Prattlings – Page 11 – Random Thoughts

Thunder, and Lightning, and Bears: Oh My!

before the thunder On Sunday afternoon (at around 2:30) the National Weather Service issued a severe weather warning for all of northern Tennessee and southern Kentucky until 8:00 PM. It was the usual warning of severe thunderstorms, lightning, damaging hail, possible tornadoes, and the potential extinction of our species. This warning included our county, but we were on the lower edge of the warning area. Pictures started appearing on Facebook of massive lightning bolts and large hailstones. One fella had in his hand a hailstone and a baseball; the hailstone was the same size as the ball, so his was no exaggerated claim.

Here, on Piney Mountain, our dogs sat out on the porch watching the neighborhood. Unconcerned as could be. The skies were cloudy, but there was no evidence – even to them – of bad weather. At supper time they came in and we began our Sunday evening NASCAR race watching festivities. At 8:15 PM it began thundering. By 9:00 the lightning was flashing, the thunder was rolling back and forth across the sky and the rain began to fall. I’m happy to say all we got out of it was a torrential rain … and thunder and lightning. Lots of thunder and lightning. Continue reading “Thunder, and Lightning, and Bears: Oh My!”

Fly Me to the Moon (or at Least to Nebraska)

My step-mother recently passed away. While the term “step-mother” often conjures up images of an abusive pseudo-parent: this was not the case with Doris. She was always kind and loving to my siblings and me, never tried to replace our birth-mother and was a devoted wife to my father for over 30 years. I felt it was important that I get to her funeral to pay my respects to her and to support my dad. Achieving that goal proved to be somewhat daunting.

My initial reaction was, as normal, to drive the 1,000 miles separating me from her home of Sprague Nebraska. But a number of factors conspired to make that option impractical. Some of these might have been mitigated through car-pooling with a brother who lives in the same general part of the nation as I, but that too was quashed by circumstances.

Marie and I decided the best option was for me to fly to Nebraska and back and we began researching airfare and schedules. In the end we decided on United Express, a division of United Airlines, and a flight plan that took me from the Knoxville Tennessee airport to O’Hare airport in Chicago then on to the Lincoln Nebraska airport with only a 1½ hour lay-over in Chicago. This would get me to Lincoln by 9:45 AM and I didn’t need to be back on board for the return flight until 6:15 PM, giving me most of the day to visit with relatives and attend the funeral service. The cost was doable and it seemed a reasonable solution. Continue reading “Fly Me to the Moon (or at Least to Nebraska)”

Independence Day

I was chatting with a friend this morning and he mentioned that he has been trying to convince his co-workers this week that we are not celebrating the 4^th of July: we are celebrating INDEPENDENCE DAY. He makes an excellent point.

This holiday is not about BBQs and boat rides. It’s not about fireworks displays. It’s not about getting a day off work and a long weekend. It is about a time when our nation stood up on its hind legs and said, “We’ve had enough, England. We’re tired of over taxation. We’re tired of big government telling us what we can and cannot do, think and believe. We’re tired of Aristocrats looking down their noses at us and treating us as mindless rabble. We’re tired of being exploited and lied to.”

And we did something about it. A nation of farmers and shopkeepers took up arms and went toe-to-toe with the British military … and beat them. But not without significant loss of life and damage to property. In so doing, we earned the right to think for ourselves, to govern ourselves.

THAT is what the celebration held on July 4^th is all about, and we would do well to remember Independence Day so we do not once again become dependent, which leads to subjugation.

By all means: fire up the grill, invite friends and family, and touch off some fireworks. But as you celebrate, remember that the celebration is not about burgers on the grill or booming starfires in the sky – it’s about freedom.

A Right Fine Settn Porch

There are few things I find more enjoyable than the simple pleasure of sitting on a proper porch with my beloved and a glass of cold lemonade on a warm summer evening. This evening is one such.

Temperatures during the day had gotten up into the mid 80s, but as the sun slides down behind English Mountain across the valley from us the temperature eases. The sky splashed with pink, rose, mauve and vermilion slowly deepens into amethyst, violet and plum. A few bright stars burn through the gauzy haze of high, thin clouds which provide a canvass for the setting sun to paint upon.

To the south the multiple ridges of the Great Smoky Mountains slowly disappear into the dusk. A Chuck Wills Widow sits in the top of a tree across the hard-road, a hundred feet or so downhill from us, and serenades us with his gentle melody. Crickets chirp, cicadas thrum, tree frogs trill.

A flying beetle thumps determinedly against the glass of the porch light. It looks like a June bug, but it’s the wrong time for June bugs, unless he’s a confused June bug. I switch the light off to save him from endangering his well being (and annoying us) and so we can get a clearer view now that the sky is dark. Continue reading “A Right Fine Settn Porch”

MoonPies in the Smokies Festival

On May 26th, 2012 approximately 3,000 people braved the 92° temperatures to attend the First Annual MoonPie in the Smokies Festival, held in Newport Tennessee at the A&I Fairgrounds and sponsored by Pepsi, the Cocke County Partnership, Chattanooga Bakery and 92.3 WNPC radio.

In many respects it was your typical country fair: there were food, drink and memorabilia vendors, there was a car show, there was a cornhole tournament, there were inflatable bouncy things for the kids to play in, there was a giant sand pile to dig in, the fire department sent a pumper truck to spray water in an area where folks could go to cool off. The local grammar school kids put on a musical comedy called The Unknown Salesman honoring Mr. Earl Mitchell Sr. inventor of the iconic Southern snack; the MoonPie, which featured – naturally – dancing MoonPies: the MoonPiettes. But the guests of honor were The World’s Largest MoonPie, Anna Pratt; granddaughter of Mr. Mitchel, and Ron Dickson author of The Great MoonPie Handbook.

Ms. Pratt lives in Gatlinburg TN but frequently comes to Newport to put flowers on the grave of her grandfather (Mitchell) who is buried in Union Cemetery. When asked if her grandfather had received any royalties from his invention she replied, “Not a penny.” But his creation has spread joy across the South for generations; every self-respecting Southerner knows that a MoonPie and an RC Cola is the greatest snack on the planet. Continue reading “MoonPies in the Smokies Festival”

Jerked by a Zerk

Today I spent three hours doing the spring maintenance on my riding mower: oil change, grease job, cleaning out the debris, checking filters, tires, etc. All went well until I got to greasing the front wheel bearings.

I took the dust cover off of the first hub: no grease zerk. That’s odd. The manual did say not to oil or grease anything that uses a new UHMW plastic bushing. I didn’t SEE plastic bushings, but without dismantling the front wheels I wouldn’t. Still, no grease port: can’t grease it. Move on. Read more:

Fences and Hasenpfeffer

Today’s adventure deals with the garden project once again. Helpful hints received from many of you (thank you very much) included advice for dealing with produce munching vermin. I am collecting hair from our weekly haircuts for use in nylon stocking bags that will be hung on corner posts of the garden to ward off rabbits. We don’t have as many rabbits as we did a few years ago because Dolly Dawg developed a taste for hasenpfeffer on the hoof… or paw… and while it was heart rending to know she was devouring those cute little bunnies, the damage being done to our flower beds has been dramatically reduced. Perhaps fear of the “horrible, bunny eating beast of 1198” has spread for I have not seen hide nor hare of one for quite some time. But, just to be safe, I plan to hang enough hair bags to drive them out of this end of the county!

Maybe human hair bags will also help ward off raccoons, possums, and squirrels.

Oddly enough, the dogs don’t seem the least bit interested in squirrels. Personally, I think the squirrels bought them off by telling them where the road kill is before any other neighborhood dogs can get to it. They love possum though, live or flat. And they like coon as well, but rarely get any except when one get s hit by a car. They’re pretty ferocious when cornered, and not as stupid as possums. Possums will fall for anything! Continue reading “Fences and Hasenpfeffer”

Way Back Whensday: Brandy

My brother, sister-in-law and their two little girls were visiting last week. They stayed at Mom’s house, which is on our property, about 60 feet down hill from our house. One of the things my 4 year old niece liked was visiting with our dogs. I took one down to mom’s house each evening. Erin liked giving them treats and petting them. She asked that Cochise make an encore visit on her last day, so she may have liked him best this year. Last year she and Blondie toured our house together during their visit.

We talked dogs. I reminisced about one of my favorite dogs from my youth: Brandy.

Brandy was a Welsh Corgie. Among his more outstanding features was that he liked to go sailing with me. He even helped sail the boat. Or at least bring it back to dock.

Brandy would stand on the foredeck with a pre-prepared rope in his mouth. As we approached the dock I’d give him the word, he’d leap over to the dock, run around a cleat and jump back into the cockpit with me. I’d take the rope and wrap it around a cleat on the boat and arrest or forward motion so we’d swing lightly along side the pier. It was a trick that tended to leave spectators gape-jawed… once we got it down pat. There were many embarrassing moments during the training.

Other peculiar traits were that he greatly disliked anyone in any kind of uniform: mail man, meter reader, policeman, military, any uniform. I adopted him from a shelter, so I didn’t know his background.

Also, hot air balloons caused him to leap into the air and bark incessantly. We lived in Bloomington/Normal IL at the time and hot air balloon races and exhibitions were not uncommon. Airplanes, helicopters, birds: no problem. Balloon: get ready for insanity.

Otherwise he was a pretty sedate, affectionate little fellow and I liked him a lot. The feeling seemed to be mutual.

Concerto of Pain

A single, high, prolonged trumpet blast shatters my blissful bubble of sleep. Was that Gabriel? Is it time?

Alas, no. As consciousness replaces confusion I find that the blast was not sound but pain – which can be similar – and the trumpeting is emanating from my right shoulder. Now that I am more aware, my neck and upper back begin playing harmony to the lead trumpet in a horn concerto of pain.

I attempt to mute the performance by shifting position. But that only boosts the volume.

I am cold. It was hot when I fell asleep and I covered only with the sheet. Now it’s cooler and the muscles in my back and neck are tense from the chill. I pull up the quilt and wrap it around me. In a few moments the harmonies diminish, but the lead horn continues blasting its lilting tone.

I reach for my watch: 3:30 a.m. A groan offers bass counterpoint to the tenor lead horn, which continues to strip away the grogginess of slumber. Twenty minutes pass and other instruments are joining the melody of madness. Hips, lower back, an elbow chime in. A tooth throbs in low accompaniment.

Sleep is defeated, sent scurrying away by this reveille. I roll out of bed, test my balance and head for the Tylenol bottle and coffee maker.

It’s Monday morning. I pulled a stump Saturday afternoon. As is generally the case, (Read more: )

Flights of Humor

Recently a video of a flight attendant’s humorous safety lecture has been making the rounds of social media and she even appeared on a morning talk show. But she is not a pioneer in this realm.

Kulula Airlines is a low cost airline with its head office situated in Johannesburg.

Kulula airline attendants make an effort to make the in-flight “safety lecture” and announcements a bit more entertaining than most. Here are some real examples that have been heard or reported:

On Kulula flights there is no assigned seating: you just sit where you want. On one flight passengers were apparently having a hard time choosing, when a flight attendant announced, “People, people we’re not picking out furniture here, find a seat and get in it!”

—o0o—

On another flight with a very “senior” flight attendant crew, the pilot said, “Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve reached cruising altitude and will be turning down the cabin lights. This is for your comfort and to enhance the appearance of your flight attendants.” Continue reading “Flights of Humor”