Monday, May 14, 2012

Far Sight

I think I was 10, maybe 11, the first time I climbed a  silo.  My dad would have busted my ass for sure, had he caught me in the middle of the climb.  For doing such a dangerous thing, he'd say, but probably for near giving him a heart attack if the truth be known.  But he was himself no stranger to attempting new things, so, just maybe, a little bit of pride that I had a bit of himself in me.

I was a smallish kid, hell, who am I kidding, I was damn near the runt of my class up until I took a growth spurt in the 11th grade.  That includes all the girls too.  So to climb a 60 ft. tall silo, where the steel rods circling it were over 2 1/2 feet apart once you got above 20 feet up, was something of a stretch for me.  Good thing I didn't weigh too much.  My scrawny arms could each pull me up once I got my fingers around the next ring.  Today they wouldn't hold half my ass off the ground.

But, I was young, lean and uncaring of the height.  I just wanted to get to the top.  Every ring higher brought new vistas to my sight.  I could see over the cow shed,  out over the coastal bermuda pasture, to the creek beyond, to the alfalfa field, to the far trees.  All familiar, yet completely different from my new found prospective.  A new world, with heretofore unseen places to be explored.  And I did.

Every since, I've loved being up high, able to see farther, more, new. Possibly one reason I wanted to fly for the army.

 I still have a desire to own one of the old fire towers.


There are quite a few of them still around here in NE Georgia.  Most are locked so you can't climb to the top, mostly abandoned since the proliferation of small aircraft flying around enables quicker detection and locating of forest fires, but every time I drive past one, that urge to be up high, to see farther than those pitiable ground crawlers, strikes, filling my imagination with what wonders could be seen from up there.

Maybe this explains some of my desire in these somewhat unsettled economic and political times, to think on what might be, good or ill, and to desire to know ahead of time, like the fire watchers of yesterday, what is coming, to be able to shout a warning, or simply to radio, "all is calm, no problems to be seen, wow what a view".

If I were young again..........I'd go climb a pine tree.

Thursday, May 03, 2012

Just Damn!

When I don't post for a while (3 wks or so)  I come back to find that blogger has completely revamped the dashboard where these rantings and ravings are composed with great attention to punctuation, grammar and all those other things the english teachers in high school cracked my knuckles about.

All I wanted to do is let folks know that my email (which I thought was posted in the About Me section), was not.

I have corrected that oversight.  This may result in more spam and ads for male enhancement, which I may need, but the fact of four (count 'em) 4 children shows that I've had sex at least 4 times in my life and any inadequacies were not sufficient to prohibit getting the job done.  Of course I am well trained in the art of artificial insemination.

So, if anyone wishes to converse outside the comment section, please avail yourself of the email link.

House keeping aside, it's been hot and dry here for the last few days.  Actually the dry part stretches back much farther than has been good for the ecological health of the local flora.  Cranking the lawnmower automatically creates a cloud of good red Georgia dust that covers everything in the area.

We watered Kathrine and the other flowers today.  I found the sprinkler while trying to arrange some of the mess in the Man Cave.  Of course the mechanism on the sprinkler which caused it to wave back and forth broke on the first wave and we could only water in one direction.  But the Gladiolas and roses seems a little brighter for the effort.  Tomorrow I may water the Tomatoes.

I sure hope they bloom this year, but since they were only planted 6 weeks ago I'm having my doubts.

Oh yes, does anyone have and atomic powered post hole digger.  That may be the only way to get a hole of more than two inches deep dug here at the Periwinkle farm.