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Monthly Archives: January 2013
Today, January 29, marks the 50th anniversary of poet Robert Frost’s death. Why am I noting this? Well, it just happens that Frost is a distant relative of mine.
I have been one acquainted with the night.
I have walked out in rain — and back in rain.
I have outwalked the furthest city light.
I have looked down the saddest city lane.
I have passed by the watchman on his beat
And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.
I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet
When far away an interrupted cry
Came over houses from another street,
But not to call me back or say good-bye;
And further still at an unearthly height,
A luminary clock against the sky
Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.
I have been one acquainted with the night.
Janis Joplin should be celebrating her 70th birthday today.
Those of us of a “certain age” remember the Alan Sherman song that started off, “Hello Mudda, hello Fada…” This morning surfing the site called Bits and Pieces I came across this gem:
Our Scoutmaster told us to write to our parents in case you saw the flood on TV and got worried. We are okay. Only one of our tents and 2 sleeping bags got washed away. Luckily none of us got drowned because we were all up in the mountain looking for Adam when it happened.
Oh yes, please call Adam’s mother and tell her he is okay. He can’t write because of the cast. I got to ride in one of the search and rescue Jeeps. It was great. We never would have found Adam in the dark if it hadn’t been for the lightning.
Scoutmaster Ted got mad at Adam for going on a hike alone without telling anyone. Adam said he did tell him, but it was during the fire so he probably didn’t hear him. Did you know that if you put gas on a fire, the gas will blow up? The wet wood didn’t burn, but one of the tents did and also some of our clothes. Matthew is going to look weird until his hair grows back.
We will be home on Saturday if Scoutmaster Ted gets the bus fixed. It wasn’t his fault about the crash. The brakes worked okay when we left. Scoutmaster Ted said that with a bus that old, you have to expect something to break down; that’s probably why he can’t get insurance.
We think it’s a super bus. He doesn’t care if we get it dirty, and if it’s hot, sometimes he lets us ride on the bumpers. It gets pretty hot with 45 people in a bus made for 24. He let us take turns riding in the trailer until the policeman stopped and talked to us.
Scoutmaster Ted is a neat guy. Don’t worry, he is a good driver. In fact, he is teaching Horace how to drive on the mountain roads where there aren’t any cops. All we ever see up there are huge logging trucks.
This morning all of the guys were diving off the rocks and swimming out to the rapids. Scoutmaster Ted wouldn’t let me because I can’t swim, and Adam was afraid he would sink because of his cast (it’s concrete because we didn’t have any plaster), so he let us take the canoe out. It was great. You can still see some of the trees under the water from the flood.
Scoutmaster Ted isn’t crabby like some scoutmasters. He didn’t even get mad about the life jackets. He has to spend a lot of time working on the bus so we are trying not to cause him any trouble.
Guess what? We have all passed our first aid merit badges. When Andrew dived into the lake and cut his arm, we all got to see how a tourniquet works.
Steve and I threw up, but Scoutmaster Ted said it was probably just food poisoning from the left-over chicken. He said they got sick that way with food they ate in prison.. I’m so glad he got out and became our scoutmaster. He said he sure figured out how to get things done better while he was doing his time. By the way, what is a pedal-file?
I have to go now. We are going to town to post our letters and buy some more beer and ammo. Don’t worry about anything. We are fine and tonight it’s my turn to sleep in the Scoutmaster’s tent.
The recent run of mass shootings has brought the gun nuts out from under their rocks. The cry is that the only way to stop gun violence is to arm everyone. Really? Chances are, no matter how good you think you might be with a gun, or that you’re going to be able to defend yourself or anyone else if you have a gun on your person is just plain bovine excrement. Why? Check this out: