mdtaylor

So, dad goes out to get his newspaper this morning and comes back in with a flyer that someone had left in the mail box. "Baby Sitter, Ninth Grader, I love to babysit, Live just around the corner, $8 per child." That's where things started to go bad. "I wonder how much for older folks," I asked dad. He didn't seem to think that was amusing.

Actually high humidity and light rains have unusual but very good results on the art. Only heavy rains have a detrimental effect on them.

http://autos.yahoo.com/photos/dirty-car-art-slideshow/ I may never wash my car again.

Because my son was probably at work and shouldn't have been texting anyway. Besides, it wouldn't have made near the story.

Here is an old one I don't think I ever posted here. November 15, 2010 Recently my son of 24 years asked me the heritage of my biological parents. Now you have to understand, the technology generation that my son grew up in required him to text the question to me rather than use a conventional telephone. Instead of picking up the phone and hearing me answer in my usual round the bush diatribe, he texted me the question. Of course, having received the query via text message I felt obligated to answer using the same medium. Never mind the fact that I still use a cheap, bottom of the line, first time newbie phone that only has a telephone keypad on it (after all, it IS a telephone, right?) and not a full QWERTY keypad (I’ll bet he has no clue what THAT is!), and he knows this, I still felt obligated to attempt to fit 20 minutes worth of ramblings into that little 1 x 1.25 inch screen. Suddenly, I found myself searching feverishly for which of those 12 keys would produce the “=” symbol. You see, having found out that my ramblings simply would not fit on that screen I opted to simply send him a URL to the family tree on Ancestry.com That is a wonderful thing, Ancestry.com, although sometimes I wonder if it simply allows some unsuspecting nitwit (me) to put far too much information into the hands of identity thieves. They say that they hide all information about living persons, and it does seem so. Still, that is a lot of information on the web about my family even if a Great Grandpa seems to have just appeared in Texas with no apparent previous history to be found. Maybe they did not keep prison records very well back in them days. Anyway, having found a complete barrier to sending him a text message back with a URL to the family tree I decided it would be easier to send a link to the main site with a notation that he would have to search the database for my entry. Well again I found myself then looking for the “_” symbol. Darn cheapo phones. Someone told me just yesterday that I need to get a new phone. He even had a name for it, although it escapes me at present. It would connect to your laptop with one of those USB cables and allow your laptop to access the internet over the phone. I don’t need to get a new phone for that. That’s the way I do it now anyway. So I finally ended up sending him the information but had to use the word ‘underscore’ in place of the “_” symbol. As it were he must have needed the information real fast because he sent a message back immediately that asked “What nationality?” Well I could see I was not going to get anywhere with getting him to do any research on his own so I finally just sent him what he wanted. My text back to him contained just the requested information. “Moravian.” Within 5 minutes I get another text message from him. “Never heard of it.” So much for a college degree… So here is the information you requested, Son. I hope this fulfills your requirements and arrives to you within the allotted time that you needed. My Great Grandfather, Anton, was born in 1861 in Freydek-Mistek, Moravia which, at the time was obviously a part of Austria. It was he who migrated to the United States because he married my Great Grandmother, Johanna (born 1866) in Fayette County, Texas in 1884. Now, since Johanna was born in nearby Zabreh Nad Odrou, Moravia she also migrated to the US. The story has it that they both arrived in the States about the same time but on different ships. Johanna and her family (Peter and Rosina Stavinoha) was in one ship bound for Corpus Christi (I think) but a plague there cause the ship to dock at an alternate port of Victoria, which at the time was on the coast and not inland as it is today. Near that same time Great Grandfather Anton fled his country for reasons unknown (that’s an author’s way of saying he really does not want to disclose the facts of the matter) and bought his passage on board a ship bound for the States as the servant of another family. And, he did so under a forged passport. This part we know to be true because my Aunt, who recently left us, has guarded that passport throughout the years and has preserved it in the family treasures. Well, Great Grandfather Anton’s ship was bound for Galveston yet some catastrophe in Galveston caused this ship to dock at its alternate port as well, Victoria. It is unclear to me at this point if they met in Victoria or if the individual families both moved inland first to the settlement near Somerville and met there. Regardless, the Great Grandparents (mine, that is) married in Fayette County, Texas. Back to Moravia. Although at the time it was part of Austria, it bears stating that the European states seemed to wander about aimlessly about the era of the various world wars and I really don’t know myself what political subdivision claimed Moravia in the ensuing years. But, looking at the maps of Austria the area labeled as Moravia appears quite close to some country called Poland. So, I guess you could say we are simply Polaks. Personally, I prefer the mystery of Moravian, hence my text message to you. And by the way, son, the Great Grandparents appear to both have the same Grandparents themselves. That explains a lot, actually… Copyright, 2010

November 7, 2011 First, my apologies for the extreme delay in getting this version to press. It has been six months since this was started and I am just getting it finished. So, just imagine going back in time…. This past weekend was the opening day of deer season here in the great Lone Star State. And, as the dutiful son that I am I took my dad hunting, on the very property on which he was born eighty six years and five months ago. For those of you that would rather opt for the short story, we didn’t see anything. Nothing. Nada. Zero. Zilch. The big goose egg. The weekend started a day later than anticipated due to a surprise audit on Thursday. It was uneventful but it did throw us a day later getting off. I knew that on arrival I would have a ton of water pipes broken in need of repair and needed to arrive in the morning to get a good start. One thing I could not tolerate is not having water in certain appliances in the cabin. Of course, I didn’t anticipate all of the parts necessary so we had to make a trip into Centerville for one lousy fitting. Now, I don’t know about you, but I simply cannot walk into a hardware store and purchase a fifty nine cent fitting and walk out. I just have to purchase enough that the sale justifies a credit card purchase. The new pipes would have to be insulated so we added ten dollars in insulation to the tab. Then on the way to the door I spot some deck screws that I thought would work better than nails on that step that needed fixing thanks to my best hunting buddy. And it required a torx driver instead of a typical Phillips driver so there is another eight. And because I am so unorganized I could not find my plastic pipe cutters. Another twenty. Finally after I am satisfied we would not be short any supplies we headed back to the ranch. Pipes at the well house repaired we headed up to the cabin to turn the water on. Darn…water pouring out of the wall under the sink. Out comes the sink, sheetrock, and insulation revealing not one, but two half inch cpvc pipes split. Luckily I have just enough fittings to repair those leaks, but to my dismay once the water was back on there was another just out of sight. Now we are headed into Buffalo because Centerville closes up a noon on Saturday. It took me a couple of days to realize that the day was Friday and we could have gone back into Centerville, a much closer trip. Now that the water is repaired we headed out to the spring where I constructed dad’s deer stand several years ago. It is a four by eight stand with an eight foot ceiling and an eight step stairway going up to it. We have to replace a step right up around number seven. Simple and easily done with a couple of hours to go before we head back, watch a movie, and turn in. However, about five or six months ago I gave up my Direct TV due to economic reasons. I mean, I was seldom going up there these days and it was just not practical to keep paying for something you do not get much chance to enjoy. So, I replaced the satellite system with a DVD player, which would have worked just great had I remembered to bring some DVDs. A quick search through dad’s truck turned up two movies. Transformers and Sky High. I think another trip into Buffalo is in order. Hunting comes early on the Taylor ranch. Most of the time that is. I give the elderly a couple of more minutes. After a good hearty breakfast of bacon and eggs (I won’t mention that we both have heart and cholesterol problems…) and bundling up following the drastic dip in temperatures overnight (it is now 44 degrees) we head out to the spring stand for our first morning of hunting. We filled the feeders up about two weeks ago and the kids hunted last weekend (one of the kids shot a doe at this very stand) and it appears that the feeder is empty, but it still had corn on the ground. So we stuck it out, for about an hour after daylight. At that point dad just couldn’t take the cold any longer. I can understand that. As you age you simply lose muscle mass, and therefore the natural body insulation that keeps you from freezing. So we left and headed back to the cabin for snacks and a nap before lunch. As dad slept most of the afternoon I contemplated the evening hunt. I fiddled around with this and that. Fixing some things and intending to fix others. Watched those DVD’s yet again, and generally lounged around waiting on the opportunity to try my luck again out in the deer stand. When the time finally arrived to get ready to go out I woke Dad up and mentioned something about getting ready. Well, he didn’t want to go out this evening. He just thought he would sleep the afternoon away and let me go out on my own. Well this presented a little bit of a problem since he is just now getting to that time in his life that I really do not want leave him alone. It’s not that he is dangerous or anything. I’m just starting to get a little uncomfortable with some of the little things he says and does. It just makes me think I’d rather keep an eye on him. However, against my better judgment and his edging along I finally agree to go out this evening and leave him asleep in the cabin. After all, we are in the middle of the ranch. He has no place to go and no transportation if he was so inclined. I felt the risk was minimal so I went hunting alone this evening. I’ll just skip all the nonsense about not seeing anything yet again. Suffice it to say that this evening’s hunt was uneventful. It was when I returned back to the cabin that things got interesting. Dad was no where to be found. It’s not like he could be hiding in the cabin, there’s only two rooms. A quick scan outside did not reveal his whereabouts either. But, I need to strip down out of these hunting clothes so I can perform a thorough search. Luckily just as I open the door to exit the cabin to start my search there he is, on his way back from the neighbors. I say neighbor. It is my cousin, his nephew’s new place. Well, that is the last time he gets left alone, even for a moment. I’ll just chalk it up to lessons learned. As morning arrived we were up early with a hearty breakfast eaten. We headed out to the ‘far’ deer stand and arrived just in time to see the sun crest on the horizon. A little late in the scheme of hunting, but considering the age of my current hunting partner it was just in time. We got settled in quickly and patiently waited for that monster buck with the atypical rack with the drop tines. Just then I hear it… Tap, tap, tap… Now as some of you know, I am just a little hard of hearing. Ok, a LOT hard of hearing. Even with hearing aids it is sometimes difficult for me to distinguish near sounds from far away sounds. There it is again. Tap, tap, tap… Wait a second, I thought to myself. That is rhythmic tapping. Almost as if tapping to music. I look around and sure enough there is dad tapping out the Navy song on the butt stock of his rifle. Shhh! I can remember when he was doing that to me. Again, I have become my dad. So with the tapping subdued I am back to listening and scanning the tree line for the subtle hint of a deer looking out into the clearing as if to see if it is safe. Then out of the corner of my eye I see movement. As I slowly turn my head to the right I see dad raising his gun and easing it out of the window. Scanning the trees I look anxiously for his target but see nothing. As he moves his gun left and right I then realize he was using his gun scope to scan the clearing. Argh. Use the binoculars, dad. Now that I have his gun back inside the stand he lays it across his lap and get comfortable. Now, I don’t know about you but to me comfortable is the gun in the gun rack and me leaned back in a recliner taking it easy. No wonder he is beat after only an hour in the stand. I don’t think I could sit ‘at attention’ with a gun in my lap for several hours. And, for safety sake you really have to be completely alert if you are going to have a gun in your lap all the time. It’s just a safety thing. Relax dad. Put your gun in the rack and relax. After being in the stand now for about fifteen minutes, I’m getting just a little bit on edge. Dad is moving around like a teenager and seems to me making enough noise to run the deer off from even the neighbor’s deer stand. Now he is whistling. Not really whistling like those prisoners of war that built that bridge over the River Kwai or anything, but the sort of silent whistling like snare drum imitations. Shh! Finally I hear it. “I’m ready to get out of here.” I sort of ignore it for a minute or two. Two whole minutes. Complete silence. It is the quietest that he has been since we arrived. Now he’s quiet. But I figure the damage has already been done. It is time to go. I don’t think he actually came he to go hunting anyway. This is his home. He was born here and some day he will return here for his last trip. He’s earned the right to lead the way and decide how long we hunt and when we go visit with his sister. We pack it in for the day and spend the rest surveying the area just looking around the countryside. It comes time to head back home. Neither one of us brought enough medicine to last more than the four days we have now been here. So we pack it up to head back home being especially careful to drain all the water pipes in the cabin to hopefully prevent a repeat of this years water pipe fiasco. Those of you that know me, know well enough that I do fib on occasion. Not often mind you, but today I pulled one over on you. We did see something. On day three we saw a family of hogs pass by on the way to who knows where. And on day four, as we were approaching the exit gate on our way home, there it was. A nice doe waving at us as if to say “Thanks for playing. Ya’ll come back now, ya hear?” If only deer could laugh. It sure would have made hunting a lot easier this year. Copyright 2012. http://excerpts-from-the-book-of-life.blogspot.com/

I have good intentions. Honda Goldwing.

Use the "More Reply Options" button below the post window. Scroll down below that new window and you will see a text box to enter the file name. It has a paper clip icon next to it. When you click on it (or hit the browse button) a file search window pops up so you can select the file you want to include in your post.

Why is that? Is (s)he a Copperhead?

I see nothing in KY law that requires the minister to reside within the state. (Statutes Last Updated July 22, 2011) Just read ALL of the KY law so you will know your responsibilities. I wouldn't bother with the county clerk. They cannot give legal advice. However, they can help you with the procedures to follow that will pretty much you do not break the procedural law regarding marriages.

In order to call oneself a minister one should remember that 'minister' is also a verb.

I fear that you came to the forum yielding a sword when an olive branch would have served your purpose better.

Not in any church I have known or been involved with. While at first the recognized pastor may be the one to organize a church invariably (discounting televangelists) the church always elects a governing body who then manage the affairs of the church. The pastor manages the congregation and facilitates the activities. Eventually, the pastor is merely a hired position. At least that is the structure I have seen in my experience.

On Earth. What about elsewhere. If God is everywhere then what about other worlds, other suns. Did God create all the suns all at the same time? And gee...only humans wrote about it...

My full time job is taking care of my 85+ year old father. I have many part time hobbies. Firearms dealer Amateur radio RC Aircraft Volunteer Firefighter Volunteer EMT etc. etc.

So, my baby gets married this past weekend. It was a beautiful ceremony in a magnificent church. Everything went smooth. But right at the crucial moment, while looking deep into the eyes of the pastor he says, "I Stephen take you Allison..." And while pointing towards the bride the pastor quietly says "You might want to tell her that."

The degrees offered by ULC Seminary are different than those offered by ULC.NET and ULCHQ.COM Only Murph can answer this with certainty. But, the IAA is not recognized by the US Department of Education, etc.

Geez, what is this world coming to? http://omg.yahoo.com/photos/britney-spears-gets-festive-slideshow/britney-spears-photo-1336417181.html

There's always the 'ignore' button.

A 'must have' is the Star Book for Ministers.

http://games.yahoo.com/blogs/unplugged/amazing-multidimensional-sculptures-rotate-world-222135246.html I could only hope to be so talented...

It's in the FAQ

It's not a fabrication. His mind believes what it believes. I would not discount that in the least.

I've seen people die. Most of the time their eyes are closed. They didn't see anything. They imagined it.

http://gma.yahoo.com/blogs/abc-blogs/nude-maid-draws-police-scrutiny-texas-city-121105855--abc-news-topstories.html Just thought it was creative thinking on the part of young entrepreneurs.