Still Covered Up in Work

And that is a good thing!

My freelance services has finally started to materialize into something and for that I am more than grateful. But, as with any success, it has trade-offs and the one's here are that I simply don't have time for much of my blogging at the present. But that is fine as well. Things will work themselves into a new routine and all will be as it should again.

Plan This Year for Next Year...

Vegetable Gardening Tips

By: Nicky Pilkington

With the costs of living rising all the time, it may be possible to save money and increase your family's health at the same time by growing vegetables in your backyard.

It's a good idea to choose your favourite vegetables to grow and plan beds for early, middle of the season and late varieties.

Most vegetables require at least 6 hours of sunlight per day, some need 8. Some quick growers like lettuce and radish can be grown between the rows of plants that take longer to mature, like beet or corn, thus making full use of the area available.

Throughout dry periods, vegetable gardens need extra watering. Most vegetables benefit from an inch or more of water each week, especially when they are fruiting.

During the growing season watch for insect pests. If you discover a bug problem early it will be much easier, but be careful to not use pesticides once the vegetable are close to being picked unless it becomes an absolute necessity. Organic gardening is one healthy and environment-friendly option. Once you have reaped your crop, put the vegetable waste into your compost pile so that it can be recycled for next spring.

It is important to protect your vegetable garden from wild animals looking for a tasty treat. Make sure your garden is surrounded by a fence that will keep out dogs, rabbits, and other animals. The harm done by wandering animals during one season can equal the cost of a fence. A fence also can serve as a frame for peas, beans, tomatoes, and other crops that need support.

Protection is needed in order for your vegetable garden to yield a bountiful harvest. Hard work will pay dividends if necessary precautions have been made.

Author Resource:  Find more about gardening and some useful gardening tips at About Gardening

Article From Write Harbor

Still at it.

Staying as busy as I can stay it seems. Going to haul calves off to market next week. Hadn't planned on selling them this early but there is so little pasture, I am afraid to keep them would walk them backwards in their growth. Culling open cows, too. Will probably end up with three cows and one calf left after it is all done and told. Oh well, better than none I reckon.

Cry Havoc! And Let Go the Dogs of War...

9/11/2005 (Revisited)

I remember that morning like it was yesterday. I will always remember the intimate details of it; the sights, the sounds, the smells. It was the day that the world changed forever.

I was married at the time and had stepped down to our pond to try and catch a mess of fish for supper. I had several nice ones in a bucket when I heard her call to me that breakfast was almost ready. I pulled out for the house with my pole and bucket in hand, stopping to sit in a chair on the porch to remove my wet boots. The windows were open and the radio was on and I half-listened, half-ignored the announcer talking about a plane crash in New York. I remember thinking that it was only a matter of time before something like this was going to happen. Sooner or later some pilot was going to screw up and hit one of the massive buildings jutting up out of the ground across America...the numbers were just with it.

I went inside and turned on the television and they had a live feed of the events going on. It was just about then that the second plane hit. And my heart broke. God help us all. My eyes clouded with rage, pain, fear, sorrow and a thousand other things all at once as a tear ran down my cheek. In that instant, through all my years of training in the military, I instinctively knew that we were at war. My wife asked me what was wrong and I couldn't find my voice, or my stomach, to tell her what I already knew. I just stared at the screen in silence and disbelief.

As I tried unsuccessfully to choke down the meal she had prepared, I watched in horror as first one and then the other tower crashed to the ground. And I prayed out loud where I sat. I prayed for those in and around the towers, but more than that I prayed for my friends that I knew would soon be placed in harms way once again. Their faces and names raced through my mind; I bet he re-enlisted, he's not retired yet, either...

I got up from the table, walked out the door and pulled my wet boots back on. I picked up the bucket of fish by the steps and walked past the flag flying at the front gate towards the pond. I remember thinking as I turned those fish loose that there had been enough killing for one day. I turned the bucket upside-down, took a seat on it and thought about all that had just happened and was going to happen. It was probably one of the saddest, most helpless feeling times in my life.

I often find myself on the US Army website, reading the names of those who have died in southwest Asia. And yes, I recognize some of them by name and all of them by trade. They were my brothers and sisters and always will be. And I love them all. I would urge each and every one of you to go there for a visit and pay your respects. They are the last barrier between you and the next attack. They gave 'that last full measure of devotion' for you and me.

I think I might take my pole and a bucket down to the pond this morning and try to catch a mess for my friends. I know that they would like that, taking comfort in the fact that they are not forgotten. God love 'em.

Excuse me! Can't talk with my mouth full!

Yup, ol' Plowboy has a full plate here for sure. Humpteem blogs and websites to stay on top of, a farm to work, freelance pieces to write and a part-time job down the road (I think, lol)

Bear with me and I'll be back with you all soon as I can. Until then, I am gonna post pieces about things I found surfing around the Net that caught my eye. Sure is a lot of stuff to see out there, hope you keep this place as one of your stops.

Also, feel free to visit my other sites. You can find them in the links section over there on the side.

Thought this was an interesting read...

Composting Made Easy Means All Benefit And Minimum Work

By: Ann Knapp

For avid gardeners, having an ample supply of rich compost is a dream. The use of compost will result in nicer plants, but producing the material can be time consuming and hard work. The more you can reduce that effort, investing the saved time in other gardening tasks, the better.

One way to start the process is by building composting bins that at least semi-automate the productopn of compost. A bin should be five feet wide, five feet deep, and four feet high. Start by sinking 4 by 4 posts in the ground for the corners, and then nail 2 by 4s and 1 by 4s, alternating on the sides, leaving 2" gaps between the boards for air circulation. The 2 by 4s are rigid enough to keep the sides from bowing out, and in between each 2 by 4 you can use 1 by 4s to save a little money. The bins are three-sided, with the front open so they can be filled and emptied easily.

Fill one of the bins with grass clippings, dried leaves, and shrub clippings, trying not to put more than 6" of each material on a layer and alternating layers of green and brown material. Keep a few bags of dry leaves around to help with the alternating.

When you root cuttings use coarse sand in the flats and put the old sand on the compost pile. It's a good idea to take plants that do not survive and dump the entire container in the compost bin, which adds more brown material to the mix.

After the bin is full, one option is to turn the material in the bin every few weeks. Another option, however, is to pack as much material in the bin as possible, then start filling the second bin, piling the material as high as possible, even to the point where it spills out in front of the bin and covering the fresh material with mulch or potting soil.

Setting a small sprinkler on top of the pile and turning it on at a very low level will let a small spray of water run on the material. By keeping the material damp, the moisture will cause the pile to heat up, which is what makes the composting action take place.

Once the first bin is full, the second bin is used. As the material in the first bin starts to break down, it settles, which means you can keep shoveling the material piled in front of the bin, up on top of the pile. Continue to do this until all the material is either in the bin or piled on top of the heap. Then leave it alone, except for the occasional watering, which speeds up the process.

Not all of the material will rot completely, a result of not turning the pile. But the material in the center will break down more than the material on the edges, most of it breaking down quite well. Keeping a pile of potting soil on hand at all times or buying two or three yards of shredded mulch to get started, will mean always having a supply of good compost.

Left in a pile, shredded bark will eventually break down and become great compost, and some potting soil is about 80% rotted bark. Some buy fine textured and dark hardwood bark mulch, and put it in a pile to rot, keeping the pile low and flat so it does not shed the rain water away. The idea is to keep the mulch to stay as wet as possible to allow the mulch to break down quickly.

Keep a pile of rotted bark mulch near the compost bins and empty the bin containing the oldest material by piling it on top of the rotted bark mulch. The pile of rotted mulch should be wide and flat on top so the compost material is only 5 to 10 inches thick when it is spread.

The mulch pile might be 12" wide, but only be 24 to 30 inches high. Once the compost is on top of the pile, go around the edge of the pile with a shovel, and take some of the material from the edges of the pile, tossing it up on top of the pile, covering the compost with at least 6" of rotted bark. In this way the compost material will fully decompose.

Once the system is started, don't use all of the material in the pile. Keep at least 2 to 3 cubic yards on hand so there will be something to mix with the compost. If necessary, buy more material and add to e pile in the late summer or fall.

Some supply companies sell a compost material that is already broken down, but try to keep at least 3 yards of old material on hand, adding another 3 yards of fresh material. In the spring you can empty one of the compost bins and add the compost to the top of the pile.

The pile of usable compost will be layers of material, some of which can be chipped off and spread on the ground. You can then mix it together with a tiller and shovel it onto a potting bench.

Having a pile of rotted compost near the compost bins will allow you to throw some rotted compost in the bin, maintaining the layered effect necessary for composting to work well.

Author Resource:->  HydroWarehouse is a Discount Hydroponics Supply Store . We offer world class customer service with warehouse prices. Our Secure online catalog contains over 1000 hydroponics , hydroponics system , hydroponics equipment and gardening products.

Article From Write Harbor

Getting a Drink in a Dry Country

As many of you, Kentucky is largely a dry state. In other words, out of the 120 counties here about 14 of them or so allow the sell of alcohol. Usually not a hard thing to overcome if you want a "little pull" of something. Go over to a wet country and get all you want (within the legal limits) to bring it home with you.

Well, I have a professor friend, of Aussie extraction, that lives and teaches in the small country of Brunei in Borneo. That's in SE Asia for all the geography wizards out there. I never thought about having to go to another country just to take a snort, but that is exactly where she finds herself in this story of hers. Read it and I am sure you will be as entertained as I was. Fascinating woman with a lifetime of fascinating tales to tell. I am sure if you stick with her, she will tell you about her trip across China and into Mongolia this past summer. Her blog is well worth the watch!

Fact and Fiction: Getting a Drink in a Dry Country

If this really is a 3-day weekend....

Where do I have to go to pick up my extra hours?

I sure could use them this week. Got tobacco cutting in full swing, 5 blogs to keep up with as well as a handfull of websites. Not to mention the new writer's forum site that I just built and am trying to get off the ground.

Then there are the untold interruptions that just throw my 'train of thought' off the deep end.

Add to that the new client I just signed with in my freelancing business and yup, you got it! My sleep is now officially in negative numbers. lol

So....where are those extra 24 hours this weekend? I sure could use 'em!

kpb

BLOGS - They're Here to Stay

"Whether you love 'em, hate 'em or simply ignore 'em, it seems that the reality is that blogs are here to stay." - KyPlowboy, August 2007

No longer are they restricted to personal online journals published for friends and family. Blogs have become big business and are used a good bit in big business to enhance the companies that run them. There are quite a few blogs out there netting in the millions of dollars every year. This phenomenon just seems to keep snow-balling and picking up speed.

This Forum site, for example, is affiliated with 5 blog sites; all inter-linked and mutually supportive of one another. Of course, the goals of this site and those blogs is not to make money except through residual advertising to offset the time and expense of running them.The potential is there and limitless, however, to make a killing through this medium of communication. Where else can you publically market, sell, ship and deliver your wares to a world-wide market for virtually no overhead? For about $300/year you can run a large variety of web sites, blogs and e-commerce sites that reach a global market. If you can reach and sell to 1/10,000th of that market, you will be living pretty high up on the hog. All from the privacy of your home or off your mobile laptop.

There are probably as many marketing strategies to build a successful blog as there are blogs. The Internet is rife with sites that do nothing but teach you how to be a better, more successful blogger. I have reviewed several hundred of these sites and I have found what I believe to be the common core secret to them all. It's so simple and obvious that a lot of people just overlook it.

People don't visit blogs to look at all the pretty colors and flashing lights or hear the bells ring and whistles blow. They come because they are in search of content; the meat and potatoes.

Imagine, if you will, a fine five-star restaurant you have stumbled upon. They have had a cancellation and usher you in to be seated right away. Pretty good so far, eh? A whole staff of servants waits on you and flutters about while you wait on your menu. It finally arrives in the hands of a smiling server and you open it and are immediately perplexed!

It only offers one thing: PB&J Sandwich - $40.00 ($50 w/chips and a drink).

My guess is you would lose whatever appetite you had and let your feet do the talking as you headed for the door!Blogs, or any other website for that matter, need to offer up the 'meat and potatoes' if they want return customers. And the way you do that is by offering a variety fine, delectable treats that they can't wait to be served - each and every trip. To sell something to anyone, you first have to get them inside your shop. Window dressing may catch their eye and get them to peep inside, but if they view empty shelves and cobwebs, chances are they will never be back again. You failed to offer the incentive to return.

If there is one truth in the business world, it is this:

"It is often very hard to gain customers, but it's almost impossible to get them back once you've lost them."

Content. That is the secret thread that holds all successful online sites together. It is no easy task writing good, effective web content, but it can be done with a little study and good practices.

I hope that this area of the forum gets much attention and use, as it is the wave of the future in all manner of commerce, whether you are selling a product, service or even yourself (as a writer).

kpb

Appalachian Writers Forum

The Appalachian Writers Forum

Writing Craft Development & Discussion Web Site
Operated for Writers, by Writers

Are you a writer with ties to the Appalachian Region of the eastern United States? Are you are a writer from elsewhere in the world looking for a place to improve at the craft of writing? Maybe you are an avid reader with a keen interest in the written word and the skills required producing it? If you answered yes to any of these questions then the Appalachian Writers Forum (AWF) may be right for you.

This forum is an offshoot of two writing sites designed to showcase regional writers: Appalachian Writers and Kentucky Farmer. These two sites offer excellent samples of the written word from those regional areas. We would invite and encourage you to visit them as well as the AWF. But writers must continue to grow and learn to improve upon their craft and that was not available on the writer’s sites, per se. An environment for learning, exchanging ideas and practicing the craft was needed. This need was met by the development of AWF. One of the best features of the site is that it is 100% free to join and use!

The Appalachian Writers Forum is a user-friendly web site dedicated to learning the craft of writing, not improving software navigational skills. Its easy-to-learn, easy-to-follow format allows users to "jump right in" and begin participating in forum activities immediately. Assistance is always available through forum administrators as well as an online user’s manual provided as a service to members.

AWF is chucked full of useful information for all skill levels of writers. Under the "Publication" category, for example, you will find information on:

• Selecting publishers to query.
• What is a literary agent and what do they do to help a writer get published?
• What editors love as well as hate.
• Who, in the world of publishing, is soliciting submissions?
  Information on self-publishing and Print-on-Demand (POD) publisher.
• And much more.

The "Helpful Links" category offers members countless links to sites that are of interest to writers. Links to publishers, agents, editors, writing tools and sites to name a few. The best part of these resources is that they are kept fresh with new input from members on a regular basis. And, oh yeah, did we mention that it’s free?

In the "Classroom" category, all manners of subjects are discussed that pertain to the writing craft. Language skills, editing skills, writing prompts and exercises to participate in.

The "Stadium" category is the place to submit your work for the critique of other skilled writers. There are three levels of critique offered here to cater to all levels of writer’s skills. Critiques are done in a professional manner with constructive criticism given in a way to encourage growth and improvement.

The "Library" category offers a vast collection of writer’s resource materials in the form of links to sites that have them. It is here that you will find such things as dictionaries, encyclopedias and guidelines for writing technical pieces (such as those following APA standards). The library is and will remain in a constant state of growth.

The "Discussion" area of the AWF site is dedicated to many genres of writing: fiction, nonfiction, poetry, web content/SEO and essays, to name a few. Members can discuss genre-specific topics here or post samples of their own work for the reading enjoyment of others.

The list of site features goes on and on. If this sounds like the place for you, then come on over and give us test-drive. The Appalachian Writers Forum will be glad you did and we believe you will be too.

Missed Chances...

I suppose the thing that struck me most was how large the oak tree had grown in these past twenty years. When I left home it was in its first year and maybe five feet tall. Now its massive knurled arms held a million leaf-covered fingers in a canopy that covered the small yard with shade. The old house looked the same with its redbrick facade and white soffit, yet some how different. Maybe the knowledge that neither anyone I knew nor myself lived there anymore gave it a foreign appearance. “You can’t go home again,” they say and the meaning of that phrase became crystal clear to me as I slipped the car into gear and slowly drove away.

I looked left and right in mechanical fashion as I drove past the homes I grew up around. I wondered if anyone I knew even lived here anymore. Maybe a few lingered on but my guess is that most were long gone now. No matter, I was not here to see anyone anyway. To tell the truth, I was not sure why I was here at all. This visit had no logical reason to it other than I just wanted to see things here one more time before I put it behind me and moved on.

There was Suzie Jenson’s house with that carport where we both had our first kiss. The old porch swing that had hung there was gone now but its image was fresh in my head. We had sat there nervously swinging back and forth in the pale glow of a yellow porch light. I felt the hand that I held tremble a bit as I leaned my face into hers and our lips touched. I could have stayed there forever, and just might have, if her father hadn’t been watching us through the kitchen window. He damn near tore that door off the hinges and squalled for Suzi to get in the house. “You get your ass home, Paul Miller and don’t you come back here again ‘til I send for ya,” he had said. I grinned to myself a little as I thought about it. He would have shit a meat axe if he knew that kiss was not the only ‘first’ Suzi and me would share further on down the road that summer.

Across the street and one house down was where Billy Crowder lived. The old cinder-block garage we used to sneak behind with stolen cigarettes was still there but in bad need of a roof. I remember the day Momma caught us back there and had a bona fide conniption fit. She demanded my pocketknife from me and cut a switch off of one of Mr. Crowder’s apple trees with it. It was about as big around as your little finger and five feet long. She had me by my left wrist and fairly well cut the backs of my legs to pieces with it as we went towards home. She cussed me and prayed to Jesus in the same sentence and breath as we danced down the street in front of God and everybody. All’s well that ends well, I reckon, and I lost my taste for tobacco that day.

The street ended at the main highway, a four-lane road that ran to Nashville in one direction and north to Louisville in the other. There was a traffic light here where none had been my last time home. The old Greyhound sub-station across the road and Joe’s Bar and Grill beside it were gone, their footprints buried under a new road that had emerged over the years. I guess nothing is safe or sacred anymore. I turned with the light and headed towards town.

It was hard to see now through the thick growth of hedge apple trees surrounding the yard, but there on the right sat old Dixie Elementary. I thought how very small it looked now. Its halls seemed so massive to me as a child. It was here that I had learned some of my most important lessons in life. I learned that bloody noses and black eyes don’t hurt near as bad if you win the fight, broken hearts are not fatal and even grandmothers have to die. I was shown the world is not a happy, friendly place every time we had a civil defense drill in the hallway. “Sit on the floor with your backs against the wall, pull your knees to your chest and place your head between your legs,” they told us. But they didn’t tell us everything. They left out the part about kiss ‘your ass goodbye’ because you ain’t walking away from a nuclear attack. But we all knew it intuitively.

I moved on up the road until I came to the little strip mall on the left where we used to get our groceries. Winn-Dixie on one end and A & P on the other kept one another honest for the customers. Between them lay the drug store, the bakery, a barbershop, the old ‘Ten-Cent Store’ – Woolworth’s and the bank. The buildings were still there but I didn’t recognize a single business in them. The memories rushed over me as I recalled those hot summer days when Ronnie and me would ride our bikes the mile or so to get here. One or the other of us had done a chore for somebody and had fifty cents or a dollar, maybe. We had a pact that way, a “one for all, all for one” understanding that the good fortunes of one was good fortune for the other as well. Candy bars were a nickel then and donuts were three cents each. Ice cold bottles of pop were a dime at the bakery. A half dollar would find us over under the big maple trees across the street at the church eating 10 donuts and washing them down with a couple of cool drinks. Only my memories remain of those days now, the rest of it has gone.

I glanced left at my old high school on the left as I waited for the light to change. There had been much added on to it since I attended. I hardly recognized it anymore. School was out now and only a few cars were in front of the main building, probably maintenance men or janitors. The light changed and I made a right turn before I had time to get lost in thought about my high school days.

Most of the businesses here on Old Third Street road had changed, too. Burger Chef was gone and so was that little diner where our neighbor Ann had worked after her husband died. Champ’s Roller Rink, just before the railroad crossing, was now a small warehouse of some kind. But the times we had there! As a matter of fact, it was here that I spent my last night in this town.

It was like almost every other Saturday night. At least it started out that way. I was at Champ’s with Ronnie to see what kind of luck we would have with the ladies. Ronnie had pilfered a pint of Canadian Mist from his father’s liquor cabinet and we were not having a bit of trouble in the courage department. We hooked up with Cathy Crawford and her little sister, Mary Beth. We flirted and laughed and skated around the floor backward for a while. Every so often, Ronnie and me would excuse ourselves and slip outside for another sip of courage. Eventually we ended up leaving with the girls in tow, headed to a little secluded spot down by the river.

The radio was blaring inside the little Chevelle as I pulled out of the parking lot and turned right and headed across the railroad tracks there. The crossing guard must have been broken and I never saw the train. The last thing I remember was Cathy’s screams being drowned out by the train’s horn, a great concussion and then nothing.
I awoke in a hospital bed in the jail wing of the hospital. As soon as the doctor had examined me and determined I was lucid enough to talk, a sheriff’s deputy stepped forward and read me my rights and the charges against me. Three counts of vehicular homicide, he said. The rest is history, as they say. My history.

My folks both died while I was in prison. They left me what they had in a bank account so I could try to start my life over when I got out. I made parole this week but I will never be out of this prison in my head. Every night for the last twenty years when I laid down to sleep, six eyes stared at me from the dark ceiling of my cell. I can’t imagine that being anything but a life sentence.

The last big holiday of the Summer is fast approaching and with it the parties and celebrations. I hope everyone has fun and stays safe. I am running this piece in hopes that someone, somewhere will read it and think before they make a mistake like the character in the story.

Got Caught Speeding Again...

Read This Slowly...

Allen took a long look at his speedometer before slowing down: 73 in a 55 zone. Fourth time in as many months. How could a guy get caught so often?

When his car had slowed to 10 miles an hour, Allen pulled over, but only partially. Let the cop worry about the potential traffic hazard. Maybe some other car will tweak his backside with a mirror. The cop was stepping out of his car, the big pad in hand.

Jim? Jim from Church? Allen sunk farther into his trench coat. This was worse than the coming ticket. A cop catching a guy from his own church. A guy who happened to be a little eager to get home after a long day at theoffice. A guy he was about to play golf with tomorrow.

Jumping out of the car, he approached a man he saw every Sunday, a man he'd never seen in uniform.

"Hi, Jim. Fancy meeting you like this."

"Hello, Allen." No smile.

"Guess you caught me red-handed in a rush to see my wife and kids."

"Yeah, I guess." Jim seemed uncertain. Good.

"I've seen some long days at the office lately. I'm afraid I bent the rules a bit -just this once."

Allen toed at a pebble on the pavement. "Eva said something about roast beef and potatoes tonight. Know what I mean?"

"I know what you mean. I also know that you have a reputation in our precinct ." Ouch. This was not going in the right direction. Time to change tactics.

"What'd you clock me at?"

"Seventy. Would you sit back in your car please?"

"Now wait a minute here, Jim. I checked as soon as I saw you. I was barely nudging 65." The lies seemed to come easier with every ticket.

"Please, Allen, in the car"

Flustered, Allen hunched himself through the still-open door. Slamming it shut, he stared at the dashboard. He was in no rush to open the window. The minutes ticked by. Jim scribbled away on the pad.

Why hadn't he asked for a driver's license?

Whatever the reason, it would be a month of Sundays before Allen ever sat near this cop again. A tap on the door jerked his head to the left. There was Jim, a folded paper in hand Allen rolled down the window a mere two inches, just enough room for Jim to pass him the slip.

"Thanks." Allen could not quite keep the sneer out of his voice.
Jim returned to his police car without a word. Allen watched his retreat in the mirror. Allen unfolded the sheet of paper. How much was this one going to cost?

Wait a minute. What was this? Some kind of joke?Certainly not a ticket. Allen began to read:

"Dear Allen, Once upon a time I had a daughter. She was six when killed by a car. You guessed it- a speeding driver. A fine and three months in jail, and the man was free. Free to hug his daughters, all three of them. I only had one, and I'm going to have to wait until Heaven before I can ever hug her again. A thousand times I've tried to forgive that man. A thousand times I thought I had. Maybe I did, but I need to do it again. Even now. Pray for me. And be careful, Allen, my son is all I have left.

Jim"

Allen turned around in time to see Jim's car pull away and head down the road. Allen watched until it disappeared. A full 15 minutes later, he too, pulled away and drove slowly home, praying for forgiveness and hugging a surprised wife and kids when he arrived.

Life is precious. Handle with care. This is an important message; please pass it along to your friends. Drive safely and carefully. Remember, cars are not the only things recalled by their maker.

Funny how you can send a thousand jokes through e-mail and they spread like wildfire, but when you start sending messages regarding the sanctity of life, people think twice about sharing.

Funny how when you go to forward this message, you will not send it to many on your address list because you're not sure what they believe, or what they will think of you for sending it to them.

Pass this on, you may save a life. Maybe not, but we'll never know if we don't try.

I found this piece over on my friend Jeff's blog and thought I would put it here for my other friends to see. It seems very timely to think about with Labor Day weekend coming up and school starting again. The streets will be full of children. In one instant of poor decisions, lives are changed forever. Just think about it...think about it.

Rain

Rain...

Finally getting a little of it this morning. We got about an hour of a shower Sunday evening and now it is raining a little more this morning. It is not so much in inches as it is in our spirits that this will measured.

We have had a heat wave the last 4 weeks now with over 90 degrees every day. That is not common for us here and has set new records for the length of such highs. It looks as though this will continue through Saturday with several days topping 100 degrees and very high humidity.

It has been and will continue to be hard for us here throughout the Fall and Winter. The best we can hope for now are enough rains to revive the pastures and soybeans enough to get us through til next year. This is going to be a hard year through late next Spring because of this drought. I hope we don't have a repeat next year. Many of us won't survive it farming if we do. We are only hanging on by hopes and prayers now and another year like this one will see us done.

But today we have rain, so there is some hope in that...

Making the Most of the Brief Reprieve.

We had a weak cold front come through on Thursday. The rain all went North of us, but the temps dropped about 10 degrees and there is almost no humidity. We'll take it!!! lol Wednesday and Thursday both set records with 103 and 105 respectively. And put very high humidity on top of that and it was almost unbearable. But you take what you get in the weather department.

Rick and me took advantage of the "cold snap" and chopped silage all day yesterday and today. The silo is almost full and we will let it settle tonight and make a little more room. We have about 4 more wagon loads to chop if we can get it in the silo. We will do that about noon tomorrow.

We had been wondering if there was even gonna be any silage, or corn too, for that matter. This drought has really hurt the local farmers here. Poor crop production, livestock woes and the tobacco is not being helped by it either. It has just been a very rough year all the way around. But we will all make it, we have no choice but to make it.

Still Hangin' in There...

Well, I don't have to tell anybody who has been within 500 miles of here in any direction but it's HOT! We have set record after record here for the number of days in a row that it has been over 90 degrees. I think it has been almost 4 weeks now like that. It always gets hot in August, but hardly ever stays that way relentlessly.

Even that would not be too bad if we had gotten any kind of rain at all. The last good rains we had were in late June and a few minor events in early July. Since then....nothin'.

Tobacco kinda thrives in hot weather, but it still needs a good rain now and then, not as much as corn or soybeans, but some. My tobacco was bearing with it til about a week ago and then it started 'firing'. That is when the bottom leaves start dying, turning brown and crumbling up to fall off. Then it moves up the plant the drier the weather gets. Crops across the state are losing tens of thousands of pounds per week as this continues on. Tobacco that was topped before it began will fare better, but there is a large segment of the total crop that is just now being topped. Tobacco gains about 1/2 of its total weight in the last 1/3 of its life except when something like this happens. It is not going to be a very good year for tobacco farmers, I fear. We will have to cut it before full maturity just to stop the losses in the field. But there is always next year, eh? rofl

And I ain't even gonna get into cattle and pastures and the lack of hay for this winter. Just understand it is not looking good for the home team there either. "But what about government aid programs?" Yeah, right...and then you woke up. rofl.

Oh well, you pays yo' money and you takes yo' chances, as they say.

New Feature Added to Site

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Killing Time...

"What are you doing?" I asked.
The old man never looked up
Or batted an eye as he spoke.
"Nothin' much, just killin' time."

My nod of affirmation ignored,
I quietly walked away.
One would think a man of his years
Would hold a better grip on reality.

How many days of waste
Had this old fool seen?
Killing an enemy that will not die
And lulls you into complacency

In the hands of time
Is held the shovel
That will cover us all
In our graves.

Copyright © 2007 Mike Lawson

True Patriotism!!!

I recently had the opportunity to share an evening with some old friends of mine (Mr. & Mrs. "S" ) at a restaurant here in town. As the evening bore on and several adult beverages were consumed, the stories got better and rowdier as we went. The night was quite enjoyable and filled with the laughter of good company.

There were occasions throughout the evening, I noticed, that Mrs. S snorted as she laughed. Now, before you go pointing fingers in her direction and snickering, consider this. I had learned from conversations with Mrs.S that she had liaisons with Ft. Knox as pertains to her employment. She passed it off as her being a Belly Dancer at the Senior NCO club, but after I studied it a bit, I think that was just a cover; a ruse, if you will.

I think she really works on some highly classified government projects and should be saluted for her efforts by one and all. I came across this article in the Howe Valley Howler later and it all just seemed to fall into place...the snorts...the hoots...Ft Knox...

* * * * *

The Howe Valley Howler

Buford P. Snodgrass - Staff Writer

What a phenomenom the snort poses! I would think somewhere in an undergound laboratory, tucked away in dark secrecy, many studies have been done on this very topic (undoubtedly at a huge taxpayer's expence). It has enormous potential as a secret weapon. Envision this if you will:

"Early reports are in from the field as the Army tested its new SG-1 Agent on actual enemies in combat today. Initially, at least, it looks as if the results are quite satisfactory. Reports indicate that the SG-1 (nicknamed 'Snort Gas' ) was administered to a large group of insurgents surrounded in Sadr City, Iraq.

Application of the agent was accomplished by rocket-propelled grenades. Almost immediately, hostile fire stopped coming from the insurgents positions followed by a thundering roar of uncontollable snorts. One soldier on hand had this to say, "Holy Jeebus! It sounded like slaughter day at a Jimmy Dean's sausage plant in there! We just walked right in and took 'em prisoner without incident. I swear, I ain't never seen the likes of it before!"

Currently, the Army is working on an improved and even more viable SG product for those enemies that may prove to have stronger resolve. The SG-H-1/UU is almost available for field testing and will be forwarded to the troops in Afghanistan within the month to test in the field on Talaban Fighters.

This family of weapons is based on the SG-1's basic grade material but introduces an H-factor to induce 'hooting' as well as UU -additives to initiate 'uncontrollable urination'.

High hopes are being held out for the use of this technology as it could end the bloodshed in a matter of weeks. As one senior level official from the Pentegon put it, "There is nothing silly about our snorting. We believe this technology holds the power for world peace. Our investigations have not stopped short in snorts. We will continue to follow our noses as we develop the field of snort technology. We are looking into all sorts of snorts and intend to 'bring home the bacon' with this project. That is if we can overcome opposition on the Hill from those squealing anti-snort snots. Our snoots sniff snorts as the wave of the future, so they might as well quit sniveling about it."

More on this break-through as we 'sniff it out??? Back to you, Arnold"

I have great fear that Mrs. S has become contaminated with some of this agent, as could only happen if she were involved in its development. Seems I do recall a hoot or two coming from her between snorts and trips to the ladies room.

What a sacrifice for anyone to make for their country and world peace!!! My hat is off to you, dear lady! SALUTE!!!

Just Thinkin' Out Loud Again...

"Death will come for all of us so that life may remain important" - Rednecromancer

13 simple words that sum up our meager existance here and why we should make every minute count for something. The five seconds it took to read this may be coming off of the last 60 you have.

Cybernetic Nexus - Writer's Forum

Are you a writer looking for a place to talk freely with other writers about the craft? Maybe you are looking for a writer to help you with that special project you are working on. You may be a reader with a burning interest in the written word that is simply looking for new authors to read. Whatever your interests in writing or writers, there is not a single source site for all of these needs. At least there wasn’t until now! Cybernetic Nexus at www.cyberneticnexus.com provides this service. Cybernetic Nexus is a forum for writers of all genres to gather, join in open discussions and post queries to other writers. Having problems researching new material for a piece? Post a query to other writers asking for help or ideas. Just learned a new trick of the trade or found a hot new writer’s resource site? Post it in the proper genre or topical area of the site and spread the word or get helpful feedback! Cybernetic Nexus is a writer’s forum administered by a writer for writers. Of course, everyone is welcome that has an interest in the written word, whether they write or just like to read and learn about writing. And best of all, it’s free to join and become a member! Author/Novelist Shannon “Tommy” Thomas, www.shannonthomas.org, is the writer behind the controls at Cybernetic Nexus. His own words serve as the best way to convey the nature and intent of this writer’s forum. Tommy says, “Some may wonder why I chose the name “Cybernetic Nexus” for this place, since that name doesn’t immediately convey any notions of writing or editing or anything else pertaining to the subject matter on this forum. I could go into a huge speech about it, but perhaps the main reason is best explained by the definition of the core words: cy•ber•net•ics (sī’bər-nět’ĭks)n. (used with a sing. verb)The theoretical study of communication and control processes in biological, mechanical, and electronic systems, especially the comparison of these processes in biological and artificial systems. nex•us [nek-suh s]n. plural nex•us•es, nex•us.1. a means of connection; tie; link2. a connected series or group3. the core or center, as of a matter or situation.4. Cell Biology. a specialized area of the cell membrane involved in intercellular communication and adhesion." That’s what this place is truly all about: People using machines to come together, connect at a central core and communicate.” Cybernetic Nexus is composed of various forums covering a large spectrum of the writing craft. Included in these sections are:  Freelancing – Like the name indicates, this section is devoted to discussions and feedback about the different facets of freelance writing.  Killing Babies – Writer’s term for the editorial process. Here you will find discussions on this process, editorial tips and tricks of the trade.  Publication – This forum is directed towards writers who are interested in obtaining publication of their work. Discussions may range from finding an agent to preparing the manuscript to self-publishing through a print-on-demand publishing company.  Contests! – Writers and organizations are encouraged to post announcements of upcoming contests and publication opportunities here.  Links – Members are allowed to post links to sites that may be of interest to those pursuing the writing craft.  Deus ex Machina – This forum allows members to start a thread in an area of writing not specifically laid out in other more pointed forums.  Forums on Genre Specific Areas – These sections comprise forums for the discussion of Fiction, Poetry, Nonfiction and Erotica.  Website Questions & Concerns – This area serves as a place to voice complaints, suggestions or critiques of the Cybernetic Nexus website. The most important and diverse element of Cybernetic Nexus is the body of members that comprise it. Stop by and check it out if you think it might be a place of interest to you. You have nothing to lose and everything to gain. See you there! Sources: cybernetic. (n.d.). Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.1). Retrieved December 30, 2006, from Dictionary.com website: http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/cybernetic nexus. (n.d.). Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.1). Retrieved December 30, 2006, from Dictionary.com website: http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/nexus

I was thinkin' (and 'no', it didn't hurt)

It seems to me many people are caught up in the trappings of things - expensive cars, clothes, fine food and drink, vacations they can ill afford; stuff like that. So be it. I wouldn't trade one sunset on my front porch for all of it. At least when I go to bed at night it is with a clear conscience. I don't count my treasures in sparkly trinkets or Italian suits. I count them in peace of mind and the ability to learn and study. Knowledge is my wealth and I try to horde as much of it as I can.

I suppose a lot of people would call me a bit strange, even eccentric to a degree, because of my outlook on things. It fascinates and amuses me to no end when people in their pompous demeaner claim to have "discovered" this or that. Truth is, they didn't discover anything, they merely stumbled onto the essence of what was always there. The greatest chemist and physicist in the universe invented it all, and all we meager humans can hope to do is uncover the nature of it. But He discovered it at the beginning of time. Hell, He invented it out of nothing! And then people parade about with their heads reared back and their frail little chests stuck out like they have really done something when they learn of the essence of things. It is just a hoot to me.

Take this global warming thingie. What a crock! The truth is, that when Mt. St. Helen's erupted in Washington State several years back, more pollution and greenhouse gasses were released in that one event than man has done cumulatively since the beginning of time. We really have a way of building up our self importance in things! I am not saying we should run amuck of it all, but there is not much we can do that is going to have a long term "make or break" effect on it.

But we, as humans, feel the need to be in 'control' of everything. It is an illusion we trick ourselves with. In fact, we are in control of little or nothing really, just our responses to situations as they arise and that is about it. Mother Nature (God, if you will) is ultimately in charge of it all and His Will, will be done. It is the only constant in the universe. Where we as humans run afoul of it, is that we try to change His will to suit our desires (not needs) and that just ain't gonna happen. The true test is to change ourselves to meet His will, not the other way around.

Universal laws are also universal truths and they cannot be changed. People flail around and falter trying to break these laws, but the truth of the matter is that they cannot and will not be broken. What inevitably happens is that we (humans) only succeed in breaking ourselves against the laws, not the other way around.

Everything is relative to the paradigm from which we view our surroundings. More times than not, our positions won't allow us to see the whole picture. We need to shift our frame of reference to get a handle on it. Take for instance a story told by Frank Koch in "Prodeedings", the magazine for the Naval Institute:

-----

Two battleships assigned to a training squadron had been at sea on maneuvers in heavy weather for several days. I was serving on the lead battleship and was on watch on the bridge as night fell. The visability was poor with patchy fog, so the captain remained on the bridge keeping an eye on activities.

Shortly after dark, the lookout on the wing of the bridge reported, "Light. Bearing on the starboard bow."

"Is it steady or moving astern?" the captain called out.

The lookout replied, "Steady captain," which meant we were on a dangerous collision course with that ship.

The captain then called for his signalman, "Signal that ship: We are on a collision course, advise you change your course 20 degrees."

Back came a signal, "Advisable for you to change course 20 degrees."

The captain said, "Send: I am a captain, change course 20 degrees!"

"I'm a seaman second class," came the reply. "You had better change course 20 degrees."

By that time, the captain was furious. He spat out, "Send: I'm a battleship. Change course 20 degrees!"

Back came the flashing light, "I am a lighthouse."

We changed course!

-----

Everything is relative to the position we view it from. More times than not, we need to make a shift in our paradigm to get a more accurate view of things. When we do this, it allows us to see the truth of the lighthouse and not our minds illusion of another ship.

So, I seek knowledge and wisdom as my treasures. They are the only things of this world that you will carry with you to the next.

Secrets...

No one who knows either one of us, knows where we are this morning. They don’t have a clue. We have planned this little getaway for almost a year now. Finally, here we are. As I stare out across the ocean, my mind drifts back to last night… the smell of her hair, the soft warmth of her skin, the fire of desire in her eyes. With a gentle kiss on the cheek, I left her in bed sleeping this morning and walked barefoot to beach below.

Standing there now, I feel the breeze blowing in my face; tender breaths of cool, salty air. The sun is not up yet, but the sky is beginning to brighten in the east in an array of color that was the thunderstorm that passed through last night. It turns the waters in front of me red and orange and yellows, a fiery rainbow that ripples and changes with the rise and fall of the waves. The pulsing beat of the ocean pushes little, warm tongues of water around my feet and quickly withdraws them back down the beach to the safety of their mother.

Down the beach, I hear the muffled roar of larger waves as they crash against the rocks there in an age-old struggle for superiority. She always wins in the end, I think, but what do rocks know of such things. I stand silent, in the growing light, hands buried in my pockets, mesmerized by it all… I don’t hear her approach, feather-like on the sands behind me.

She gently slides her hands around my waist and locks them together across my belly, as her chin finds its place on my shoulder and nuzzles there. A gentle kiss on the side of my neck and then we are still, frozen at this moment in this moment. Two sets of eyes peer out at the sea before us as one and for that brief instant, we are one. Making a memory that will live forever…

Copyright © 2007 Mike Lawson

Luckenbach Moon...

I am all about learning new things and broadening my horizons. I have and do read about anything and everything. Any of you who have had the misfortune of suffering through some of my poetry may wonder, “Now where the hell did that come from?” I often find inspiration for my work in the works of others. You will often see their influences in my pieces.

A writer I think a lot of and hope you come to like as well is John Russell ‘Hondo’ Crouch. A rancher, philosopher and Texan folk hero, Crouch bought the deserted town of Luckenbach, Texas back in the 80’s and turned it into a Texas music Mecca. He was the self-proclaimed Mayor of Luckenbach and coined “Everybody is Somebody, in Luckenbach” as the town motto. He was in turn given the title of Grand Imagineer. Hope you like this poem of Hondo's and its vivid imagery.


THE LUCKENBACH MOON
Hondo Crouch

Nuthin’ much happened in Luckenbach this month,
‘Cept the potato chip man came by.
Then there was the moon.
We try to tell folks who come by here to look at our town
What a big, mean moon we have
But nobody’ll believe it.
And last night it showed off.
The greatest ever.It just hung there, darin’ you to look at it,
Makin’ silhouettes into things and things came alive.
It even shined plumb to the bottom of the canyon,
Under bluffs and plopped dark doughnuts ’round the bottom of trees on top of the mountain.
A kind of moon that makes haunted houses uglier
And ugly girls prettier.
And little animals see farther and feel closer together.
Brave weeds even rose up to look ’round for lawn mowers.
Grandpa sat up in bed and said, “What’s that?”
And the hair on Grandma’s legs stood on end, he said.
On moonbrite nites like this, big eyed deer
Tiptoe into larger openings and they can dance better
’cause they can see where the rocks are at.
Their prancin’ gets fancier and freer because they know mans not there to darnpen the dance.
This kind of moonshine makes you crazy if you sleep in it, they say,
But I think you’re crazy not to try it.
Momma even slept with the baby to protect it and I
Flounced in bed even in a thick rock house.
And when I went outside to see what was the matter
Somethin’ scared cold chills up my back.
Everything was standin’ at attention over new shadows.
Then what was that that moved?
Probably just a Nuthin’.
You know, a big full moon like ours is kinda like a person:
It needs help to show off, and last nite
All the clouds stayed home on purpose to create a great solo.
We can’t stand an encore!
It takes too much out of you.
Those who saw the moon said they could smell it.
One said it tasted like sin.
The quietness at the parkside road was deafenin’
And the little single couple sittin’ there touched the backs of their hands together.

"Scare Me !"
We’ve been tellin’ strangers who come to Luckenbach
'Bout our Moon,
But I know they won’t believe that
We have such a big moon
For such a small town.

July 27th, 2006 - Remembered...

(Brought forward from my old Word Press blog)

Remember when the days were long.
And rolled beneath a deep blue sky?
Didn’t have a care in the world,
With mommy and daddy standing by.
When happily ever after fails,
And we’ve been poisoned by these fairy tales…

O beautiful, for spacious skies,
But now those skies are threatening.
They’re beating plowshares into swords,
For this tired old man that we elected king.
Armchair warriors often fail,
And we’ve been poisoned by these fairy tales…

Who knows how long this will last,
Now we’ve come so far, so fast.
But, somewhere back there in the dust,
That same small town in each of us.I need to remember this,
So baby give me just one kiss.
And let me take a long last look,
Before we say good bye.

Just lay your head back on the ground,
And let your hair fall all around me.
Offer up your best defense,
But this is the end,
This is the end of the innocence.

“The End of the Innocence”, Don Henley-native Texan


LUBBOCK, Texas

For the second time in as many years, a light green sedan with US Government plates pulled into the drive at the Velez home in Lubbock, Texas. For the second time in as many years, an Army chaplain and survivor benefits officer knocked on the door there. For the second time in as many years, the hearts of the Velez home were broken in two as they were told they had lost yet another son to this war.

Roy Velez listened, I’m sure, over the wails of his wife as the specifics of the death were reported to him. His youngest son, Army Specialist Andrew Velez, 22, was killed in Afghanistan while there to search for Bin Laden. His oldest son, Army Corporal Jose Velez, 23, was killed in Fallujah, Iraq in November 2004. Mr. Velez had this to say, “I can’t be angry. I feel like my heart’s been pulled out. We’ve done what the Lord allowed us to do for our country.'’

The family lost its only sons; there is one daughter.

• He was scheduled to return for 10 days of leave during the last week of August.
• After his death, Jose Velez was awarded two Purple Hearts, the Bronze Star and a Silver Star.
• Andrew Velez is survived by his parents, his wife, Veronica Velez; a daughter, Jasmine Jade, 5; and two sons, Jordan Davis, 3, and Jacob Andrew, 2.

My thoughts and prayers go out to these people. You can’t be any more American than they are. I pray too, that this mess over there is done before the two grandsons of Mr. Velez are given the opportunity to die for their country as well. How much more can be expected of one family than the price already paid here.

Plowboy

February 6, 2007

(Just bringing this forward from my old Word Press blog to get things kicked off here)

It has been a pretty eventful week here in Hooterville. The markets for corn and soybeans are back up again and we (the farm I work on) have been hauling grain to the grain elevators. I talked to my boss yesterday and it looks like we may get to move more in the upcoming weeks, if the prices hold. Sure hope so. The Power Company and Telephone Company love it when I get to haul grain. I am, after all, out here working for them by proxy. Right about now they ain’t real happy with me but they can get glad in the same shoes they got mad in, it’s been a tough winter all around. It ain’t a crime being poor but it sure is inconvenient.

We got a newer tractor and a brand new trailer to haul with this year. It has over 400hp and pulls 1k bushels of grain like you were pulling a boat trailer. No more huffin’ and puffin’ to make the hills between here and there. It’s a real nice rig. Power everything and air-ride all around.
There is a cell phone gonna be put in it this week and that will be good to have. Anyone that knows me much at all knows my opinion about cell phones. For the most part I wish their inventor had every one of them up his hind-end and all ringin’ at once. But I broke down twice last year and had to walk a pretty good piece for a payphone (if you can even find one these days) so it will be nice to have in the event of a breakdown or something. Outside of that, I doubt I ever pick it up to even look at it.

I liked the old truck we had too, but she was about worn out and starting to need therapy a lot. I feel safer in this new one. You can see out of it much better and it rides quieter. Not only that, but you get a respectful nod from the other truckers out on the road as they pass you, instead of that scowl that says, “Get that ol’ rust bucket out of the way, Vern.” Of course, me being me, their looks were always met with a glare of my own that said, “Kiss my Irish ass.” Fact of the matter is they pay no more or less at the elevator regardless of what you bring it in.

I still have about 100 sticks of tobacco to strip yet and need to get on that soon before the market closes. It was hit with a little frost before I could get it in the barn and had a hard time curing the green out of the leaves. Be that as it may, talk of this year’s crop has already begun easing into conversations and will soon appear on daily work schedules. It is my intentions to turn the ground for my tobacco and corn during the first little warm spell we have when the ground is dry enough to work. Seems it works up better at planting if it has been turned and allowed to freeze and thaw several times to soften it up.

Time too, to start prepping the tobacco float bed and getting it in order for this season. I plan on seeding mine by the first of April, but will buy enough plants from work for an acre. That will allow me to spread the work out a little. First setting early May, second late May-early June. Puts the harvest about a month apart too. Two acres on one man is a stretch of capacity.

I also plan on putting out a pretty good size garden this year and may order some baby chicks to raise too. I have not had chickens here for a year or so now and kind of miss them around the place. I think something caught my last old rooster I had here, I ain’t seen him or heard a sound from him in a week or two now. Have some fencing that needs repair and the driveway graded. Just no end to it. Seems this place eats better than I do. Just hope I get enough work this Spring to bank roll it all.

I bought 10 bred cows back in December and three have already had calves; the last day before yesterday. One was born the 22nd of December and another on New Year’s Day. It is not the best time of year for it, but you take what you get sometimes. If they make it they will just weigh more this Fall when I sell them to pay the Notes around here. I check on them 2-3 times a day and so far they are fine. Better if they are born in Mar-Apr though. I will breed them back to be synchronized a little better for next year. This gives me 12 cows total and that is enough for now, ’til I get them straightened out and poppin’ and snappin’. 12 are about the limit for the pasture I have to raise really good calves without having to supply feed too. I didn’t want to have a Spring and a Fall calving herd but it looks like that is what I have until I can adjust it.

I have been doing what freelance writing work I can and working on getting these three Internet businesses up and running in the background of the farm and work. Anyway, as you can see, I have it in front of me to do. Lol And on that note…I’m outta here.

Plowboy

Welcome!!!

Welcome one and all to my blog, Plowboy's Porch. If you are interested in what I have done, am doing or am about to get into, you can track it here. lol

Right now, I am covered up with farm work, so in that light, I would offer you my other two blogs to review until I can start posting here regularily.

Kentucky Farmer

and

Appalachian Writers

Thanks for the visit and I hope to be up and running hard shortly.

Plowboy