The Fragility of Life

I opened my last post by saying it had been a hectic couples of weeks here on the banks of the Cedar. To add to the misery we also had a medical crisis strike our new brother in law Steve.

It seems that Steve had been battling acid reflex and hernia for some time and it was decided that he would undergo laproscopic surgery to correct the problem. This is normally no big deal for most people but for Steve it turned into major surgery and a weeks stay in the hospital. A few days after being released Steve was rushed to the hospital with internal bleeding and underwent hours of emergency surgery and after being infused with 100 units of blood his survival was in doubt. After a few hours in ICU he was scanned again in hopes of finding the source of the bleeding and then it was back into surgery where the doctors eventually removed his stomach in hopes of saving his life. At one point the doctors told Lisa that they were now working outside of the medical books as they try to figure out how to close his wound and wean him from a ventilator. He is still not out of the woods and as they work to battle infections he will surely spend the next several months in the hospital. Our prayers are with Steve and Lisa.

If anyone should find themselves in a similar position and they want to keep friends and family appraised of the condition of a loved one there is a web service out there that operates somewhat like a blog that lets you post updates about a patients condition and allows friends the opportunity to send messages of support. The web site is called Caringbridge and has been an important connection between family and friends during this ordeal.

Views from the Garden

Top: Clamatis. Lower: Columbine

Prayers for Parkersburg

Our hearts and prayers go out to those in the town of Parkersburg that were affected by this week ends tornado.

Photos Here (Thanks Rick)

Decoration Day 2008

We walked among the crosses

Where our fallen soldiers lay.

And listened to the bugle

As TAPS began to play.

The Chaplin led a prayer

We stood with heads bowed low.

And I thought of fallen comrades

I had known so long ago.

They came from every city

Across this fertile land.

That we might live in freedom.

They lie here 'neath the sand.

I felt a little guilty

My sacrifice was small.

I only lost a little time

But these men lost their all.

Now the services are over.

For this Memorial Day.

To the names upon these crosses

I just want to say,

Thanks for what you've given

No one could ask for more.

May you rest with God in heaven

From now through evermore.

C.W. Johnson

Trapped like a rat

Yesterday I found myself coupled to the face of the back overhead garage door. “Coupled?” you ask. Yes, there is no auto opener on our back garage and once it is in open mode closing it demonstrates several of Newton’s laws of inertia and mass. It takes considerable force to transition the mass of the door from its resting position. To accomplish that, the general procedure is to grasp the ¾ inch gap between the first and second panel and forcefully pull in a downward motion. Once the door is in motion its weight and the force applied ensures a smooth decent to the closed position.

However, as anyone familiar with overhead door mechanics knows, the gap is a fleeting apparition as the panels make their trek to the full and upright position. With dexterity, a normal person can adjust hand position before that gap disappears encapsulating the tips of aforementioned fingers. As I realized that the critical gapage was fast encasing said fingertips the speed and weight of the door was at first surprising. “What the…” I said moments before the painful realization that I was trapped like a mouse in a trap.
As time and space seemed to slow like a scene out of “The Matirx” my mind, in a split second of lucidity, pondered a way to extricate myself from the situation. If anyone should find themselves in such a similar position I offer the following procedure. Step A: Yell “god damn” at the top of your lungs. This has two purposes. It alerts a loved one that you are in need of assistance in the event that Step B is unsuccessful and it also alerts the adrenal gland to supply a sufficient injection of hormone to yank free the set of digits of your dominate hand. Step B: With that parital victory you will momentarily regain your composure long enough to slow the motion of the descending door. Step C: With your one free hand and one foot (foot choice is optional here) you can reverse the direction of travel a sufficient distance to retrieve your now purple appendages. Step D. Install a frigging handle on the door before you smash your fingers.

This has been a public service announcement from the CR Salmon. “Enduring life’s pains, so you don’t have to.”

I'm Back.

*You ever notice that bloggers that don't post for a while always start off with that Terminator line?

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*It is hard to believe that a month has passed since I last posted something here. It became evident when I struggled through the second round of exams that I had let my performance slip a tad and some adjustments were needed. I.e. there is a positive correlation between reading and test scores. So for my regular readers I know you are wondering “Whats up?”

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*My application at the College of Education was rejected. Of course they don’t tell you why but I can’t help but believe that being a non-traditional student (code for old fart, (O.F.) wasnt a factor. Throughout the whole process I was met with the same question of “Are you a graduate student?” “No… undergrad I reply,” immediately followed by the raised eyebrow of skepticism and a look of what the hell are you doing here? So the path to a diploma required a change of direction and not having a big window to complete this dream (O.F. remember… could drop dead at any moment) I will pursue a poli-sci minor and worry about the teacher certification later.

Not being entirely familiar about the workings of the university system I had another minor setback that needed addressed. When I was accepted to the U. I inquired about the foreign language requirement and was told by admissions that because I was an OF that requirement would be waived. Woohoo cut the OF some slack. Come to find out the University admissions requirement was waved but the College of Liberal Arts would never think of waiving their graduation requirement no matter how friking OF you are. “College of Liberal Arts” the name should have been a tip off. I worked my way up the food chain seeking some sort of relief but as I pled my case to one dimwitted academic after another I was sure I was the convict in "The Shawshank Redemption" asking the warden to reopen his case. The last advisor stared at me dumbfounded and just couldn't comprehend the time restraints that an OF is working under or why I didn't need this aggravation. All involved were every bit "Obtuse" as the warden. So we now move on to plan C. or D if forget now. I refused to learn Spanish on philosophical grounds so I will spend the summer taking ASL back at my old Alma mater, Tall Corn College and Technical Institute then take two more semesters of it at the U.

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*Enough about me…..

*We lost Aunt Toni to cancer on April 8Th. As anyone who has ever dealt with what she called “a terrible disease with treatments as terrible as the cancer itself” knows it is wrenching to watch someone as bright, funny, unselfish and caring as Tony struggle toward the end. She will truly be missed by us all.

*As the previous post noted Arwen turned five on Tuesday and is ready to graduate preschool and move on to kindergarten. It is hard not to be proud, as her mom always points out she is such a mini-me… For those of you that that are shaking your heads out of sympathy for her, cut that out! She has been blessed with her moms brains and signing talent and my Carsonesque sense of humor.

*Finals week is winding down, the honey do list is growing beyond any realistic possibility of completion, and plans have been laid to attend Oshkosh in July. So it’s time to roll out the camper, fill the mini fridge and let the summer begin.

Happy Birthday Arwen Grace!

The big 5.0! My how you have grown...

Love Dad

Happy Anniversary Baby

I want to take this opportunity to dedicate this song to my sweetheart on the occasion of our 6th Anniversary. OOOOO I Love YOU.

Back to School Week

*Sorry to say that Christmas break is over and Spring Semester started yesterday. I am looking forward to this term though because unlike last semester when I endured four history courses I have a little variety in this new schedule. One American History Pre 1800 and Educational Psych. Plus two Poli Sci courses, (Foreign Policy and Political Behavior) I hope I can keep my mouth shut in discussion and not be ostracized for my less than liberal views. That doesn't really happen does it?

*Caution, Crass Self-Congratulations Ahead!....

Last semester was the first at the big school after receiving an associates degree from Tall Corn College and Technical Institute. I was sure that I was drowning the first two months at Iowa, (isn't educational water boarding illegal?) Things gradually began to click and I ended the Semester with a 3.52 gpa and a spot on the deans list. Woohoo!

This Old Shack

Just before Christmas I was informed that I had won a thousand dollars in merchandise at a local home improvement outlet. Visions of new power tools danced in my head but of course a saner head prevailed and I found myself loading a grand worth of laminate flooring and all the fixins into the truck for our dining room and den.

I have to admit, everything I know about construction has been gleaned by a lifetime of Saturday mornings hanging out with Norm Abram. I have over the years accumulated enough equipment to tackle most any project and have done everything from finishing the basement in our Anchorage home to remoldeling the kitchen in the current Salmon Shack. These projects always have a way of growing beyond original expectations. "How bout fresh paint, how bout new trim, how bout a crown molding, how bout.....". So for the past week I have been doing my best to keep this little project on schedule and I have to say that thanks to Norm the room is looking great.

The Christmas Story

According to Luke:

In those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered. This was the first registration and was taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria. All went to their own towns to be registered. Joseph also went from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to the city of David called Bethlehem, because he was descended from the house and family of David. He went to be registered with Mary, to whom he was engaged and who was expecting a child.While they were there, the time came for her to deliver her child. And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.
In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, "Do not be afraid; for see--I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger." And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying, "Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom he favors!"When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, "Let us go now to Bethlehem and see this thing that has taken place, which the Lord has made known to us."
So they went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the child lying in the manger. When they saw this, they made known what had been told them about this child; and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds told them. But Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart. The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, as it had been told them.

Winter Fun in the Flatlands

The gods (or God for my monotheists friends) were evidently angry here in eastern Iowa this week. Last Sunday I had just finished writing a term paper for American History and was working on a 15 page paper on World War I aviation for my history colloquium when my six month old laptop had a stroke. At first horrified, I sprang into action to revive the dying patient, but to no avail. Stunned and amazed I then went through all five of the steps of grieving.
Monday I grabbed the bull by the horns and spent the day at the PC reconstructing the History paper that was due on Tuesday. That gave me three days to do the same with the WWI paper. No Sweat!!!!
But nooooo! An Iowa ice storm rolled through town and Tuesday morning the Salmon Shack went dark when the local electrical grid also stoked out. Being without electricity is normally no big deal. We have back up heat, I had plenty of beer in the house, and I made a tent in the den for my daughter to have a camping adventure. I once spent two years in an Alaska cabin with wood heat, no plumbing, and no TV so living pimitivley is not a problem, but by day two things began to get a little desperate. Fifty percent of my grade relied on this one paper! Oh the humanity!!!
On Wednesday the lady that lets me live with her called me down off the roof where I had stamped out "HELP US !" in the snow, and gave me a couple good face slaps. "Get a grip you idiot and take down that "Where's FEMA?" sign in the front yard!" she yelled.
I went out to my old Alma Mater, Tall Corn College and Technical Institute, and spent the afternoon in their computer lab to begin reconstruction process on the term paper.
By Wednesday night the lights were back on and tragedy was averted. The paper was turned in on time on Friday, the "Geeks" gave the laptop hard drive an upgrade and salvaged a semesters worth of work. But most importantly, a new snowfall covered up the "help us" sign on the roof.

Some catching up to do.

Busy Busy Busy.... I was able to get the last of the windows replaced before the weather turned frosty. The fire wood project turned into a family affair as most of the wood I was able to scrounge this summer was too long to fit the splitter. While I ran the saw to shorten them up the wife ( bless her heart) loaded logs into the splitter and our daughter ran the power handle. A good time was had by all.
Lucky Find....The woman that lets me live with her got it in her head that the next project on my list would be to remove the 1970's carpet in the bedrooms and install laminate flooring. Knowing the best way to get a job done around here is to do it herself she pulled back the carpet in one of the rooms and low and behold the bedrooms of this shack have hardwood floors. Except for the fact that the last carpet installer had a party with the hammer tacker in our daughters room, which required a couple hours on hands and knees pulling staples, the floors are in great shape. Another job well done.
Continuing Education....Made it through mid terms with flying colors and with the exception of one American History paper that earned an 83, I have aced the first half of the semester. The remainder of the term will be focused on two research papers and a couple book reviews. Piece of cake between now and finals.
A conspiracy of objectivity....I wrote a few weeks ago that the liberal indoctrination in college you hear so much about has been surprisingly absent here at the U, but since I wrote that I have decided that it not that it doesn't exist but instead it flows just below the surface and occasionally, subtly, bubbles to the top. "Is there any comparison between the Alien and Sedition Act of 1798 and the Patriot Act" Our TA asks with a slight grin. When no one offered to bite on her obvious hook she tried to move on. Not being able to leave it lie I thrust my hand in the air in an Arnold Horshack moment and asked if she thought there was a parallel... Since she brought it up. "I can't answer that, that's it for today" she replied dejectedly. LOL
In the World Civ discussion we were to discuss the psychology of a historical figure. The first name suggested by the TA was George Bush with the same little grin of the last TA. Again no one would bite.
It's VJ Day you moron !!!!! In what has to be the latest in politically correct historical revisionism the Professor in my World Civ lecture said "World War II ended in two stages VE day Victory in Europe and VA day" VA I says what the hell is VA? Evidently reading my mind she then added "Victory in Asia" HUH??? Who the hell ever called it VA day? Even a Google search doesn't turn up a VA day although an equally insidious VP day shows up in Wikipedia (Victory in the Pacific). Lets try to keep a little historical accuracy in how the people of the times interpreted the events whenever the evidence is clear and leave the PC crap out of it.
She also went on to state that the Russians were the victors in Europe and the US was the victor in the Pacific. Although I would argue that is hardly accurate at least it is debatable.
Editorial morons.... I just want to thank the editorial decision makers at the Cedar River Rag for taking the opportunity to run an anti war, bush bashing polemic on Veterans Day! I have already reduced my subscription to week ends only and that's just a heartbeat away from severing the final tie to the newspaper bidness.

Just keeping the head above water.

It has been a busy few weeks here at the Salmon shack. Classes at the "U" began just about a month ago and I have been working in overdrive ever since. A quick update...
It took about a week to realize that we ain't at Tall Corn College anymore Toto. The workload the first four weeks was a little daunting. This may be somewhat Darwinian but I think they have a plan to kill off the weakest and I do have to say that class sizes were suddenly smaller this week.
In between cramming several hundred pages of material a week into this mushy head, attending lectures,and commuting down I-380 t0 Libsburg I have had to fit in the rest of this thing called life.
After two winters here at the Salmon shack we decided to replace the windows before the Iowa snow flies this year. That little project is about half done. Come to think of it, its progress has quickly reached the same completion level as the other six projects in the pipeline, but I don't think the woman that lets me live here will allow this one to slide.
One week end was spent making a couple minor repairs to the camper and getting it cleaned and winterized for its long winter nap. And lastly, four days were spent in Madison, Wisconsin for my sister in law's "I Do's".
Just a word about the wedding. The procession began with the minister, victim and his entourage entering the sanctuary followed of course by the brides crew. Next down the aisle was the flower girl who was adorable and performed her duties to perfection. ( OK it was my daughter so I can be a little doting.) Fast forward... Standing hand in hand before the minister the guests were expecting the wedding to precede when suddenly two screens dropped from the ceiling of the sanctuary and there Eric Idol in his role in "The Princess Bride" regaled the audience with "Marriage...." I think everyone was at first was a bit stunned, then the laughter began and all tensions ebbed from the event. Fantastic and Congratulation Steve and Lisa.
Mid terms are in a couple weeks and its all down hill from there. Then all I have to do is get the rest of the windows installed, the firewood cut, and ..........

Pepper Jack Update

As I mentioned previously, we are now the owners of a deaf Jack Russel Terrier. As you can see from the picture Pepper has settled in and made herself right at home. She is a lovable little pup, constantly under foot and has started to show some of the intelligence of the Jack Russel. We hung a bell on the back door and in a matter of days she was ringing it with regularity to go outside. I would say we are having a 90% success rate in the house breaking department. She is very tolerant of our daughter (unless chewing up every toy that is left at her level is some display of passive aggresive behavior) and she is submissive to our big dog. So far so good.

Back To School

Back to School... It's time to leave the summer fun behind and hit the books. School began on Monday and the adjustments to the U will be interesting. Most notable is the size. Where I had became comfortable dashing a hundred yards between classes at Tall Corn College and Technical Institute, distances are now measured in blocks. Class sizes that were in the low thirties are now measured in hundreds. Today there were few students on campus as I made my way from parking to my first class at 8:30. By 9:30 the place had come alive and from the air it must look like thousands of ants scurrying helter skelter from one hole to another. From a park bench along the banks of the Iowa River you can see the towers at the University Hospital (pictured), I doubt that they are ivory but the Gothic architecture certainly leaves that impression.

Weather Ramblings.

The thermometer mounted on the garage has a portrait of a moose on the face, more appropriate to Alaska than Iowa and because it faces the morning sun the dial has been pegged out so many times that the indicated temperature is about 20 degrees above actual. So in keeping with the use of heat indexes and wind chill factors I have termed this discrepancy the moose factor. How the present Iowa temperature would feel to an Alaskan moose stuck in the flat-lands.
There has been the usual carping about the weather this week as the temperatures have hovered in the 90's. Those that tend to whine the loudest expierience it for only a short dash between the air conditioned car to the air conditioned building and back again.
Perhaps I have grown callous to the weather whining having lived in Alaska where if you waited for perfect weather you would never do anything. I don't mean to downplay the actual dangers associated with severe weather, but our definition of extreme, on both ends of the thermometer, has been expanded as we have become so averse to any sort of discomfort or danger in our lives. We have replaced common sense and vigilance with fear and paranoia and want to go through life at optimum conditions (sunny and 70) and in a cocoon of safety.
I can recall as a kid spending sweltering summer nights camped in the back yard, even when the late evening thunderstorms rumbled through. Parents would never allow such behavior now. Our local TV is preempted by competing meteorologists that are whipped into a frenzy at the first sign of a towering cumulus and sirens urge us into our basements even when our skies are blue and actual weather events are miles and miles away. In winter, school cancellations begin with the first forecast of snow and in my last two winters here I have not yet witnessed a snowfall that would have prevented the buses or the teachers from getting to school. Heaven forbid a trek to the bus stop in the snow.
So we all complain about the one thing that we cannot control, but more importantly we fear it. Fear it’s too hot, fear it’s too cold, fear it might rain or snow, or worst of all many have bought into the fear that mother earth has a fever.

The Newest Member of the Salmon Family

Ten years ago I was introduced to the Jack Russel Terrier breed at a friends Mat-Su Valley (Alaska) cabin and I was immediately bowled over by their brains, brawn, and brashness. This sturdy little dog would dash fearlessly back and forth in front of the snow machine until its owner would stop so he could hop on the gas tank and go for a ride.

The night the dog stayed at my place while his owner and my girlfriend went out on the town, he waited patiently at the bottom of the stairs by the front door for her return. As I passed the stairway I told him I was going to bed. He tilted his head as dogs often do whenever they are processing a word like ride or walk and dashed up the stairs and into the bedroom of a house he had never been to before. A few hours later, a minute before I heard the car pulling into the driveway, he bounded from the bed to meet his returning master at the door.

Later that year I met another Jack on a fishing boat in Cordova. This little guy had the run of the boat, and the docks evidently, and when he would come out of the cabin, the skipper would yell at him to close the door. He would rear up on his hind legs and hit the door with his front paws. He would rarely close the door completely on the first hit and in what appeared to be a game between the two, the skipper would yell "close the damn door" and the little Jack would turn around and hit the door with all his might until the job was done.

I was hooked and I soon found my Jack at a breeder in Kenai. "Yukon Jack" who the vet thought had "too big a name for such a little dog" was everything you would expect in a Jack Russell.

While going through obedience class it was obvious he had the heart of a big dog and to prove it he had to show the Labs or Shepherds in his class who was boss. It became a battle of wills between us and after finishing his intermediate class I asked the trainer what we should do next. She sympathetically asked why I wanted to continue to do this to myself. When I persisted she recommended that I try a class with a gal that trained Rottweilers.

After struggling and sweating through the first class, which Yukon found to be a target rich environment, the trainer asked if I would mind staying after class for a few minutes of private instruction. She sat her musclebound Rotty in the middle of the room and walked Yukon slowly towards a dog that could easily devour him in a single gulp. At the instant that Yukon bolted from the heel position she corrected him with a tug on the choke collar that for the first several times flipped the little guy head over heels. When it was my turn I was sure his little head would pop off his neck like a grape from the vine, but by the end of the class he was heeling in perfect form. Eventually we would develop an understanding. He would let me be the boss, when the mood suited him. We spent many great times together and Yukon eventually went on to learn to bring in the morning paper. After a time I was actually able to read it when it made it into the house.

Sadly though, Yukon was never able to come to terms with the arrival of our daughter. In spite of the suggestions about introducing a Jack to a baby, Yukon was obsessed with the squealing wiggling tyke that to him was just a little varmint that he and his kind are bred to do battle with. By the time she started gaining her own mobility it was obvious that one of them had go. That was about three years ago and Priscilla, our lab chow mix has been our only canine companion until this past week end.

The woman that lets me live with her has been pining of late for a puppy or a baby and the later is not bloody likely. So last week-end we scoured the countryside for a new Jack Russel.

Finding that special pup would not be easy. It had to be unique, a term I can't explain but I know it when I see it, and it had to possess some of the same qualities that I admired in Yukon. Some breeders we visited were legitimate dog lovers and others merely trying to make a buck. But none were as lowly as the farm we visited just outside of Rowley, Iowa where we eventually found our pup. Living in flea infested squalor, we would have taken all four of the pups huddled in the big wooden crate if we had let our emotions get out of hand. Instead we chose a unique little pup with what appears to be the blue merle markings of an Australian Shepherd and piercing blue eyes that look like agates.

It was shortly after arriving home and getting the poor thing a flea bath and a dose of worm medicine that my wife picked up on the fact that the little pup is deaf. I knew that some purebreds, Jacks included, have a propensity for genetic deafness but standing in that dank little shed the clues to the affliction, the white coat, blue eyes, and white albino like nose, never crossed my mind. My first reaction was to take her back to the farm but the wife wasn't about to the let the old guy wring its neck. We would keep her. On Monday the vet gave her shots and a clean bill of health and wished us luck in our endeavor to raise a deaf pup. After investigating the situation we have discovered that this is not unheard of and there are techniques for handling her problem.

I'm sure there will be challenges ahead with Pepper Jack, but it can be no worse than those I had with my little pal Yukon.


Yukon and Silla. Waiting to make the first move.

It's Good to be Home Again

Just a short post to report that the Salmon Family Vacation is over and that we had a wonderful time.
As reported last week the plan was to be on the road at the crack o dawn. With the truck loaded with supplies and the Coachman secured to the bumper we eased the craft from the hanger at 0h 700 hours and prepared for take off. In one of Bill Engvalls "Here's your sign moments we stopped at the neighborhood gas, food, and beverage establishments for ice. The gentleman at the counter asked "Are you heading out?" " No sir," I replied " we always like to stock up on 50 lbs of ice just before we get home." Here's your sign.
We made our way east through the rolling Iowa farmlands, across the Mississippi and into the madness of the Chicago tollway system. In a matter of hours we had reached our destination just outside Michigan City, Indiana, on the shores of Lake Michigan.
Our friends from Michigan arrived a few hours later and we spent a wonderful week dining, touring, and sitting around the campfire late into the evening, making smores and chatting away the hours.
A good time was had by all and of course a few tears were shed when we finally had to say goodbye.

Summer Vacation

I don't know why I think of this movie everytime I hook up the camper for a long trip. Me and the woman that lets me live with her actually travel pretty well together as long as I drive and she is giving the directions. Travel and moving has been such a big part of our life the past six years that it has become second nature, and our daughter has logged more miles than a long haul trucker it seems.

So, tomarrow morning at the crack 'o' dawn we will be heading east to meet friends from Michigan for a week on the shores of the lake that they call Mishigami.

"The Long, Long Trailer, stars Lucy and Desi as an upwardly mobile couple who decide to buy a trailer for their vacations. Thanks to their naivete in such matters, they end up with a huge, bulky RV that costs five times what they planned. Their "seeing America" trip turns out to be a slapstick disaster...
... The story is told in flashback, as Desi 'splains the breakup of his marriage to a motel court manager."

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