A Book Meme by Ron Tuepker

One book that changed your life: Reader's Digest Back to Basics. Really fuelled the desire to be on a farm.

One book that you've read more than once: The Ralph Moody series: Little Britches, Man of the Family, The Fields of Home, The Home Ranch, Mary Emma and Company, The Dry Divide, Horse of a Different Color, Shaking the Nickel Bush. I call these the boy's version of Little House on the Prarie.

One book that you'd want on a desert island: How to enjoy raw fish???

One book that made you laugh: Any of the Bill Bryson books.

One book that made you cry: Eating raw fish???

One book that you wish had been written:

One book that you wish had never been written:

One book that you are currently reading: B for Buster by Iain Lawrence. A story of a teenage boy who flew in bombers during WW II.

One book you've been meaning to read: The list is so long...

Book Meme By Vanessa

1. ONE BOOK THAT CHANGED YOUR LIFE:So You Want To Live In Hawaii! by Toni Pollancy. Gave mom and dad the idea of moving over here.
2. ONE BOOK THAT YOU'VE READ MORE THAN ONCE:Two Princesses of Bamarre. I was obsessed with this book when I was smaller.
3. ONE BOOK YOU'D WANT ON A DESERT ISLAND: Any kind of survival guide.
4. ONE BOOK THAT MADE YOU LAUGH: The Firm by John Grisham. It isn't supposed to be funny but the main character has a very good sense of humor!
5. ONE BOOK THAT MADE YOU CRY:Don't think I've ever read one that made me cry.
6. ONE BOOK THAT YOU WISH HAD BEEN WRITTEN: I don't understand this question. How would I know about it if it was never written?
7. ONE BOOK THAT YOU WISH HAD NEVER BEEN WRITTEN: I think all books deserve to be written. Writing is just one way to express yourself and people have the right to express themselves anyway they wish. One book I wish I had never read was: Catch 22.
8. ONE BOOK YOU'RE CURRENTLY READING:The Firm-John Grisham
9. ONE BOOK YOU'VE BEEN MEANING TO READ: You Can Play Tennis in Two Hours by Oscar Wegner.

All About ME!!

Yes, this post is all about me! I am special, special, special and famous too! Now I just need money...
Yes, I was featured in the Maui News' Student Spotlight. The school gets one a year and they offered it to me, me, me! Of course I said yes. The hard part was getting it under 100 words but as you can see, I persevered. Now I am published, famous, everyone wants me to autograph their copies of the Student Spotlight! Well, not really but it is still pretty cool! So, I hope that the pic is big enough for you to read all my writeup but if it isn't I'll be sure to type it out. Enjoy!


Veronica Tuepker
Kihei Public Charter High School
Grade 12

Personal: Age 17; daughter of Ron and Nancy Tuepker of Kihei; enjoys horses, animals in general, being outdoors, reading, learning, sports, physical activities, art projects, writing.

At School: Tennis, honor roll, internship at Hawaiian Islands Humpback Whale National Marine Sanctuary, "Turning Point 2006" symposium.

Off Campus: Rotary Youth Leadership Awards 2006, Tech Careers 2006.

Beyond High School: Plans to attend a four-year college or university, hopefully the College of the Ozarks, and possibly getting a degree in journalism. After college, would like to be a freelance writer and plans to travel the world, writing of her adventures and discoveries. Hopes to supplement writing with photography, and then settle down in a rural area on a farm and raise poultry, horses and other livestock while obtaining additional degrees in fields of interest.

What do you think is the biggest problem facing youth today? "One of today's biggest problems regarding teens is society's view and expectations of us. General society seems to view teenagers with a wary eye, assuming that we are lazy, self-absorbed troublemakers. While some teenagers are like that, not all are, so it can be surprising and hurtful when people view and treat us like that. Additionally, society's expectations of teenagers have lowered so that poor quality work or behavior is acceptable, which can be insulting. While some consequently try harder, it works oppositely on others. I believe that these are two major contributing factors to many subsequent problems teens face."

Here are my additions to the "Book Meme" challenge by Joyce

1. ONE BOOK THAT CHANGED YOUR LIFE:The Sea in Soviet Strategy by Bryan Ranft and Geoffrey Till – started my military career and passion for military intelligence.

2. ONE BOOK THAT YOU'VE READ MORE THAN ONCE:Anthology of American Literature Volume II: Realism to the Present by George McMichael. There is always something new.

3. ONE BOOK YOU'D WANT ON A DESERT ISLAND:Webster’s Dictionary – so many words, so little time.

4. ONE BOOK THAT MADE YOU LAUGH:Notes from a Small Island by Bill Bryson, never, ever read it on an airplane crossing the Pond especially if you have lived in Britain and visited most of the places he talks about in his book!

5. ONE BOOK THAT MADE YOU CRY:Marley and Me by John Grogan.

6. ONE BOOK THAT YOU WISH HAD BEEN WRITTEN:ALL books should have been written except for Advanced Engineering Mathematics!

7. ONE BOOK THAT YOU WISH HAD NEVER BEEN WRITTEN:Advanced Engineering Mathematics by Erwin Kreyszig – hardest course I ever took!!

8. ONE BOOK YOU'RE CURRENTLY READING:Red Rabbit by Tom Clancy – cool stuff.

9. ONE BOOK YOU'VE BEEN MEANING TO READ:Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince by J.K. Rowling. I hear it will keep you on the edge of your seat.

We had so much fun with the last 20 question e-mail loop, that I thought it might be amusing to answer this Meme on The Paths Taken. Can't wait to see everyone's responses! (you 'two,' Mom and Steve!)

1. ONE BOOK THAT CHANGED YOUR LIFE:The Lady of Shallott by Tennyson, the work that opened the world of poetry to me.

2. ONE BOOK THAT YOU'VE READ MORE THAN ONCE:Gosh, if I liked a book as a kid I’d reread it, sometimes seasonal, sometimes instantaneously! Now I am rereading all my favorites with Marianna and seeing them through my daughter’s eyes and it’s fabulously fun!

3. ONE BOOK YOU'D WANT ON A DESERT ISLAND:Swiss Family Robinson by Johann Wyss, handbook and inspiration, all in one.

4. ONE BOOK THAT MADE YOU LAUGH:Neither Here Nor There by Bill Bryson, Never, ever read it on an airplane crossing the Pond!

5. ONE BOOK THAT MADE YOU CRY:Jack and Jill by LM Alcott

6. ONE BOOK THAT YOU WISH HAD BEEN WRITTEN: Luddites Afloat

7. ONE BOOK THAT YOU WISH HAD NEVER BEEN WRITTEN:Stove by a Whale by Heffernan – Just the title is horrifying!

8. ONE BOOK YOU'RE CURRENTLY READING:Peter Duck by Arthur Ransome

9. ONE BOOK YOU'VE BEEN MEANING TO READ:I Promessi Sposi by Alessandro Manzoni

The Drama on the Lanai by Ron Tuepker

While sitting on the lanai this morning, not sipping a capuccino or a latte or anything else, I noticed a tiny little spider that was making its way to a small bug, about the same size as the spider that had gotten snagged in the orb web. The spider quickly wrapped the bug in silk by turning and turning and turning the bug. The bug was still alive, because I could see its little legs moving. After the spider was satisfied with the cocoon wrap, it moved the wrapped bug to the center of the web. In about five minutes, the bug was noticably smaller and the spider was noticably bigger.

“"Will you walk into my parlor?" said the Spider to the Fly; "'Tis the prettiest little parlor that ever you did spy”

-Mary Howitt

Happy Birthday!

Happy Birthday, Shelly!
We hope that you have a wonderful day. Remember, a birthday is the special time that you get to celebrate the gift of 'you' to the world so have a great day!

Lots and lots of love and happy birthday,

Dad, Mom, Veronica and Vanessa

Pork Producers by Ron Tuepker

Before we bought the pigs, we carefully considered where we should put the animals. They should be far enough away from the house that we wouldn’t have to smell them or have to put up with flies, yet they should be close enough that we could stretch a garden hose to the pens so we wouldn’t have to carry water. The land was flat and very sandy in south-central Mississippi, so we wouldn’t have to worry about the pigs making hog wallows because the water percolated away almost immediately. We thought the pen should be in the trees so there would be some shade for the pigs.
We wanted chickens, also. While we planned to let the chickens roam free during the day, we also planned to build a penned area for them so they would have a place to scratch in the dirt on days that we were away and wouldn’t be let out. I loved to watch chickens range around while hunting bugs and seeds, and to listen to their contented clucking. I would build nest boxes into which they could lay their eggs. They would be so happy!
Bacon and eggs for breakfast, coming right up!
A pig should have a little room to root around, I figured, so I stepped off various sized pens to see how much room the pigs would have. We couldn’t find any information on sizing pigpens, so we were “playing it by ear”: The Internet wasn’t available in the early 1980’s. Ultimately, the size of a roll of woven wire decided how big the pens would be. A one hundred foot roll would build a twenty-five square foot pen, for an area of 625 square feet. That should be plenty for two pigs. Four trees would be inside the fence, so the pigs would have good scratching posts. For the twelve chickens, the same logic prevailed, since we could get a one hundred foot roll of chicken wire. We would place the pens side by side so we wouldn’t wind up with a weed lane between the pens. I would carefully build the pens with parallel sides, ninety-degree corners and straight posts. My pigpen would be a thing of beauty!
The following Saturday, a stop at the Farm Supply Store was in order. From my planning, we bought the woven wire, chicken wire, wooden posts for corners, steel posts for line posts, staples and gates. I was surprised at the amount of the bill. This was going to be an expensive project! Dad always said that when you raise your own food, you don’t eat cheaper, but you do eat better. That seemed like making a silk purse out of a sow’s ear. But we weren’t raising sows. Whatever.
Wild animals like raccoons and possums were a concern, so the first thing I did was to dig a trench one foot deep where the fence would run. When I got near a tree, I hit tree roots. Big tree roots. Back to the Farm Supply Store for an axe. Chop, chop, chop. Dig, dig, dig. Chop, dig, chop, dig. Took a week off to let the blisters on my hands heal. Mental note: Remember to buy some leather gloves the next time I am in the Farm Supply Store.
When the trench was completed, I needed to dig the postholes for the corner posts. A spade won’t dig a deep posthole because the handle is at an angle and will allow the spade to go only so far down the hole. I needed a way to dig a deeper hole. A posthole digger! Its handle is straight and allows the digging part to go as far down the hole as needed. Well, at least I could pick up the gloves this trip. On the second posthole, I ran into tree roots again. Deep roots. The axe couldn’t reach them because the hole was too narrow. I would need to enlarge the hole to be able to chop them out; that would result in a weak hole because sand is hard to pack solid. Instead, I decided to move the hole a little to avoid the roots. So much for my nice, square-cornered pigpen, but at last I had all the holes dug. I set a wooden post in the first hole and began tamping in the dirt around the post. I used the handle of the shovel for a tamper, until I hit my shoulder with the shovel blade. Fortunately, it didn’t require stitches, but I was out of commission for another week.
Finally, the corner posts were ready for wire. I unrolled the wire, which required a little ingenuity because the wire kept rolling itself back up. As I unrolled it, I set a log on the wire to keep it unrolled. Nancy held the wire on the post while I stapled it on. Then I took the staples out because the wire was too high on the post. I had to put the wire into the trench before stapling it on the post. This was definitely turning into a learn-as-you-go project. However, I had the next phase figured out. I built a fence stretcher out of two-by-four lumber and carriage bolts that would hold the wire flat and give me something on which to hook a chain. The other end of the chain went around the ball on the pickup’s bumper. I slowly eased the pickup forward…and promptly pulled the post out of the ground. @#$%^$#@!
Eventually, I got the post to stay in the ground after several more trips to the Farm Supply Store for cement, corner posts, more staples, and an imaginary case of beer. This damn pork had better be good, is all I can say! Oh, I had fun hanging the gates, too, but it is too painful to get into that here, but if one more person says anything about it dragging the ground they can just go right out there and hang it themselves. I have to sit down a minute. Maybe I’ll have another beer. God, I wish I drank beer. Where is my handkerchief? My eyes are tearing.
Through trial and error and perseverance, the pens were eventually completed, but the posts were all crooked and the wire sagged. The shelters were crude structures, fashioned out of pallets and cardboard, but functional (at least until the first rain.) Did I mention that it rains all the time in Mississippi? @*(%$#@#$. #$^*(^%#@$%. They fit right in with the crooked fence and catawampus posts.
The day finally arrived to go get the pigs. It had taken so long to build the pens that the pigs we got were from a subsequent litter, and they were smaller than I had planned on. I went to the Farm Supply Store to get some 12-inch high chicken wire to clip to the bottom of the woven wire, so the little bastards wouldn’t keep escaping out of the pen. Fortunately, I didn’t yet own a rifle. But the #%(^$@ Farm Supply Store carried those, too! And I wished I had one!!
I have to go lay down for a little while. Maybe my hands will stop shaking and I will stop sweating so much. This story will have to continue another time.

*&$%^&# sun-uf-a $%^#@ pigs.

Doctor by Ron Tuepker

Robert B. was a tall, muscular man. My first impression was that Wally Cleaver was sitting in my examination room and had been on an aggressive steroid program for a year: his arms were massive, he had well developed pecks, six pack abs and legs that were as big around as my torso. He was clean-shaven with a square jaw and attractive features. He sat without any apparent discomfort on the edge of the examination table. It was difficult to believe that such a man could have any complaint.

As I sat down to begin the interview, I saw immediately what the problem was: Robert's left eye could not focus, and wandered freely in the eye socket. It was quite distracting talking to him because one's eyes were naturally drawn to the out-of-control eye.

My specialty was to rebuild atrophied muscles. With most of my patients, this involved major muscles, such as biceps or calf muscles that were injured and allowed to wither away due to lack of exercise. While I had never tried my method on the eye muscles, I saw no reason to believe it would not be successful.

I am not at all happy with this composition, but I have been unable to find the time to revise it, and I doubt this will change in the near future. So here it is, in all its ugly manifestations.

Doctor Ioke Tuepker

I was born on a farm in Northern Missouri to parents who struggled all of their lives. I was the oldest of 14 children and was determined to leave the farm as soon as I was able. I worked very hard during school and graduated at the top of my class. During my senior year, I had applied to about a dozen colleges – many of them Ivy League. It was my dream to be one of the best surgeons in the world. I was accepted at the Stanford University School of Medicine, St. Louis University School of Medicine and the University of Colorado School of Medicine. I selected the University of Colorado School of Medicine thinking it would afford me the opportunity to try my luck at skiing and snow boarding. I guess I was not as smart as I thought I was. During my eight years of medical school and my internship, all I had time to do was study. There was no skiing or snow boarding. It was still wonderful being in Colorado and hope to one day return.

After my internship, and proudly being one of the leading surgeons in the world in speleology, I was accepted to practice at the Moscow State University in beautiful downtown Moscow, Russia. I was excited to have been given this opportunity, as Russia does not have very many female professionals much less surgeons. I did not realize the difficulty I would have in being accepted by my male peers but I was going to give it my best shot.

Upon arriving in Moscow, I found a small one room flat close to Red Square, which stretches along one side of the Kremlin walls. On the south side of Red Square was the Cathedral of the Intercession, also know as the Cathedral of St. Basil the Blessed. It is a wonderful creation of old Russian architecture. I enjoyed looking out over the square when I would come home from work. It was amazing how dark and cold my tiny flat was when I would look out over the grandeur of Red Square.

My first few months of working at the University were uneventful. I was settling into life in Moscow. The language was no longer a barrier. Moscow was cosmopolitan – after all, there was a McDonalds (one of the largest in the world) and a Pizza Hut. Everywhere you shopped in Moscow there were very long lines. McDonalds and Pizza Hut were no exception. I did have the advantage of not standing in long lines as my shift ended around 1:00 am.

I was about half way through my shift one day when the head surgeon brought a case study to my office. It concerned an elderly person with some very unusual symptoms. Evidently, this patient has been to many physicians at some of the top universities all over the world. No one was able to diagnose the symptoms and therefore unable to provide treatment. I was given the case. At first, I thought it was an attempt to prove to the Russian staff that indeed, a woman surgeon would never be able to solve this mystery. I was too stubborn to let that happen – by golly I would prove everyone wrong.

An appointment was scheduled for later in the week. This gave me time to do research on the symptoms. It was indeed a mystery as to what was going on and I expended many hours in the medical research library. I came up with nothing, which I found to be most confusing.

The day of the appointment finally arrived. I walked into the examining room with my head held high and my shoulders thrown back. I wanted to portray as much professionalism and confidence as possible. After all, this was going to be a tough case to solve. The patient was a quiet, slight man who was quick to smile. I was immediately taken in by his personality. He followed me to the exam room where I ordered a battery of tests. The attendant arrived for the blood draw. I was convinced the answer would be in the blood profile I was going to order. We did x-rays, EEGs, EKGs, a full physical. I used my periscope (yes, I said periscope. This is MY story), to examine his lungs and heart. After the full physical was conducted, I stated I would notify him when the results arrived. Keep in mind this is Russia so the results would not available for almost two weeks.

It was finally the end of my shift so I headed for home. It was such a cold night and the wind was blowing the falling snow into drifts. I had not dressed as warm as I should have so it was a nasty walk home. I had almost arrived at my cold, dark flat when I suddenly felt like there was someone else on the street. Remember, it was about 1:30 am and the streets were deserted except for the KGB and the big, black Russian Mafia cars driving around. I turned and looked around but could see nothing. It must have been my imagination but I did quicken my step home.

I stayed up until the early hours of the morning pouring over Mr. Tadzhikistan’s chart and medical journals. The results would be in tomorrow and I wanted to be ready to begin treatment. After I arrived at Moscow University Hospital, the orderly brought all the results of the testing I had conducted. I sat at my desk dumbfounded – everything was normal. There had to be a mistake. I ordered new tests and asked for a rush on the results knowing that probably would not happen. I explained to Mr. Tadzhikistan that the results were all negative and further testing had to be conducted. He seemed to understand. What a nice man he was.

I had earned a couple of days off so I decided to do some exploring around Moscow. I jumped on the Metro and headed for the Palace of Facets. This was the ceremonial throne room of the czars built at the end of the 15th century. It is one of the oldest stone civic buildings in Moscow. While on the tour, I had the strange sensation that I was being followed. This is not the first time I had this feeling. What was going on with me? I was really becoming paranoid. I had a great time at the Palace of Facets. When I arrived back at my flat, the door opened without the key. How strange, I was sure I had secured by flat. I cautiously went in but nothing seemed to be disturbed. Man am I paranoid!

Before long, after several days of rest, it was time to go back to work. I was anxious as I knew the results of Mr. Tadzhikistan’s tests would be in and we needed to get him on a treatment program. The results were waiting for me. I spent hours pouring over the results to no avail. There was no difference between these results and the first results. I spoke to the senior medical staff and they were of no help. I was so frustrated. I became angry at their insults stating they knew all along that a female would not be able to help this poor nice man. I left work early and headed for home. I was so confused as to not being able to figure out this poor mans symptoms and was determined that they would not see my frustration. It was so cold out and I was chilled to the bone. I took a different route home, as I had to stop for a few meager grocery supplies. I knew there would be a long wait at the grocer but I had no choice. I figured I needed the time to cool down and standing in the bitter cold would help.

I turned down a long dark alley and immediately knew it was a mistake to do so. I sensed I was not alone. I walked faster and the other person in the ally increased their speed as well. I was starting to be frightened and decided the best thing to do was to turn and face my challenger. I slowly turned around and was surprised to see Mr. Tadzhikistan. I felt relieved. I had not had a chance to tell him the results of the test and figured he had followed me to ask questions. He was such a nice man. As he approached, I got a good glimpse of his face. He looked like a different person. He was dark and angry. He drew a knife and a sinking feeling came over me. I immediately knew what was going on. My cover had been blown. Mr. Tadzhikistan was a member of the KGB and he had discovered I was an Intelligence Specialist with the CIA. This was not going to be pretty.

I let him approach me; there was nothing else I could do. There was nowhere to run. He screamed several words at me and I knew he was serious. One of us would not be leaving the alley alive. His eyes were cold and distant. I realized he had no medical symptoms all along. This was just a plot to get me out of the picture. I thought for a moment, "How long have I been followed"? There was no time to analyze anything. I quickly drew my knife, as he got close. I jammed the knife in his stomach, right above the navel and drew the knife towards his sternum. I then plunged the knife across his chest to the right and then to the left. He gasped and dropped his weapon realizing what had happened. His death would come quickly and painfully. I almost felt sorry as I thought he was such a nice, quiet man with a very lovely family. He wrapped his arms around his front trying to hold his intestines intact. It would be to no avail. He turned and took several steps towards the end of the alley and then collapsed. He was gone. It was quiet. A soft snow began to fall.

I dropped my bag of groceries and immediately went to the Sheremetyevo International Airport where I was able to book a flight to JFK Airport. I would arrive 17 hours later. I knew I had no choice, as the assassination would be discovered in several hours. It was my signature assassination method so I knew the KGB and the Russian Mafia would be looking for me. After arriving at JFK, I was able to connect on United Airlines for a trip to Maui, a small island in the Hawaiian Islands. I would arrive at Kahului Airport in another nine hours where I would be greeted by my brother and his family. I would be safe there and would await my next assignment. I sure hoped it would be somewhere warm next time.

Food!

Lately I've been doing quite a bit of baking, most of which has gone over very well even with Dad who (as I'm sure you know Jen!) doesn't like his food to be experimented with. Vanessa has enjoyed these meals too and she is one of the pickiest eaters I know so all in all I feel pretty good about my efforts in the kitchen. The cookies and cupcakes I make always go over well so I won't bore you with petty details about that. On to the good stuff!


2-Step Garlic Pork Chops

Prep/Cook Time: 25 minutes

Ingredients:


1tbsp. vegetable oil (or substitute with butter or margarine)
4 boneless pork chops, 3/4" thick (about 1 lb)
1 clove garlic, minced
1 can (10 3/4 oz) Condensed Cream of Mushroom Soup OR 98% Fat Free Cream of Mushroom Soup*
1/2 cup milk
4 cups hot cooked couscous or rice

Directions:

Heat the oil in a 10-inch skillet over medium-high heat. Add the chops and garlic and cook for 10 minutes or until the chops are well browned on both sides. Remove the chops and set aside.

Stir the soup and milk into the skillet. Heat to a boil. Return the chops to the skillet and reduce the heat to low. Cover and cook for 5 minutes or until the chops are slightly pink in the center*.

Serve with couscous or rice.

TIP: Use Cream of Mushroom with Roasted Garlic Soup instead of Cream of Mushroom Soup and omit the garlic (which I did)

*The internal temperature of the pork chops should reach 160 degrees F.

The first meal I made that they all really liked were garlic pork chops. They are very easy to make (I bet Marianna could do these!) and taste absolutely delicious. Instead of a vegetable I used white rice and the excess gravy was absolutely delicous over it.

Last night's dish went over very well too and it was enjoyed by all. It was also Italian so it was a very nice change from the regular way we do chicken breasts.

Cheesy Chicken and Rice Bake

Prep/Cook Time: 50 minutes
Serves: 4-6

Ingredients:

1 can (10 3/4 oz) Cream of Chicken Soup (Regular or 98% Fat Free)
1 1/3 cups water
3/4 cup uncooked regular white rice
1/2 tsp. onion powder
1/4 tsp. ground black pepper
4 skinless, boneless chicken breast halves
1 cup shredded Cheddar cheese

Directions:

Mix soup, water, rice, onion powder and black pepper in 2-qt. shallow baking dish. Top with chicken. Sprinkle chicken with additional pepper. COVER and bake at 375 degrees F. for 45 min. or until chicken is no longer pink and rice is done. Top with cheese.

For a Mexican Twist: Omit onion powder and pepper. Add 1 tsp. chili powder to soup mixture. Substitute Mexican cheese blend for the Cheddar.

For an Italian Twist: Omit onion powder and pepper. Add 1 tsp. Italian seasoning, crushed, to soup mixture. Substitute 1/3 cup shredded Parmesan cheese for the Cheddar cheese. (Italian version super good)

Stir in 2 cups of fresh, canned or frozen vegetables into the soup mixture before topping with the chicken to get your veggies! Optional.

These have both gone over really well and are super easy to make, perfect for somebody like me! They also dirty remarkably few dishes... :)

I found a great way to spice up our boring old Mexican night of just tacos and burritos with mixed together beans and taco meat. Just make some Spanish rice and put on the burrito. Vanessa raved about that one!

I also must urge you to try Thai watermelon if ever you get the chance. They're just like a regular watermelon with seeds except they're smaller and have a more vibrant flavor. I think it is possibly the best watermelon I have ever tasted!

I'm sure that I'll be posting again, maybe something a little more exciting next time than a bunch of recipes, but hey, they were really good!

Writing Assignment

In an effort to shake loose some of the other writers in this family, here is a writing assignment from the book "The Plot Thickens" by Noah Lukeman. Please write as much or as little as you would like about this subject, and post it under the title "The Doctor by _______" (insert your name). The winner gets to visit us in Hawaii!

The Doctor

You are one of the top doctors in the country, and your specialty is diagnosing hard to name illnesses. You have just been referred your toughest case yet. He has been to ten doctors in as many months, and no one can find what's wrong with him. He sits across from you now on his first visit, ready for you to inquire into his medical history.

That's it! Go for it! Be the Bard!

Tater Jones on the Case

Tater Jones was everything a person thinks of when he thinks of a Southern Sheriff: big, fat, reflector sunglasses, black and white patrol car with lots of lights on top. You were sure you didn’t want to be on his wrong side, because he ruled Covington County, Mississippi, with an iron baton. I’m sure he had a given first name, but I never heard him referred to by anything but “Tater” or “Sheriff”. He lived in a huge mansion of a place on 20 acres, surrounded by a ten-foot high massive red brick wall, paid for, no doubt, by the graft money he extracted from the enterprising people who sold illegal liquor in the county “laundromats”: Covington County was dry. Miss your payment this week, and Tater shut you down until you coughed up the demanded tithe. >>

However, this story isn’t about Tater Jones. It’s about Hurston Wade. >>

Hurston was married to Janice Wade, a gentle, attractive Southern Belle, who also happened to be my bookkeeper. Hurston was a 100% southern male: a snuff dippin’, pickup drivin’, hard drinkin’ twenty-five year old. A large silver-buckled belt held his pants up; he wore his baseball cap with the brim turned up; and a sunny outlook kept his spirits up. He would say “hello” to Janice while cruising past the office in his pickup by momentarily shutting off the ignition, allowing gas to accumulate in the cylinders, and turning the key back on, resulting in a loud BANG that sounded like a gunshot. >>

Practical jokes were Hurston’s specialty. At the county fair, Hurston might come up holding a couple of Orange Sodas, and ask if you would like one. He would tip it upside down into your front pocket before you could say “Sure!” I never could duplicate that trick, despite lots of practice. Hurston had it down, cold. >>

One day, he jacked up the rear end of a friend’s car and put a block under the differential. When the friend got into his car and tried to leave, the tires spun and threw gravel, but the car didn’t move. Yes, Hurston loved a good laugh. >>

One late afternoon, Hurston came bounding into the store. “Hey, y’all! The train derailed coming into town! There’s two cars of corn spilled all over. Everybody’s going down to haul some home. Let’s go!” >>

“Can you do that, legally”, I asked. Call me a chicken, but I certainly didn’t want to do anything that would get me crossways with the Sheriff. >>

“The foreman in charge of the cleanup crew said he didn’t care.” >>

“Well, let’s go!” I jumped into my pickup and followed Hurston’s pickup to the sight of the derailment. There was corn, lots of corn, as well as probably ten guys with shovels, loading their trucks. We selected an empty spot and backed in. I helped Hurston load his pickup, and he helped me load mine. Waving, Hurston headed toward Old Salem and I turned toward Hot Coffee. >>

“Nance, look what I got”, I hollered when I got home. “Should be just about right to feed out those two pigs we just got!” Working together, we unloaded the corn into 27 large black garbage sacks. The front of the carport was stacked two high with sacks of corn. There must have been half a ton of it. Pleased with our enterprise, we went in to supper and talked about the tasty pork that we would be producing. >>

The next morning, I measured out a quart of corn for each pig before heading in to work. Along with our table scraps and excess produce from the garden, the cost to feed these pigs out would be almost nothing. I was a happy farmer as I drove into work. When I got there, Janice told how Hurston made two more trips for corn after supper, even using an old trailer they had. He unloaded his corn into an old house on their property. Hurston had so much corn, she said it collapsed the floor! We had a good laugh about that, but I thought to myself “Greed tempts fate.” Then the first customer called in, and Janice and I had no more time to talk of corn.
Just before closing, Hurston walked into my office and flopped down in a chair. “Well, I got busted,” he said. >>

“Busted! What do you mean, Hurston?” I asked. >>

Hurston related the following tale. “A railroad investigator showed up at my place this afternoon and said he was looking for stolen corn from the train wreck. I asked him how he came to call at my place, and he pointed to the trail of corn leading down my driveway. The tailgate on my old trailer didn’t fit tight, and I guess I leaked a nice little trail of corn right to my door. He said he was either going to collect for the corn, or call Tater Jones.” >>

“What did you do?” I asked, half-afraid of the answer. >>

“I asked him to wait just a minute, while I went into the house for my checkbook, because I was fixin’ to buy some corn”, Hurston laughed. “He was a pretty nice guy, though, and only charged me $100, which is a bargain compared to what I would have paid at the feed store.”
“Well, that isn’t too bad, considering that he had you over the barrel,” I said. “But didn’t you tell him you had permission from the foreman?” >>

Hurston explained. “I got that bit of information from a guy at the gas station that got some of the first of the corn. Maybe he didn’t ask the right guy.” >>

I was now a nervous wreck. Would I get a visit from the investigator? How would it look for me to get caught with stolen corn? I always avoided trouble like the plague, and here I was, up to my neck in it! I wish I had never seen that stupid corn. As soon as I locked up the store, I headed for home. Calling for Nancy from the carport, I explained the situation. I decided the best thing for us to do would be to hide the corn, and maybe the whole thing would blow over. But where could I hide 27 big bags of corn? The only place I could think of was in the attic. First, I had to make the bags lighter. By suppertime, I had 54 bags of corn. Then I had to laboriously haul them up to the hot, stuffy attic. Fifty-four trips up the ladder! I was bushed. >>

As we started supper, the thought occurred to us that the ceiling wouldn’t be able to hold all that weight. Dang! Another trip up the ladder, and another half hour in 110-degree attic heat moving the bags around. My legs could barely support me coming down the ladder, but I felt that I had done as much as I could. I washed up, sat down, and picked up my fork to try supper again when the phone rang. >>

“Hello.” >>

A deep southern voice started talking. “This is Sheriff Jones. I am investigating the railroad corn spill. I believe you may have something to tell me about that.” >>

My heart stopped. What do I say? As I struggled to take a breath, I decided to make a clean breast of it, to explain that I thought it was okay, and to volunteer to pay for the corn. As I drew in a breath, the deep voice morphed into Hurston’s laugh. >>

“Ha, Ha! I had you on that one, didn’t I?” >>

“Hurston, you ass! Are you trying to give me a heart attack? I was picturing myself in a chain gang, cutting the sheriff’s grass for the next ten years! Boy, you gave me a scare!”
“You have a good night sleep, old buddy!” Hurston laughed again and hung up the phone. My fate was sealed by my own greed. I didn’t get a good night sleep that night or any night until all the corn had been fed out, and the pigs sent to the slaughterhouse. >>

Which is another story.>>

The Pot Calling the Kettle Black

Posted by Ron on Maui

The pot was a mess. It had been slaving over the fire all day long, and it was so sooty and grimy that it was feeling out of sorts. The kettle had also been used, being the receptacle for the freshly cut apples. Spices were added along with the apples, then the entire contents were dumped into the pot for cooking down into the delicious apple butter. The kettle was never used over the fire, because it was copper and would have conducted the heat too rapidly, causing the apples to burn. Now the apple butter was cooling in glass jars, and the cleanup had started. The pot was placed next to the kettle, while awaiting its turn to be washed.

The pot glared at the kettle. Because the kettle's shiny surface was so fine, it reflected the pot. The pot could see that the kettle was as black and grimy as it was, not understanding that the image it saw was really its own image. "Hey, Kettle! You're filthy! Why don't you get cleaned up? If you had any self respect, you wouldn't look so shabby."

The kettle could not understand the pot's criticism, because it knew that they had both worked hard all day. Because it could not see its reflection in the pot's surface, it assumed they were both dirty. It felt bad to be criticized by the pot.

The moral of this story is: I am not going to say anything about no one posting to this blog, because I have also been lax at posting regularly!

This is the most sofisticated guilt trip I could think of. It is sufficiently convoluted, that your will probably be scratching your head for days trying to figure out who is whom. HA, HA! Enjoy!

Pictures!!

James and I on the hammock in Alex's backyard. I had been sitting on it while Alex made the finishing touches to her make-up when James joined me and then this photo was taken. Alex was also in one of the pictures but it wasn't a flattering photo to her at all so I won't post that one! Kind soul that I am.

This is Alex, James and I just before leaving for the tropical plantation.

Alex and I are objecting to Tracy's (Alex's mom) idea that we should both kiss James on the cheek for the next photo.

Here we are sitting at our table. We all look so evil in this one! Not one of us escaped without red-eye! Going down the table row starting on the left is: Zach, Kylie, Sheilah, James, Alex, me, Kristy and Elizabeth. Not shown are Devon and Marc.

That's Kylie and Elizabeth talking to me just after we arrived. The bracelet was a last minute adjustment to our dresses that both Alex and I had to make. If fell out just before we left but worked well most of the night.

This was the first time they had seen my haircut and that is why they are making the faces they are! The girl in pink is Kylie, and the girl in black and white is Kristy.

Prom (at last!)

I know this is exceptionally late and that the novelty has worn off but here, after much pushing and coaxing, is my account of prom night 2006.
I had work in the morning but as soon as I got off I came home and gathered my stuff before heading over the Alex's house. Veronica left for Bridget's house around the same time. At Alex's we got all gooped up in make-up and stuff, but for some reason could not bring ourselves to get into the dresses we had pondered so thoughtfully over in the store. We would go into the bedroom where they were hanging and look at them and admire them and then turn around and go back to the living room to do something else. Finally five minutes before we were about to leave we got in our dresses and came out to see that James had arrived. Everyone being present and accounted for (and dressed) we headed out to the car and proceeded to argue over the front. I won, but only by stating that it was Alex's car and she always gets to sit in the front and then by reminding James that he had it when we went prom shopping and when we went to the movies. Happy with my success I jumped into the front seat after everyone was arranged in the back and prepared for the trip to the tropical plantation. It was only about a five or ten minute drive and we could see the rain shadow from Kihei. Luckily by the time we got there it was only sprinkling and we didn't get soaked. As soon as I stepped from the car I looked up and found myself staring into the face of a video camera. Slightly embarrassed and hoping I hadn't done anything too terrible while extricating myself from the small confines of the tracker, I helped everyone from the car and was kind enough to warn them of their impending stardom in the movie Ryan was intent on taking of our arrival. After everyone had successfully removed themselves from the car and the video camera had been safely pointed in another direction, we proceeded to follow the path through the gardens to the main building. Upon seeing our arrival all of our friends gathered around, got us signed in and we all exchanged compliments on dresses and hair. Pulling up another table we all sat down and started to laugh and talk and tell funny stories of getting ready and all the preparation we went through, all the while more and more of our acquaintances showed up. Eventually tired of sitting we all stood in a circle on the otherwise empty dance floor and waited for things to start. Finally after the bulk of the people arrived they opened the buffet and we all ate and had a good time until the DJ got there. When the dancing started everyone piled onto the dance floor and we all had a wonderful time. I was a little worried because I didn't know how to dance but soon lost my fear because I definitely wasn't the best or worst dancer there. I mostly danced with my friends in a circle but did dance with James a couple of times and most importantly had a ton of fun. They played some really good music: Sugar we're going down; Hips don't lie, etc... and everyone was laughing and having a blast. Alex and I both sat out a few songs and went outside or to a nearby window to sit down and cool but other than that danced the entire time. Prom ended at ten and mom and dad had agreed to take Alex, James and Bridget home so we all piled into our car. After everyone had been delivered to their homes we returned to the apartment and took some pictures and then went to bed. Only this time I was reluctant to remove the dress I was so hesitant to put on earlier that day. (There were/are so many fond memories in that dress.) I know that we all had a blast and can’t wait for another dance.
Anyway, that was prom night . Sorry it's late but all of your prodding’s finally got to me Jennifer! Now you just have to get Veronica to tell her side of the story! Hope you like the pictures; I still haven't gotten the ones from Alex so I'll just e-mail those to you when I do.

As Long As I'm Here

As long as I'm here, it doesn't matter where "here" is.

Still, it would be nice to know!

MVH

Family Picnic at Missouri Veterans Home

We left for Missouri mid-morning. It was a beautiful day. The mountain looked so majestic when we lifted off. There was still snow on the peaks in the high country and the prairie was its usual brown. After all the traveling I have done for the number of years I have traveled, I still feel apprehensive leaving home but this particular trip had me feeling happy and excited. I was so anxious to see Dad again but knew this weekend would be filled with many emotions – not all of them good. It was a very pleasant flight until we were beyond Kansas City. The turbulence began. I have never had a smooth flight into Lambert Airport in St. Louis. It must be the river or perhaps the Arch – who knows – it is always bumpy. Nevertheless, we made it in safely and proceeded to get our car. We were going to take I70 to 270 to 44. It had been a long time since I have driven in or around the St. Louis area. I was shocked at the amount of traffic there was. There were major traffic jams at l:30 in the afternoon. I had never been in such traffic – not even in my travels to the East Coast. Where were all these people going? Missouri must have received their federal money for road improvement because there was road construction on every highway (which did not help with the congestion). We continued our journey south, stopping for a late lunch at a Steak N Shake. While being a very quaint establishment, the food was not as good as either Steve or I remembered from our past. I did have to get some pictures of the unique signage.

We arrived at Dad’s a little while later. The grounds were alive with activity. Tents were being set up, a stage prepared and many tables and chairs set up. When we walked into his core, we were pleasantly surprised. All the residents were in the day room and everyone was being cleanly shaved and getting haircuts in anticipation of the big day. There was so much excitement among the residents. Dad was very clean-shaven and looked really nice. I noticed he was not wearing any shoes. I went to his room and was able to locate two right-footed shoes. Steve and I decided we would head down to the Rolla WalMart to buy him some shoes. On Dad’s door, there was a note posted that he would have visitors for the Family Day event. There was also a note stating that an “outfit” had been picked out and put aside for him to wear. I must say, the home was going all out for this picnic.

We stayed at the Best Western in Rolla. After shopping for shoes and socks for Dad, we checked into the hotel and settled in. We found a really nice lake not far from our hotel. We decided it would be great to walk around the lake and take some pictures. We came across a man fishing with his daughter. It made me think of the time when Dad had a camper and I met him at his campsite for an overnighter. We went fishing together and almost froze it was so cold. I still have that picture. Anyway, I digress, we started around the lake. The man had caught a big turtle and we were all off in the grass trying to locate this booger because he so wanted to show us. Meanwhile, his daughter was “manning” his fishing pole that was getting many hits. He finally went back to his pole only to discover he had caught not one but two fish on the one line. One was caught with chicken liver and the other with a worm. Being as how proud he was of this feat, we had to obligate him with a photo. We were equally impressed but continued around the lake.

The next day, before heading back up to St. James, we explored Rolla - located in the foothills of the Ozarks. Rolla has been ranked as one of the top 100 best small towns in the U.S. and is also home to the University of Missouri, which boasts of one of the best engineering schools in the nation. There are only 4300 students who attend the university. We visited the Stonehenge exhibit, which is a half scale replica and was built by engineering students. It was remarkably accurate to the Stonehenge located on Salisbury Plain in England constructed more than 4000 years ago and stands as one of the world’s outstanding engineering projects. It makes me proud to be an engineer!! While it was incredibly significant for small town America, I must admit I much more enjoyed visiting the real Stonehenge while living in England.

We headed up to St. James and took Dad outside. He did so well in his walker. At times, he would just sit down but after a bit, was eager to continue on his trek. I thought the crowd was significant. There were many Navy, Marine and Army personnel who came up from Ft. Leonard Wood to help with the festivities. Ft. Leonard Wood is located approximately 30 miles southwest of Rolla on I-44. These very dedicated women and men helped with the residents of the Veterans Home in getting them outside, helping with their lunches, dancing with them and just visiting with the residents. Dad ate a lot and then we walked all over the grounds. Again, he would become tired and sit for a while but was always ready to go further. Steve was worried about him being in the sun without protection, so took his very favorite straw hat (purchased years ago at Hilo Hattie in Maui) and put it on Dad. That was the end of the hat for Steve. There were several occasions, when I was taking pictures, when Steve tried to raise the hat so Dad’s eyes could be seen, but Dad would have nothing to do with that. He firmly placed his hand on the top of his newly acquired hat and no one was going to remove it or take it away from him. We spent a lot of time outside with Dad and he really enjoyed moving about. After taking him in, I was startled when Dad suddenly let go of his walker, took my hand, and walked with me. He held on only with his left hand on the walker and we walked up and down the hall. At one point, he very clearly stated “let’s go” and walked toward the door. I was shocked that he said the words so distinctly. The staff wanted to freshen up the residents as most had returned to the air-conditioning of the core, so Steve and I walked about the grounds. We took many pictures and when we returned, Dad approached me and had the most mischievous look and grin on his face. He proudly handed me a putty knife he had found. I turned it over to the staff and they were amused he had found it on a construction cart sitting in the hallway. Suddenly it was time to go. Both Steve and I hugged and kissed Dad and told him how much we loved him and turned to leave. I looked back and he was sitting in his walker, against a table with no one around just staring into space. I felt so sad I cried but was glad we had made the journey.

We headed back to St. Louis. We had a very early morning flight so had decided to spend the night in St. Louis to eliminate the drive. On our drive back, we stopped at Union Station and visited the Hard Rock Café.

Union Station is a lot different than I remembered when I once lived there. They have done a remarkable job at saving old town St. Louis. We were able to see the Gateway Arch.


The weather that day was so perfect. After putzing around down town, we headed to our hotel. It was a pretty early night as we were both tired from the traveling but most especially from all the emotions we had experienced that day.

Our trip back to Colorado was uneventful and we were both glad to arrive home.

Radians

Imagine a circle. The circumference of the cirlce is 2 times pi times the radius of the circle (2*pi*r).

Now say the radius of the circle is 1. The formula of the circumference of the "unit" circle (a circle with a radius of one) is two times pi. (Since the radius is one, we can eliminate the multiplier "radius" from the equation.

The circumference is 360 degrees. It is also 2pi: 360=2pi. The units are radians. 360 = 2 pi radians. Dividing both sides by 2 results in 180=pi radians. It follows that 90 degrees equals pi/2 radians.

Thus we have a way of describing an angle that relates very directly to the formula for circumference! And how cool is that!

Looking for a few writers

OK, people. Other than the Letts', who have their own blog which they post to regularly, I seem to be the only person contributing to this blog. IS THERE A PROBLEM? Everything I have read about creative writing says to write often. We will acknowledge that our efforts will not be Pulitzer Prize material. Some of it will be downright bad (see my last post). But if one never posts, one will not grow as a writer, will one? So let's (not Letts') get going! Jennifer and Marianna are our inspiration! We can do this! GO! GO! GO! WRITE, WRITE, WRITE! SCORE!