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When my family was much smaller and younger, we lived in a small Pacific Northwest logging community called Quilcene.  Now, one might read and so pronounce that name in a plain straightforward fashion like “kwil – seen.”  However, like almost all dialects of the English-speakers language, there are hidden sounds only the locals know about.  This is a sure fire way to identify outsiders (i.e. “people from not around here”).

Small Blue Boat Reflection in Port Townsend Harbor

Small Blue Boat Reflection

The local populace pronounces it “kwila-seen.”  It is the shibboleth (or is that sibboleth?) of the local dialect.   Fortunately, no one is killed over such a goof.  I believe the sound is correct and reflects the American Indian languages of the area (e.g. the Quilayutes).  It, after all, also being the name of the local tribe that used to inhabit the area.  (The Quil-a-cenes were later absorbed into surrounding tribes, most notably to the south on the Hood Canal in the Skokomish tribe.)  Unfortunately, some early English speaker’s attempt to Anglicize the word missed the short “a” and so we are stuck with Quilcene, which is much better than what the original American-European settlers of the area wanted to call it:  South Burlap.

Into this small community, my family settled.  My oldest son, Gareth, was a new-born.  A couple of years later, Cara, our oldest daughter was born at home.  Four years after, our youngest daughter, Julian, was born at home there too.  The locals quickly educated us on the correct pronunciation of the word.  This, along with learning that everybody was related to everybody else, was one of the most important lessons to learn in this small community.

Almost everyone in this community earned their living from the logging industry.  Those that didn’t were employed in some seafood related industry.  Oyster farms still do a thriving business there to this day.  Logging, however, will probably never be what it once was 25 and more years ago.  Our neighbor Bob was one of those hard-working loggers.

Bob was known for delivering firewood for many years around the Quilcene, Brinnon, Dabob areas.  He made a living doing the hard work of pulling out old trees, cutting them, splitting the cuts, and delivering it.  Most people relied upon wood heat to get through the cold, damp winters of Washington State.  “Bob the Woodman” was their main source for good dry wood.  Success at that allowed him to branch out into selective logging and clearing lots for people building homes along the curves of the Quilcene and Dabob bays.

Bob was a good neighbor.  Our properties joined one another on seven acres of wooded property.  Red Cedars and Douglas Fir inhabited most of the property.  This made a perfect play ground for my oldest two kids.  Of course, as conscientious parents, we were always careful to keep our eyes upon our kids.  Our oldest son had a habit of running off and disappearing from our presence.  This made us a little more paranoid than normal parents, if there are such things.

Seagull Reflection

Seagull Reflection

Despite our best vigilance, however, our son had a habit of wandering off.  This led to his getting into all sorts of mischief even before the age of five.  There was the time he showed up two blocks away across Highway 101 in his diaper standing in front of the local gas station.  There were the two separate occasions he discovered bald-faced hornets nests.  On the first occasion, he poked it with a stick.  He and his sister got stung.  On the second occasion, having learned from the first one not to poke it with sticks, he threw rocks at the nest.  He and his sister got stung.

As you can imagine, his penchant for exploration and getting himself into trouble only expanded as he grew older.  This explains his mother’s premature grey, his fathers premature baldness, and the slight twitch in the corner of both our right eyes.  Nature or nurture, whatever the cause, gets started awful early.  Too early in my book.  I think kids should be born educated and ready for the work force.  It would eliminate a lot of social problems.  Alas, but I’m not the Creator.  Good thing too, probably.  Giving birth to college kids would be incredibly painful for mothers.  And, how would you explain nursing?  “Come here, sweetheart!  It’s time for your lunch.”  “Aw, mom!  You’re embarrassing me.”

One of the advantages of raising your kids in a rural setting is that they learn so much by just being outdoors.  It truly is an amazing experience and opportunity.  I feel sorry for kids who grow up in the city and don’t know their way around a good wooded patch of ground.  My kids spent countless hours examining nature.  They learned a lot.

One time, my wife caught our oldest son, at about three years of age, exploring the biosphere of the upper canopy of the trees about 30 feet off the ground in his rubber boots.  He learned that, if he didn’t break his neck carefully descending the tree, his mother would kill him.  Another time, I taught my son about heat transference through convection with a steel burn barrel by telling him, “Don’t touch the barrel, it’s really hot”.  Then, he immediately tested my hypothesis by touching the barrel and getting a nasty blister on his hand.  Then, there was the time I took him to explore the mud flats of Quilcene Bay at low tide.  We were having the time of our lives seeing all kinds of tidal land creatures: hermit crabs, worms, clams, snails, and plant life.  About two-hundred yards from shore I suddenly realized he was barefoot.

“What happened to your boots?” I demanded to know.

“There way back there,” he pointed.

“Where?”

“Back there,” he kept pointing.

“How did they come off?”

“The mud took them off.”

I picked him up.  He still had his socks on but now they were as black as the mud of the bay and hung thick and wet about a foot down from his feet.  I held him out away from me as his socks swayed in the wind.

“Come on,” I said.  “Let’s go get your boots.  I think we’re done for the day.”

I reached down and pulled off his socks and then tucked him under my arm, carrying him like a sack of potatoes.  The extra weight made the mud pull on my boots too.  This was as much a father’s education as a son’s.

I looked down at him.  He was watching the ground pass underneath us.  “Did you have fun?” I queried.

“Yes,” he replied.  “I like the worms the best.”  He turned his head toward me and smiled.

“Of course,” I said and smiled back.

We found his boots stuck in stride just as he had left them.  The thought to stop and retrieve them or to put them back on again never seemed to occur to him.  I suppose he was too fascinated with the bugs and creatures and keeping up with his dad.

The problem with growing up in a rural setting is that property boundaries can sometimes be fuzzy.  Locals know one another and cross each others property almost at will.  Those really familiar with each other don’t even bother knocking on one another’s door.  They just let themselves in and yell, “Hello!?”  That’s country living for you.

This was difficult for my kids to learn also.  Our neighbor Bob had all kinds of fun equipment for a young boy to play on.  Gareth particularly liked the heavy equipment that would appear from time to time on Bob’s property.  He was always amazed at their size and imagined in his little mind what they could do.  One of his favorite pieces of Bob’s equipment was a skidder.  This is used by loggers to move logs around.  However, it doesn’t move anything when it’s batteries are dead because a 4 or 5 year-old boy was playing on it and pushing buttons.  It takes a long time to charge a skidder’s batteries back up.  Plus, it is not something Bob appreciated discovering when heading for the woods at 4 or 5 in the morning.

Broken Sand Dollar

Broken Sand Dollar

Bob had incredible patience with our son. I only heard him yell across our properties a few times, “Gareth!!”  By then, Gareth was almost always already home after we discovered that he had wandered off yet once again.  This let us know that our son had probably gotten into something.

As a logger, Bob had access to small seedling trees that were used to replant clear-cut areas.  Bob had a stretch of property on the opposite away from us that he decided to replant.  Good naturedly, Bob invited Gareth along to show him how trees were planted.  If they are not planted properly, they will die and the tree and one’s labor will be lost.  One must have a proper depth to the hole to make sure and get the full root system in the ground.  You don’t want any exposed root area.  Then, one covers up the roots.  However, the tap root needs to be as straight as possible, so a short, small tug is given on the tree when it is buried to help ensure this.

When investing in the life of the child, I believe it is important to give them, as much as is reasonable possible, exposure to many different things.  Who knows what will “take” in their little hearts and minds that causes them to decide to become a mechanic, doctor, nurse, plumber, lawyer, carpenter, or even forester.  Who knows the potential within the heart and mind of a child?

At the same time, who truly knows what is going on in those spaces?  When Bob returned from the woods the next day, he discovered that my son had pulled out all 100+ trees that he had planted with him.  Did they need to be recounted?  Did they need an “extra pull” to make sure they were straight?  Did they simply need to be removed because their place only appeared to be temporary?  We will never know, I suppose.  That’s a lesson we’ll never learn.

©Weatherstone/Ron Almberg, Jr. (October, 2011)

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10. You absolutely love the movie, “The Ten Commandments“.

9. You look really, really good in yellow.

8. You just went on a low cholesterol diet and didn’t want to waste all those eggs in the fridge.

7. You figure anyHoliday that starts with a “Good Friday” can’t be all bad.

6. You love to bite the heads off chocolate bunnies.

5. It’s a good time to check out your neighborhood church and not be noticed.

4. You have this bunny suit you love to wear, but are too insecure to wear it without a reason.

3. Even though you don’t know what it is, you really like the sound of going to a “Passion Play.”

2. You figured since Jesus went to all THAT trouble to make it to the first Easter, you’d give it a shot.

1. As a Christian you celebrate the resurrection every other day, why not Easter too?

Rude Awakening

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Ancient Times: The beginnings of the holiday started with a dissident tribe of pagans, later identified as a band of Republican Presidential Candidates.  At that time Hallmark cards were not able to use the modern techniques of printing such as inkjets and lasers.  Instead, the company used the blood of goats of dogs as primitive forms of ink.  To keep the locals unsuspicious of their capitalistic exploitation of the holiday they presented the dead animals as a sacrifice to Lupercalia.  Also the origins of dominatrix and sadomasochism are seen at this time when young men would use the hides to whip the infertile women of the town asking them, “Who’s yo’ daddy?”

Christianity: Now, let the pagans have their uncivilized fun and festivals, and who has to come along and ruin it? First, it was PETA blowing the whistle on animal cruelty.  Then it was the early Roman Catholic Church who was jealous that the most exciting holiday on their calendar was forty days of giving something up.  So, they adopted the holiday to have wild parties.  They gave the holiday the new name of St. Valentine’s Day.  Saint Valentine performed secret marriages and was known in certain Bishops’ circles as a master of Kama Sutra.  Later, he was sentenced to death for some oppressive reason.  Before his death he sent his lover a Wal-Mart Dilbert Card ($2.85) signed, “Your Valentine.”

Medieval: In medieval Europe, the people believed that the 14th of February was the day that birds selected their mates.  Hence the term “lovebirds.”  Wow, they sure were clever.  They couldn’t figure out how to cook meat, but they had time to think up witty phrases like, lovebirds.  The first card was officially sent at this time, a Hallmark fold out, ($3.50) from a prisoner in France.  The card was actually a cryptic message plotting his escape.  Unfortunately, the wife was flattered by the message of love and ignored the plan.  Later her husband was beheaded.

Victorian: Everything was mass-produced, and materialism killed the spirit of the holiday.  Oh the joys of the Industrial Revolution!  It turned the world into faceless masses, inspiring Ayn Rand novels, and in turn inspiring lots of college kids not to pursue a major in English.

Modern: Today children and lovers celebrate the holiday together.  Children give candy hearts either for the sugar high or a peck on the cheek behind Mrs. Weidlemeyer’s classroom.  On the other hand, lovers exchange chocolate hearts.  They become disillusioned, thinking that on that night, instead of performing the act of sex, they will delve into the art of making love.  Lovers fill every restaurant in town, leaving singles to make reservations even at the drive-thru line at McDonalds.

[author unknown]

lips-that-touch-liquor

Lips that touch liquor shall never touch mine!

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Despite never having adopted the metric system for day-to-day use, Americans are familiar with the basic units, like grams, kilograms, meters and such.  But when it comes to lesser known units we’re clueless.  To help the educational process along a bit …

* 1 millionth of a mouthwash = 1 microscope

* Ratio of an igloo’s circumference to its diameter = Eskimo Pi

* 2,000 pounds of Chinese soup = Won ton

* Time between slipping on a peel and smacking the pavement = 1 bananosecond

* 16.5 feet in the Twilight Zone = 1 Rod Serling

* Half of a large intestine = 1 semicolon

* 1,000,000 aches = 1 megahurtz

* Basic unit of laryngitis = 1 hoarsepower

* Shortest distance between two jokes = 1 straightline

* 453.6 graham crackers = 1 pound cake

* 1 million-million microphones = 1 megaphone

* 2 million bicycles = 2 megacycles

* 2000 mockingbirds = 2 kilomockingbirds

* 52 cards = 1 decacards

* 1 kilogram of falling figs = 1 FigNewton

* 1,000 milliliters of wet socks = 1 literhosen

* 1 millionth of a fish = 1 microfiche

* 10 rations = 1 decoration

* 100 rations = 1 C-ration

* 4 nickels = 2 paradigms

* 2.4 statute miles of intravenous surgical tubing at Yale University Hospital = 1 IV League

[author unknown]

Start Cola Early!

Start Cola Early!

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We just spent several hours observing teenagers hanging out at our local mall.

We came to the conclusion that many teenagers in America today are living in poverty.  Most young men we observed didn’t even own a belt; there was not one among the whole group.

But that wasn’t the sad part.  Many were wearing their daddy’s jeans.  Some jeans were so big and baggy they hung low on their hips, exposing their underwear.  We know some must have been ashamed their daddy was short, because his jeans hardly went below their knees.  They weren’t even their daddies’ good jeans, for most had holes ripped in the knees and a dirty look to them.

It grieved us, in a modern, affluent society like America, that there are those who can’t afford a decent pair of jeans.  We were thinking about asking our church to start a jeans drive for “poor kids at the mall.”  Then, on Christmas Eve, we could go Christmas caroling at the mall and distribute jeans to these poor teenagers.

But here is the saddest part…it was the girls they were hanging out with that disturbed us most.  Never, in all of our lives, have we seen such poverty-stricken girls.  These girls had the opposite problem of the guys.  They all had to wear their little sister’s clothes.  Their jeans were about 5 sizes too small!

We don’t know how they could get them on, let alone button them up.  Their jeans barely went over their hip bones.  Most also had on their little sister’s top; it hardly covered their midsections.  Oh, they were trying to hold their heads up with pride, but it was a sad sight to see these almost grown women wearing children’s clothes.

However, it was their underwear that bothered us most.  They, like they boys, because of the improper fitting of their clothes, had their underwear exposed.  We had never seen anything like it.  It looked like their underwear was only held together by a single piece of string.

We know it saddens your heart to receive this report on the condition of our American teenagers.  While we go to bed every night with closets full of clothes nearby, there are millions of “mall girls” who barely have enough material to keep it together.  We think their “poorness” is why these 2 groups gather at the mall; boys with their short daddies’ ripped jeans, and girls wearing their younger sisters’ clothes.  The mall is one place where they can find acceptance.  So, next time you are at the mall, doing your shopping, and you pass by some of these poor teenagers, would you say a prayer for them?

One more thing:  Will you pray the guys’ pants won’t fall down, and the girls’ strings wont’ break?

We thank you all,

Two Concerned Grandmothers

[author unknown]

Happy Eating Lard

Happy Eating Lard

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  1. I will not play tug-of-war with Dad’s underwear when he’s on the toilet.
  2. I will believe my owners when they tell me that the garbage collector is NOT stealing our stuff.
  3. I will not suddenly stand straight up when I’m lying under the coffee table.
  4. I will not roll my toys behind the fridge.
  5. I will shake the rainwater out of my fur BEFORE entering the house.
  6. I will not eat the cats’ food…before OR after they eat it.
  7. I will stop trying to find the few remaining pieces of clean carpet in the house when I am about to throw up.
  8. I will not throw up in the car.
  9. I will not roll on dead things: seagulls, fish, crabs, etc.
  10. I will not lick my human’s face after eating animal poo.
  11. I will resolve to remember that “Kitty box crunchies” are not food.
  12. I will not eat any more socks and then redeposit them in the backyard after processing.
  13. I will stop acting like the diaper pail is my very own cookie jar.
  14. I will not wake Mommy up by sticking my cold, wet nose up her bottom end.
  15. I will not chew my human’s toothbrush and not tell them.
  16. I will not chew crayons or pens, especially not the red ones or my people will think I am hemorrhaging.
  17. When in the car, I will not insist on having the window rolled down when it’s raining outside.
  18. I will remember that we do not have a doorbell.
  19. I will not bark each time I hear one on TV.
  20. I will not steal my Mom’s underwear and dance all over the back yard with it.
  21. I will not treat the sofa as a face towel or Mom & Dad’s laps.
  22. I will remember that my head does not belong in the refrigerator.
  23. I will not bite the officer’s hand when he reaches in for Mom’s driver’s license and car registration.

[author unknown]

Funny Santa Cartoon

Funny Santa Cartoon

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December 14, 2010

Dearest Dave,

I went to the door today, and the postman delivered a partridge in a pear tree.  This was a delightful gift!  I couldn’t have been more surprised or pleased darling!

With truly the deepest love,
Agnes

December 15, 2010

Dearest Dave,

Today the postman brought me yet another of your sweet gifts.  The two turtle doves that arrived today are adorable, and I’m delighted by your thoughtful and generous ways.

With all of my love,
Your Agnes

December 16, 2010

Dearest Dave,

You’ve truly been too kind!  I must protest; I don’t deserve such generosity.  The thought of getting three French hens amazes me.  Yet, I am not surprised–what more should I expect from such a nice person.

Love,
Agnes

December 17, 2010

Dear Dave,

Four calling birds arrived in the mail today.  They are truly nice but don’t you think that enough is enough?  You are being too romantic.

Affectionately,
Agnes

December 18, 2010

Dearest darling Dave,

It was a surprise to get five golden rings!  I now have one for every finger.  You truly are impossible darling, yet oh how I love it!  Quite frankly, all of those squawking birds from the previous days were starting to get on my nerves.  Yet, you managed to come through with a beautiful, valuable gift!

All my love,
Agnes

December 19, 2010

Dear Dave,

When I opened my door, there were actually six geese a-laying on my front steps.  So, you’re back to the birds again, huh?  Those geese are dear, but where will I keep them?  The neighbors are complaining, and I am unable to sleep with all the racket.  Please stop, dear.

Cordially,
Agnes

December 20, 2010

Dave,

What is with you and those stupid birds!?  Seven swans a-swimming!!  What kind of sick joke is this!!??  There are bird droppings everywhere!  They never shut up, and I don’t get any sleep!!!  I’m a nervous wreck!  It’s not funny you weirdo, so stop with the birds.

Sincerely,
Agnes

December 21, 2010

O.K. wise guy,

The birds were bad enough.  Now what do you expect me to do with eight maids a-milking?  If that’s not bad enough, they had to bring their cows!!  The front lawn was completely ruined by them, and I can’t move in my own house!  Just lay off me or you’ll be sorry!

Agnes

December 22, 2010

Hey loser,

What are you?  You must be some kind of sadist!!  Now there are nine pipers playing, and they certainly do play!  They haven’t stopped chasing those maids since they got here!  The cows are getting upset, and they’re stepping all over those screeching birds.  The neighbors are getting up a petition to evict me, and I’m going out of my mind!

You’ll get yours!
Agnes

December 23, 2010

You rotten scum!!!

There are now ten ladies dancing!  There is only one problem with that!  They’re dancing twenty-four hours a day all around me with the pipers upsetting the cows and the maids.  The cows can’t sleep, and they are going to the bathroom everywhere!  The building commissioner has subpoenaed me to give cause as to why the house shouldn’t be condemned!  I can’t even think of a reason!  You creep!  I’m sicking the police on you!

One who means it!

December 24, 2010

Listen you evil, sadistic, maniac!

What’s with the eleven lords-a-leaping?!?  They are leaping across the rooms breaking everything and even injuring some of the maids!  The place smells, is an absolute mad house, and is about to be condemned!  At least the birds are quiet; they were trampled to death by the cows.  I hope you are satisfied–you rotten vicious, worthless piece of garbage!

Your sworn enemy,
Agnes

December 25, 2010

The Law Offices of
Badger, Rees, and Yorker
20 Knave Street
Chicago, Illinois

Dear sir,

This is to acknowledge your latest gift of twelve fiddlers-fiddling, which you have seen fit to inflict on our client, one Agnes McHolstein.  The destruction of course was total.  If you attempt to reach Ms. McHolstein at Happy Daze Sanitarium, the attendants have instructions to shoot you on site.

Please direct all correspondence to this office in the future.  With this letter, please find attached a warrant for your arrest.

Cordially,
Badger, Rees, and Yorker

[author unknown]

Reindeer Helping Santa Claus

Reindeer Helping Santa Claus

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