A Soldier Story

A soldier is hiding out in the goats woods.

Do you see him?

How about now? (click to enlarge)

That is Soldier.  (I think.  Mr J got a better look and says it is.)  He was named by my oldest grand.  A very fitting name, indeed.  You see, Soldier only has one antler.  At first, we assumed he had lost it in battle with one of the bigger bucks that inhabit the woods.  Now, I'm not so sure.  Year after year, he appears, each time having only one antler.  We have seen him every year for at least five years.  Somehow, he manages to escapes the arrows and ammo of the winter hunts.

Before all the electric fence went up for the horses and goats, we had quite a herd of regulars.  We used to put cracked corn down where the goat shed now stands.  It was a perfect view from the living room windows.  Every evening, after dinner, our routine was to clean up the dishes, and then sit and watch the deer come out.

The most regular visitor was a young doe named Cookie, also named by the grands.  (Get it?  Cookie Doe?)  Every day, without fail, Cookie would come for her evening meal.  She didn't mind that we came out the door and yelled hello to her.  She would look up at us as we made our way across the porch to the chairs, and then return to her food.  I don't hunt, but I'm not opposed to hunting.  I do imagine, however, than any deer bagged in this area is certainly not one of ours! 

We see glimpses of deer quite often in the wood line.  Occasionally, we see them on this side of the fence, but mostly they stay in the front pasture.  After a rain, when the ground is soft, we see enough prints that it looks like the deer path hub out here.  We actually have a place in the woods were several of their worn paths cross.  Before the goats cleared the brush, the only way through our woods was using the deer's paths.

It's hard to say if Cookie comes back now, as she has no markings as distinctive as a one-antlered buck.  But, if you're a hunter, before you pull the trigger on that bow, see if she answers to Cookie.  And if she does...  Please, send her home. 

A Christmas Poem

I don't know where this poem originated.  It has been around the internet for quite a while.  Nonetheless, it is well worth rereading!

Merry Christmas to our service men and women.

We thank you!

The embers glowed softly, and in their dim light,
I gazed round the room and I cherished the sight.
My wife was asleep, her head on my chest,
My daughter beside me, angelic in rest.
 
Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white,
Transforming the yard to a winter delight.
The sparkling lights in the tree I believe,
Completed the magic that was Christmas Eve.
 
My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep,
Secure and surrounded by love I would sleep.
In perfect contentment, or so it would seem,
So I slumbered, perhaps I started to dream.
 
The sound wasn't loud, and it wasn't too near,
But I opened my eyes when it tickled my ear.
Perhaps just a cough, I didn't quite know,
 Then the sure sound of footsteps outside in the snow.
 
My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear,
And I crept to the door just to see who was near.
Standing out in the cold and the dark of the night,
A lone figure stood, his face weary and tight.

A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old,
Perhaps a Marine, huddled here in the cold.
Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled,
Standing watch over me, and my wife and my child.
 
"What are you doing?" I asked without fear,
"Come in this moment, it's freezing out here!
Put down your pack, brush the snow from your sleeve,
You should be at home on a cold Christmas Eve!"
 
For barely a moment I saw his eyes shift,
Away from the cold and the snow blown in drifts.
To the window that danced with a warm fire's light
Then he sighed and he said, "It’s really all right,
I'm out here by choice. I'm here every night.
 
"It's my duty to stand at the front of the line
That separates you from the darkest of times.
No one had to ask or beg or implore me,
I'm proud to stand here like my fathers before me.
My Gramps died at Pearl on a day in December,"
Then he sighed, "That's a Christmas Gram always remembers.
My dad stood his watch in the jungles of Nam,
And now it is my turn and so, here I am.
I've not seen my own son in more than a while,
But my wife sends me pictures - he's sure got her smile."
 
Then he bent and he carefully pulled from his bag,
The red, white, and blue... an American flag.
"I can live through the cold and the being alone,
Away from my family, my house and my home.
 
"I can stand at my post through the rain and the sleet,
I can sleep in a foxhole with little to eat.
I can carry the weight of killing another,
Or lay down my life with my sister and brother.
Who stand at the front against any and all,
To ensure for all time that this flag will not fall.
So go back inside," he said, "harbor no fright,
Your family is waiting and I'll be all right."
 
"But isn't there something I can do, at the least,
Give you money," I asked, "or prepare you a feast?
It seems all too little for all that you've done,
For being away from your wife and your son."
 
Then his eye welled a tear that held no regret,
"Just tell us you love us, and never forget.
To fight for our rights back home while we're gone,
To stand your own watch, no matter how long.
For when we come home, either standing or dead,
To know you remember we fought and we bled.
Is payment enough, and with that we will trust,
That we mattered to you as you mattered to us."

Monochromatic Morning

 Our first snow of the season fell last night.

I love waking up to a world I've missed for months!

This black and white view waited outside my bedroom door .

The bare trees seem even darker against the pure white snow.

The valance over the kitchen sink is trimmed in crystal drops.

They appeared more like icicles this morning!

At a different angle, you would have seen the smoke,

billowing up from the outdoor boiler...

a sure sign that winter is near.

Though the snow was light,

the sead heads bowed in respect

of this symbol of winter.

The paling green of a willow bush

peeks through the tender reeds.

Here, you see the willow is losing its battle,

succumbing to the shorter days and chillier nights.

The horses don't notice the temperature dropping.

Their furry coats have grown plush,

insulating them from the brisk air.

Dear Anonymous,

I will no longer be allowing anonymous comments on this blog.  For an explanation, click HERE.

Comment Spam... Ugh! a.k.a. Dear Anonymous

I don't know if you've noticed or not...  Your comments used to post immediately, but now they have to be moderated.  Seems a few bad apples spoiled the bunch again.


Yep, those spammers got me really annoyed!  When I'd read the comments to my posts, there would also be some ad for a male enhancement prescription.  Do they really stir up business this way?

It started out with an occasional ad, but now it's gotten to be a daily thing.  They've hit all three blogs!  And it's not just the male enhancement products anymore.  Everything from thyroid medicine to arthritis drugs have been linked to in my comments.  So I'm pulling the plug.

I hate to do it, but I'm blocking anonymous comments.  I have friends that comment without logging on, and some that don't have an account.  I used to look forward to the anonymous comments.  Most often they were from people I knew.  But now I've reached my limit.  No more anonymous comments.  At least for a very long while.  I'm hoping that by blocking them, they will get deleted from whatever computer generates them.  (Though I'm doubtful the spammers will ever go away.)

Note: Anonymous friends, please feel free to e-mail your comments to me.

The Bengal Barn Revisited

Well, here it is!  Remember back in the middle of

November when I posted 1-2-3 First Down?

This is the infamous Bengal Barn where it all takes place...

This past Sunday we went there to watch the Battle of Ohio.  Mr J, his son and I are the only Browns fans there.  There is one Steelers fan that is married to a Bengal fan.  In the corner is a big screen topped by a smaller TV.  There are other smaller screens lined up on both sides, plus one by the food area.  You never have to miss a play.  You can even see one screen from the bathroom!

The facilities are somewhat primitive... Notice the urinal on the right?  The TP holder matches the arms on the throne.  Bengal stripes are everywhere!  Check out the bar stools...

The half time baby shower was going on, so the main corner cleared out.  Notice the front row seating?  Yep, airline seats.  There's another set behind the bar.  I'm surprised they haven't yet been reupholstered in Cincinnati colors.

Aside from the creature comforts, it's a lot like a tailgate party!  There's always lots of hot food, salads, snacks and desserts.  (My step-son is the tall guy in the only Browns jersey, as if his height didn't make him stand out enough.) 

Here is a great view of the main TV area...

Hope you're enlarging some of these to check out all the Bengal paraphernalia on display.  See the Bengals onesie hanging to the right of the white cabinets in this next shot?

 

My DIL's mom has had it hanging there, waiting until the day DIL had a baby to put it on.  Since she's due in January, she gets to take it as soon as the season is over.  However, once Brady outgrows it, it goes back on the wall!

Here's a good shot of pregnant DIL and the airliner seats....

As I mentioned earlier, there was a baby shower during half time... a Bengal baby shower!  Despite how much it hurt, the group also respected Daddy's team.  Here are some throws they made for Daddy and Mommy's cuddle time with Brady...

Daddy's throw is folded up here.  They made it 7' long for him!

I wonder how Mommy and Daddy are going to decide what Brady wears...

Of course, babies need lots of blankies...

They apparently didn't want to buy any more Cleveland Browns material and went with a generic fabric in the Cleveland colors.  They also made little hats in these patterns.

I have to admit...  it was the most fun I've ever had at a baby shower!  But hey, shove the gifts back in the bags... the third quarter is starting!   Uhhhh.... 1 - 2 - 3 FIRST DOWN!

(Note:  Mommy has definitely ruled out Quinn as a middle name!)