Posted by: nativeiowan | September 12, 2019

2019 v9.ol-fart’s tale

This is going to be a tale of an old-fart. An old-fart’s tale…

I think back in time. when I was still a “working-stiff”. Up in the morn, to work by a set time, a morning of bizzyness, a lunch of some sort- often liquid, an afternoon of more dizziness, head home at a set time, call into the local watering-hole, homeward after a set amount of lubricative sedative, family, n home and supper and shower and bed… then up in the morn again.

I cranked and wanked for a solid 30 years. I wore a uniform. Had hours and responsibilities and, as a business owner, I had bills and loans and debt and commitments. Monday – Friday was standard, with at least a half day on Saturday, and usually a quiet Sunday afternoon in-office catching up and closing out.

My job description was never distinct. I never got paid by-the-hour.

In the 90s I was lean and hungry and never said, “…no, I cant”, ever. My commercial loan applications were wonderful works of fiction.

In the new-century… As I was pushing 50, my business had grown, my debts and commitments increased, my schedule cranked and wanked more, and more. Bank-managers/ Wank-managers called me up and invited me out and negotiated for my business. I had good suits, and a bizzy schedule, and flew dizziness class, and had a damn good time of it all. Ended up with over 250 employees.

I “retired” as 2011 rolled around. At that time my routine completely changed. As retired-ol-fart there is no frenetic, demanding routine. Of course there is a routine but its not set-in-stone, or demanding, or penalising like before. What ever routine you have as an ol-fart is of your own making.

I gave up going to the pub and starting drinking at home. I decided I preferred my own cooking so gave up going out at all. My suits go unworn.

I found I normally woke earlier and worked harder once retired. I cultivated hobbies and rekindled old joys such as family and cultivation and dogs and things that shine and go real fast.

One of the things I recall from about 2005, when I was still kicking-arse and taking-… business-names… going into the Point Cruz Yacht Club (PCYC) in Honiara after work…

I’d buy my first liquid-sedative and slide up to what was notoriously referred to as “Table Number One”.

It took me a couple decades to graduate to Table Number One. From the lowly Volunteer, to the young-bloke trying to make a go in business, to the heard-of but still enigmatic Yank-from-the-West, to the guy who owed heaps to all the banks and was known by all.

Table Number One was reserved for the Old-Boys. The Bankers and Wankers and Managers and Accountants and Lawyers… And those business-dudes who owed enough to be impotent.

I was a young-bloke in the old-bloke clique.

So, one day as I dump my first brew down my throat, as I listen-in to the conversation that’s already started, I have a very clear thought… I bang my bottled-brew on the table and say in aloud voice, “Stop It! You guys are talking about your last doctor’s visit, about your next appointment. Stop it. What about fast cars and loud engines and beautiful boats and daring exploits and good looking women and , well, what about talking about fun stuff? Interesting stuff?”.

The collective of ol-farts looked at me for moment, pensively puffed their fags, sipped their quickly warming brews, then returned to their previous conversations.

Today’s story is one of an ol-fart feeling pretty damn good…

I’m 5 weeks and 3 days out from shoulder replacement surgery. And I feel pretty damn good. I’m done with appointments and rehab and physio. I feel pretty damn good.

It’s a hapi-ol-fart tale.

Smiles

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Posted by: nativeiowan | August 28, 2019

1029 v9.1

It’s one of those productive/ nonproductive days. I guess being productive isn’t high on my priority list today. I’m still healing from shielder surgery. Three-weeks post-op. And I think I’m doing well. Too much activity and I do get tired. I’m still sleeping a lot. And, for an old fart, feeling very well…

Well enough to start initialising a new suite of hardware/ software I recently bought. It’s always a chore. Swapping over/ upgrading to new gear. And I am such a dinosaur that I’ve gone more than a decade without new software. My laptop is over 6 years old. My old standby software programmes are woefully last-generation. Lots of glitches and slowness and hassles. I can’t upgrade my computer’s OS much l because the upgrade will leave my antiquated software behind. And you can’t just buy an upgrade of all software. Not unless you have kept up to date consistently over the last dozen or so reiterations of said software.

I think of a good buddy of mine, my main computer-guru-go-to-guy… he has resisted upgrading for much longer than I. He has kept his museum-ready 17″macbook alive for more than a decade. He runs software that I lost use of years ago. I am sooo impressed he’s managed it this long. But one day, and I wish him many more years maintaining his current platform, he, like me, will be spending a few days getting everything you need transferred, translated and working.

So I bit the bullet and am doing a 100% upgrade. It’s not for the feint of heart. I spent the money required for all new software. I’m looking forward to getting it all cranking. But I do anticipate a rocky run…

Logging on here to WordPress took a bit of time. I’m not migrating my old hard drive over to this one. It is possible to simply do a “dump”, but I’ll do it the slow and tedious way. I need to cleanup and sort out all my passwords, subscriptions and leases. One of the nice things about everything new is I get to do a lot of housekeeping.  Looking forward to it. And I do have time… Thats the good NewZ…

Whats the news? What the BlueZ?

So much horseshit out there. There is so much I simply don’t get… the name calling… the illogical accusations… you’re terrible because of what you do, but when I do the same it’s ok… Your attitude has provoked my to violence, so its all your fault…

Got a question I been mulling over:

It would appear to be a Democratic “thing” to scream and holler doom and gloom because of climate change and especially sea level rise. I have been involved in many passionate discussions on this topic. I have been abused and maligned because of my opinion(s). I am well informed OFTEN IN CAPS that the glaciers are melting and sea levels are rising at an alarming rate. Prepare for all coastal regions, island nations, to be underwater in 10 to 20 years.

So my question… which is very well discussed here… https://wattsupwiththat.com/2019/08/24/sea-level-rise-president-obama-just-bought-a-beachside-property/

Has Obama changed his mind, lost his mind, or was it all BS, all along?

And the beat goes on

More later

 

Posted by: nativeiowan | August 24, 2019

2019 v9.self fulfilling prophecy

I’m listening to a highly educated man discourse about the “problems with race” in the US. This gentleman is a University Professor. A Teacher. His speciality is “African American Studies”. He is not a white guy

I think he is peddling racism for as profit.

He discusses articulately how he see things. The current situation in the USofA. He has many examples of inherent racism. Many examples of overt racism. He is telling me, that through my status at birth, my privileged education (that I worked and paid for), that – wait for it – I am unknowingly, unwittingly racist…. AND… I need help. I need education. I need to be regulated in order to be  a better, non-racist humanbean. Maybe even a reeducation camp…

What a load of horse shit!

To reiterate, from my perspective I am being told that I am : *Unwittingly I am racist and live my life by racist rules and standards. *I need to be regulated in order to alleviate my nasty, unsocial and unforgivable behaviour.

I say it again… What a load of horseshit!

Year ago I worked as government education officer in Solomon Islands. My job entailed working in a non-formal/ adult education environment. Developing programmes, and curriculum to suit the non-formal educational needs at that time. Our topics covered the spectrum. We established programmes for numerous target groups: Parents of school age children. Women. Community leaders. Business owners and wanna bes. Our topics covered: Sanitation, water, population education, family planning, early childhood development, community organisation, and more.

I really enjoyed that job. It was dynamic. I think we did a great job. We’d plan tours and workshops and seminars. Spend long periods of time “touring” the rural villages/ areas.

I’d get numerous government departments involved. I’d chase funding and sort the logistics out. I twisted arms and set up programmes, sort out venues way rural, if not remote. Take the work we were doing to the village level dwellers.

I’d invite elected leaders and shame them into attending what turned out to be “town hall” type meetings.

And have a great time.

One situation pertinent to my topic involved some branch of the UN, I am thinking it was Save The Children… They were carrying out a “malnutrition assessment”

I was tasked with taking two well paid, well dressed and reasonably friendly “officials” on a “tour”. My original plan covered Auki to Are Are (both east and west) by canoe. Auki to Weather Coast, Malaita by road. Weather Coast Gcanal by canoe. Choiseul North Coast (my home) by canoe. And Makira east and west as far as we could drive.

Inevitably we spent about a week in Honiara meeting with Ministry  types.  Staying in an expensive hotel, eating in good restaurants each night we supposedly gathered data from the dusty offices in the Big Mango. We flew to Auki for a single night. Met with government types. Had a good meal at the old Dragon bar n grill. Flew back the next day for a few more days in Honiara. We eventually flew to Gizo where we did some diving, met with govt types and stayed at the ol Gizo Hotel. We did though, while in Gizo, do a trip by canoe to Vella. Namely to the PSS there. It was the farthest off-the-grid we traveled.

So, recapping: Two highly paid and well dressed UN officials came to assess the level/ status of malnutrition in Solomon Islands. We spent a couple weeks in meetings while staying in hotels and eating good meals, all the while collecting a decent per diem.

And guess what? They found malnutrition. They found a lot of it.

Golly, gotta luv the www… Look what I found: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/3765099                                                                   Abstract                                                                                                                                                PIP:                                                                                                                                                   Cross-sectional anthropometric studies conducted in the Western Province of the Solomon Islands indicate that over half the children become malnourished before the age of 2 years, regardless of the nutritional indicator (weight for age, weight for height, height for age) used. In comparison to reference children, weight gain slows from the age of 6 months and mean weight is static from 9-17 months. Stunting is more important than wasting. Dietary research suggests that the principle cause of this malnutrition is the low energy and protein content of an infrequently administered, bulky diet based on the staple sweet potato. The coincidental onset of growth failure and dependence on weaning foods tends to confirm a primary nutritional etiology. The 2nd year of life, when growth failure was most prominent, was also the period in which energy and protein gaps in the diet were most pronounced. The inability to satisfy dietary needs is concluded to be related to inadequate total food intake resulting from infrequent feeding of a diet overdependent on a bulky starch staple and is exacerbated by nutrient restriction during illness and a high incidence of gastrointestinal infection. An intervention program designed to respond to this situation involves a trained nurse spending 2 weeks in all major villages to demonstrate the importance of a hygienically prepared, frequently fed, miltimix weaning diet based on local foods.

So the guys that were highly paid to find malnutrition found malnutrition. Amazing! What a greta job they did.

Just as the dude highly paid to find racism, to teach racism, to sell racism… he too is successful. He sets out to find what he’s paid to find.

Last thought: When I was a “classroom” teacher I learned/ was taught to reward good behaviour and ignore bad behaviour as much as possible. Same with the numerous kids I have raised. It’s hard and may not sell as well and anger and aggression but it is much more effective.

Dunno, may be just the way I see things… as a racist and  privileged stereo-typical ol white dude…

My favourite family picture, tho it is old… IMG_0760

Angelo and Abraham and Andrew were little. Abraham is 20 now and Andrew and Angelo 17. At least 10 multiracial grandkids born to me and my family since then. I’m the old racist white guy in the middle with the farmer’s tan.

The Beat Goez On…

 

Posted by: nativeiowan | August 14, 2019

2019 v8.on the mend

Wednesday afternoon. A chilly winter’s day. The sky is overcast, the sun a bit dim. Not much radiant heat happening.

As I recuperate I sit and watch the NEWZ… The BlueZ… the opinions of the pundits who wave their biased flags fervently. I am normally in tune with what I call the BullShit of omission…

Lets try this… I look for articles and images of Trump and Epstein and find heaps of stuff… Screen Shot 2019-08-14 at 1.19.03 pm

I’m no fan of Trump. Theres lot of stuff to find but it do appear to all be rather old.

I look for info on Clinton and Epstein and struggle to  find much…

Screen Shot 2019-08-14 at 1.30.22 pm

It would look as though WJ Clinton n Epstein “evidence on the web has been “scrubbed”…

hmmm, I say hmmm…

It did not take much to find the flight log book from Epstein’s plane(s)… https://www.documentcloud.org/documents/1507315-epstein-flight-manifests.html

Does not take much to see WJ Clinton on board… numerous times…Screen Shot 2019-08-14 at 3.46.13 pm.png

I see Clinton as both “Bill Clinton”, and “President William Clinton”. So guess he was partying with Epstein both as el’Presidnete and as Mr normal citizen.

I have not looked through all of this but I have not found “Trump” yet…

I smell bullshit…

more later

Posted by: nativeiowan | August 5, 2019

2019 v8.got a new shoulder

It’s about 330am on the 6th of August. I lie ‘in a hospital bed, watching ol-Skool music vidz. I type this one handed. My other hand is in a sling, still numb from the nerve block I was given about 12 hours ago.

I’m surprised how good I feel. Considering they took a saw to my bones, I’m feeling no real pain. I’m sure it’ll come but feeling and movement in my hand has returned. I’m impressed.

The worse discomfort comes from being in bed so long. My butt aches.

But the shoulder feels pretty good.

There is the required IV in my right arm. A tube blowing oxygen wrapped under my nose. My left arm is in a sling and as the numbness wears off my thumb is what hurts a bit. Both legs below the knees are wrapped in pneumatic leggings. A small compressor alternately compresses one leg then the other. The damn compressor is quite noisy. Have morphine on tap but don’t need it. I think I’ll try a zap an experiment… there, l just pushed the little button, lets see what the effect is…

I am not a fan of hospitals. Have not been hospitalised since I burst an ear drum at the age of 13/14. But I guess this is all is part of ageing?

I’d like to think I could get out of here tomorrow.

Time will tell.

No noticeable effect from the morphine…

More later

Posted by: nativeiowan | August 4, 2019

2019 v8.01

It’s Sunday eve here.

My normal Sunday post is about “Sunday coming down”.

Not today. I didn’t really do much of anything today. I sat in anticipation of tomorrow. Watched a bit of TV. Interacted with the kids and family. But nothing I did was of “the coming down” nature I often write about.

I’m Fixn’ at packing my bag to check into the hospital tomorrow. I’m going in to get my shoulder replaced.

My years of use and abuse have caught up with me. My active and oft times daring/foolish lifestyle has seen me beaten and battered and cut and abraded and injured, way too many times.

The left shoulder has suffered a lot. I kinda think its because my right side is my dominant/ strong side. Or maybe because of the big arsed steel davit that fell on me in about 1991 and landed square across that shoulder? Or that the seat belt in the car I totalled in 2001 ran left to right. Or…

I’ve had Doctors and Insurers ask me how I got injured. I answer “which time?”.

Wuz it when I jumped off a cliff in the 70s and attempted to stop my downward momentum by grabbing a root sticking out of the soil? I felt my shoulder go “snap”. Or when I fell under a telephone-pole sized mangrove post I was carrying with a bunch of students at Choiseul Bay? Muddy ground, big arsed pole, a bunch of kids smarter than me who tossed the pole away as we fell. I had to hang onto it and take the thumping. Or when I had a big steel davit collapse under my weight in the early 90s and land square across me? I was pinned under water for a while but managed to wriggle out from under the over 500kgs of weight. Or the totalling of my new Mustang in 2001? I viciously T’d a van and got even more viciously restrained by my seat belt. Or the near death experience on my Trusty Triumph riding from LA to SanFran in 2015? At 70+mph I hit a lump of timber and my bike flew into the air. I managed to keep it all together but the landing sent a shockwave up my arm and into my shoulder.

All these tales are kinda funny. Each left me sore and bruised. But it’s just in recent years that I’ve succumbed to the damage. I’m running bone-on-bone and it hurts all the time. ALL The TIME! Sleep isn’t assured, complete, nor painless. So I went to see the Saw-Bones.

My life has been a hoot, I don’t regret any of my bad choices or mishaps or accidents. I’ll be the first to admit its been one hell of a party and to have held together for over 60years without crippling myself more, is a miracle of sorts, but… BUT…

I’m pretty beat up, generally, my shoulder is shot. I need to go in for repairs.

This what the repair work looks like…

They reverse the ball and socket. A combination of titanium and metal. My first step into being bionic.

My first step into being an offical ol fart.

And the beat goes on…

More later

Posted by: nativeiowan | July 31, 2019

2019 v7.PoliticalMania11

I am agitated. I am paying attention to US-Politics, listening to the DNC dog-n-pony show they call a debate. It is a variety show. A reality show. It is as important as “American Chopper”. And less entertaining.

There is so much to say about it all: How its nothing but the commercialising of the political “scene”. It’s more about “ratings” than any single thing of substance. That the “candidates” are all puppets. Marionettes. Unpolished actors. All wannabe, gonnabe gods. All are hypocrites.

Call me harsh.

One thing does make me happy: I see the Electorate becoming more astute. I believe that the current confusion in the Political Venue is a symptom of the Electorate becoming more aware. The Electorate has been in a decided malaise for some 50-odd years. Perhaps the world is too distracting or too much fun, for folks to be interested in the Political Venue.

I believe that the election of DJTrump to the Highest Office In The Land is a direct effect of the Electorate’s Awakening.

I hear you scoff. Make no doubt, I am no fan of DJTrump, or any other modern day politician. I believe all are cogs in the corrupt and biased system. Any individual who seeks Office has no hope of NOT being drafted into the corruption and misuse and abuse. Abuse of the System by the Elite.

The last election cycle was very much suppose to be a continuance of Control of the System by the anointed ELITE. Clinton represented the ELITE. The entrenched ELITE practices and prestidigitation that has kept the Masses entertained for decades.

But the Electorate saw through the Kings New Clothes. The entrenched ELITE was rejected. Both DNC and RNC.

And we got DJTrump.

I am so pleased that the ELECTORATE became aware. The great and powerful OZ, is not.

Campaign Promises are nothing more than bate to the schooling fish who are the Electorate. Chum the water in the right way and you attract the right fish, the targeted vote… Promises of citizenship for all illegal aliens is a powerful elixir. Free medical. Wow! Forgive student debt; if you never took a strident loan, this would not attract you. If you’ve (like me) paid your student debt, I doubt you’ll support. BUT! There are a whole bunch of people within a wide selection of ages whom is attracted. Reparations. I wonder if they do forgive student debt, can I claim reparations for the debt I paid off? Gun reform. Abortion. Education. Climate. Foreign Affairs. So much of import.

I listen to the rhetoric: Could be… If we… I think… Definitely maybe…

A Hundred Years Ago: The average person managed much less information. They were less informed/ exposed. But they were not less intelligent. Their understanding of their world was very astute. When I read a news paper from 1919, I note a vocabulary not seen in the modern press. I feel more intelligent when I read old papers.

I believe there has been a “dumbing-down” of the population. The dumbing-down of the Electorate.

And this is coming to an end, or so me thinks.

And this makes me happy.

Smiles

Posted by: nativeiowan | July 31, 2019

2019 v7.political mania

I am struggling with these sanctimonious arseholes who live in mansions with armed body guards and an elite lifestyle, preach about the inequality between wealthy and poor. They make me want to vomit! They all have sob-stories and act like they give a shit.

DO NOT BE FOOLED…

Just checking the net worth of the numerous 2020 candidates that have announced to-date. A quick check and I get this:

https://www.opensecrets.org/2020-presidential-race/financial-disclosures-and-net-worth

Lets see… We know Trump is worth a whole bunch. He likes to tell us such.

Biden is wealthy. He’s been in formal elected office since before Noah sailed the briney blue and has accumulated up to 25mil in personal wealth. He was first elected to office in 1973.

Corey Booker is only worth a measly mil. But he has been in the halls of elected elite only six years.

Bullock is worth 2mil. Has been in elected office for six years.

Butigeig is a pauper in comparison. Has held office for seven years.

Castro only worth half a mil. Has been in various political offices for ten years.

De Blassio we know is a mega-dude. Has been an inside player for ever. And probably the worse Mayor NYC has ever elected.

Delaney is at 200mil. Been in office for six years and a player for ever.

Gabbard only half a mil. Been in office six years.

Kampala Harris is worth up to 6 mil. Only been in office two years but has been a player for quite a while.

Hickenlooper is a known mega-dude. Has been a player forever and elected to office for over eight years.

Inslee is worth a solid mil. Been in a lot of elected positions for almost 30years.

Amy Klobochar up to 2mil. Been a player for ages and elected to office for over 20years.

Moulton claims to be. A pauper . Been elected to office for over 4 years.

O’Rourke up to 16mil. Been elected to office past 6years.

Bernie is a solid millionaire. Been in elected office and a player (of sorts) since 1991.

Warren is worth 11mil. Been elected to office past 6years.

Weld claims to be a pauper. Has been a player for ever and in elected office for over 20years.

Williamson’s is worth up to 2 mil. Not a political player. An author and activist.

Yang is worth put to 2 mil. Has been in elected office for 2years.

Posted by: nativeiowan | July 20, 2019

2019 v7.saturdaycom’ndown

I met a most extraordinary human this past week. The sorta person that is a living role model to all, and a hero in the making.

But first, I need to decompress a bit. I’m just back from a few hours of driving. Went to watch Mendoza play rugby. It was an interesting trip…

On the road by 10am for a 12noon game. The location is “the-other-side-of-Brisbane”, so we need to either drive through or under the city. Under is my preference.

Brisbane has a very usable system of tunnels. A few weeks back the GPS took us around the tunnels (tolls- switch was on) and it was a major drama. So today I successfully evaded the GPS desires, made the tunnels without drama, then hit a very big delay. A truck had overturned at a major intersection. It cost us an extra half hour to navigate the matter. Lots of impatient drivers.

So we arrive at the venue, almost on Time. There are no less than six playing fields, all busy. Grace runs to the pit-stop and I survey the fields looking for M. It’s hard to determine where he is with teams playing and teams warming up and at rest. As I look he walks up behind me.

His game had started early and he’d been tacked and cracked a rib within the first few minutes. He has ice on his ribs and is moving slow. He was going to catch the next available bus back to school. We had brought a couple bigmacs and fries and drinks for him, he’s always hungry, which indeed makes the trip worthwhile. And such it ends, without seeing him play, we headed back home.

So Saturday’s traffic was OK, for a Saturday. We got home about 2pm. It’s sunny and warm but will chill-off quickly as the sun sets. Within an hour and a half it’ll be winter again.

I decided to get my buggered shoulder repaired. I am told (and shown) that the ball and socket joint of my shoulder is running bone on bone. Of course I know this. I can feel the grinding when I move my shoulder. It has been sore and getting worse for a few years. I’ve decided to get it sorted. I’m tired of being half-disabled. I miss being strong.

Australia has a very usable socialised medical system. Doctors are good, facilities are good, medical support and research is great. Wait times are minimal. Availability of specialty services is extreme. Any new radical process – or old well know process, is readily available.

The system is even easier for me because I pay-to-use. All medical service here falls under some form of a government sponsorship. Not for me. I dont get any benefits. I am not a citizen nor am I a permanent resident. I was allowed to retire here noting well I could expect zero benefits from the CommonWealth.

I have no problems with this. The services are great, and because I pay-to-use, I dont have to hassle with insurance or government entitlements.

It is in this search to have my buggered shoulder repaired that I found Dr. Bernard Tamba-Lebbie. http://www.tambamed.com/whoweare.html

Amazing tale. A very positive, pleasant person. He’d had Peace Corps Volunteers teachers when he was young. I assumed such and mentioned my PCV past. We are good buddies now.

It all happened so fast…

After deciding to seek treatment, going to a GP for directions, within two weeks I have a specialist I feel good about, and a date to be knocked out and cut open. A complete shoulder replacement.

I’m going to ask for the ball part of the bone they’ll need to cut off. I’ll use it as a shift-nob for the Shelby…

Smiles

Posted by: nativeiowan | July 17, 2019

2019 v7.machin’zRul’z

I was maybe 10 when I became a mechanic. When I learned about Machin’z…

It was end of the summer and coming onto autumn/ winter, when my father put his single-cylinder, BriggsandStratton, lawn mower in the “back-sheds”. He was done with the mower. The summer months were gone, and the ground was cold, and hard, and no more grass would be mowed for many months.

It was called the “back sheds” because it was a large, old stable. It had a number of rooms, and a large open space suitable for over 4 autos. And an attic. An attic that was scary as hell.

There were old “ice-boxes”. The kind the “ice-man” brought big blocks of ice for. Old garden implements and tools. Cabinets with drawers filled with “stuff”. Things from my Grandfather’s “shed”. Cool stuff.

No body spent much time in the “back sheds”.

I was maybe 10 when I became a mechanic. When I learned about Machin’z…

I took a tin-tool-box, full of imperial wrenches, down from a shelf and started taking my father’s working-well lawn mower a part. Over time I took every possible piece that turned, fitted, or otherwise attached to the mower, off, and threw all in a big cardboard box.

I spent much of the autumn in the “back sheds”. No one commented or worried or fussed. After school, after chores, when I was free I was in the “back sheds” tool’n on Dad’s mower. Until it was dark. On weekends. Until it was too cold. I was very pleased with myself.

When Dad’s mower was completely disassembled, I turned my wrenches to an older, not-running  BriggsandStratton, that had been Grandad’s. It had a gearbox and a drive chain. I found both fascinating – as I completely disassembled every thing that could be disassembled… and threw the pieces in the cardboard box.

The cold of Iowa’s winter eventually dictated I spend no time in the “back sheds”.

Until spring came. The snows had melted and the green had come and the grass was growing and Dad decided it was time to go get his lawn mower and make it work and do the first mowing of the year… Dad all ways enjoyed his yard and enjoyed the  mowing. And after a long hard Iowayan winter, the ol-dawg was looking forward to the FirstMow…

Needless to say he was unimpressed when he opened the “back shed” doors and found his mower: A flat bed with no wheels and no handle. The bed was a metalik-green colour. The handle was “over-there”, and the sum-part of the mower in in the big cardboard box. With the sum-total-parts of Grandad’s mower.

Needless to say the ol-dawg was not impressed…

And Machin’Z still rul’z

Smile’z

 

 

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