Views Near the Porch

(Click on pictures to enlarge) Peonies were my Mom's favorite flowers. At least I thought so. Her reaction of a little boy taking his Mother a flower, made me think they were her favorite. Now that I think back, she also liked dandelions just as much. I shall pick some of these and take them to her at the cemetary. She will be as thrilled as always.

The corn and soybean plants produce our livelihood, but now is the time for the Iris and Peonies to 'show-off'. A diversion of sorts. Something to feast upon while waiting for the main event this fall.

TREES (story below)

The day before the slaughter. (story below)

They overshadowed everything.

Monsters of the midway are being layed down. Story below

TREES

The cottonwood trees pictured above, were planted on this farm in the spring of 1916. The man who farmed this farm at the time, and a friend of his, had gone east about one eighth mile and pulled saplings out of the sandbars of the Missouri River. They came back and populated both this farmstead and one other by the town of Herman, with baby cottonwoods. The farm there was later known as the Ranch Spur Elevator. The trees of the Ranch spur, lined the road all the way to the highway.
By the year I was born, 1950, they had considerable girth and height. My earliest remembrances were of Dad doing work under them in the hottest of weather. When we needed to take the rubber tires off of the old Oliver 77 and put steel wheels on for 'throwing in' with the 'go-devil', Dad would always do it under the shade of the cottonwoods. It was where we did everything in hot weather.
They made a 20 mph wind sound like a storm. They stood thru a lot of world history. They were standing in 4 feet of water in the great Missouri Valley flood of 52. They bent over, almost in half in some storms with tornado inspired winds. They could lose a giant pile of limbs and not show where they had come from. They saw seven kids off into the world. And welcomed them home again, no matter how long they were away.
The one thing they couldn't take was lightning. They had all fallen prey to the big zapper. Lightning takes about 5 years to kill a big cottonwood. They seem untouched at first but then after about 3 years it's obvious the tree is dying a long, slow, death. They became dangerous and we had to remove them.
The decision to take them out did not come easily. My mind kept going over everything that had happened under the trees. The history. The sessions of catch with a baseball, the new boyfriends and girlfriend that were brought home to meet Mom and Dad. Both 'us kids' and then 'our kids'. The times I walked in the shade and shed tears to try and figure out what was going wrong at the time. The times Mom or Dad must have done the same. Dad moved the family here in 1948, so the trees had been the Overseers of my life for my first fifty three years.
Here's the point of all of this,, the day before the chainsaws fired up, I got to walking the farmstead and noticing that every plant on the west side of the big trees, was somehow effected. All of the trees were almost barren on their eastern side, and most of them were bending west in search of light. All of the smaller plants were doing the same.
Yesterday I examined the remaining trees. They've had 2 years of growth since the demise of the cottonwoods. They are obviously filling out their eastern extremities, they are going up straight now. All of the plants are doing much better. There are bigger, prettier plants and flowers everywhere. They are all flourishing.
It got me to thinking how people can have the same effect on children, and organizations. If the leadership, or parenting so overshadows everything, growth of the individual is dampened. The light is being stolen, or swallowed up by the giants and growth is stifled. I guess we should stand away from the light, give them a chance to grow and prosper. New leaders will develop.

Help!

Okay folks, here's the deal. This Saturday nite is the annual alumni banquet here in our small town. Traditionally the graduates come to celebtrate their 10, 35, 40, 50, and 60 years. We will usually have 3 to 4 hundred people in attendance. They have made it a habit of asking me to be the Master of Ceremonies, and that is again the case this year. (for about 20 years running)
I need your graduate, or reunion stories and jokes. They must be clean enough for a local politician and Baptist Choir director to be telling in front of the towns people.
What have you got.

We're Changing the Signal Men

Greg's comment below on 'He does Get it', got me to thinking about the time I had the dugout full of 13 and 14 year old boys. We were going over the pre-game details, including the various 'signs' for stealing, bunt, hit and run, fake bunt, and etc. Then I said (in jest) "Oh, I've changed the steal sign to this". Then I held my left arm parallel with the ground and used the first two fingers of my right hand to 'run' from my left hand to my left shoulder.
I was able to keep a straight face for another 10 seconds while the team silently stared at me. They were, shall we say, stunned. I wish someone would have taken a picture of those boys. Priceless.
And yes, I did change it back. I think it was 7 touches after the hat.

Fill In The Blank_______

One of Tekamah's more unforgettable characters, made the following announcement in one of our local restaurants, "There's no such thing as a mediocre pancake".
I would add there is no such thing as a mediocre Ribeye Steak.
How about you,
There's no such thing as a mediocre......

He Does Get It!

About 10 years ago, my youngest son, Tom, wanted to attend the premier baseball camp in the country, in Dallas Texas. It was held by Oklahoma States legendary coach Gary Ward. They held it over the Christmas vacation. The time was a new idea they were trying. It didn't work out for the Wards. The camp was coached by Gary and his two sons. All three were major college, head coaches. They only had about 5 or 6 kids at the weekend camp. Tom was going to get almost one on one hitting instruction from one of the best hitting coaches in college baseball, for an entire weekend. I had been Tom's head coach thru t-ball, little league, and pony league,7 years in all. Well Tom had always had one of those baseball swings that made younger players and their coaches, stop and stare. Many times I heard "come here son and which this guy swing, THAT'S a perfect swing". But Tom wanted to get better so we made the arrangements for the not so cheap camp, and airline tickets were purchased.
On the way down to the airport I said "Tom, you know you're going to have to pay for this trip don't you? He quickly replied with a tone that said I needn't have asked, "I know Dad"!
I thought, he doesn't get what I mean, I wasn't talking about the money. I asked "Okay, how are you going to pay for this trip"? He said "Well, when I get older, and have kids of my own, I'll be obligated to coach, it will be my turn".
He did get it.
Well, tonight Marilyn and I went down to Lincoln to watch a coed softball team sponsored by son Dan, and his wife. Tom is coaching the team, and though it isn't the type of team that needs coaching, it does need organized and he is doing a good job of it and is getting acquianted with the time and procedures required in getting a team ready to play.
Everyone plays, it's co-ed, and they do have fun. The field is full of people wearing Morrow Collision Center shirts (their sponsors) and the fun thing is we know most of the players on the team. We got to watch Dan make a catch over his shoulder while running straight away toward center. (2nd time in 2 weeks) and we saw Tom cut down the lead runner at second, three times in one inning, from the mound. After he did it, he walked off the field and caught my eye in the stands and flashed a very confident smile and then proceeded to the dugout to give the names of the next 3 batters. He loved what he was doing, and it showed.
Something tells me that his 'baseball account' is full, and he's ready now to start making installments on that trip.