hunting
As young men, my dad and his brother, my Uncle Bill loved to do all the normal guy thins that most young men want to do, and hunting was right up there near the top, along with fishing, and pretty much anything that had to do with guns or dynamite, such as blowing a tree stump out of the ground, or sinking the front gate, and then fixing it before their mom found out. They were rough and rugged boys who, like most young men of those times, were growing up too fast. Times were hard, and families needed all the help they could get from all their children. Hunting was something families could do to supply food for their tables, and rabbits were always in abundance…then and now. Of course, for my dad and uncle, the guns were a cool as the hunting. They both loved guns and knew how to use them from the time they were little. Uncle Bill was hunting this particular day with a Mossberg, and my dad was using a 1906 Winchester.
Like most boys, they had high hopes for their hunts. They were going to bag that big buck, or the most rabbits, or even bring in the most fish. I’m sure they competed against each other, 
but I think that quite often, they pooled their resources and tried to beat the record they set the last time they went. Of course, nothing went to waste either, because that was not how things were done. The kills they made provided food for their family during those hard times of the great depression.
Though times were tough, I don’t really think my dad or his brother noticed it much, nor did their sisters really. Sure, they knew times were tough, and that everyone had to help out, but it was simply a way of life, and nothing they thought was so special. I guess that is pretty common with most people who aspire to do great things, whether it be heroic acts, service to country, or stepping up for family. Heroes come in all kinds of forms, and I’m sure that my dad’s family thought of their kids as heroes for all the help they gave them through the years.
Isaac is the most serious of the children of my niece, Jenny and her husband Steve. The other children are always laughing, and Isaac laughs too, but much of the time he seems to be contemplating the complexity of the world around him. I know that sounds strange for a young man of only seven years, but when I look at Isaac, I see a young man who is a thinker. He doesn’t just look for the funny things in life, but rather wants to know the who, what, where, why, and how of things and situations around him. He may not even know that yet, but I see it in his eyes. I was that way when I was a kid. Sometimes the things going on around me went by unnoticed, because I was always deep 
in thought about something that came to my mind. I wanted to know why things went the way they did, so I sat and thought about it. I see that very much in Isaac too. He is a boy with many things on his mind.
Of course, Isaac has a funny side to, and is quick to smile. He is the kind of little boy that is a good friend, because he understands how to be a friend. He is kind and sensitive to others. The youngest son out of three boys, and older brother to his sister Aleesia, he knows how to get along with others. He knows how to fight battles with his brothers, and how to be gentle with his little sister. It’s a good mix. He also has a love of pets, and takes good care of 
them. Puppies think of Isaac as their best friend. He is truly a complex little boy.
Isaac is, nevertheless, all boy. He loves to go shooting with his dad, and looks forward to the day when he will be able to go hunting with his dad. In a day when so many people have a fear of guns, Isaac’s parents are teaching their children a healthy respect for guns and for life, so that as they get older, they will not see guns as a weapon to be used in anger, but one to be used to hunt and to protect. The best time to learn that is as a child, and that is what Isaac and his siblings are learning. Today is Isaac’s 7th birthday. Happy birthday Isaac!! Have a great day!! We love you!!
Tonight was our second night of bowling, and as is normal for this time of year, there were a number of people who weren’t there. I guess bowling just can’t hold a candle to the hunt. Of course, lots of people love to hunt, but it always sticks in my mind that it is men for the most part. I remember as a little kid, that my parents both went hunting, and there was an antelope bust mounted and hung in our living room for all of my childhood. In fact, I’ll bet it is still up in my mom’s attic…somewhere. We got to go hunting with them on time as little kids. I don’t remember much about it, except that it was cold and boring. I guess that must just be because I was seeing the whole thing through the eyes of a little girl. After that we stayed with grandma while they went hunting, and that was usually a better option…unless I managed to get myself in trouble…never a good thing with my grandma.
Hunting has been a tradition in many families since time began I suppose. Of course the main purpose is to provide food for the family, but there is more to it than that. For many men, it is a time shared with the guys they hang out with, while their wives stay home. And while the guys are hanging out in the woods for a week, believe me, the wives are not at home pining away. They are having some nice me time at home and with their friends. Oh, I know that doesn’t apply to every woman, because I know several that like to go hunting.
One girl I know who would like to go hunting is my niece Jenny. She and her family love to go out and shoot their guns, and recently her oldest son, Xander passed his hunter safety course, so this would be the first time he would actually get to hunt. They were all looking forward to the trip, when Xander told his mom that he doesn’t want her to go hunting with them this time, because it is a boys trip. Whether she is a hunter or not, on this hunt, being a girl is apparently very uncool.
If you were to ask Garrett what he likes to do, you would probably find that his ideas of fun would fall squarely in the area of guy stuff. Garrett likes just about everything from golf, to hunting, to big trucks, and of course, Garrett loves sports of all kinds…and always has. Yes, I am aware that lots of girls like those things too, but to me they will always remain guy things…or maybe guy things that girls do too, sometimes.
Garrett also has a funny side. He loves to joke around, and especially to tease his sisters, Michelle and Lacey, and is sure to be the one goofing off at the exact moment that a picture is snapped. Anyone who knows Garrett has personally witnessed his goofy side, because it is simply not something Garrett can hide. It just bubbles out of him. One minute he might be serious, and the next he is busy making everyone laugh. When you think about it, that is a really great way to be.
These day’s Garrett is a grown up, with a job and all…not that a job changes the way he is. It’s not about whether or not Garrett is funny or whether or not he has a job though, in this case, its about what the job is. I thought about the fact that Garrett is a welder. That is what my dad was, and Garrett’s job reminds me that in many ways he is his grandpa’s grandson. Dad could be quite a cut up too. There are many things about Garrett that tend to remind me of my Dad. Mostly, I suppose it is a group of things. Mostly things that you can’t put your finger on separately, they just add up to a similarity, and that is an 
ok thing. I like the way many traits pass down from generation to generation and from ancestors to generations of the future. It somehow gives us a sense of belonging to someone…of belonging to a family, and really, that is what makes us who we are. Bloodlines, DNA, and simply imitation of those we love.
Today is Garrett’s birthday. It’s hard to believe that you aren’t a kid anymore…especially when you are being a cut up, but I am proud of the man you have become. I hope you have a wonderful day. Happy birthday Garrett!! We love you!!
When I was a kid, I thought that mostly men carried or used guns…probably because I watched too many old Western shows in which the women were portrayed as weak and needing protection. The only women who carried or used guns were looked upon like…well less than womanly…I mean most of those women were outlaws who wore mens pants for Pete’s sake. The only time the women in the Old West movies used a gun was when there was no other choice, and no man around to save her, and even then, she usually lost the fight, unless she was the main star. Needless to say it was probably a pretty warped view of the women of the West on my part.
Of course, now that I am older, I know that this portrayal was very incorrect. The women of the Old West were a tough lot. They might have been looked at by people from back East as less than womanly, but times were changing, and women had to be tough to survive in the Old West. The men who came to settle the West needed women who could work side by side with them and who were tough enough to take care of themselves when the men were away. Only the most determined women were going to be able to make it here. Things have changed some now. There are probably as many women back east that can handle a gun as there are women out west who can. Womem are active in many careers that require them to carry a gun on a regular basis, and be tough enough to go up against the men they must to survive, whether it be in war or law enforcement.
My grandmother was one of those women who was able to handle a gun, and while they never moved as far west as my dad and my aunts did, they did not live in the east either. Wisconsin and Minnesota were wilder places back then, and even in North Dakota in the early 1900’s there was need for a gun. Of course, mostly the guns were used for hunting, but had the need ever arisen, my grandmother would have taken on man or beast to protect her children. She was one tough lady, who worked hard on the farm, and raised her children right, and I am very proud of all she did. I only wish I had been able to know her, but I was only 3 months old when she left us on July 11, 1956. I look forward to getting to know her in Heaven, because I’m sure she will have some stories to tell.
A few years ago, Bob and I had the opportunity to take a trip to Canada that was an award from one of the companies I write insurance for. They had set up several things for us to do, such as hikes, an imitation Queen of England for us to meet, who was very good by the way, and even an animal exhibit, complete with birds you can’t even get close to normally. Canada was beautiful, and we had a wonderful time. We loved the hike we took, which ended at a waterfall, and there was also a river right behind our hotel that was running very high and made for a beautiful view as well.
One of the things that I enjoyed the most was the animals. They had a set of sled dogs that were just beautiful, and thankfully not like the mean one on the movie “Snow Dogs”. There was also a hawk and several other birds. But the one that most impressed me was the miniature owl. He was a Northern Pygmy Owl and he stood about 5″ or 6″ tall. He was so cute. I had the opportunity to actually hold him on my finger, and he willingly sat there. I would have thought he would have been skiddish, since they are a very timid owl. They normally hide as much as they can. Of course, I’m quite sure they aren’t timid when they are hunting at night, but then I suppose that there aren’t many humans out then either.
I did a little research on this littl owl, and found that when they get excited, they twitch 
their tail…and here I thought he was trying to keep his balance, hahahaha!! One thing that surprised me was how gentle he was while sitting on my finger. One would think that with claws like that he would have scratched or something, but he didn’t…and believe me, I was very grateful. His feet kind of tickled my finger, especially when he moved around a little, but I was so fascinated that it never occurred to me to feel nervous about what he would do. He was just too beautiful to take my eyes off of, and I had never expected to be able to actually hold an owl. Our trip was wonderful, and one I will never forget, and I am glad I have this picture to remember my moment with the Northern Pygmy Owl.
My brother-in-law, Mike is a fraternal twin, something that was new to our family. He is one of six children, 3 boys and 3 girls. Their family was lively, as any family with 6 kids would be. There was always something going on, and I’ll bet that with 3 boys and 3 girls, there was a lot of picking on the sisters going on too. Having not had brothers myself, I wouldn’t know how that is, but I have heard all the typical horror stories told by friends who had brothers, and of course, by my own granddaughter, Shai, who is quite thankful that she only had one brother.
I think that being part of a big family teaches teamwork, and Mike seems to have learned that lesson very well. Whenever there is a big project to do around my mom’s house, we can always count on Mike to pitch in and help out. He is quick to help with painting, yard work, deck building, and any other project. With continued maintenance needed at Mom’s house, these projects are ongoing, and they mean that the guys is the family might have to give up a weekend of fishing or camping to do them. Still they never complain, and for that we are grateful.
Mike is a patient man, which is an important trait, in any area of ones life, but Mike also has a great sense of humor, and an infectious laugh. When something strikes him as funny, it seems like his whole being gets into it. That kind of laugh makes everyone want to get in on the joke. I would think that his sense of humor would make their house a great place to live and grow up. And as in most households, sometimes a sense of humor is a matter of survival. With three kids, I’m sure he and my sister, Alena had those moments when the only thing that got you through it was that sense of humor.
Mike is very much a sportsman. He enjoys all of the outdoor sports like hunting, fishing, and camping. He is an avid football, basketball, and baseball fan too. He has played on local baseball teams in the summer. He likes to go to the shooting range for target 
practice, and at some point this summer, Bob and I plan to go along and give that a try. Now if that is anything like the way I play golf…well, let’s just say that it’s a good thing that people don’t stand beyond a certain line, because I could be dangerous. Maybe Mike can give me some pointers, because I certainly need them. Mike likes bowling too, and has bowled on local leagues. If it has to do with sports, chances are Mike is interested.
Today is Mike’s birthday. Happy birthday Mike!! Our family has been very blessed to have you in it. You are a great brother-in-law. Have a wonderful day!! We love you!!
During the years of the Great Depression, people had to do whatever was necessary to make ends meet. The backyard garden became a necessity, not a hobby. Hunting and fishing really became a vital part of life, not just a pastime. People had to make their own repairs around the house, rather than hiring it done. People put blankets up for curtains, and made their own clothes. I suppose it was like a move back in time…to the time when their ancestors didn’t have a store to go to, or a repairman to call, so they did what they had to do, on their own. I would imagine that there were a lot of repairs that the repairman would have scratched his head at…just trying to figure out how it ran at all.
While the things the people of the Great Depression era did were a bit unusual, and were an essential part of making ends meet, they were also a part of their independence. They didn’t want a government handout…even when they had to take it, they didn’t want it. They were used to taking care of themselves. Nevertheless, jobs were scarce, and often required the men to travel for work, leaving their wives and young children to run the farm. School became a luxury, because the kids were needed at home to plow, weed, and harvest the crops to put food on the table. Nothing was wasted either. They cooked the feet, tongue, and even brains of an animal for food. They didn’t necessarily kill an animal, if all they needed was the feathers for a mattress. Can you 
imagine plucking the feathers from a goose while it is alive?? I would be afraid it would come after me, but it was well known then, that the feathers would grow back, just like our hair, of course, cutting our hair doesn’t hurt.
Tough times can make or break a nation and it’s people I guess, but if we are a people, determined to make it on our own, and help this nation be great at the same time, then we can be a nation who can handle difficult times with grace and dignity. If we become a nation of people who are willing to sit back and let the government take care of us, then we will be a truly poor nation indeed.
