Must. Stop. Eating. Cookies. Where does all this extra skin come from any way?
Well, I jumped on the scale this morning at mom's behest and had a little panic attack. I guess I will have to give up eating Grandma's cookies. But they're so good!
She uses real sugar, not Splenda and they have oats and other good for you stuff in them, so why are they so bad for you? It's not fair! I guess I'll have to go on strike.
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
Monday, July 31, 2006
DO YOU KNOW HIM?
DO YOU KNOW HIM?
The Bible says my King is a seven-way king....He's the King of the Jews; that's a racial king....He's the King of Israel; that's a national King....He's the King of Righteousness....He's the King of the Ages.....He's the King of Heaven....He's the King of Glory....He's the King of kings, and He's the Lord of lords. That's my King. Well....I wonder, do you know Him? David said, "The Heavens declare the glory of God and the firmament shows His handiwork. My King is a sovereign King. No means of measure can define His limitless love. No far seeing telescope can bring into visibility the coastline of His shoreless supply. No barrier can hinder Him from pouring out His blessings. He's enduringly strong....He's entirely sincere....He's eternally steadfast....He's immortally graceful....He's imperially powerful....He's impartially merciful....... Do you know Him?
He's the greatest phenomenon that ever crossed the horizon of this world. He's God's Son....He's a sinner's Savior....He's the centerpiece of civilization....He stands in the solitude of Himself....He's august....He's unique....He's unparalleled....He's unprecedented....He's the loftiest idea in literature....He's the highest personality in philosophy....He's the supreme problem in higher criticism....He's the fundamental doctrine of true theology....He's the cardinal necessity for spiritual religion....He's the miracle of the age.... He's the superlative of everything good that you choose to call Him....He's the only one qualified to be an all sufficient Savior...... I wonder if you know Him today?
He supplies strength for the weak....He's available for the tempted and the tried....He sympathizes and He saves....He strengthens and sustains....He guards and He guides....He heals the sick....He cleanses lepers....He forgives sinners....He discharges debtors....He delivers captives....He defends the feeble....He blesses the young....He serves the unfortunate....He regards the aged....He rewards the diligent....and He beautifies the meek....... I wonder if you know Him?
Well, my King....is the King....He's the key to knowledge....He's the wellspring to wisdom....He's the doorway of deliverance....He's the pathway of peace....He's the roadway of righteousness ....He's the highway of holiness....He's the gateway of glory....... Do you know Him?
Well....His office is manifold....His promise is sure....His light is matchless....His goodness is limitless....His mercy is everlasting....His love never changes....His word is enough....His grace is sufficient....His reign is righteous....and His yoke is easy, and his burden is light. I wish I could describe Him to you, but He's indescribable....He's incomprehensible....He's invincible....He's irresistible.
Well, you can't get Him out of your mind....You can't get Him off of your hand....You can't out live Him, and you can't live without Him....The Pharisees couldn't stand Him, but they found out they couldn't stop Him....Pilate couldn't find any fault in Him....The witnesses couldn't get their testimonies to agree....Herod couldn't kill Him....Death couldn't handle Him, and the grave couldn't hold Him. Yea!!!, that's my King, that's my King.
Father..."Thine is the Kingdom....and the Power....and the Glory....Forever"....and ever, and ever, and ever, and ever. How long is that? And ever...and ever...and when you get through with all the forevers, then.... AMEN!....AMEN!
- S.M. Lockridge
All I can say is take a look at the previous post. It'll knock you socks off too.
The Bible says my King is a seven-way king....He's the King of the Jews; that's a racial king....He's the King of Israel; that's a national King....He's the King of Righteousness....He's the King of the Ages.....He's the King of Heaven....He's the King of Glory....He's the King of kings, and He's the Lord of lords. That's my King. Well....I wonder, do you know Him? David said, "The Heavens declare the glory of God and the firmament shows His handiwork. My King is a sovereign King. No means of measure can define His limitless love. No far seeing telescope can bring into visibility the coastline of His shoreless supply. No barrier can hinder Him from pouring out His blessings. He's enduringly strong....He's entirely sincere....He's eternally steadfast....He's immortally graceful....He's imperially powerful....He's impartially merciful....... Do you know Him?
He's the greatest phenomenon that ever crossed the horizon of this world. He's God's Son....He's a sinner's Savior....He's the centerpiece of civilization....He stands in the solitude of Himself....He's august....He's unique....He's unparalleled....He's unprecedented....He's the loftiest idea in literature....He's the highest personality in philosophy....He's the supreme problem in higher criticism....He's the fundamental doctrine of true theology....He's the cardinal necessity for spiritual religion....He's the miracle of the age.... He's the superlative of everything good that you choose to call Him....He's the only one qualified to be an all sufficient Savior...... I wonder if you know Him today?
He supplies strength for the weak....He's available for the tempted and the tried....He sympathizes and He saves....He strengthens and sustains....He guards and He guides....He heals the sick....He cleanses lepers....He forgives sinners....He discharges debtors....He delivers captives....He defends the feeble....He blesses the young....He serves the unfortunate....He regards the aged....He rewards the diligent....and He beautifies the meek....... I wonder if you know Him?
Well, my King....is the King....He's the key to knowledge....He's the wellspring to wisdom....He's the doorway of deliverance....He's the pathway of peace....He's the roadway of righteousness ....He's the highway of holiness....He's the gateway of glory....... Do you know Him?
Well....His office is manifold....His promise is sure....His light is matchless....His goodness is limitless....His mercy is everlasting....His love never changes....His word is enough....His grace is sufficient....His reign is righteous....and His yoke is easy, and his burden is light. I wish I could describe Him to you, but He's indescribable....He's incomprehensible....He's invincible....He's irresistible.
Well, you can't get Him out of your mind....You can't get Him off of your hand....You can't out live Him, and you can't live without Him....The Pharisees couldn't stand Him, but they found out they couldn't stop Him....Pilate couldn't find any fault in Him....The witnesses couldn't get their testimonies to agree....Herod couldn't kill Him....Death couldn't handle Him, and the grave couldn't hold Him. Yea!!!, that's my King, that's my King.
Father..."Thine is the Kingdom....and the Power....and the Glory....Forever"....and ever, and ever, and ever, and ever. How long is that? And ever...and ever...and when you get through with all the forevers, then.... AMEN!....AMEN!
- S.M. Lockridge
All I can say is take a look at the previous post. It'll knock you socks off too.
You Can Trust Him
You Can Trust Him
He's the one who made you, it is He who made us and not we ourselves. The heavens declare the glory of God and the firmament shows His handiwork. No means or measure can define His limitless love and no farseeing telescope can bring into visibility the coastline of His shoreless supply. I'M TELLING YOU TODAY YOU CAN TRUST HIM!
No barrier can hinder Him from pouring out His blessing. He's enduringly strong and He's entirely sincere. He's eternally steadfast and He's immortally graceful. He's imperially powerful and He's impartially merciful. He's the greatest phenomenon that has ever crossed the horizon of this world. He's God's Son, He's the sinner's Savior, He's the centerpiece of civilization. I'M TRYING TO TELL YOU CHURCH, YOU CAN TRUST HIM!
He does not have to call for help and you can't confuse Him. He doesn't need you and He doesn't need me. He stands alone in the solitude of Himself. He's august and He's unique. He's unparalleled, He's unprecedented, He's supreme, He's preeminent, He's the loftiest idea in literature, He's the highest personality in philosophy, He's the supreme problem of higher criticism, He's the fundamental doctrine of true theology, He's the cardinal necessity of spiritual religion, He's the miracle of the age, He's the superlative of everything good you can call Him. I'M TRYING TO TELL YOU CHURCH, YOU CAN TRUST HIM!
He can satisfy all your needs, and He can do it simultaneously. He supplies strength for the weak and He's available for the tempted and the tried. He sympathizes and He sees. He guards and He guides, He heals the sick, He cleansed the Leper, He forgives sinners, He discharges debtors, He delivers the captives, He defends the feeble, He blesses the young, He regards the aged, He rewards the diligent, He beautifies the meek, I'M TRYING TO TELL YOU CHURCH, YOU CAN TRUST HIM!
He's the key to knowledge, He's the well spring of wisdom, He's the doorway of deliverance, He's the pathway of peace, He's the roadway of righteousness, He's the highway of holiness, He's the gateway to glory, YOU CAN TRUST IN HIM!
He's the master of the mighty, He's the captain of the conquers, He's the head of heroes, He's the leader of legislators, He's the overseer of the overcomers, He's the governor of the governors, He's the prince of princes, He's the king of kings, He's the Lord of lords, YOU... CAN... TRUST... HIM!!!
His office is manifold, His promise is sure, His life is matchless, His goodness is limitless, His mercy is everlasting, His love never changes, His word is enough, His grace is sufficient, His reign is righteous, His yoke is easy, His burden is light, I wish I could describe Him too you, He's indescribable because He's incomprehensible, He's irresistible because He's invincible. You can't get Him off your hands, you can't get Him off your mind, you can't outlive Him and you can't live without Him. Pilate couldn't stand it when he found he couldn't stop Him, and Pilate couldn't find any fault in Him. And the witnesses couldn't get their testimonies to agree and Herod couldn't kill Him, and death couldn't handle Him and thank God the grave couldn't hold Him.
There was nobody before Him and there will be nobody after Him. He has no predecessor, He'll have no successor, you can't impeach Him and He's not going to resign. YOU CAN TRUST HIM!!!
-S.M. Lockridge
There is very little that I can add to this. WHEW! Only this, "You CAN trust Him!"
He's the one who made you, it is He who made us and not we ourselves. The heavens declare the glory of God and the firmament shows His handiwork. No means or measure can define His limitless love and no farseeing telescope can bring into visibility the coastline of His shoreless supply. I'M TELLING YOU TODAY YOU CAN TRUST HIM!
No barrier can hinder Him from pouring out His blessing. He's enduringly strong and He's entirely sincere. He's eternally steadfast and He's immortally graceful. He's imperially powerful and He's impartially merciful. He's the greatest phenomenon that has ever crossed the horizon of this world. He's God's Son, He's the sinner's Savior, He's the centerpiece of civilization. I'M TRYING TO TELL YOU CHURCH, YOU CAN TRUST HIM!
He does not have to call for help and you can't confuse Him. He doesn't need you and He doesn't need me. He stands alone in the solitude of Himself. He's august and He's unique. He's unparalleled, He's unprecedented, He's supreme, He's preeminent, He's the loftiest idea in literature, He's the highest personality in philosophy, He's the supreme problem of higher criticism, He's the fundamental doctrine of true theology, He's the cardinal necessity of spiritual religion, He's the miracle of the age, He's the superlative of everything good you can call Him. I'M TRYING TO TELL YOU CHURCH, YOU CAN TRUST HIM!
He can satisfy all your needs, and He can do it simultaneously. He supplies strength for the weak and He's available for the tempted and the tried. He sympathizes and He sees. He guards and He guides, He heals the sick, He cleansed the Leper, He forgives sinners, He discharges debtors, He delivers the captives, He defends the feeble, He blesses the young, He regards the aged, He rewards the diligent, He beautifies the meek, I'M TRYING TO TELL YOU CHURCH, YOU CAN TRUST HIM!
He's the key to knowledge, He's the well spring of wisdom, He's the doorway of deliverance, He's the pathway of peace, He's the roadway of righteousness, He's the highway of holiness, He's the gateway to glory, YOU CAN TRUST IN HIM!
He's the master of the mighty, He's the captain of the conquers, He's the head of heroes, He's the leader of legislators, He's the overseer of the overcomers, He's the governor of the governors, He's the prince of princes, He's the king of kings, He's the Lord of lords, YOU... CAN... TRUST... HIM!!!
His office is manifold, His promise is sure, His life is matchless, His goodness is limitless, His mercy is everlasting, His love never changes, His word is enough, His grace is sufficient, His reign is righteous, His yoke is easy, His burden is light, I wish I could describe Him too you, He's indescribable because He's incomprehensible, He's irresistible because He's invincible. You can't get Him off your hands, you can't get Him off your mind, you can't outlive Him and you can't live without Him. Pilate couldn't stand it when he found he couldn't stop Him, and Pilate couldn't find any fault in Him. And the witnesses couldn't get their testimonies to agree and Herod couldn't kill Him, and death couldn't handle Him and thank God the grave couldn't hold Him.
There was nobody before Him and there will be nobody after Him. He has no predecessor, He'll have no successor, you can't impeach Him and He's not going to resign. YOU CAN TRUST HIM!!!
-S.M. Lockridge
There is very little that I can add to this. WHEW! Only this, "You CAN trust Him!"
Monday, July 17, 2006
A New Fellowship
Sunday, Kathleen and I had the great fortune to share worship with a new (to us) fellowship just a few miles from our home. We flipped a coin, so to say, and chose to visit Grace Community Church (Wiggins and Yelm Hwy, for those who want to know).
To say we came away feeling like we were at home would be an understatement. Those of you in our immedate family know that we have found it hard to find a fellowship where in we truly felt we fit in. We may have found it here, however.
I do not like "church shopping". It feels wrong. What do they believe on this, and how about that, and so on. You look for this and that but you don't really see anything at all. I guess it is more about the "feel" you get.
At Grace Community Church we "felt" like we were home from the first anthem. Yes, it was a good ol' anthem - hillbilly style, complete with harmonica, fiddle, yukalaylee, drums and guitar. Almost all the worship team were "greybeards" except for the fiddle player. How funny is that!
Really, from the very beginning, there was a spirit that seemed to permiate into my soul. Perhaps I truly was that needy, or perhaps God just had something that special for me that day. Either way, I am truly thankful that we chose to visit Grace Church.
I think that Kathleen feels the same way too...you will have to ask her.
Blessings,
Michael
To say we came away feeling like we were at home would be an understatement. Those of you in our immedate family know that we have found it hard to find a fellowship where in we truly felt we fit in. We may have found it here, however.
I do not like "church shopping". It feels wrong. What do they believe on this, and how about that, and so on. You look for this and that but you don't really see anything at all. I guess it is more about the "feel" you get.
At Grace Community Church we "felt" like we were home from the first anthem. Yes, it was a good ol' anthem - hillbilly style, complete with harmonica, fiddle, yukalaylee, drums and guitar. Almost all the worship team were "greybeards" except for the fiddle player. How funny is that!
Really, from the very beginning, there was a spirit that seemed to permiate into my soul. Perhaps I truly was that needy, or perhaps God just had something that special for me that day. Either way, I am truly thankful that we chose to visit Grace Church.
I think that Kathleen feels the same way too...you will have to ask her.
Blessings,
Michael
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
The Fog of Morning?
My eldest daughter Kassie has a Blog, http://ketchumsblock.blogspot.com/ , where she shares many of her feelings and thoughts. Her latest post entitled 'Controlled Abandon' is perhaps one of her best. In it she shares about having been awakened early in the morning, much like Samuel in the old testament, having felt a touch and heard a voice calling out her name.
Of course, there was no one there. No one to touch her or to speak her name, and yet, she surly felt a touch and heard her name called out. Many of us, who call our selves Believers, have had similar experiences, times where, in unexpected ways, God gets our attention. And, just like Samuel, we too are slow to recognize what is really happening. We are slow in understanding, that it is God himself, who is endeavoring to get our attention.
Is it the fog of morning, waking suddenly or just the confusion of a mind not yet engaged that makes us so slow with recognition? Why does it take three or four attempts on His part to get our attention? Is something wrong with me?
I am more and more convinced, almost daily, that my problem with recognizing His voice quickly has more to do with the continual over stimulation of my senses, minute upon minute, hour after hour, day upon day, to where I just am unable to discern Him calling out my name. How much do you tune out every day? What do you allow in? What do you block out?
I am very cognizant of the lack of quiet time in my life. My goal for the next few weeks, is to see if I can recover some time in my day, to just be quiet. Perhaps then I will be a little faster in recognizing God’s voice when he calls out my name.
Of course, there was no one there. No one to touch her or to speak her name, and yet, she surly felt a touch and heard her name called out. Many of us, who call our selves Believers, have had similar experiences, times where, in unexpected ways, God gets our attention. And, just like Samuel, we too are slow to recognize what is really happening. We are slow in understanding, that it is God himself, who is endeavoring to get our attention.
Is it the fog of morning, waking suddenly or just the confusion of a mind not yet engaged that makes us so slow with recognition? Why does it take three or four attempts on His part to get our attention? Is something wrong with me?
I am more and more convinced, almost daily, that my problem with recognizing His voice quickly has more to do with the continual over stimulation of my senses, minute upon minute, hour after hour, day upon day, to where I just am unable to discern Him calling out my name. How much do you tune out every day? What do you allow in? What do you block out?
I am very cognizant of the lack of quiet time in my life. My goal for the next few weeks, is to see if I can recover some time in my day, to just be quiet. Perhaps then I will be a little faster in recognizing God’s voice when he calls out my name.
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
Is War the Answer?
Please know that this is not about Iraq...it is about war.
My son-in-law, JR, posted a statement, well more than a statemen, on his blog, http://jarcaines.blogspot.com/, this week that really has caused me to revisit a difficult subject; Is war ever right? He had watched the movie "Gandhi" and it had prompted him to ask a few questions. Difficult ones I might add.
Following is my reply to his wondering about war, being a follower of Christ's teachings and our choosing violence over other alternatives. This is a REALLY BIG SUBJECT and it would take volumes and perhaps even a life time or two to really do the subject a fair hearing.
--------------------------------------------
If you do not stand up to the bully next door you end up loosing everything. Should we become like Chamberlin and appease the Hitler's of our time and risk loosing our nation in the process?
There is a distinct difference between how we, collectivly as a nation, and how we, as Christian brothers and sisters, should act and react. It takes a nation to stand up to the bully who imparts great injustice, even unto death, on his citizens.
Love is very powerful and the desire to avoid conflict is heightened all the more by Christ's love in us, and yet, love, even Christ's love, without backbone, isn't love at all. It all too quickly degenerates into cowardice.
Once lines are drawn in the sand, and that line is crossed, action is required to make the bully back off. I don't think that we can go very far before we must draw some lines in the sand whether it is a personal boundry or one with global multi-national implications.
Even Gandhi drew a line in the sand and when the time came and he had to act he chose a "war" of sorts. He did not choose to "war" with violence but he did choose to "go to war" non the less. He was incredibly successful in influencing change in India.
In the end it was the one thing he choose not to do the was his undoing, showing us just how confusing and difficult these decisions are.
No sane person likes or wants violence a part of their life, yet it all too often happens, even within our own families.
The conflict we are engaged in in Iraq is not a "War on Terror" as we hear daily, but a "War on Terrorist" (those who would commit indescriminate terror). These are people who find pleasure in beheading their foe and do not mind blowing themselves up o further their cause.
It is not a war against the Iraqi people but a war on those who would destroy the Iraqi people. This is a VERY BIG difference.
What outcome would you really expect to achieve by turning the other cheek?
JR, please know that I am not a proponent of war. However, there are times when it is necessary. Alas, all too often it seems to be implimented way too soon.
And as Brandon so aptly put it: "War Sucks."
My son-in-law, JR, posted a statement, well more than a statemen, on his blog, http://jarcaines.blogspot.com/, this week that really has caused me to revisit a difficult subject; Is war ever right? He had watched the movie "Gandhi" and it had prompted him to ask a few questions. Difficult ones I might add.
Following is my reply to his wondering about war, being a follower of Christ's teachings and our choosing violence over other alternatives. This is a REALLY BIG SUBJECT and it would take volumes and perhaps even a life time or two to really do the subject a fair hearing.
--------------------------------------------
If you do not stand up to the bully next door you end up loosing everything. Should we become like Chamberlin and appease the Hitler's of our time and risk loosing our nation in the process?
There is a distinct difference between how we, collectivly as a nation, and how we, as Christian brothers and sisters, should act and react. It takes a nation to stand up to the bully who imparts great injustice, even unto death, on his citizens.
Love is very powerful and the desire to avoid conflict is heightened all the more by Christ's love in us, and yet, love, even Christ's love, without backbone, isn't love at all. It all too quickly degenerates into cowardice.
Once lines are drawn in the sand, and that line is crossed, action is required to make the bully back off. I don't think that we can go very far before we must draw some lines in the sand whether it is a personal boundry or one with global multi-national implications.
Even Gandhi drew a line in the sand and when the time came and he had to act he chose a "war" of sorts. He did not choose to "war" with violence but he did choose to "go to war" non the less. He was incredibly successful in influencing change in India.
In the end it was the one thing he choose not to do the was his undoing, showing us just how confusing and difficult these decisions are.
No sane person likes or wants violence a part of their life, yet it all too often happens, even within our own families.
The conflict we are engaged in in Iraq is not a "War on Terror" as we hear daily, but a "War on Terrorist" (those who would commit indescriminate terror). These are people who find pleasure in beheading their foe and do not mind blowing themselves up o further their cause.
It is not a war against the Iraqi people but a war on those who would destroy the Iraqi people. This is a VERY BIG difference.
What outcome would you really expect to achieve by turning the other cheek?
JR, please know that I am not a proponent of war. However, there are times when it is necessary. Alas, all too often it seems to be implimented way too soon.
And as Brandon so aptly put it: "War Sucks."
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
My Finest Fish
Well, here it is ... the world record Artic Char from my 2001 trip to Alaska. Can't tell you where I caught it though. But it was certified by a weigh-master and by the State of Alaska Department of Fish and Game.
Monday, April 17, 2006
Face to Face with One of Wyomings Finest
We were fishing on my favorite stretch of water in Wyoming. A small creek that winds its way through a wonderful canyon filled with wild flowers and critters and then exits on to a flat plain. It winds like a slithering snake, back and forth through the valley below. You can fish what seems like miles of stream and actually only move along a few hundred yards.
I had just finished my turn catching a beautiful 15-inch brown trout on my third and last attempt. My first try ended with the fly stuck in the bushes somewhere behind me and my second was just a simple missed strike. But this one…the third attempt was right on. Wooshh…and a tight line. “Fish on,” I yelled. No one cared but me.
My fishing buddies had a bet going on whether I would be able to land the fish. Of course you have to know that they are going to do just about anything to make sure I won’t land it. Things like throw a net and try to break off the fish. Goose me while I intently try to reel it in or make loud noises that would make me jump out of my skin and make a big mistake causing the fish to go free.
These guys are supposed to be my friends…and yet this is how they behave. Well, you have to know…that…humm…yah, you need to know…I’m just as bad to them.
John had to slide down the overgrown bank and go knee deep in the soft, silt and muck to net my beautiful fish. Loren, on the other hand, had already started climbing up the bank on to the next bend.
“Oh Shit!” was all we heard. John jumped up out of the muck onto the bank in one leap. It normally would have taken a few minutes of tugging and pushing just to get his feet loose with the real possibility of having to go back down to retrieve a boot left behind in the mud. I, on the other hand, just needed to turn from my crouched down position to see what had spooked Loren so much.
There he was. Sliding back down the bank, running backwards across the water, with his rod going one way and hat another. He was moving so fast that his feet didn’t even leave marks on the stream bottom. His face said it all. FEAR. Terror. Intense concern for his own safety. He wasn’t thinking about us, just himself. Nice guy for a friend.
And there it was. Just a little fellow, oh, maybe 4 to 5 feet long. You would have thought it might have been those big, long teeth that causes all the commotion but it was the baby rattle he held in his tail that caused the most fear. It was here that Loren came face to face with a 5-foot Rocky Mountain Rattle Snake!
I had just finished my turn catching a beautiful 15-inch brown trout on my third and last attempt. My first try ended with the fly stuck in the bushes somewhere behind me and my second was just a simple missed strike. But this one…the third attempt was right on. Wooshh…and a tight line. “Fish on,” I yelled. No one cared but me.
My fishing buddies had a bet going on whether I would be able to land the fish. Of course you have to know that they are going to do just about anything to make sure I won’t land it. Things like throw a net and try to break off the fish. Goose me while I intently try to reel it in or make loud noises that would make me jump out of my skin and make a big mistake causing the fish to go free.
These guys are supposed to be my friends…and yet this is how they behave. Well, you have to know…that…humm…yah, you need to know…I’m just as bad to them.
John had to slide down the overgrown bank and go knee deep in the soft, silt and muck to net my beautiful fish. Loren, on the other hand, had already started climbing up the bank on to the next bend.
“Oh Shit!” was all we heard. John jumped up out of the muck onto the bank in one leap. It normally would have taken a few minutes of tugging and pushing just to get his feet loose with the real possibility of having to go back down to retrieve a boot left behind in the mud. I, on the other hand, just needed to turn from my crouched down position to see what had spooked Loren so much.
There he was. Sliding back down the bank, running backwards across the water, with his rod going one way and hat another. He was moving so fast that his feet didn’t even leave marks on the stream bottom. His face said it all. FEAR. Terror. Intense concern for his own safety. He wasn’t thinking about us, just himself. Nice guy for a friend.
And there it was. Just a little fellow, oh, maybe 4 to 5 feet long. You would have thought it might have been those big, long teeth that causes all the commotion but it was the baby rattle he held in his tail that caused the most fear. It was here that Loren came face to face with a 5-foot Rocky Mountain Rattle Snake!
Wednesday, April 05, 2006
A Moment on Mystery Creek
Loren, John and I had been fishing our favorite water – a little stream in central Wyoming just outside of Ten Sleep. I call it our favorite because every trip we take somewhere else we always say “why didn’t we go to …”
I’m not going to tell you much more in the way of a name other than to call it “Mystery Creek”. Mystery creek runs through a beautiful valley, slowly meandering along for a few miles. It runs through a golf course and then through a number of ranches. At one point it goes through a canyon that is truly gorgeous. Tall walls, rough ledges, holes and caves for fanged animals to hid in and brightly dressed, red striped, rainbow trout and black backed brown trout.
Before I tell you too much more you need to understand our concept of fishing. It’s called Tag Fishing: One person goes up front fishing while two guys lag behind offering encouragement and distractions along with a lot of friendly ridicule. You get three strikes and you’re out. Three attempts to catch a fish. That’s all. If you cast into the bushes or hang up in the weeds it counts against you. If that happens you grab one of your buddy’s rod and continue fishing. Once you catch a fish you go to the back of the line.
At some point in the early afternoon, Loren and I separated from John for a while. We went right along the inside of an island and he went left. We were fishing our way through some rough over grown banks, sliding down into the water to work our way up stream to a really nice flat above a log jam dam. From past years fishing here we knew that there were some 20” brown trout that resided in the back of the flat. Loren went across first.
He doesn’t know it yet but since he is almost a foot taller than me I let him go first so I know if it is safe for me to cross or if I should look for a shallower pathway. I usually need to find another way. If I just blindly follow I almost always fill my waders with that cold water. His waist is almost at my arm pits. Even with my hands held high above my head, walking on my tippy-toes I can’t cross at the same place. Maybe I should adopt jumping on to his back and riding across. Now there’s a thought.
Loren was on the north bank intently fishing some pocket water and I was slowly approaching behind when I saw a HUGE boil WHAT A FISH!
I heard even before I watched Loren’s chest fill with air. I knew a scream was about to be pressed out of his lungs even as he lunged back with his arms flailing the air around him. The only other time I ever saw him move so quickly was when he was confronted nose to nose with a western rattlesnake while climbing out of this very same creek.
Actually it was more like his lungs were FILLING with air. Gulping nonexistent air in an attempt to scream but nothing ever came. I could however, hear his heart pounding. Funny thing was, this is the wrong reaction for a truly huge fish!
A moment later it was my turn. That same heart stopping, thunderous, gasping for air was all mine. There it was directly in front of me – coming my way at break neck speed. All I could do was stand there paralyzed, gasping for air that would not fill my lungs. It swam right between my legs, bumping against my legs, almost knocking me over.
It took a full two minutes before I could talk a coherent sentence. It was another three minutes or so before my heart stopped pounding enough for me to be able to concentrate enough to get out of the water and check my pants.
Loren said, “Did you see that!” I slowly replied, “That was the largest beaver I have ever seen!”
I’m not going to tell you much more in the way of a name other than to call it “Mystery Creek”. Mystery creek runs through a beautiful valley, slowly meandering along for a few miles. It runs through a golf course and then through a number of ranches. At one point it goes through a canyon that is truly gorgeous. Tall walls, rough ledges, holes and caves for fanged animals to hid in and brightly dressed, red striped, rainbow trout and black backed brown trout.
Before I tell you too much more you need to understand our concept of fishing. It’s called Tag Fishing: One person goes up front fishing while two guys lag behind offering encouragement and distractions along with a lot of friendly ridicule. You get three strikes and you’re out. Three attempts to catch a fish. That’s all. If you cast into the bushes or hang up in the weeds it counts against you. If that happens you grab one of your buddy’s rod and continue fishing. Once you catch a fish you go to the back of the line.
At some point in the early afternoon, Loren and I separated from John for a while. We went right along the inside of an island and he went left. We were fishing our way through some rough over grown banks, sliding down into the water to work our way up stream to a really nice flat above a log jam dam. From past years fishing here we knew that there were some 20” brown trout that resided in the back of the flat. Loren went across first.
He doesn’t know it yet but since he is almost a foot taller than me I let him go first so I know if it is safe for me to cross or if I should look for a shallower pathway. I usually need to find another way. If I just blindly follow I almost always fill my waders with that cold water. His waist is almost at my arm pits. Even with my hands held high above my head, walking on my tippy-toes I can’t cross at the same place. Maybe I should adopt jumping on to his back and riding across. Now there’s a thought.
Loren was on the north bank intently fishing some pocket water and I was slowly approaching behind when I saw a HUGE boil WHAT A FISH!
I heard even before I watched Loren’s chest fill with air. I knew a scream was about to be pressed out of his lungs even as he lunged back with his arms flailing the air around him. The only other time I ever saw him move so quickly was when he was confronted nose to nose with a western rattlesnake while climbing out of this very same creek.
Actually it was more like his lungs were FILLING with air. Gulping nonexistent air in an attempt to scream but nothing ever came. I could however, hear his heart pounding. Funny thing was, this is the wrong reaction for a truly huge fish!
A moment later it was my turn. That same heart stopping, thunderous, gasping for air was all mine. There it was directly in front of me – coming my way at break neck speed. All I could do was stand there paralyzed, gasping for air that would not fill my lungs. It swam right between my legs, bumping against my legs, almost knocking me over.
It took a full two minutes before I could talk a coherent sentence. It was another three minutes or so before my heart stopped pounding enough for me to be able to concentrate enough to get out of the water and check my pants.
Loren said, “Did you see that!” I slowly replied, “That was the largest beaver I have ever seen!”
Tuesday, January 03, 2006
Dirty Sally’s Strawberry Rhubarb Pie
We drove all night changing drivers every three hours. With blood shot eyes peering into the rising morning sun we cruised down the hill into Ten Sleep. From the top of the hill you can view the entire settlement – all 23 buildings on Main Street, the High School and a number of old-time residences.
Ten Sleep has two restaurants that are open when the cook feels like cooking, three bars and one “Stop-N-Go” market. The only pay phone In town is at the Stop-N-Go and it has a 20 foot cord on the receiver so you can dial the number you want and then sit in your car, out of the weather, to talk. At times there are three cars lined up waiting their turn to use the phone.
Perhaps the best establishment in town is Dirty Sally’s Saloon. You enter through good, old-fashioned, swinging saloon doors. I don’t think I would be able to guess how many cowboys have passed through those doors.
At some point in time the saloon was purchased by the shapely Kitty Russell who played the operator of the Long Branch Saloon on Gunsmoke for so many years. Her TV name was Dirty Sally.
I mentioned that this was perhaps the “best” establishment in town for a number of reasons, not the least of which is the entrance. This is real western – swing doors and clapboard exterior. There are none of the Marlboro or Coors advertising signs plastered on the out side – you know – 6-packs for $6.99 stuff. This is a classy place.
As you enter there is a small general store that has an amazing amount of supplies in it. The kind of stuff you wish you could get at the local hardware store but they don’t know were to get it stuff. Off to the side, around the corner and through a doorway, is the gun/knife/brass knuckles/everything to get you in trouble stuff. There is an amazing collection of blow-em-up stuff in there. I know this because the gun room is where you have to go if you want to get a fishing license. Oh, yeah, they have some fishing supplies there too.
At the back of the main room is the bar with the local gossip page is posted on the wall – you know – the bounced check list – there for all who enter to see.
It is here, at the bar, that three city boys made there entrance into the folklore of Ten Sleep. You see, we started something new in this town that had not seen anything new since the introduction of the automobile.
Having purchased our fishing licenses we sundered up the bar and asked about getting a strawberry rhubarb pie for dinner. The young gal behind the counter told us that there was none available but she could get one for tomorrow if we ordered it today. We immediately placed our order. Her next comment caused each of us to get a little funny feeling in our stomachs. “Ya’ll know that our pies are made by the girls in the home economics class at the high school, don’t you?”
Gulp. Decision time – pie or no pie. We said, “well I guess we’ll just have to give it a try on one condition.” “What’s that,” she replied. “Double or nothing,” said John.
“What?” she questioned. “You know, we’ll flip you for it – double or nothing,” said John. She got a funny look on her face and said she’d be right back. A moment later she returned with the manager (her husband) and asked us to explain John’s proposition to him. He got a big belly laugh out of it and said “Sure, you’re on.”
We lost! The total price for the complete strawberry rhubarb pie, after doubling the original amount was $5! Loren chimed in, “No way! We’re not paying that much! It costs more than that for a single slice from where we come from.” I think that we settled on $7.50 for that first pie.
It was time to go fishing…and so we did.
Ten Sleep has two restaurants that are open when the cook feels like cooking, three bars and one “Stop-N-Go” market. The only pay phone In town is at the Stop-N-Go and it has a 20 foot cord on the receiver so you can dial the number you want and then sit in your car, out of the weather, to talk. At times there are three cars lined up waiting their turn to use the phone.
Perhaps the best establishment in town is Dirty Sally’s Saloon. You enter through good, old-fashioned, swinging saloon doors. I don’t think I would be able to guess how many cowboys have passed through those doors.
At some point in time the saloon was purchased by the shapely Kitty Russell who played the operator of the Long Branch Saloon on Gunsmoke for so many years. Her TV name was Dirty Sally.
I mentioned that this was perhaps the “best” establishment in town for a number of reasons, not the least of which is the entrance. This is real western – swing doors and clapboard exterior. There are none of the Marlboro or Coors advertising signs plastered on the out side – you know – 6-packs for $6.99 stuff. This is a classy place.
As you enter there is a small general store that has an amazing amount of supplies in it. The kind of stuff you wish you could get at the local hardware store but they don’t know were to get it stuff. Off to the side, around the corner and through a doorway, is the gun/knife/brass knuckles/everything to get you in trouble stuff. There is an amazing collection of blow-em-up stuff in there. I know this because the gun room is where you have to go if you want to get a fishing license. Oh, yeah, they have some fishing supplies there too.
At the back of the main room is the bar with the local gossip page is posted on the wall – you know – the bounced check list – there for all who enter to see.
It is here, at the bar, that three city boys made there entrance into the folklore of Ten Sleep. You see, we started something new in this town that had not seen anything new since the introduction of the automobile.
Having purchased our fishing licenses we sundered up the bar and asked about getting a strawberry rhubarb pie for dinner. The young gal behind the counter told us that there was none available but she could get one for tomorrow if we ordered it today. We immediately placed our order. Her next comment caused each of us to get a little funny feeling in our stomachs. “Ya’ll know that our pies are made by the girls in the home economics class at the high school, don’t you?”
Gulp. Decision time – pie or no pie. We said, “well I guess we’ll just have to give it a try on one condition.” “What’s that,” she replied. “Double or nothing,” said John.
“What?” she questioned. “You know, we’ll flip you for it – double or nothing,” said John. She got a funny look on her face and said she’d be right back. A moment later she returned with the manager (her husband) and asked us to explain John’s proposition to him. He got a big belly laugh out of it and said “Sure, you’re on.”
We lost! The total price for the complete strawberry rhubarb pie, after doubling the original amount was $5! Loren chimed in, “No way! We’re not paying that much! It costs more than that for a single slice from where we come from.” I think that we settled on $7.50 for that first pie.
It was time to go fishing…and so we did.
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