I have not had anything to post during this summer season. I don't know why. Either there is nothing noteworthy to talk about, or there were too many things to talk about and I couldn't choose just a few. But today is different. There was nothing noteworthy, just a memory. It was just a reflection is all, but a good one.
Today, my wife and I went down to the pasture to see the horses. We have been busy for a few days and had not checked on them in about a week. They have more than enough pasture to graze in and plenty of water so there was no concern over them having those things. And they were still plump as before. Apparently they eat well.
So we walked back up the hill to the barn and saw that a fence on one of the run-ins had been damaged. Apparently one or more of the horses decided they wanted to nibble something in the run-in and loosed a couple of the fence boards. Actually one was completely broken in two.
I retrieved the hammer from the barn and pulled the nails from the boards. I wanted to make sure we did not have any loose nails on the ground that could injure a horse's hoof. I could not find the box of nails to put the board back up. So I did what anyone else would do in my situation, I straightened the bent nails so I could re-use them.
Now to some, that may seem mundane, and not even worth mentioning. But to me, I immediately was catapaulted back to my childhood. I remember well the day I was busy hammering some nails into a pile of boards when I was about 8 or 9 and I bent the few nails I had. I don't remember what I was making, but I remember what happened next.
My father would pay a local black man to cut the grass. He was the husband of the woman that my mother hired to be a nanny at times for me and my brother. They were Reuben and Rose Brown and I have nothing but fond memories of them both.
Now Rose is worthy of an entire post of her own, so I will just stick to my little side story about Reuben, or rather "Son" as he was known by most.
"Son" was cutting our grass and saw me on the concrete steps of the porch. He took a break and walked over and in his own distinct way of talking he asked "what'cha doin' ovah heyah?" I explained my plight. I was not finished and I ran out of nails.
Son said "why that ain't no problem boy, looky heyah". And with that Son picked up my hammer and proceeded to straighten a couple bent nails. He looked at me and said "see, ya got all ya need, ya just got ta fix em a bit". Son sat there with me for a few more minutes and corrected my bent nail straightening skills. Then he wiped the sweat from his brow and went back to cutting grass in the summer sun.
I managed to finish my project, whatever it was, and I brought Son out some cold water to drink when he was finished cutting the grass.
This story is really nothing special. Its just about some bent nails and a little boy. But I will always remember Son Brown every time I straighten a bent nail. And come to think of it, that is good enough reason as any to write this down.
Copyright 2006, Kevin Farley (a.k.a. sixdrift, a.k.a. neuronstatic)
Saturday, July 29, 2006
Monday, May 08, 2006
Dragons and Cats
At the prompting of my daughter, I just read the book Eragon. What a fantastic read. My hat is off to Christopher Paolini. This young man did a fantastic job. Reading through Eragon had me thinking about my dragons, Elves, Dwarves, my own writing projects, and my cats.
Cats? Yes cats.
The descriptions of the dragon Saphira resting, or her lithe movements, often made me think of my cats. And as I would read, I would often see one of the cats slinking around, coiled up to nap, jumping up to the tops of furniture, or otherwise being... a cat. So it was a mental image reinforced by what was going on around me.
But also in the back of my mind were thoughts of my own writing projects and how different they were than this fantasy. Now my projects are fantasy works, but not on the scale or in the same likeness of these kinds of tales. And that made me stop and think.
How does one write a complete book?
I mean, I know the basics and I know how to craft a story line so that it can flow without significant interruption, and with enough insight to the reader to guide them along the way. But knowing and doing are two distinct things. And distractions loom always overhead.
Somehow I need to actually complete something in order to get to the next thing. That is not as simple as it sounds. I am easily distracted and I have a family. But in writing, I can think out things in ways to explore the human condition vicariously. Enduring hardships and enjoying adventure through the actions of my fictional characters.
I guess you could say its kind of a way to explore and ease stress from the safety and comfort of my own home. Or its just something to do. Or perhaps, just perhaps, it is because these stories want to be read. At any rate, I will continue on, struggling, as it were, to complete them.
So as I think on these things, and ponder how to get back on track on my own writing, I realize I have one more task to do today. I must clean the cat's litter box. Not a pleasant task by any stretch of the imagination. But at least it is only cats. Imagine the mess two dragons would make in a litter box.
Copyright 2006, Kevin Farley (a.k.a. sixdrift, a.k.a. neuronstatic)
Cats? Yes cats.
The descriptions of the dragon Saphira resting, or her lithe movements, often made me think of my cats. And as I would read, I would often see one of the cats slinking around, coiled up to nap, jumping up to the tops of furniture, or otherwise being... a cat. So it was a mental image reinforced by what was going on around me.
But also in the back of my mind were thoughts of my own writing projects and how different they were than this fantasy. Now my projects are fantasy works, but not on the scale or in the same likeness of these kinds of tales. And that made me stop and think.
How does one write a complete book?
I mean, I know the basics and I know how to craft a story line so that it can flow without significant interruption, and with enough insight to the reader to guide them along the way. But knowing and doing are two distinct things. And distractions loom always overhead.
Somehow I need to actually complete something in order to get to the next thing. That is not as simple as it sounds. I am easily distracted and I have a family. But in writing, I can think out things in ways to explore the human condition vicariously. Enduring hardships and enjoying adventure through the actions of my fictional characters.
I guess you could say its kind of a way to explore and ease stress from the safety and comfort of my own home. Or its just something to do. Or perhaps, just perhaps, it is because these stories want to be read. At any rate, I will continue on, struggling, as it were, to complete them.
So as I think on these things, and ponder how to get back on track on my own writing, I realize I have one more task to do today. I must clean the cat's litter box. Not a pleasant task by any stretch of the imagination. But at least it is only cats. Imagine the mess two dragons would make in a litter box.
Copyright 2006, Kevin Farley (a.k.a. sixdrift, a.k.a. neuronstatic)
Thursday, April 13, 2006
When "Red Rover, Red Rover" Goes Horribly Wrong
A typical youth group night with the exception that the guys are separated from the girls for this specific lesson. So I am outside with the other adults and the guys from the youth group where they can turn the most mundane of games into a potentially dangerous adventure. Such is the way with guys.
Anyway, there we are, trying to find ways of amusing ourselves when we decide to use a long piece of rope for tug-of-war. Once I landed on my back on the pavement, and once I had some skin shredded off the back of my hand from the rope burn (not to mention my fingers were numb for about 10 minutes). But all in all, things were going well.
Then we decided to get silly and play Red Rover. Now if you are somehow unfamiliar with this child's game it is just a fun game with a little rhyme in it. Two teams line up across from each other and the members lock hands. Then the "captain" of one team says "Red Rover, Red Rover, send Billy right over" (or Mary or Tommy or Jenny or whoever). Then that person leaves their team and runs directly at the line of the other team in an attempt to break the hand-hold of two people. If they succeed in getting through, then they go back to their team and take one of the broken line with them. If they don't succeed they join that team.
And so it goes. There are variations but I think you get the idea.
Now when we were kids, we would haul butt over to the other side in an attempt to slam our way past. But we were small then. Now when you have 14-17 year old guys playing, you have more mass. Physics starts to become a concern.
So there they were. One team to my right standing in the open grass. The other team to my left, standing in the open grass about 16 feet from a brick wall. I bet you can see where this is going.
The challenge was on. Guys like a challenge and typically play with enthusiasm when physical violence is involved -- they have a saying in youth group that "its all fun and games until someone gets hurt, then its hilarious". So they played a while and then one of the other guys who is already out of youth group but was at church decided to play.
By this time there was enough testosterone in the air to paint the parking lot with it.
So the newcomer gets called over and he runs straight at the line and goes for a stronger pair instead of an easier target. And he runs right into their interlocked hands which fling open at his mighty rushing force. Now remember that wall that was 16 feet away? It was still there and a speeding teenager can cover 16 feet faster than they wished.
Yep, he smacked head first into the brick wall. He literally ran into a brick wall. We all heard the thud when he hit. And then he rebounded back and down to the ground he went. Ouch is an understatement. Now I have to admit, I ran into a masonry wall before and when I did, I ended up with 16 stitches. So I know it hurts.
So there he lay, the hapless victim of "Red Rover". Everyone rushed over to see the damage. One minor scrape on the chin, a small cut on the cheek, a large swollen and cut bump above one eye, and and umistakable brick imprint over his eyebrow. Despite the circumstances, he was doing quite well. He was hurt to be sure, but alert and able to answer questions. It did take a while to get up though.
He did hurt his wrist as well as he tried to stop himself. In the end, he went to the hospital to have the wrist looked at. That is when they decided to put in 3 stitches above the eye, set the right broken wrist in a cast, and set the left broken arm in a cast up to the elbow.
Is there a point to this story? No. It is just a description of what happens when "Red Rover" goes horribly wrong.
Our final advice to our friend was to tell everyone who asks "you should see the other guy!"
Copyright 2006, Kevin Farley (a.k.a. sixdrift, a.k.a. neuronstatic)
Anyway, there we are, trying to find ways of amusing ourselves when we decide to use a long piece of rope for tug-of-war. Once I landed on my back on the pavement, and once I had some skin shredded off the back of my hand from the rope burn (not to mention my fingers were numb for about 10 minutes). But all in all, things were going well.
Then we decided to get silly and play Red Rover. Now if you are somehow unfamiliar with this child's game it is just a fun game with a little rhyme in it. Two teams line up across from each other and the members lock hands. Then the "captain" of one team says "Red Rover, Red Rover, send Billy right over" (or Mary or Tommy or Jenny or whoever). Then that person leaves their team and runs directly at the line of the other team in an attempt to break the hand-hold of two people. If they succeed in getting through, then they go back to their team and take one of the broken line with them. If they don't succeed they join that team.
And so it goes. There are variations but I think you get the idea.
Now when we were kids, we would haul butt over to the other side in an attempt to slam our way past. But we were small then. Now when you have 14-17 year old guys playing, you have more mass. Physics starts to become a concern.
So there they were. One team to my right standing in the open grass. The other team to my left, standing in the open grass about 16 feet from a brick wall. I bet you can see where this is going.
The challenge was on. Guys like a challenge and typically play with enthusiasm when physical violence is involved -- they have a saying in youth group that "its all fun and games until someone gets hurt, then its hilarious". So they played a while and then one of the other guys who is already out of youth group but was at church decided to play.
By this time there was enough testosterone in the air to paint the parking lot with it.
So the newcomer gets called over and he runs straight at the line and goes for a stronger pair instead of an easier target. And he runs right into their interlocked hands which fling open at his mighty rushing force. Now remember that wall that was 16 feet away? It was still there and a speeding teenager can cover 16 feet faster than they wished.
Yep, he smacked head first into the brick wall. He literally ran into a brick wall. We all heard the thud when he hit. And then he rebounded back and down to the ground he went. Ouch is an understatement. Now I have to admit, I ran into a masonry wall before and when I did, I ended up with 16 stitches. So I know it hurts.
So there he lay, the hapless victim of "Red Rover". Everyone rushed over to see the damage. One minor scrape on the chin, a small cut on the cheek, a large swollen and cut bump above one eye, and and umistakable brick imprint over his eyebrow. Despite the circumstances, he was doing quite well. He was hurt to be sure, but alert and able to answer questions. It did take a while to get up though.
He did hurt his wrist as well as he tried to stop himself. In the end, he went to the hospital to have the wrist looked at. That is when they decided to put in 3 stitches above the eye, set the right broken wrist in a cast, and set the left broken arm in a cast up to the elbow.
Is there a point to this story? No. It is just a description of what happens when "Red Rover" goes horribly wrong.
Our final advice to our friend was to tell everyone who asks "you should see the other guy!"
Copyright 2006, Kevin Farley (a.k.a. sixdrift, a.k.a. neuronstatic)
Monday, March 27, 2006
Sense of Accomplishment
There is nothing like having a sense of accomplishment. It feels good to know you got something done. It seems all too often I am involved in activities that have long drawn out paths and uncertain endings. Many times changes in priorities can cause an activity to be put on hold or eliminated completely. But everyone needs to complete something or they will go mad.
Last week, I completed several work items (finally) and I sent them off. I also finished a couple minor projects at home. So I was on a roll. While I still have vast amounts of unfinished work (paying work and home stuff), I am moving forward again. But I did something Saturday that kind of topped everything.
We have a small field that had not been mowed in several years. There were thickets of briars and even some small trees popping up. We plan on using that field as a paddock and I knew it needed to be cut soon before it got completely out of hand. The field also has a gully and a fairly steep side, so I knew it would not be easy cutting it. Parts of it were so bad I could not walk into it with the chainsaw to take out some of the bigger young trees.
So Saturday I fired up the tractor, got the Bush Hog in full spin, and started into the field. I got scratched by more briars than I can count. I cut down more saplings than I care to think about. And then I had to head down the steep back side into the gully. That was the most disconcerting part. Several times in the gully the mower got hung up. I finally had to put the tractor into four wheel drive to finish it out.
Once I cut my way into the thickest part, I was able to come in with the chainsaw and take out the bigger saplings. And then it was back in the saddle to finish it up. This was where I also realized that in four wheel drive, I could mow up that steep hill. That was cool.
As I was cutting through all this entanglement, I began to see order come out of chaos. I was making progress and it felt good. It was a tangible result to my efforts and something I have found, every man needs now and then. Progress and accomplishment are good.
Well after I finished, I drove the tractor back up to the top of the hill on the way back to the house. I had to stop and just survey my work. It was decent but not perfect. I still need to get closer to the fence line and I have some more finish work to do, but to see that field cleared was a very welcome sense of accomplishment.
Yes I was having fun. Yes I feel good about getting something done.
But why did I write this post? I suppose just so I could share about cutting the field. However I seriously have to say that the feeling of accomplishment was something I needed and I think most people do need every so often. Too often we feel stymied by the world, like we have no effect on anything. Too often we feel powerless and even sometimes just like we can't keep up with life.
I know I will have to cut that field regularly now, but I took on a task, worked at it, had a result, and I got that oh so important sense of accomplishment. I think it is important for everyone to know that feeling every now and then.
And now you have finished reading this post. You undertook its reading and you completed it. Doesn't that feel good? :-)
Copyright 2006, Kevin Farley (a.k.a. sixdrift, a.k.a. neuronstatic)
Last week, I completed several work items (finally) and I sent them off. I also finished a couple minor projects at home. So I was on a roll. While I still have vast amounts of unfinished work (paying work and home stuff), I am moving forward again. But I did something Saturday that kind of topped everything.
We have a small field that had not been mowed in several years. There were thickets of briars and even some small trees popping up. We plan on using that field as a paddock and I knew it needed to be cut soon before it got completely out of hand. The field also has a gully and a fairly steep side, so I knew it would not be easy cutting it. Parts of it were so bad I could not walk into it with the chainsaw to take out some of the bigger young trees.
So Saturday I fired up the tractor, got the Bush Hog in full spin, and started into the field. I got scratched by more briars than I can count. I cut down more saplings than I care to think about. And then I had to head down the steep back side into the gully. That was the most disconcerting part. Several times in the gully the mower got hung up. I finally had to put the tractor into four wheel drive to finish it out.
Once I cut my way into the thickest part, I was able to come in with the chainsaw and take out the bigger saplings. And then it was back in the saddle to finish it up. This was where I also realized that in four wheel drive, I could mow up that steep hill. That was cool.
As I was cutting through all this entanglement, I began to see order come out of chaos. I was making progress and it felt good. It was a tangible result to my efforts and something I have found, every man needs now and then. Progress and accomplishment are good.
Well after I finished, I drove the tractor back up to the top of the hill on the way back to the house. I had to stop and just survey my work. It was decent but not perfect. I still need to get closer to the fence line and I have some more finish work to do, but to see that field cleared was a very welcome sense of accomplishment.
Yes I was having fun. Yes I feel good about getting something done.
But why did I write this post? I suppose just so I could share about cutting the field. However I seriously have to say that the feeling of accomplishment was something I needed and I think most people do need every so often. Too often we feel stymied by the world, like we have no effect on anything. Too often we feel powerless and even sometimes just like we can't keep up with life.
I know I will have to cut that field regularly now, but I took on a task, worked at it, had a result, and I got that oh so important sense of accomplishment. I think it is important for everyone to know that feeling every now and then.
And now you have finished reading this post. You undertook its reading and you completed it. Doesn't that feel good? :-)
Copyright 2006, Kevin Farley (a.k.a. sixdrift, a.k.a. neuronstatic)
Wednesday, March 08, 2006
Bad Things and Contradictory Prayers
Ever have bad things happen to you? Ever been involved with bad things and contradictory prayers? I have. Contradictory prayers are ones where you pray for A and someone else prays for B and A and B are totally opposite.
It is too easy to presume that if something happens or does not happens then it has something to do with one prayer have precedence over the other. I do not think the result has to necessarily be dependent on whether or not one person's prayers are more correct or stronger than anothers. I also do not think that God is so casual in answering prayer. What I do see amazes me.
How does God decide what to do in contradictory prayers? God does not pick and choose to answer prayers at random and He does not merely look at contradictory prayers and try to deal with them as they come. Instead God works in each of us all the time. His work is so complete in us we have no idea it happens and cannot often see the result until after the fact. It is not that God reacts to our contradicting prayers. It is that God works through our lives and causes us to pray the prayers we each pray.
Now clearly, if you are praying only for yourself, there is a good chance your heart might not be in the right place for that prayer. Usually I have found that when you are praying for others is when your heart is right. But that does not preclude prayers for deliverance and self. I can see where it looks like God answers one person's prayer and not another's and it can be confusing. That is until we realize we are not God, can never be, and must not try to contain God in human reasoning.
What I realize now is that I know for an absolute fact of the universe (as given to me through the Holy Spirit in my daily walk with Him) is that God allows terrible things to happen to people at times, not to reward some and punish others, but to accomplish His will. It is part of His discipline of those whom He loves.
This disciplining process can be very thorough and will remove sin and impediments to our walk with Christ. But we don't necessarily like discipline. Consider Hebrews 12:11
Through all of my discipline and personal experience, God showed me many errors I had. I have been refined as we all are being refined in our lives. And through that refining fire I came to see passages of the Bible that I never saw before. Not because I had not read them, but because I could not see until then. I know there are still some scales on my eyes, and that is why I seek God daily and read and absorb the Scriptures not from a standpoint of my own foolishness, but of God's purpose, love, justice, and mercy.
I feel that it was needed to be said: not all things can be fixed. Some things God destroys. But God does not leave holes in the lives of His followers. God replaces what is destroyed so that He may fill it with something better that suits His purposes.
So then, on the other side of those experiences, we can look back and say "it was terrible, I never want to go through that again, I will do anything and everything to avoid it in the future, but yet I know that God is in control". That is when God meets us at the place He brings us to.
Think of Hebrews 12:7
Copyright 2006, Kevin Farley (a.k.a. sixdrift, a.k.a. neuronstatic)
It is too easy to presume that if something happens or does not happens then it has something to do with one prayer have precedence over the other. I do not think the result has to necessarily be dependent on whether or not one person's prayers are more correct or stronger than anothers. I also do not think that God is so casual in answering prayer. What I do see amazes me.
How does God decide what to do in contradictory prayers? God does not pick and choose to answer prayers at random and He does not merely look at contradictory prayers and try to deal with them as they come. Instead God works in each of us all the time. His work is so complete in us we have no idea it happens and cannot often see the result until after the fact. It is not that God reacts to our contradicting prayers. It is that God works through our lives and causes us to pray the prayers we each pray.
Now clearly, if you are praying only for yourself, there is a good chance your heart might not be in the right place for that prayer. Usually I have found that when you are praying for others is when your heart is right. But that does not preclude prayers for deliverance and self. I can see where it looks like God answers one person's prayer and not another's and it can be confusing. That is until we realize we are not God, can never be, and must not try to contain God in human reasoning.
What I realize now is that I know for an absolute fact of the universe (as given to me through the Holy Spirit in my daily walk with Him) is that God allows terrible things to happen to people at times, not to reward some and punish others, but to accomplish His will. It is part of His discipline of those whom He loves.
This disciplining process can be very thorough and will remove sin and impediments to our walk with Christ. But we don't necessarily like discipline. Consider Hebrews 12:11
No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it.So when a person can look at a situation and see beyond their own hurt and realize that God is not punishing them, but everything that happens is somehow "sequenced" as part of a bigger plan of God, then we can see Him at work. That is when we began to look with eyes that we did not have previously.
Through all of my discipline and personal experience, God showed me many errors I had. I have been refined as we all are being refined in our lives. And through that refining fire I came to see passages of the Bible that I never saw before. Not because I had not read them, but because I could not see until then. I know there are still some scales on my eyes, and that is why I seek God daily and read and absorb the Scriptures not from a standpoint of my own foolishness, but of God's purpose, love, justice, and mercy.
I feel that it was needed to be said: not all things can be fixed. Some things God destroys. But God does not leave holes in the lives of His followers. God replaces what is destroyed so that He may fill it with something better that suits His purposes.
So then, on the other side of those experiences, we can look back and say "it was terrible, I never want to go through that again, I will do anything and everything to avoid it in the future, but yet I know that God is in control". That is when God meets us at the place He brings us to.
Think of Hebrews 12:7
It is for discipline that you endure; God deals with you as with sons; for what son is there whom his father does not discipline?
Copyright 2006, Kevin Farley (a.k.a. sixdrift, a.k.a. neuronstatic)
Friday, March 03, 2006
Morning Walks
I have recently become a remote tele-commuter and I work out of my home. I am still new to this and I found that I was having difficulty staying awake around mid-morning. My wife suggested that I take a morning walk to wake me up before I start work. Well, this post is about my walk this morning.
When I stepped outside this morning, it was still quite chilly and I had my camo jacket and camo hat on. I zipped up my jacket all the way and started off the back deck. As I walked down the gravel driveway, our coon hound Millie got up from a nap and started walking with me. We walked past the front of the house and headed toward the back of the farm.
Millie would walk ahead and frequently stop and look back. Such is the nature of a dog and a mystery why God created such an animal and friend of man. She was never far from me. Her nose was in constant motion as she sniffed out things that I did not know were there. She would criss-cross my path and go bounding into the woods after something she flushed out.
I continued across the creek and into a well overgrown field. We plan on renovating this field for use as a pasture and I just wanted to take a look. After I walked to the middle of it, I was in chest high briars and brambles. I had not seen Millie for about 10 minutes. As I started down the hill toward the creek again, there she was.
Exiting the field was as dangerous as entering it with all the briars and undergrowth. But soon I was in the woods again, heading back toward the creek. I crossed the first fork of this little creek and stopped in the middle of a clearing. I could hear the rustle of leaves everywhere and hear so many different bird calls I could not identify very many of them.
A little further on and I heard the barking of many squirrels and more birds. I stood there in my own silence listening to the hustle and bustle of woodland life going on around me. I would have stayed there for hours except I was supposed to be starting work soon. So I reluctantly started back toward the house. Step by step I listened intently to the sounds around me and crossed the second fork of the creek.
I had been treated to a woodland symphony with no meter and no key. What would seem to many as disorganized and sporadic calls and chirps, to me was a composition by the One who created it all. No melody to hum, no beat to tap a foot to, but a music that reaches directly to the soul.
I finally got back to the house and rejoined the world. I took my shower, powered up my computer, and went to work. But in my head I heard the birds and squirrels singing their part of the grand score.
I like these morning walks. Today is a good day.
Copyright 2006, Kevin Farley (a.k.a. sixdrift, a.k.a. neuronstatic)
When I stepped outside this morning, it was still quite chilly and I had my camo jacket and camo hat on. I zipped up my jacket all the way and started off the back deck. As I walked down the gravel driveway, our coon hound Millie got up from a nap and started walking with me. We walked past the front of the house and headed toward the back of the farm.
Millie would walk ahead and frequently stop and look back. Such is the nature of a dog and a mystery why God created such an animal and friend of man. She was never far from me. Her nose was in constant motion as she sniffed out things that I did not know were there. She would criss-cross my path and go bounding into the woods after something she flushed out.
I continued across the creek and into a well overgrown field. We plan on renovating this field for use as a pasture and I just wanted to take a look. After I walked to the middle of it, I was in chest high briars and brambles. I had not seen Millie for about 10 minutes. As I started down the hill toward the creek again, there she was.
Exiting the field was as dangerous as entering it with all the briars and undergrowth. But soon I was in the woods again, heading back toward the creek. I crossed the first fork of this little creek and stopped in the middle of a clearing. I could hear the rustle of leaves everywhere and hear so many different bird calls I could not identify very many of them.
A little further on and I heard the barking of many squirrels and more birds. I stood there in my own silence listening to the hustle and bustle of woodland life going on around me. I would have stayed there for hours except I was supposed to be starting work soon. So I reluctantly started back toward the house. Step by step I listened intently to the sounds around me and crossed the second fork of the creek.
I had been treated to a woodland symphony with no meter and no key. What would seem to many as disorganized and sporadic calls and chirps, to me was a composition by the One who created it all. No melody to hum, no beat to tap a foot to, but a music that reaches directly to the soul.
I finally got back to the house and rejoined the world. I took my shower, powered up my computer, and went to work. But in my head I heard the birds and squirrels singing their part of the grand score.
I like these morning walks. Today is a good day.
Copyright 2006, Kevin Farley (a.k.a. sixdrift, a.k.a. neuronstatic)
Thursday, February 23, 2006
Stampede!
The morning began as any other typical morning. As I started my day, I had no idea of the horror that was to be unleashed in our own back yard.
I was just leaving for the post office when I stepped out onto the back deck. That is when I first heard that unmistakable baying of hounds giving chase. There were many of them and they were wound up into such a frenzy it was just a continuous din of dogs. This cacophony of predators so near my house was unnerving.
I stood there and listened. I was not sure if I should just go back in the house or continue on to my car 60 feet away. Then I heard my own dog Millie. Being a coon hound she was naturally curious as to what the noise was all about. But Millie is not a bold dog. I began to wonder if I should fear for her as well.
I called to Millie to get her back in the house before this horde of hounds came sweeping up the hillside. As Millie came rounding the house from the front, I caught my first glimpse of teeth and terror coming toward the both of us.
There they were. A stampeding brigade of baby beagles.
There must have been a dozen of them. They moved in unearthly ways and seemed to have a flocking instinct that kept the pack moving in the same general direction. What was the morning to hold for me? Was this to be my end? Was I to be eaten alive by pudgy puppies?
I watched the horde swarm up the hillside, carefully avoid the wet spot in our septic tank's drain field, and then continue their relentless march over the next ridge. I was spared.
I can still hear their calls of death in my ears. Oh will time remove this memory of horror or must I forever remember this as...
The Day of the Beagle Babies
[dun-dun-dun, sounds of 1950s scifi B movies]
With enough bone-chilling adventure to keep you on the edge of your seat. Coming to the woods near you. Taxes, title, and tags not included, your mileage may vary, keep out of reach of children. Do not operate a motor vehicle if you are a baby beagle.
Copyright 2006, Kevin Farley (a.k.a. sixdrift, a.k.a. neuronstatic)
I was just leaving for the post office when I stepped out onto the back deck. That is when I first heard that unmistakable baying of hounds giving chase. There were many of them and they were wound up into such a frenzy it was just a continuous din of dogs. This cacophony of predators so near my house was unnerving.
I stood there and listened. I was not sure if I should just go back in the house or continue on to my car 60 feet away. Then I heard my own dog Millie. Being a coon hound she was naturally curious as to what the noise was all about. But Millie is not a bold dog. I began to wonder if I should fear for her as well.
I called to Millie to get her back in the house before this horde of hounds came sweeping up the hillside. As Millie came rounding the house from the front, I caught my first glimpse of teeth and terror coming toward the both of us.
There they were. A stampeding brigade of baby beagles.
There must have been a dozen of them. They moved in unearthly ways and seemed to have a flocking instinct that kept the pack moving in the same general direction. What was the morning to hold for me? Was this to be my end? Was I to be eaten alive by pudgy puppies?
I watched the horde swarm up the hillside, carefully avoid the wet spot in our septic tank's drain field, and then continue their relentless march over the next ridge. I was spared.
I can still hear their calls of death in my ears. Oh will time remove this memory of horror or must I forever remember this as...
The Day of the Beagle Babies
[dun-dun-dun, sounds of 1950s scifi B movies]
With enough bone-chilling adventure to keep you on the edge of your seat. Coming to the woods near you. Taxes, title, and tags not included, your mileage may vary, keep out of reach of children. Do not operate a motor vehicle if you are a baby beagle.
Copyright 2006, Kevin Farley (a.k.a. sixdrift, a.k.a. neuronstatic)
Monday, February 20, 2006
I Hate Being Sick
I really do hate being sick. It kind of feels like "failure". Now I know that is not the reality of it, but when I am sick I don't do all the things I need to do. So I feel that I let others down.
Some weeks ago, I got a sinus infection. Now I have had perpetual sinus infections since I was a kid. So this was nothing new to me. So I fought it off the best I could without going to the doctor. And I managed to keep up my chores and duties.
Then it really hit me. And I mean hit me hard. Instead of just a stuffy nose, I was running fevers, coughing, and my nose was starting to bleed from the infection. In other words, it whipped me.
Well about the same time, my daughter came down with near identical symptoms (except for the nose bleed thing) and we were both miserable. Aches, pains, fevers, coughing, sore throat, the works.
Now shortly before we got hit by this, my son had this kind of thing. But he did what comes natural to him, he slept. He literally slept for 2 days. And you know what, he did not have as many problems as us and it did not last as long. But my daughter and I are still miserable, but being tended to lovingly.
Now let me tell you about my wife. My wife is awesome. She has taken care of me and her step-daughter unlike anything I could have imagined. She has seen to it to lessen our afflictions in all ways she could possibly. And she picked up my slack and was doing the things I should have been doing. I am a blessed man.
Now it was at the urging of my wife though that I finally decided to take myself and my daughter to the doctor. So today, we drove 34 miles to an "urgent care" facility. It is one of the few places you can get in without making an appointment months in advance it seems. Anyway we show up this Monday morning and I knew there would be a wait. When the lady told me the wait would be about 1 hour and 45 minutes, that was ok, we needed to be there.
So my daughter and I sat in the waiting room and watched some daytime tv. We watched Tyra, The Price Is Right, Dr. Phil, and a little bit of a soap, before we finally got into the doctor. That is because we ended up waiting 3 hours and 20 minutes to get in to see the doctor.
Now once in the exam room, we were there only 15 minutes. The doctor looked up our noses, in our ears, and in our throats. He came back with prescriptions for a couple of Z-packs and some cough suppressant, and we were on our way.
So tonight, we have already taken the first dose of our Z-packs. My wife made me take a bath in epsom salts to ease the general aches. And I took my cough suppressant. So right now, I feel much better. I know I have a ways to go yet, but there is light at the end of the tunnel. The last few nights of barely sleeping and coughing all night long were really taking a toll.
So I hate being sick. But I got to see love in action while I was sick. My wife loved me through all those aches and pains. My wife loved her step daughter like her very own child as well. Because I was sick, I have an even deeper appreciation of my wife. I suppose I could say I was blessed with being sick.
I still hate being sick though.
Copyright 2006, Kevin Farley (a.k.a. sixdrift, a.k.a. neuronstatic)
Some weeks ago, I got a sinus infection. Now I have had perpetual sinus infections since I was a kid. So this was nothing new to me. So I fought it off the best I could without going to the doctor. And I managed to keep up my chores and duties.
Then it really hit me. And I mean hit me hard. Instead of just a stuffy nose, I was running fevers, coughing, and my nose was starting to bleed from the infection. In other words, it whipped me.
Well about the same time, my daughter came down with near identical symptoms (except for the nose bleed thing) and we were both miserable. Aches, pains, fevers, coughing, sore throat, the works.
Now shortly before we got hit by this, my son had this kind of thing. But he did what comes natural to him, he slept. He literally slept for 2 days. And you know what, he did not have as many problems as us and it did not last as long. But my daughter and I are still miserable, but being tended to lovingly.
Now let me tell you about my wife. My wife is awesome. She has taken care of me and her step-daughter unlike anything I could have imagined. She has seen to it to lessen our afflictions in all ways she could possibly. And she picked up my slack and was doing the things I should have been doing. I am a blessed man.
Now it was at the urging of my wife though that I finally decided to take myself and my daughter to the doctor. So today, we drove 34 miles to an "urgent care" facility. It is one of the few places you can get in without making an appointment months in advance it seems. Anyway we show up this Monday morning and I knew there would be a wait. When the lady told me the wait would be about 1 hour and 45 minutes, that was ok, we needed to be there.
So my daughter and I sat in the waiting room and watched some daytime tv. We watched Tyra, The Price Is Right, Dr. Phil, and a little bit of a soap, before we finally got into the doctor. That is because we ended up waiting 3 hours and 20 minutes to get in to see the doctor.
Now once in the exam room, we were there only 15 minutes. The doctor looked up our noses, in our ears, and in our throats. He came back with prescriptions for a couple of Z-packs and some cough suppressant, and we were on our way.
So tonight, we have already taken the first dose of our Z-packs. My wife made me take a bath in epsom salts to ease the general aches. And I took my cough suppressant. So right now, I feel much better. I know I have a ways to go yet, but there is light at the end of the tunnel. The last few nights of barely sleeping and coughing all night long were really taking a toll.
So I hate being sick. But I got to see love in action while I was sick. My wife loved me through all those aches and pains. My wife loved her step daughter like her very own child as well. Because I was sick, I have an even deeper appreciation of my wife. I suppose I could say I was blessed with being sick.
I still hate being sick though.
Copyright 2006, Kevin Farley (a.k.a. sixdrift, a.k.a. neuronstatic)
Friday, February 10, 2006
"Every man needs a tractor"
We have a lot of projects to work on here at the farm. And the problem is, we simply did not have the right tools. We have major work to be done and we had no equipment. So we had been talking about getting a tractor for a few weeks. We knew we needed one and we were going to get one, but we did not know when or how.
So the other day, we just stopped in our local John Deere dealer and asked if they had any used tractors for sale. It just so happens that they were getting in a trade-in with only 60 hours on the engine. We came back the day it arrived to see it. It was the right size, the right horsepower, and available at a decent price. Not only that but it already had a bush hog rear attachment and a front end loader attachment.
It smelled of diesel fuel and had me mesmerized. And it was in the right color too: John Deere Green.
Anyway, this is all new to me. I never had a tractor before, or a reason to have one. So I relied on my wife for her evaluation. And after we talked it over, and I inspected the condition a little more closely, we signed the papers and scheduled the delivery.
So now we have a tractor. Of course, the wife thinks of it as a piece of equipment. I think of it as the biggest toy I have ever had :-)
The day it arrived, the guys unloaded and left. I had no manual, no experience, and no idea how to even get it started. So off to the Internet. I downloaded the appropriate manual and in a few minutes I had the basics down for starting the beast. After a quick read through the operations section I had the controls fairly well memorized.
So out I go with key in hand to have my first tractor driving experience. It was fun, it was cool, yeah I wasn't so good at first. But I am getting better.
Now the funny part. I was convinced that it would fit under the carport roof. My wife was not so sure. But since she wasn't around, I decided to try it out. It was just about 3 inches too high. It was obvious when it bent the aluminum flashing on the carport roof. So what comes next is obvious. This thing has a front end loader. I am sitting on dirt. Time to play.
So I dug my way into my own carport. I basically scooped out a few inches and then used the bucket to smooth it as best I could. It now fits. And there is even one half inch to spare.
Now just the other day our pastor stopped by to drop off my daughter who had been over to see his daughter. He saw our tractor and after we praised it for a bit, he said "every man needs a tractor." And the funny thing is, here on the farm, he is exactly right. Every man, and I must point out every woman as well, needs a tractor on a farm.
So we have a tractor and we both can operate it. I think my wife was a bit frustrated that I tried to hog all the driving time when we were moving the manure pile around. When you have horses, you have manure. Anyway, I know she is the better tractor operator of the two of us and has years more experience than I do. So I need more practice anyway :-)
I think maybe tomorrow there is definitely some rock or dirt that needs to be moved. In fact, I am sure I will find some. And when I do, I will think to myself, every man needs a tractor.
Copyright 2006, Kevin Farley (a.k.a. sixdrift, a.k.a. neuronstatic)
So the other day, we just stopped in our local John Deere dealer and asked if they had any used tractors for sale. It just so happens that they were getting in a trade-in with only 60 hours on the engine. We came back the day it arrived to see it. It was the right size, the right horsepower, and available at a decent price. Not only that but it already had a bush hog rear attachment and a front end loader attachment.
It smelled of diesel fuel and had me mesmerized. And it was in the right color too: John Deere Green.
Anyway, this is all new to me. I never had a tractor before, or a reason to have one. So I relied on my wife for her evaluation. And after we talked it over, and I inspected the condition a little more closely, we signed the papers and scheduled the delivery.
So now we have a tractor. Of course, the wife thinks of it as a piece of equipment. I think of it as the biggest toy I have ever had :-)
The day it arrived, the guys unloaded and left. I had no manual, no experience, and no idea how to even get it started. So off to the Internet. I downloaded the appropriate manual and in a few minutes I had the basics down for starting the beast. After a quick read through the operations section I had the controls fairly well memorized.
So out I go with key in hand to have my first tractor driving experience. It was fun, it was cool, yeah I wasn't so good at first. But I am getting better.
Now the funny part. I was convinced that it would fit under the carport roof. My wife was not so sure. But since she wasn't around, I decided to try it out. It was just about 3 inches too high. It was obvious when it bent the aluminum flashing on the carport roof. So what comes next is obvious. This thing has a front end loader. I am sitting on dirt. Time to play.
So I dug my way into my own carport. I basically scooped out a few inches and then used the bucket to smooth it as best I could. It now fits. And there is even one half inch to spare.
Now just the other day our pastor stopped by to drop off my daughter who had been over to see his daughter. He saw our tractor and after we praised it for a bit, he said "every man needs a tractor." And the funny thing is, here on the farm, he is exactly right. Every man, and I must point out every woman as well, needs a tractor on a farm.
So we have a tractor and we both can operate it. I think my wife was a bit frustrated that I tried to hog all the driving time when we were moving the manure pile around. When you have horses, you have manure. Anyway, I know she is the better tractor operator of the two of us and has years more experience than I do. So I need more practice anyway :-)
I think maybe tomorrow there is definitely some rock or dirt that needs to be moved. In fact, I am sure I will find some. And when I do, I will think to myself, every man needs a tractor.
Copyright 2006, Kevin Farley (a.k.a. sixdrift, a.k.a. neuronstatic)
Monday, January 02, 2006
Mawage
Mawage is wot bwings us togeder tooday. Mawage, that bwessed awangment, that dweam wifin a dweam...
Some of you may recognize this quote of the impressive clergyman from the movie The Princess Bride. The impressive clergyman had a highly pronounced speech impediment. But he had a heart for marriage and a romantic soul. Well maybe not. But why do I mention this? And why after several weeks of not posting?
Announcement time folks. I have recently married and I have been too busy to fiddle around online. Real life rules! And some times it gets REAL busy. So just in the month of December, I moved my kids and all my stuff from Texas to North Carolina. And on December 22, yes just 3 days before Christmas, I married my lovely bride Amy.
And wuv, tru wuv, will fowow you foweva...
And true love it is. This marriage and this arrangement was put together by God (I posted about it some months ago) and is true and deep love. And now we let the love overflow into our new family. This family is an amalgam (mercury-free) of the five dissimilar children from the two broken families. We are building a new life and a new family around Christ and in our love for God and our love for each other.
So tweasure your wuv.
And that is exactly what we intend to do, to treasure our family as a precious gift from God, given to two broken people as God has promised to do good things for His children. And as we have sought to keep our lives holy to God in all we do, we also seek to keep our family centered around God. We treasure this opportunity and we are thankful.
Have you the wing?
So now I am wearing a wedding band on my finger again. It feels good to know that its there. I know it is not any magic of the ring, or any other magic that keeps our marriage blessed and full of love. I know it requires work and dedication. And as we work to merge the two households into one (in terms of stuff), the two sets of kids into one (oy vey), and as we blend our lives completely together, we know that it takes both of us to make it work. As my uncle would say "hard work and sweet oil". I don't really know what sweet oil is, but it sounds good.
Man an' wife.
Today we are man and wife. But unlike the marriage (or is that mawage) of Buttercup to Humperdink, our marriage is mutually pledged and mutually bonded. I strive to be the servant leader of our home and my wife strives to be the loving helper in all things. We are a team, built on the scriptural model of marriage and working together for each other and our family.
We truly are man and wife. I think I will go kiss the bride now.
Copyright 2006, Kevin Farley (a.k.a. sixdrift, a.k.a. neuronstatic)
Some of you may recognize this quote of the impressive clergyman from the movie The Princess Bride. The impressive clergyman had a highly pronounced speech impediment. But he had a heart for marriage and a romantic soul. Well maybe not. But why do I mention this? And why after several weeks of not posting?
Announcement time folks. I have recently married and I have been too busy to fiddle around online. Real life rules! And some times it gets REAL busy. So just in the month of December, I moved my kids and all my stuff from Texas to North Carolina. And on December 22, yes just 3 days before Christmas, I married my lovely bride Amy.
And wuv, tru wuv, will fowow you foweva...
And true love it is. This marriage and this arrangement was put together by God (I posted about it some months ago) and is true and deep love. And now we let the love overflow into our new family. This family is an amalgam (mercury-free) of the five dissimilar children from the two broken families. We are building a new life and a new family around Christ and in our love for God and our love for each other.
So tweasure your wuv.
And that is exactly what we intend to do, to treasure our family as a precious gift from God, given to two broken people as God has promised to do good things for His children. And as we have sought to keep our lives holy to God in all we do, we also seek to keep our family centered around God. We treasure this opportunity and we are thankful.
Have you the wing?
So now I am wearing a wedding band on my finger again. It feels good to know that its there. I know it is not any magic of the ring, or any other magic that keeps our marriage blessed and full of love. I know it requires work and dedication. And as we work to merge the two households into one (in terms of stuff), the two sets of kids into one (oy vey), and as we blend our lives completely together, we know that it takes both of us to make it work. As my uncle would say "hard work and sweet oil". I don't really know what sweet oil is, but it sounds good.
Man an' wife.
Today we are man and wife. But unlike the marriage (or is that mawage) of Buttercup to Humperdink, our marriage is mutually pledged and mutually bonded. I strive to be the servant leader of our home and my wife strives to be the loving helper in all things. We are a team, built on the scriptural model of marriage and working together for each other and our family.
We truly are man and wife. I think I will go kiss the bride now.
Copyright 2006, Kevin Farley (a.k.a. sixdrift, a.k.a. neuronstatic)
Friday, December 02, 2005
Cat Prints
Cats are interesting and intriguing creatures. God must have really been laughing when He created cats. Cats can exhibit curiosity, fear, stubbornness, anger, determination, playfulness, and all other range of characteristics. When playing with a cat they can go from neutral to sadistic then to masochistic and end up disinterested in about 10 seconds. At times I think that they are part of the curse of a fallen world. At other times part of the blessing.
So my daughter decides to do her school science project on cats. Not just cats in general. She wanted to know if cats have "finger prints". We all know cats have paw prints, but she wanted to know if they have "finger prints" on their paws.
Now if you know anything about cats you know that you don't just walk up to the cat, ink their paw and press it on a piece of paper. First of all when the cat sees you coming to them without food they immediately assume the worst and make a run for it. After all, they know they are so obnoxious that humans would not voluntarily seek them out to play with them. So the chase begins.
Now once you catch a cat, what do you do? You have a twisting fur ball with a heart rate of something like 300 bpm that is trying to wrest itself free from your grasp. So it takes two humans to control one cat. Already this is a bad trend.
Well, suffice it to say, you can, with enough gentle... persuasion... convince the cat that you will not kill it in the process. Though you may kill it later as a result of the process and their reactions. However, eventually you can calm the cat down enough to take a paw print.
Now once you get the print, you are so relieved you release the cat. And off it goes, leaving one black paw print on your carpet. That is why you tell your daughter she needs washable ink because you foresaw this eventuality.
So then you look at the print. You got the paw pads, and fur, and smudges, and a scratch, and blood, and you need to get the cat for round two, then three, then... well, you get the picture.
In the end my daughter managed through this process and our two cats were no worse for the wear, though they both lost some fur in the process. It seems that when you freak a cat out, they tend to shed fur. I think they must have some kind of squid complex and try to leave a smoke screen of fur.
So her conclusions? Cats do indeed have some kind of finger print though she realizes that it would take thousands of prints to even begin to determine if they might be unique. And in typical kid fashion, she completed her display board the night before it was due. Some things never change I guess.
Still, I am glad that days of just doing a volcano are gone and the kids are encouraged to do something a bit different. I think I may convince her next year to do something that does not require bloodshed and live animals. Maybe she can do cold fusion :-)
Copyright 2005, Kevin Farley (a.k.a. sixdrift, a.k.a. neuronstatic)
So my daughter decides to do her school science project on cats. Not just cats in general. She wanted to know if cats have "finger prints". We all know cats have paw prints, but she wanted to know if they have "finger prints" on their paws.
Now if you know anything about cats you know that you don't just walk up to the cat, ink their paw and press it on a piece of paper. First of all when the cat sees you coming to them without food they immediately assume the worst and make a run for it. After all, they know they are so obnoxious that humans would not voluntarily seek them out to play with them. So the chase begins.
Now once you catch a cat, what do you do? You have a twisting fur ball with a heart rate of something like 300 bpm that is trying to wrest itself free from your grasp. So it takes two humans to control one cat. Already this is a bad trend.
Well, suffice it to say, you can, with enough gentle... persuasion... convince the cat that you will not kill it in the process. Though you may kill it later as a result of the process and their reactions. However, eventually you can calm the cat down enough to take a paw print.
Now once you get the print, you are so relieved you release the cat. And off it goes, leaving one black paw print on your carpet. That is why you tell your daughter she needs washable ink because you foresaw this eventuality.
So then you look at the print. You got the paw pads, and fur, and smudges, and a scratch, and blood, and you need to get the cat for round two, then three, then... well, you get the picture.
In the end my daughter managed through this process and our two cats were no worse for the wear, though they both lost some fur in the process. It seems that when you freak a cat out, they tend to shed fur. I think they must have some kind of squid complex and try to leave a smoke screen of fur.
So her conclusions? Cats do indeed have some kind of finger print though she realizes that it would take thousands of prints to even begin to determine if they might be unique. And in typical kid fashion, she completed her display board the night before it was due. Some things never change I guess.
Still, I am glad that days of just doing a volcano are gone and the kids are encouraged to do something a bit different. I think I may convince her next year to do something that does not require bloodshed and live animals. Maybe she can do cold fusion :-)
Copyright 2005, Kevin Farley (a.k.a. sixdrift, a.k.a. neuronstatic)
Tuesday, November 15, 2005
Turning 40
Well, I turned 40 years old the other day. I had for a long time been dreading that birthday. I had visions of waking up and not being able to move, needing a cane, and in general, just being old. I don't know why I thought that, but I did. I guess when you are 30-something seeing the "4" in front of an age is just scary. But I don't know why. It is just the way it is. So now I am in a new demographic bracket. Such is life.
Yet, this birthday was even more joyful than I ever imagined. It was joyful not because of any "things". It was joyful because of God's blessings on me this past year. Since I turned 39, my life turned completely upside down. A lot of the cruft in my life was sifted out. A lot of bad habits and bad ideas were put behind me. And in the end, I am still here, with my two dear children. I have no wife, but I have my kids.
And not only did I have my kids with me, but I also had one certain blonde woman that flew 1000 miles to see me on my birthday. That woman is my lovely fiancee, Amy. She is an awesome woman and I am a blessed man for having known her. I am so blown away by God in His blessings to me, I cannot begin to tell you all how wonderful I feel at 40.
This is all due to God's grace in my life. And He manifested a huge portion of it by blessing me with Amy, the most awesome, intelligent, wonderful, thoughtful, considerate, steadfast, loving, and affectionate woman I have ever known. Period. She is so beautiful, she is so loving, and I am overwhelmed to even try and tell you all about her.
Thank you Amy. Because of you, I don't feel 40. I feel much younger, and I am in love with you. With you, I am stronger, I am more confident, I am more of a man. Thank you Lord for your gift of Amy to me. I will cherish her all the days of my life.
I can say in all honesty, it is good to be 40.
Copyright 2005, Kevin Farley (a.k.a. sixdrift, a.k.a. neuronstatic)
Yet, this birthday was even more joyful than I ever imagined. It was joyful not because of any "things". It was joyful because of God's blessings on me this past year. Since I turned 39, my life turned completely upside down. A lot of the cruft in my life was sifted out. A lot of bad habits and bad ideas were put behind me. And in the end, I am still here, with my two dear children. I have no wife, but I have my kids.
And not only did I have my kids with me, but I also had one certain blonde woman that flew 1000 miles to see me on my birthday. That woman is my lovely fiancee, Amy. She is an awesome woman and I am a blessed man for having known her. I am so blown away by God in His blessings to me, I cannot begin to tell you all how wonderful I feel at 40.
This is all due to God's grace in my life. And He manifested a huge portion of it by blessing me with Amy, the most awesome, intelligent, wonderful, thoughtful, considerate, steadfast, loving, and affectionate woman I have ever known. Period. She is so beautiful, she is so loving, and I am overwhelmed to even try and tell you all about her.
Thank you Amy. Because of you, I don't feel 40. I feel much younger, and I am in love with you. With you, I am stronger, I am more confident, I am more of a man. Thank you Lord for your gift of Amy to me. I will cherish her all the days of my life.
I can say in all honesty, it is good to be 40.
Copyright 2005, Kevin Farley (a.k.a. sixdrift, a.k.a. neuronstatic)
Sunday, October 30, 2005
3... 2... 1... Contacts
I have had to do many things as a single father. Especially in regards to the education I have undergone when it comes to my daughter. Now being male, I tend to think I understand my son a lot better than I understand my daughter. I know that this thought is just an illusion, but I like to think I do anyway.
So the school did a routine check of my daughter's eyes and sent home a note that she needs to have her eyes checked. Well it could have been worse, it could have said she needs to have her head examined. Of course, I think I need my head examined now after just a few months at the helm of this single dad family. But back to the point.
I took my daughter to the place America goes for everything from motor oil to tooth picks and shotgun shells, Walmart. We were directed to an outside door I had never noticed before even though it was on the front of the building. I guess, since it was not one of the two main entrances, I just never noticed it. But here we were in a room in Walmart I never knew existed.
So the optometrist began to check her eyes. And she had to go further and further up the chart. Yep, it was amazing she could focus on the board at school at all. She definitely needed glasses. But she was insistent that she get contacts. That may be a problem.
My daughter has her mom's vision, but she has my eyes. Squinty. Neither of us can open our eyes very far and I know what is involved in contacts. So I suggested extended wear lenses so the amount of frustration would be kept to a minimum.
So we get her contacts and a starter pack of solution and drops. And we dutifuly go back into Walmart to the vision center for a free instruction on how to put the contacts in. This is where life takes a turn for the really frustrating.
Two hours. It took two hours for my teenage daughter to get these contacts in her eyes. She would try to hold her eyes open and as the contact came close, she would nearly spasm and blink until they would not go in. Over and over we tried. Again and again. Ad nauseum.
So finally we got the contacts in after I was finally frustrated and she had resorted to frustration and tears. It was either a growing experience for us both, or a shared bit of pain. Either fits :-)
So now she has contacts and she can see. It was worth if if my little girl can see. But oh the pain. And that does not even account for the cost. Oh the things we must do for our kids. She is worth it. But the next time she has to change those contacts, she will be on her own :-)
Copyright 2005, Kevin Farley (a.k.a. sixdrift, a.k.a. neuronstatic)
So the school did a routine check of my daughter's eyes and sent home a note that she needs to have her eyes checked. Well it could have been worse, it could have said she needs to have her head examined. Of course, I think I need my head examined now after just a few months at the helm of this single dad family. But back to the point.
I took my daughter to the place America goes for everything from motor oil to tooth picks and shotgun shells, Walmart. We were directed to an outside door I had never noticed before even though it was on the front of the building. I guess, since it was not one of the two main entrances, I just never noticed it. But here we were in a room in Walmart I never knew existed.
So the optometrist began to check her eyes. And she had to go further and further up the chart. Yep, it was amazing she could focus on the board at school at all. She definitely needed glasses. But she was insistent that she get contacts. That may be a problem.
My daughter has her mom's vision, but she has my eyes. Squinty. Neither of us can open our eyes very far and I know what is involved in contacts. So I suggested extended wear lenses so the amount of frustration would be kept to a minimum.
So we get her contacts and a starter pack of solution and drops. And we dutifuly go back into Walmart to the vision center for a free instruction on how to put the contacts in. This is where life takes a turn for the really frustrating.
Two hours. It took two hours for my teenage daughter to get these contacts in her eyes. She would try to hold her eyes open and as the contact came close, she would nearly spasm and blink until they would not go in. Over and over we tried. Again and again. Ad nauseum.
So finally we got the contacts in after I was finally frustrated and she had resorted to frustration and tears. It was either a growing experience for us both, or a shared bit of pain. Either fits :-)
So now she has contacts and she can see. It was worth if if my little girl can see. But oh the pain. And that does not even account for the cost. Oh the things we must do for our kids. She is worth it. But the next time she has to change those contacts, she will be on her own :-)
Copyright 2005, Kevin Farley (a.k.a. sixdrift, a.k.a. neuronstatic)
Monday, October 24, 2005
Things You Never Expect...
Or you ever want to see!
Well, I flew to NC over a week ago to see my dear future wife, Amy. It was awesome. We spent 48 hours together and it was not nearly enough time to be with her. We drove around the area. I met her parents. We had an easy, relaxing, and wonderful weekend together.
On Saturday we drove to a little town in SC. We stopped at a tack and feed store just to look around. That is the kind of shopping a horse addict does :-) And I think its wonderful and cannot wait to be married to this beautiful, loving, understanding, and crazy woman. She is crazy because she said "yes" to me,
While at this store, I bought a small bottle of Coke. One of the glass kind. The kind that needs a bottle opener. Now where I am from, we call those openers "church keys". I don't why, but that is just what they were called. So I asked the girl at the register if she had a "church key". She said "a what?" So I said "something to open this bottle with". She said "oh. I don't think so, let me ask".
She then turned to another teenage girl clerk behind her and asked "do you have something to open this bottle with?" The girl looked at us and said "prepare to be amazed."
Now when someone says "prepare to be amazed", you tend to think it is just bravado and they are just being silly. Oh, but now we come to the title of this post. This young girl was about to amaze us. She could not have been much more than 16. But she was about to prove her worth.
She takes the bottle from me and holds it up to her mouth. Then using nothing but her teeth she begins to remove the bottle cap. To counter the force and continue the removal, she then used her tongue to press against the bottle cap as she lifted it with her teeth.
Yes, we were amazed. Shocked actually. Slightly disgusted. But amazed none the less.
The first girl, who was thoroughly grossed out, said "they are not going to want to drink it now that you rolled your tongue on it." So this impressive bottle opener wipes down the open end of the bottle with the underside of her sleeve. Yes, basically her arm pit. I am not making this up.
So what do you do when things you never expect happen?
I did the most gallant thing a man could do. I said "Well I am amazed and impressed. I want to shake your hand." And I did shake her hand. The first clerk said "you're not going to drink that are you?" I responded in my manliest means possible, so as to not be shown up by a little girl, "if she is going to open it like that, then yes I am going to drink it."
So I did, I took the first big swig. I then handed the bottle to Amy. Who looked at me as if to say "I cannot believe I am doing this" but what she said was "well, you got most of the germs off of it anyway" and she tipped it up and took a swig.
Now how could you beat that?
Well I didn't want to try to beat that. But we did finish the botlle of Coke together. I think Amy did take the last drink, getting all my backwash anyway. So there it is. Things you never expect, and never really wanted to see.
I hope this is just a small sample of the fun, adventures, and good spirits that Amy and I will share together. I can handle all things with her by my side. I love you Amy.
Copyright 2005, Kevin Farley (a.k.a. sixdrift, a.k.a. neuronstatic)
Well, I flew to NC over a week ago to see my dear future wife, Amy. It was awesome. We spent 48 hours together and it was not nearly enough time to be with her. We drove around the area. I met her parents. We had an easy, relaxing, and wonderful weekend together.
On Saturday we drove to a little town in SC. We stopped at a tack and feed store just to look around. That is the kind of shopping a horse addict does :-) And I think its wonderful and cannot wait to be married to this beautiful, loving, understanding, and crazy woman. She is crazy because she said "yes" to me,
While at this store, I bought a small bottle of Coke. One of the glass kind. The kind that needs a bottle opener. Now where I am from, we call those openers "church keys". I don't why, but that is just what they were called. So I asked the girl at the register if she had a "church key". She said "a what?" So I said "something to open this bottle with". She said "oh. I don't think so, let me ask".
She then turned to another teenage girl clerk behind her and asked "do you have something to open this bottle with?" The girl looked at us and said "prepare to be amazed."
Now when someone says "prepare to be amazed", you tend to think it is just bravado and they are just being silly. Oh, but now we come to the title of this post. This young girl was about to amaze us. She could not have been much more than 16. But she was about to prove her worth.
She takes the bottle from me and holds it up to her mouth. Then using nothing but her teeth she begins to remove the bottle cap. To counter the force and continue the removal, she then used her tongue to press against the bottle cap as she lifted it with her teeth.
Yes, we were amazed. Shocked actually. Slightly disgusted. But amazed none the less.
The first girl, who was thoroughly grossed out, said "they are not going to want to drink it now that you rolled your tongue on it." So this impressive bottle opener wipes down the open end of the bottle with the underside of her sleeve. Yes, basically her arm pit. I am not making this up.
So what do you do when things you never expect happen?
I did the most gallant thing a man could do. I said "Well I am amazed and impressed. I want to shake your hand." And I did shake her hand. The first clerk said "you're not going to drink that are you?" I responded in my manliest means possible, so as to not be shown up by a little girl, "if she is going to open it like that, then yes I am going to drink it."
So I did, I took the first big swig. I then handed the bottle to Amy. Who looked at me as if to say "I cannot believe I am doing this" but what she said was "well, you got most of the germs off of it anyway" and she tipped it up and took a swig.
Now how could you beat that?
Well I didn't want to try to beat that. But we did finish the botlle of Coke together. I think Amy did take the last drink, getting all my backwash anyway. So there it is. Things you never expect, and never really wanted to see.
I hope this is just a small sample of the fun, adventures, and good spirits that Amy and I will share together. I can handle all things with her by my side. I love you Amy.
Copyright 2005, Kevin Farley (a.k.a. sixdrift, a.k.a. neuronstatic)
Thursday, October 20, 2005
It is not good for the man to be alone...
Genesis 2:18-24
18 The LORD God said, "It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper suitable for him."
19 Now the LORD God had formed out of the ground all the beasts of the field and all the birds of the air. He brought them to the man to see what he would name them; and whatever the man called each living creature, that was its name. 20 So the man gave names to all the livestock, the birds of the air and all the beasts of the field.
But for Adam no suitable helper was found. 21 So the LORD God caused the man to fall into a deep sleep; and while he was sleeping, he took one of the man's ribs [ i] and closed up the place with flesh. 22 Then the LORD God made a woman from the rib he had taken out of the man, and he brought her to the man.
23 The man said,
"This is now bone of my bones
and flesh of my flesh;
she shall be called 'woman, '
for she was taken out of man."
24 For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and they will become one flesh.
I think that is one of the most beautiful examples of God showing mercy and compassion for His children. God is the creator of everything and His ways are infinite. But He took the time to care for Adam and He individually crafted a helper for Him. And thus Adam had Eve.
Well if anyone has read my previous blog entries, you would realize that I am divorced with two teenagers at home full time. The more astute among you would also have picked up that it was not good for THIS man to be alone either. This past year has been difficult to say the least. But here we are surviving it. Yet we are not just surviving, we are in fact thriving.
God has taken compassion and shown mercy to this man. At a time when I was not looking for love, love found me all the same. And this love, was not found in worldly romance or traditional means. Instead, God used the Internet to bring us together. Yes, that vile object of hate and rejection, the Internet, can itself be used for God's purposes.
It was from posting on a Christian forum site in a thread on divorce that God gave a woman, herself hurting and raising kids alone, the gentle nudge to send me a simple email to say "thanks for your post". And God opened our hearts and our minds to each other. God allowed us to look past hurt, rejection, broken trust, and painful memories to allow ourselves to see love brought by God Himself. A precious gift to His children.
That is how I met Amy.
It is with shouts of praise to God and hallelujahs that I now have joy in telling you that what was once broken and undone, has by God been healed and made new.
After talking for quite a while, I flew to see Amy. I asked Amy to marry me. She said "yes" without hesitation. So I can happily say that we are officially engaged.
While I know the manner and timing of our wonderful news of our engagement will certainly cause some to pause and wonder, I ask that you look beyond what the world sees and says. Look with your hearts and take joy with us in this wonderful and awesome work of God in our lives.
It is to God's glory I want to sing hallelujah from the tops of mountains with all of my breath and all of my strength in adoration for God has been most merciful to me and my children.
Amy, I love you.
Copyright 2005, Kevin Farley (a.k.a. sixdrift, a.k.a. neuronstatic)
Monday, September 26, 2005
Super-Hero Usher Action
Yesterday I filled in for a missing usher at church. As I stood there handing out the service bulletins, greeting people as they came in the sanctuary, my daughter came in and sat down near where I was standing. She said "dad, you've got that super-hero usher action thing going". This cracked me up. I guess I never thought of an usher as an action figure.
But as I thought about this, I began to think about ushers in our church. It is not just handing out a bulletin and trying to point people to a row with enough available seats for their entourage. It is about serving God by serving people.
As a substitute assistant usher third class, all I had to do was hand out bulletins, take up the offering, smile a bit, and that is about it. No there is no title for usher other than just "usher". I just like to be funny.
I am reminded of the story of the 3 men laying bricks to build a new church. Someone asked the first brick layer "what are you making?". To which he replied "about $16 an hour, which is not too bad right now". Someone asked the second brick layer "what are you making?". To which he replied "I am making a living and keeping my family fed and in a house'. Then someone asked the third brick layer "what are you making?". To which he replied "I am making a cathedral! A house of worship for the only living and true God!".
So its not the job or the service that makes the difference. It is the attitude in doing it. And if our attitude is good and we do our best, then God is pleased.
man: What are you doing?
usher: I am ushing.
man: Oh.
usher: And in the process, I try to make your day better, greet you wiith a smile, provide you with assistance as needed, and I serve the only living and true God.
Thanks to all you ushers out there. Next month, I will be a "regular" usher and not a substitute usher third class. I will work on perfecting that "separate the bulletins extending hand with the proper number of bulletins and smile and say good morning" super-hero action.
Copyright 2005, Kevin Farley (a.k.a. sixdrift, a.k.a. neuronstatic)
But as I thought about this, I began to think about ushers in our church. It is not just handing out a bulletin and trying to point people to a row with enough available seats for their entourage. It is about serving God by serving people.
As a substitute assistant usher third class, all I had to do was hand out bulletins, take up the offering, smile a bit, and that is about it. No there is no title for usher other than just "usher". I just like to be funny.
I am reminded of the story of the 3 men laying bricks to build a new church. Someone asked the first brick layer "what are you making?". To which he replied "about $16 an hour, which is not too bad right now". Someone asked the second brick layer "what are you making?". To which he replied "I am making a living and keeping my family fed and in a house'. Then someone asked the third brick layer "what are you making?". To which he replied "I am making a cathedral! A house of worship for the only living and true God!".
So its not the job or the service that makes the difference. It is the attitude in doing it. And if our attitude is good and we do our best, then God is pleased.
man: What are you doing?
usher: I am ushing.
man: Oh.
usher: And in the process, I try to make your day better, greet you wiith a smile, provide you with assistance as needed, and I serve the only living and true God.
Thanks to all you ushers out there. Next month, I will be a "regular" usher and not a substitute usher third class. I will work on perfecting that "separate the bulletins extending hand with the proper number of bulletins and smile and say good morning" super-hero action.
Copyright 2005, Kevin Farley (a.k.a. sixdrift, a.k.a. neuronstatic)
Friday, September 09, 2005
Started The Ball Rolling
Ok, in my previous entry, I described the ridiculous book that my daughter checked out from her middle school library. If you are unaware, check my previous post. Anyway, I have now started the ball rolling to get something done about it.
After we had "meet the teacher" night in the middle school, O decided that it was a good time to approach the subject of that book with my daughter's teacher. So yesterday I wrote the teacher a very nice email that basically said I don't blame her (the teacher) for anything, I just wanted to make her aware of the situation. Furthermore I would like help in guiding my daughter in making better choices for reading assignments. I also wrote that I was going to pursue having that particular book removed from the library.
So now I am in the wait and see mode. We shall see what comes of this. I still presume that she did not know about the specific material or she had forgotten about it. I am not trying to find someone to point a finger at. I just want help in guiding my daughter to better reading material.
We shall see.
Copyright 2005, Kevin Farley (a.k.a. sixdrift, a.k.a. neuronstatic)
Friday, August 26, 2005
Oh My Word
My daughter brought home a library book today from public school. She went to the library and she has to always have an "accelerated reading" book checked out for her reading class. These books must be a certain level for their advanced reading.
The book my daughter brought home is called Stardust by Neil Gaiman. My daughter showed me some pages in this book that I could not believe. In fact this book contains sexually explicit material and was recommended to my 8th grade daughter by her reading teacher. She showed her teacher the book and her teacher's response was "This really is a good book.".
The book is set in the English countryside in the 20th century (I think). There is a thread in this book that involves a young man who cheats on his girlfriend and has sex with a witch's slave. Yes that is what I said, sex with a witch's slave. This was recommended reading for my 8th grade daughter. It is not just an allusion to sex. It describes it.
I have to forewarn you that this material is explicit but I am including a small part of it here. I have put the text in reverse video color. To view it,highlight the following block. The following is a direct quote from the book:
The book my daughter brought home is called Stardust by Neil Gaiman. My daughter showed me some pages in this book that I could not believe. In fact this book contains sexually explicit material and was recommended to my 8th grade daughter by her reading teacher. She showed her teacher the book and her teacher's response was "This really is a good book.".
The book is set in the English countryside in the 20th century (I think). There is a thread in this book that involves a young man who cheats on his girlfriend and has sex with a witch's slave. Yes that is what I said, sex with a witch's slave. This was recommended reading for my 8th grade daughter. It is not just an allusion to sex. It describes it.
I have to forewarn you that this material is explicit but I am including a small part of it here. I have put the text in reverse video color. To view it,highlight the following block. The following is a direct quote from the book:
There was a moment of hesitation, and then her mouth opened against his, and her tongue slid into his mouth, and he was irrevocably, lost.
He had kissed before, with the girls of the village, but he had gone no further.
His hand felt her small breasts through the silk of her dress, touched the hard nubs of her nipples. She clung to him, hard, as if she was drowning, fumbling with his shirt, with his britches.
She was so small; he was scared he would hurt her and break her. He did not. She wriggled and writhed beneath him, grasping and kicking, and guiding him with her hand.
She placed a hundred burning kisses on his face and chest, and then she was above him, straddling him, grasping and laughing, sweating and slippery as a minnow, and he was arching ad pushing and exulting, his head full of her and only her, and had he known her name he would have called it out aloud.
At the end, he would have pulled out, but she held him inside her, wrapped her legs around him, pushed against him so hard that he felt that the two of them occupied the same place in the universe.
This is erotic stuff even for an adult. Can you believe that is considered appropriate reading for a 13 year old girl? I can't. I have not decided what I am going to do. I have talked to my daughter and she has a good head on her shoulders. We shall be watching this situation as the year unfolds.
Copyright 2005, Kevin Farley (a.k.a. sixdrift, a.k.a. neuronstatic)
Copyright 2005, Kevin Farley (a.k.a. sixdrift, a.k.a. neuronstatic)
Thursday, August 25, 2005
Second Week Coming To A Close
As we come to the close of a second week of public school, I can now see things start to normalize. Also I remember my school days and I have to say things are much better in some ways, worse in others, and a lot of it was the same as I remembered it. One area of improvement for sure is in paying for lunch. Back in the old days, we had to exchange clam shells... Well not quite. But we bought individual lunch chips. Now my kids have PIN codes and the account is kept filled by credit card. I like that. Also an improvement is that high school here has A and B days with longer class times. The class times in my day were so short you could not get anything done really. I liket this new way. And when I was in junior high (we did not have middle school), we had rotating periods each week. I hated that.
As for those things that are worse, I will catalog them in this blog as I encounter them. For now the worst things are basically the academics. I don't like "teaching for the test", and I don't like that the level of academics taught is lower than what my kids were used to.
The other thing I have noticed is that the kids had it soft in home school. When they get pushed in PE to do more now, or they feel a little under the weather, they want to have a day off. That will NOT work. So in a good way, public school is forcing them to be less "soft", to have more fortitude. Definitely a good thing.
Stay tuned citizens. There are more updates in the coming months. But I think for now, I have said enough about this adventure.
Copyright 2005, Kevin Farley (a.k.a. sixdrift, a.k.a. neuronstatic)
As for those things that are worse, I will catalog them in this blog as I encounter them. For now the worst things are basically the academics. I don't like "teaching for the test", and I don't like that the level of academics taught is lower than what my kids were used to.
The other thing I have noticed is that the kids had it soft in home school. When they get pushed in PE to do more now, or they feel a little under the weather, they want to have a day off. That will NOT work. So in a good way, public school is forcing them to be less "soft", to have more fortitude. Definitely a good thing.
Stay tuned citizens. There are more updates in the coming months. But I think for now, I have said enough about this adventure.
Copyright 2005, Kevin Farley (a.k.a. sixdrift, a.k.a. neuronstatic)
Monday, August 22, 2005
First Week of Public School Post Mortem
So far the venture into the public school system has been less than stellar. I can't say this has been easy or rewarding. It has been nothing but a hassle and disappointing. Let me start with a recap of the road traveled thus far.
Those are the perspectives from me and both kids each of which have had 4 years of home school following private school. Are we being unfair? Maybe, so far they have had a much different kind of education. And I will add that the depth and level of private and home school curriculum and education far exceeds the public school system as demonstrated by this first week. We shall keep an open mind and see what unfolds in the following weeks.
Copyright 2005, Kevin Farley (a.k.a. sixdrift, a.k.a. neuronstatic)
- Made the decision very late in the spring to go public school
- Started the process by calling the school, found out that there is paperwork required - no surprise there
- Found out that my son can start taking 11th grade classes, but must take tests to get credits for 9th and 10th grade - 10 in all
- Found out that my daughter coult not just go straight to 9th grade as her birthday fell after the Sep 1 cutoff date
- Found out she could take tests (of course) to go for a year's advancement
- Signed up both kids for school
- Made several expeditions to get all shots and immunization in order - it cost me $65
- Finally secured all the medical stuff
- Kids took the tests
- Daughter did not pass
- Son passed some, needs to retake some others
- Neither took this seriously
- Signed up daughter for middle school the week before classes start
- First day of school, daughter's bus was late, she shows up at school, they have no record of her
- First day of school, son forgets which bus was his, has to call for help to get a ride home
- Bus continues to run late for daughter for 3 days - did not even show up on 3rd day
- Spent around 25 minutes on the phone with the man from the bus route supervisor's office that day
And finally they made it through their first week.
So there you have it, a 3 month long ordeal that I underestimated completely. This has been a rough summer. This has been a rough start to a school year. And while the kids do seem to like public school, they are already under-impressed with the academic instruction. So from their perspectives and my own, here is our take on the Texas public school system in our independent school district:
- The system is typified by chaos
- There are literally dozens of papers to be signed by the parents in the first week for redundant reasons
- The work is easy, almost to being ridiculous - my daughter colored a cow in 8th grade English class one day, then cut cows out the next
- School lunches are better than they anticipated
- The focus of classes has been stated to being centered on doing well on the standardized state tests
- Discipline is not totally broken down, but there is little respect for authority
Those are the perspectives from me and both kids each of which have had 4 years of home school following private school. Are we being unfair? Maybe, so far they have had a much different kind of education. And I will add that the depth and level of private and home school curriculum and education far exceeds the public school system as demonstrated by this first week. We shall keep an open mind and see what unfolds in the following weeks.
Copyright 2005, Kevin Farley (a.k.a. sixdrift, a.k.a. neuronstatic)
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