workshop.
fun apleanty at the Snagley house.
My boy got a game boy and is suffering from game boy neck.
He keeps his neck bent over playing the game .
I plan to limit his game boy time so he will continue to be an outside playing boy.
He loves to climb trees.
I bought him a rope to clime this one tree. His hands are callosed from climbing the rope.
The doctor asked if we were working him in the fields or something.
He is freakishly strong because of his tree, and rope climbing.
Well I am at work and need to actually do some work today.
Snagley out.

Tuesday, May 10, 2005 

I bought some cheap sunglasses on ebay.
what do you think.

Also this is another ask Snagley post. I may have left some people hanging if you have a question, fire away.
Snagley out

Monday, May 09, 2005 

New old boat

I bought my Great Uncles boat yesterday

It is an old boat with a 1975 Johnson 25 hp outboard motor. I learned to fish in that boat. My Uncle John died years ago and it has sat in the weeds since. His Son my something cousin died recently and I bought the boat from his wife. If you saw the boat you would laugh, or you might not. It is aluminum a V-Hull sort of an all-purpose fishing boat. The wood floor had rotted out of it and the carpet was rotten, I ripped it all out. The motor looks good. I am one of those sentimental people. This boat means a lot to me.

I remember Uncle John taking me fishing when I was a child. No older than 8 and teaching me to fly fish. He was a patient man. I remember once his grandson and I went fishing with him. He got the two of us up before dark, prepared breakfast for the two of us, got us dressed and set about to ready the boat and getting a lunch ready for us. In the mean time my cousin and I set the water nozzle in such a way so that when he turned on the water he would be drenched to the skin, I was a rotten kid, this of course happened and while I would have snatched us bald, he laughed and went in to change clothes and go fishing.

I remember him taking me in this boat to fish. He kept any fish that was large enough to stretch its mouth over the barb of the hook. I remember seeing him deep fry a fish no larger than a silver dollar, and eat it whole fins bones and all. He believed to throw back a fish was wasteful. He was raised during the great depression. His attitude differs greatly from today’s anglers who are not concerned with their next meal.

He was a fun old man, he was crazy as well and you had to watch him, as he would take unnecessary risks in the pursuit of fish. He took my Dad fishing into the bayous of Louisiana and pointed the boat at a low lying branch containing a snake and told Dad to kill it with a paddle. This was in the 1950s.

In latter years he lived into the age that is unsafe to go fishing alone, but could not be stoped. He slipped away and piloted the boat into the tailraces of a hydroelectric dam. He was too close to the turbines, when they opened them, with his anchor down. He cut the rope with his filet knife and was tossed from the boat. The motor was running causing the boat to run in tight circles around him. He managed to grab the bow of the boat and thread his finger through a hole and hold on until someone came to rescue him. He was 67 years old then weighing around 265 about 6’4”. He was upset that he did not catch any fish that day.

When he died he left me his fly tying kit. I have used it to turn out a great number of flies. My 7 year old and my 5 year old both tie flies, as does my 3-year-old daughter with this same kit.

I will restore the boat to fishing shape and teach my sons and daughter to fish from it. Might take me 8 months to do it right.
After that, does anybody want to go fishing?

Thursday, May 05, 2005 

BENIGN I will be damned if that doesn't sound like music.
BENIGN I might change my name to that beautiful word. (Benign Snagley sounds weird though)
BENIGN In the original greek it means life is good again.
BENIGN I could not feel any better than I do right now.

thank you, thank you, thank you for your thoughts and prayers.

BO. Snagley


Ok here is what happened.
About a year ago my wife had some discomfort in her breast. She had a mammogram. It showed some calcifications. She was told this is normal have a nice day. When her doctor saw it she freaked and told her that due to the size and placement of this calcification that it needed to be investigated again in 6 months. In that time my wife lost some weight to make the mammogram more accurate. She had the mammogram yesterday and it had grown and spread, the radiologist said if my wife were his daughter or mother he would have her do a biopsy. The doctor concurred and chaos reigned.

To do the biopsy they take what amounts to a core sample of my wife’s breast. About the size of a target arrow, and about 6 inches long, she said it was not pleasant.

The results will come today at 4:45 or Friday sometime.

This is a royal pain in the hind end for my wife; I am a pretty tough guy in most respects except when it comes to her. I once punched a vendor for making an innuendo about her virtue. She is my soft underbelly. I do not allow my children to be rude to her. I do not allow profanity in her presence. I am old fashioned about the way a wife is to be treated. I try my best to be a man she can be proud of.
Having said that I fail constantly, that is the great thing about grace it don’t matter how many times I fail. She fails too and we understand that we both are major screw ups.

We have been married 10 years. My parents have been married 64 years. I pray that we make it that long.


Wednesday, May 04, 2005 

Life is hard but it does not suck

My wife had a mamogram today and they found something they are doing a biposy today.
If you can pray, pray.
Family is the only thing in the world that I have that i can put my hands on that means anything to me.
BO Snagley.

Tuesday, May 03, 2005 

Truck Ala Snagley

Well another stupid picture from Snagley..

This one is of my Truck. It is outside of my office.
I have no idea what possessed me to put a picture of my truck on the blog.
But here it is in all its splendor.

It has 73,000 miles on it and a 4.0 V6 engine.

If you desire I can send anyone who requests a rag that I used to wipe the dipstick when the oil was tested as a tribute to my truck.
Sort of like Elvis passing out sweaty rags to screaming women.
It could happen.
Snagley out

Monday, May 02, 2005 

Phread and Herman

I have had some questions as to the seriousness of my building a chicken house.
I am serious. I had chickens when I was a kid so I thought I would tell you about one.
His name was Phread pronounced Fred. Phread was a Road Island Red Bantam roster.
He was the friendliest chicken I have ever encountered. I could call him and he would come to me. I have a picture of him when I was a child in my arms. Ah happy day.

I also had a wicked chicken named Herman. Herman would peck the hand that fed him at any opportunity. Herman had on several occasions ran me out of the hen house on my daily trip to gather eggs. I loathed Herman. Herman would get into the garden and peck the tomatoes, making my Mother furious. It was my job to drive Herman out of the Garden. I did this with dirt clods.

Ah dirt clods. When you farm they are everywhere. If you throw them they bust into a million pieces with a little puff of dirt. We thought of them as hand grenades and played war with them. We were calm, gentle and peace loving children. It was against the Geneva Convention to rifle a dirt clod they must be lobbed. Rifling a dirt clod means to “haul off and throw it at someone hard”. It was understood that any one caught rifling a dirt clod was to be the target of all other boys, which was bad, so we did not rifle dirt clods.

On this particular day our rich Aunt Alva was visiting for a few days. It was understood that we had to have couth all week. Our best behavior left much to be desired but I did what I could.
Mom came in the house and told me Herman was in the garden again. I said great and ran out for a little target practice. I was bored to tears from all the good behavior and needed a little excitement. Aunt Alva said, as I ran by, that she was so glad there was someone available for me to play with. I told her Herman is a chicken.
Alva said, “oh BO what one man sees as cowardice another sees as caution.
I did not know what that meant but I understood about ¼ of what she said anyway so I said “ok”.

I went out and began lobbing dirt grenades at Herman. Herman did his usual act of stretching his neck out and running to the hen house as fast as she could. I quickly sent a quick side armed rifled dirt clod at Herman. The one in a million lucky shot caught Herman right in the head. Too bad I thought Herman is dead. He slid to a stop not moving a feather. Chicken executions were commonplace at the Snagley house so this did not faze me much.

Our conversation is as follows.

Mom: Well what about Herman.

Me: Oh I killed him with a rifled dirt clod.

Alva: Oh you are making a joke.

Me: No Herman is dead. I put him on the manure pile

Alva: Inhale deeply Oh My Gawd you killed him. (She then began looking for the phone. I assumed to call the doctor for some asthma medication)

Mom Oh well I never liked Herman anyway the he was such a pecker.

Alva Oh My Gawd this time louder and more sustained.

Herman staggers by the door looking like he was staggering home after a three-day drunk.

Me: Oh look Herman is alive I must have only stunned him

Mom oh well

Alva (She looks like a cocker spaniel working a math problem.) OH Herman is a chicken

Me Yes that is what I said

Alva went home the next day, which was good I had about all the couth I could stand. Things got back to normal then, for what that was worth.
Life was a little better now, Herman seemed a little sweeter and I a little bolder.