Tuesday, January 22, 2008 

Breakfast at Svens

I went to see my friend Sven the other day. I pulled up in front of his house and blew the horn. He came staggering out the door, wearing his bath robe, boots and was cursing under his breath. This is not typical for him he usually would never use profanity at all.
He was mumbling something about 4:00 being some ungodly hour to be blowing a horn.

I asked him if he was going hunting or not, he said he was but it would have been nice for me to invite him prior to 4:00 in the morning. His wife took this opportunity to turn the sprinklers on the both of us, this drove us to his workshop, the temperature was 28 degrees we did not want to ice up
Once in there we fired up his wood stove and put on some coffee. He apologized for his wife, he said she has been drinking too much coffee lately and it makes her irritable. I asked him if she would mind making us some breakfast. He winced and said that would not be the best idea.
He pulled his iron skillet out of his backpack and put it on the wood stove. I got some eggs out of the truck and he tiptoed into the house and got some bacon and bread. I fried us some bacon and eggs while Sven made some toast.

We sat around and ate breakfast and discussed life and other somewhat related topics.

While we were sitting there basking in the warmth of the fire drinking strong coffee he pulled out his Granddaddies shotgun, it’s a Damascus steel double barrel shotgun with rabbit ear hammers. The wood holds that dark oil finish and has the look of a working shotgun.

We reminisced about his Grandfather shooting it at dove shoots when we were 5 or 6 years old and out shooting most people there. We remembered when we snuck up to his outhouse when we were 12 and tried to tip it over. We were wondering why it was so heavy when his grandfather fired that shotgun through the roof and scared us to death. He was sitting in the outhouse at the time.

It cannot be fired with modern shotgun shells, so Sven is having some shells loaded for it by some gunsmith.

I remember when Mr. Johansson died. He left that gun to Sven. We were 13. Sven got that Gun and his Granddaddies hunting hat. I remember Sven carrying that gun, wearing that hat, both way too big for him, that day after the funeral.

We both wiped the tears from out eyes. I miss that old dude. He had a lot of time or kids, as most retired grandfathers do.

If you were wondering we went hunting and, of course, saw nothing.
Snagley out.


Monday, January 14, 2008 

one frosty morning

My Dad got a digital camera for his birthday. this is a picture of the pasture taken from beside his work shop.
it is in the morning one frosty morning. looks pretty doesn't it.

he had a 2 gig card for it. but he only takes about 5 pictures at a time. I told him it would hold almost 3 thousand pictures but who am I go give out technical advise.
Thought i would post it.
that brush is the center is what we call the plum thicket. there are some dead plum trees surrounded by privet hedges.

that brush to the left of that is whats left of the privet that i have been cutting on for about 4 years.

The cubs came out last weekend, we had a good time. there were about 50 total. it was chaos but i like chaos. We had a fire for hot dogs, and the kids rode the zip line and walked around on the barrel and played on the tire swings. One kid fell in love with the chickens. I love kids.

We are pursuing a home study to see if we would make fit parents for an adoption. Cross your fingers.

Winnifred is still a child acting like a child, about to have a child. she looks like she did only now she looks like she is hiding a watermelon in her shirt and cantaloupes in her bra.

Its been a year since my accident where got the dandy scar on my head. Oh how time flies when you are having headaches.

Snagley out.

Wednesday, January 09, 2008 

its official i am a bad person

OK here is my dilemma.
I like to think of my self as a giving generous person. I have just discovered that I am actually a bad person.

I have actually known it all along but it was verified on Christmas.
My side of the family draws names for Christmas. Its pretty much the only present I get so I look forward to it. We all try to be creative and think of the person as much as possible to get something that matches their personality. Last year I got a cool hunting jacket.

I opened my present this year and found that a donation was made in my name to my favorite charity. It reminded me of the episode of Seinfeld where a donation was made in your name to the human fund, a fictitious charity. But this one was real.

Now I was glad and all that,it is a good charity, but when I found out that I personally was not getting some stuff, I was disappointed. I wanted some stuff. Thus the dilemma and guilt.

So now that it is official that I am a bad person I invite each of you to point out further flaws in my character.

Such as

o I find most people annoying. There it is I said it. Most people really annoy me. Its not their fault I just have little patience for most people

o I spit a lot. My wife pointed this out as I took her on a date not long ago and spit on a bush outside of a Japanese restaurant. Did not even know I did it.

o I want both Alabama and Auburn to loose every game including the ones they play against each other. If I say this aloud someone might paint nasty sayings on my house, and heckle my wife and kids as they buy groceries.

o I eat peas with my knife.
o I eat peanut butter from the jar with a spoon
o I pick the lint from my navel while watching TV.
o Etc

As a bad person the pressure is now off I can be bad with impunity. I may now clip my toenails on my front porch, or dare I say wear my underwear on the outside of my pants.
The skys the limit.

Snagley out.