HAPPY NEW YEAR!!

May your troubles in 2006, last as long as your resolutions.
Stay safe.
New Years day will be the norm here at the Morrow's, which is Chili simmering all day. Lots of iced tea and football. The local family will come out to the farm and we'll visit. Nothing will be decided. But we wll discuss it. There's the possibility that we may even discuss you. Come visit, stick up for yourself,,we'll bake a cake.

FULL CIRCLE

Look! They've finally quit drooling, hitting each other on the rear, and going potty in their diapers. They no longer need help eating, drinking, and they don't need entertained anymore.
We no longer have to tuck them in or put them to bed, or tell them to be nice to strangers.
And as I get older, I hope the roles don't get reversed.

Another Christmas!

We had a treat yesterday. Our Grandson couldn't be with us on Christmas day and so we got to watch him open his gifts from us, yesterday. Here, he is sporting his new bike and helmet from Grandma and Grampuh.
This brought back a Christmas morning memory. I was at that stage where I was pretty sure there wasn't a Santa but I was afraid to ask for fear of not getting a present. I came downstairs and went right over to my stocking and found four walnuts and an apple. That was normal in the bottom of the stocking back then. There were usually little trinkets and toys on top of that. Not this year. I looked at Mom and she was getting a scolding look from Dad. She said she was sorry, she had forgotten.
Well, I was more than a little upset, I remember going out and getting in the car I was driving to high school at the time and then going for a long drive. Err,, no that was a different day. Okay, I was checking to see if you were awake. But I'll keep this in here to see how many people are really reading.
In defense of my Mom, she was 44 when I was born.
After that incident, I didn't believe in Santa for a while. Now I do.

The Local Paper

The first pic, on this page, was on the front of our local paper. It's one of my Grandaughters, trying to choke another present out of the big guy.

A Big'un

Here's an old one.
A small town preacher was in the city for a conference. He called his wife to ask her if she would find out what the youth minister wanted printed on the new sign. If she would leave a message with the desk clerk at the hotel, he'd stop and get the message after his morning session and then order the sign on his way home. "Be sure to find out the dimensions of the sign as well as what is to be printed on it", he told her.
At noon he went to the desk to see if there were messages. The wide eyed clerk told him to sit down because he wasn't going to believe this. The clerk cleared his voice and nervously said, "Your wife called, and I am to tell you For unto you a child is born, five foot tall and three foot wide".

From the Tenor Section

We had a Christmas Eve service at our church. It was a beautiful 'light' ceremony. Our choir sang at the event. In keeping with the solemnity due the occasion, just before the beginning, one of my tenors asked me,"Do you know why Chicken Coops have two doors?"
Not having an answer for him, he explained with a kind of 'duh' in his voice, "Well if they had four doors, they'd be called Chicken Sedans.
Note: The above story was carefully told in such a way, so as to divert blame, away from me.

Christmas Eve Thoughts

I went to Omaha shopping yesterday.
I've done a lot of Santa work in years past, but not any more.
Both of these, have brought me joy, concern, sadness, a desire to reach out and help, or to give a pat on the back, and in a couple of cases a desire to slap the face of a few parents. As Santa, I've had to tell Mother's that their screaming child with stark terror on their little face "doesn't want to sit on Santa's lap, maybe next year, or maybe you could talk to me from over there where the child feels safe". And I've wanted to say "why don't you put that cigarette out and spend what little money you have on food and clothes,,,,, or soap",,, "or if you don't quit yelling at those kids, Santa's going to step on your toe with his big black boot".
I've had to ask Santa's little helper to find out who those people are, and their address, to see if I could help, or round up some help.
I've had little eight year olds, who were showing signs of really needing some parenting, (soap, food, clothes, toothbrush and instruction on how to use it) ask Santa not to bring them anything but could I please bring her little brother and sister some things to wear.
Yesterday I saw couples staring at each other while shopping with pure 'HATE' for each other, in their eyes.
Parents threatening kids by yelling at them in front of fifty strangers. We've never even yelled at cattle like that, when we were trying to herd them to a new pen.
Easy folks, it's Christmas. Find someone to listen to, to help, to counsel, to love, to buy food for, to buy gifts for, to share the story of Jesus with. To be quiet with. To mourn with. There are many people, in each of our lives, with pains and sorrow. To help a little, will mean so much, and the rewards will be many.

I have the best of the best, regularly reading my thoughts here. Thanks for letting me share with you in the past. I look forward to the future.
Merry Christmas.
See you Monday.

The More Things Change, the More They Stay the Same

"Now when you get up there Sunday, talk real loud and slow"!!

My Dad road horses to grade school. Well I think usually just one. (circa 1915) He spoke a few times about the Christmas program at school, and what a huge event it was to a country school, and how he was so embarassed the night they had him start the program by holding two ears of corn by the side of his head and repeat the Bible verse, "He who has ears to hear, let him hear." The crowd roared with laughter and he was pretty sure they were all laughing at him and not with him.
For generations now, kids have been learning their 'Piece' for the program at Church or at School.
This is my seven year old Grandson, "Saying his piece", Sunday at Church. The program was a good one. As you can see it had a cowboy theme that ran throughout the program. There were rave reviews and no corn or corn cobs were involved. I don't think that Dad had a microphone back then and he was probably lacking the drop down screen and the media person running the power point.
Kids need goals like this. Something they don't really want to do but must, that everybody witnesses, and then when it's over, they did it better than they thought they could. Then everyone gathers round to congratulate them. And guess what, they'd like to do it again.
Adults are the same way. We'd just like someone to pat us on the back, smile, and say "you did a really good job".
Okay folks, practice your piece and say it loud and slow.

CLIFF'S SHORTS

Some short thoughts.
How come Santa can't find my place anymore, but he knows my Visa Card number?
I need to find out what 'Gay Apparel' is. What it looks like. Am I accidentally 'don' ing some of it.
My four year old Grandaughter, already had her soda at a fastfood restaurant today. She doesn't seem to know any strangers. She watched a forty something man fill his cup. She announced in a loud, very matter of fact tone, "Okay, that's enough". She's going to make a great mother.
I've been wondering why people seem to be picking on me so much, here in blogland. Marilyn says I get 'picked on', because I look too much like a nose.
And lastly, my Mother in-law, claims in her Christmas letter, that getting old, is the same in people as it is in old tires. They both get bald, soft, and leaky. Amen and Amen.

BIG TURKEY! (Story Below) Sorry about the quality, I scanned this from an old slide.

Christmas Past

The above picture was taken in the fall of 1958 or 59. Early in the spring of that year, one of my older brothers came home from college with 5 baby turkeys. He worked part time in a hatchery. The other 4 birds met their demise one at a time over the year from one malady or another, but this one survived.
All turkeys have one breast feather that hangs down out of place. My brother pulled that feather and this turkey took exception to that. As a matter of fact if turkeys fly thru the air and hit the windshield of a parked car, with you in it, you can be assured the bird doesn't like you. This bird hated my brother.
We had the bird, uh, prepared for the table. A big problem arose. He was 44 pounds, dressed, and wouldn't fit in the oven. Well the Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners were always huge, but not big enough to eat the ham Mom always fixed plus the big turkey. We cut him in half and had two, 22 pound birds. One at Thanksgiving and one at Christmas.
Note: this pic was taken just north of our house. The red corncribs, on the left were taken down to make room for grain bins. The red shed in the background is still there, but needs taken down. The two hog sheds were just temporarily sitting there. My Dad pulled them around the farm as needed.

A Confession

I have a confession to make. I've chosen to make a clean break, you know, come clean, and not just write a private message to Ralph to apologize.Instead, I'm am letting the whole world know of my underhanded tactics. I have just a few more strands of hair than Ralph. I think secretly, he has been very jealous of my (ahem) full 'looking head of hair'. Well Ralph, ol Buddy, I have a secret and this is it. I've been using this (see photo),Big Sexy Hair Spray. You'll have to go to a salon to get it. I'll warn you that when you first put it on, it resembles the snow you buy in a can for frosting windows and Christmas trees. But Ralph, you too can have a big, full, head of hair like mine. I should have told you sooner. Sorry. Warning: the ladies really like 'Big Hair'. So don't use it before going to work. No use worrying Char about this.

Retirement Party!!

This is a picture of my cell phone. It is being held up in front of an aerial photo of our farm. The antenna is crossing our ('it's bleeding me dry' 3/4 of a mile) lane. The little black square at the end of my lane is our farmstead. The little black dot in that black square is me, but you may not be able to see that. The black winding ribbon at the top is the Missouri River. I'll explain.
Today, I am getting a new phone. I am also getting a new cell phone company. One that has a tower right by town. I will be able to use a cell phone, well, where I am most of the time. Currently I must travel 25 miles to use my cell phone. It kind of defeats the purpose. Did I mention that I loathe my phone. I use it about 5 minutes a month. That's because it has never worked.
The cell phone pictured above has dropped so many calls over the last three years that it has changed my speech pattern. How, you ask? Well I will be talking, face to face, with someone and say something like, "so the only health care options, our county has, at least that make any sense are, hello, hello, are you there, hello, well @#$% @#%^%!!
I often hear the same thing from people I'm talking to. I'll say, "Hi Marilyn, I think I'm having a heart atta.." Marilyn interrupts with "Hello, hello, Cliff, your breaking up, hello Cliff, oh well, call me back".
Here's where you come in. Today I will be handed my new phone by my son from Lincoln and I need to do something with the old one. You will say "carefully recycle". Sorry, I just can't. I point to the black ribbon on the top of the map say, "how about the river". How do you know if you can throw a cell phone across a big river if you haven't tried it?? I don't know how wide the river is. I do know that neither of my son's can hit a golf ball across the river so it must be over 300 yd's across.
I'd like to see if an old farmer can throw 300 yards.
Another option would be to place it on the anvil in my shop and apply blunt force trauma to it. OR I could risk a ticket, get the old van up to 90 MPH and let it slip from hand, onto the road way. I am unwilling to do the last one. Next summer, it's likely some 'litter control group' would turn it into the sheriff, who would hold an investigation, and eventually bring it back to me with a smile, "SO Cliff, been missin this?
I need your help. What can I do for my phone's retirement party?

In Defense of My Good Friend Ralph..if it please the court,

This picture of Ralph, who has just listened to Cowboy Poet extraordinaire, Dr Les Morrow, (Brother Les) recite one of his poems, has a mouth full of food. This picture was taken just prior to or just after the one on Ralphs blog, and just prior to the Hiemlich maneuver. As you can see, cameras DO lie. This is the view Ralph sees in the mirror each day and is why he thinks he has hair. (plural) The aerial view from Char's camera shows a shine that resembles that of a Ford Focus and confuses birds and is the main reason Ralph always wears a hat. Ralph, you've got plenty of hair. But how about a perm? I'll go with you and we can both get it done.

Artificial Intelligence

I've heard that a blonde dying her hair brunette, is just a feeble attempt at artificial intelligence. I've never really thought that there was such a thing. That is until Word Verification came along. Have you ever noticed how they will put two V's together and you can't tell if it's VV or W. Same goes for a lot of combos. Seems like about 20% of the time I have to guess and I ALWAYS, always, guess wrong. When I do guess, I will have messed up 'zwwklmqazxq', or something like it. However, just like Ron Popiel, word verification says, "But Wait". I can see you're not the sharpest knife in the drawer, "I'll give you a second chance". What do you get the second time? Three widely spaced letters that spell...bob or chuck or joe.

Short Stories

First about these two.
1. My daughter has friends who clear a major company's parking lot of snow. She helps them do that by driving one of their dump trucks. That is if it's at night and doesn't interfere with her various jobs of playing the piano for hire and managing our kennel. She says driving a truck makes her feel like a WOMAN. (She always strikes a weightlifters pose when she says that) She had to go, in advance, to the security people and fill out info and get a badge. She said her blonde hair had an affect on the smart aleck guard at the gate. After examining the contents of her Super Duty four door, he came to the window and said. "Do you have any contraband on board". And without drying a breath."Do you even know what contraband is?" "Please open the hood of your truck, do you even know how to open the hood of your truck" He has no idea who he's dealing with. Fortunately the guard will still be able to sire children.
2. My four year old grandaughter (also pictured above)was here for lunch today along with my brother. He asked her, "What's that?" She said "A stick horse". He said "What's his name"? Her voice and her face had that, I can't believe you just said that look. She said, "Stick". There was a full body, silent, laugh from her great uncle. As she walked away he mumbled "Well, if you ask a stupid question..."
3.I was talking to my son Dan today. "How ya doin son?" "Oh we just had a Team Meeting Dad". I replied, "Are you busy". (Thats Dads way of asking if he has enough business to keep the doors open". "Yeah, REAL busy". I said "What was the meeting about?" Right here I'm thinking "Team Meeting", is probably a concept he picked up at college or one of his various continuing education conferences or schools he attends for collision repair. Yes, a management technique.
"How long did the meeting last Son"? "Oh, about thirty seconds". "What'd you say to them." "I said we're really busy, and that we have a lot of work to get out the door, and we don't have time for team meetings". "Bye Dad". "Later Dan".

I Went Christmas Shopping Yesterday!

Yes, I'm a slow learner. It brought memories of this short blog I wrote about a year ago. It still applies. This Blogland Re-Premier is brought to you by Cliff Morrow Blogs where we like to say.. just about anything as long as it has a lot of letters in it. And now...The Show (Sorry there will be no Coming Attractions, because I never know what I'm going to write until just after I'm done writing it.)
Young Ladies and Other Thoughts
I have just completed my first shopping trip of the holiday season to Omaha. I have two thoughts on the subject. The first was that years ago when my boys and I would see someone with their pants being magically suspended in the half moon position and the bottom of the jeans were dragging in the dirt or a young lady wearing something that should have been worn by someone 40 pounds lighter or heavier than they were, I would simply say "no mirror". The boys would say "what", I'd say "no mirror, that poor person has no mirror or they wouldn't wear that".
Well the lack of an adequate supply of mirrors has reached epidemic proportions.
Secondly, while strolling thru Sams Club tonight, it dawned on me. Nothing says Christmas like a well lit, white wire, Christmas tree.

Ancient Keyboarding

I had one other kid in my class. Well actually two at one time. I attended our country school that was about 2 miles from here. District nineteen. First thru the eight grades.
I didn't have pre-school or kindergarten. I know, you're thinking, well that explains a lot. Until I went to school, it was me, Mom, and the Captain. Well and Mr Green Jeans. Oh, and Mr Rabbit or Bunny or something like that. I knew nothing. There are those who will still say that.
I graduated from there and went to town. Holy Cow! Fifty Five classmates. GIRLS! Football!
My freshman year I took typing. All year. Two semesters. I started out on one of those new fangled "electric" machines. IBM Selectric. Sixty words per minute. Got an A the first semester. Since we only had enough electrics for half the class, at midterm we all switched. On the manuals, my production went down to about thirty words per minute and my grade went to a D. I think I finally eked out a C-.
I got to sit by the cutest girl in the whole school. A blond. We didn't have anything that resembled that in the country. I had a hard time concentrating. She used to like to pull my book off on the floor right when our teacher would say "Begin", on our timed typing tests. I loved it. She knew I existed.
Once while scrambling to get my book back up off the floor and continue my timed test, I untied her shoe that was right by book she had toppled. I thought it was a clever thing to do. My teacher never saw her pull the book off. The first I heard was a shouting teacher. "CLIFF, DO YOU REALLY THINK THAT WILL HELP YOUR GRADE"!
I was cool, I didn't say a word. Or type many for that matter. Man that girl was cute.
This blog is about that teacher. She kept harping on us to be proficient with all of our fingers, even the little fingers, and all of the keys. And why? We had to know, and know well, the location of z and q and jj and i and w and x all of those letters you would never use. She said it was to prepare us for the future.
My question is: How did she know that someday computers, and the Internet, and blogging and then word verification would all be invented and I would, at the age of fifty five, be able to use the z and x keys.
Well at least I don't get a big red check mark for overstiking a mistake. (man she hated that) I now have a backspace key.

A View From Our Lane

Marilyn and I were half way up our lane, and it was almost dark, when I took this picture last night. My Canon corrected for available light.
We are almost giddy here in the Tekamah area. The forcasted highs for the next seven days are all in the thirties. That my friends, is above the freezing mark. A bikini watch has been posted. We've put away the Christmas (er,,I mean Holiday) catalogs and are thumbing thru the garden catalogs. Is it too early to put in peas?

LET ME DIRECT YOUR ATTENTION TO...

MIKES blog and then follow his link to Sandys blog. They get it. These blogs help explain my unequivocal, and total disdain for a little under half of the politicians in this country.

At the risk of having you miss Char's picture below, (where she's holding Ralph on the ground at gun point) I must call your attention to John's Blog about, (I will say right here I've never put these two words together before) Underwear Rotation. Go look and come back to see Char's write up.

Go Ahead, Make My Day!

This lovely lady is Char of Char and Ralph fame. Being a former D.I. in the Air Force, she always has an aire of quiet confidence. However, I've never seen her any more confident than the day this pic was taken, out on our farm, where she had just put a Lincoln Nebraska phone book to death with a 40 cal glock. A woman with a pistol never has a bad hair day. Really Char, it's never looked better.

I'm So Old That I Remember..

trying to round the gas pump up to the next dime. Last night, after the pump clicked off, I rounded it $2.70 up to the nearest $5.
I remember when the 'gallon' wheel went faster than the dollar wheel on the pump.
When I was on my way across the state to college back in 70 & 71, I'd usually stop in Kearney, NE for gas. They always had a gas war going by I-80. Usually sold for 30 to 35 cents/gallon. Besides that, I was cool back then.

And The Winner For Song of the Year Is...

I've never met Terah and John from Kansas. I will next month. The connection is that John used to work with Marty Morrow. If you've been reading about the Morrow get togethers, You may smile when you click on TERAH'S BLOG. She is a social worker turned talented song writer. The picture below of the four bloggers, apparently has left someone feeling,,, well, left out. Sorry Terah, we shall attempt to remedy the situation. Also Terah,,, Thanks!

Making Jerky

This pic of Marilyn, Julie my daughter in-law, Cliff and Ralph and Char, was the beginning of some questions Ralph has in his humorous, and latest post. It's a must read. We were finishing up making 12# of beef jerky. Okay, we started with 12#. We finished with much less.
Also, two pics of my grandaughter are on Dan's blog.

A View From the Porch

Taken last nite at about 6:00. Like some practical joke, it's not funny. I have four locations to use my snowblower on, so every time I awoke in the night, my mind was busy, what to wear, will it start, how shall I load it in the pick-up, will Marilyn run it for me. She is a year younger than I. UPDATE: I just asked Marilyn if she'll run the snowblower. Apparently I'll be running it. Something about "life as I know it".
And God said to the farmer. "Thou raisest no livestock, and have so little to do in the winter, I shall send cold and snow to keep you uncomfortable while you and the ground are at rest AND to give you something to do". And the farmer replied, "Thanks, thanks alot". Cliff chapter 4:v.1