Turkey

16x20 inch oil on canvas that I just finished.

Chapter Two (What a Day)

     If you are sensitive or politically correct you might want to stop reading now.  Oh, good grief, just grow up and read.
     As I walked outside, I could only gasp at the clarity of the deep blue sky, all the clouds and rain had been pushed away by the now gentle breeze coming out of the west.  the bright green leaves of spring would soon turn to an ugly burnt green of the summer sun.  Even though I had left my windows down in the storm, I was not upset. I needed to walk to limber myself up after my trip to the torture master.  It was just a short distance to the shop anyway and besides, what could possibly change this perfect moment.
     I arrived at the shop with that thought echoing in the empty recesses of my mind.  I could hear shouting coming from the inside.  As I stepped through the door, I could see William and Bobby shouting at each other.  They were close enough that shouting was not necessary, but I guess they were both hard of hearing.  I could understand William doing this if he were drinking, But Bobby was more in control of himself, usually. Not today.  Looks as if both had lost their temper and were going to be pissed off until they found it.  Bobby shoved William backwards.  I guess William was standing on his temper and he wanted it badly.  William was one of the fastest people I knew, but his speed at retaliation was blinding.  He body checked Bobby hard and as he went down, Bobby's ribs caught on the 2x4 frame of the easel.  Blood shot out of the wound and soaked his shirt.  He never made a sound, not even a grunt.  William jumped on top and they tumbled over with Bobby on top, holding William down by laying with his back on top of William.  I never knew he was that tough. He held William down that way as if he were powerless, all the while, air was escaping out of his lung as it billowed up against the sharp point of the broken rib.  He began to moan as the pain made it's way into his awareness.  That did little to dampen his anger.  William was strong as a bull and worked his way out from under Bobby.  As they climbed up into a standing fight, the fists flew and blood and skin were scattered around the shop.  I had never seen anyone hurt so bad, continue to fight.  Must have involved a woman.
     I was not about to get involved in their mess and not wanting to ruin my mood, I left.  Walking outside, I headed toward the creek.  I tried to think happy thoughts as I walked along the wooded path.  As bad as the fight was, my mind kept going back to the doctor's office.  Man, no one should be treated like that.  Looking back now, it seems as if everyone enjoyed the visit, except for me.  I guess that I piss everyone off just by being alive.  I plan on being here a while longer, so they'll need to adjust their attitude, I guess.  Lost in my thoughts, I did not notice that I had gotten to close to the rain-soaked bank of the creek.  As I put my foot down, I slid on the mud and fell into the deep water.  There was no good place to get out so I just floated down stream for a little while until I saw a good spot to get out, but it was in a part of town that I was afraid of.  It was so cold, that I climbed out anyway.  I found myself in the middle of a black lives matter rally.
     I thought at first that I was at the filming of a new Tarzan movie, but then I realized that Cheeta was president and I was in real danger.  I figured the safest thing to do was to keep my mouth shut.  If I did I would be ok, for my milk white skin was covered in dark mud.  When I was born, my umbilical cord was wrapped around my neck and according to mom I was a black baby.  So I was not lying too much.  I maneuvered  away from the crowd and over to the parking lot to see if I could find a ride.  No such luck.  Everything was locked up tight and no one was in sight.
     As I walked, my temperature rose and I started sweating. In just a little while the mud was streaming off my body and now I am a mulatto!  Off in the distance I can see the Mexican quarters......

What a Day

     I did not have a good feeling about this place as I fished my Medicare and Medicare supplement cards out of my wallet.  As much as I hated to, I had to ask the surly receptionist which cards I had just given her.  My age has overtaken my eyes.  With glasses I can see here or there, but never here when I need to or there when I want to.  With her grunt, I assumed that I had given her the right ones.  She handed them back with a clip board just barely able to hold the paperwork I needed to fill out.  The parking lot was full, but when I went to find a seat, I found that I was the only one in the receptionist area.  Even then, there was not a good seat.  The carpet was covered with dirt, the seats were torn and tattered, cobwebs were everywhere.  And some of the seats were covered with rat droppings.  Since I am afraid of spiders and don't like rat dookey, I just decided to sit on the floor.  Good thing I am not afraid of earthworms and slugs.
     As I returned the paperwork, I asked Stoneface how long for me to be called back. 
     "Ten minutes!" she slurred.
      "Good", I thought, that will give me enough time to check on the car.  As I stepped out, I saw that the parking lot was underwater and mud had washed down from the hill overlooking the office.
     "That's just great!", I muttered under my breath.  I jumped across the puddles of mud and water and made my way to the car.  I let up the windows, knowing that I would have a mess to clean up later.  I had just enough time to get back to the office, but something kept worrying me about this appointment.  Why was I here?  Did I hurt myself, was I sick or was I just trying out my Medicare cards.  I think I have a tooth trying to abscess, but I ain't sure.  When I get back to the office, no one is there, not even the disgruntled old receptionist, so I go sit on the dirt floor and wait.
     I was almost asleep, when a few dozen black kids came into the room and gathered into a formation.  right on cue, just as they get into position, music comes out from nowhere and they begin to dance.  Slowly at first, gaining in momentum and intensity.  Not too bad for kids.  They break off into smaller groups and begin to wander off.  The office is soon deserted again and I eased over to the side of the room.  There was a collection of old Coca Cola barrels resting on a pallet.  The logo was embossed onto the side of the rusted metal barrels.  As I am admiring them, an old guy walks over and joins me in admiring them. 
     "Reckon how much they're worth?"
     "Five hundred dollars each, I guess" he answered.
     "Mr. Sims" called Stoneface, "Come on back!"
     As I stepped through the door, it looked as if I were entering into a petting zoo.  Now I knew where all the people from the cars were.  There was sawdust on the floor, goats, sheep, chickens and hogs were wandering around unattended.  You really needed to pay attention where you stepped.  The smell was kinda strong also.  The lady escorting me stepped over to the fruit bar, grabbed a pair of scissors and cut a section of melon.  I could not help but hope that she didn't cut some low hanging nuts off my tree.  Walking down the wide hall, I had to sidestep an old man on a torture machine that worked his shoulders, arms and legs.  He was tied to it so he couldn't get off until his time was up.  Some stupid grin was on his face, didn't know if he was happy or was going to need a cleanup at the end.
     "Here you are", said Stoneface, "Lay down on the floor and put your neck here."
     "How am I supposed to do that?"  The neck rest was a foot and a half above the floor.
     "Just try."
      As I lay down and was trying to get my head on the "rest", I felt a sharp pain on my tailbone.  "What the hell?"  I jumped in pain and they slid a two by four under my back and angled me up so that my neck fit perfectly.  "What kind of a flim-flam operation is this?"  You can keep your Medicare if I have to go through shit like this to use it.  I still don't know what is wrong, even after staying on that torture rack for over an hour.  I did leave there with a crick in my neck, a sore back and barely able to walk.  As I struggled through the reception area, Stoneface said, "See you next week."
     "No hell you won't!" I muttered to myself.
  .............to be continued. 

Bear

Ten inch by twenty one inch carved bear, standing on arrowhead on one forth of cedar log.

Indian Nut Cracker

A while back a herd of deer moved into the woods on the back of my property in Ashford.  They ate the undergrowth enough that I could walk in areas that I had previously left alone.  I am sure they are related to goats, but are more ambitious in the clean out aspect.  As I was walking through the other day I came upon these two rocks.  I thought it was unusual to see them together, since there were no more anywhere around.  Usually I walk by rocks like this, but the appearance of these two was so weird that I stopped for a second look.
     The one had smooth edges with an indention about 3/4 of an inch deep.  It was a grinding stone, but looked as if it had some damage on the inside of the indention.  The rough one had some crazy marks on it.  A curved line about 3 inches long with a hole at each end.  I showed them to my friend,  Craig Seay, who is an Indian artifact guru.  He said the damage to the indention was caused by someone using the stone to crack nuts.  I don't know if you can see in the photo, but there are two indentions inside the large indention that are used to hold nuts and keep them in place while they are being smacked by another rock.  The other rock was used to sharpen arrow points and the holes were used to sharpen the tips of the arrows, by spinning them in the holes.  I guess that I found an old Indian's tool shed.

Cardinal

On this 11x17 inch oil on canvas, I used a palate knife and spackling paste to mold the bird, leaves and branch.  I think I will use this more often.

MY JOURNEY ON THE TRAIN

    

This morning, it happened just like it has for the last few months. It is 3:33 in the morning and I have been awake for a few minutes now.  My heart is not racing, but it is pumping pretty fast.  It never fails for me to wake at that moment every night, if I take a sleep aid or not.  If I go to bed early or late, no matter.
     Off in the distance I can hear the old number 284 train coming up the tracks.  I can hear the horn first as it enters Ashford, a couple of miles away. Long, low and lonesome the air horn shatters the silence of the still night. It shakes the moisture of the fog on the leaves so that it drops to the ground like a soft rain.  Slowly, it comes upon the next three crossings and the horn gets louder and louder, almost like the trumpet of God.  Then I can hear the rumbling of the train, metal upon metal, bearings squealing and clanging and the breaking of the wind.  Almost like a band of angry banshees, the noise of the train is deafening.  As it passes into the distance, the sound of the banshees diminish and there is just a low rumbling left fading of into the distance.  Then all I can hear is the horn at each crossing and then even that is gone.  I lay there awake for a few moments enjoying the silence and knowing that in an hour it will start up again.
     tonight I realize for the first time that old 284 is running parallel to  my life.  As I was born, so was my passage on the train, I don't remember either one, but I have always been alive and always on that train.  I can look back at the beginning and not see it,  however I can look to the end and see it.  I will die, if not raptured by my savior first, but that old train will continue on, even to the throne of God, however long that takes.  I am not the only passenger of course.  The track has only one direction, from here to there.  In the beginning, I was just an innocent child, traveling with some very fine parents, who taught me of Jesus and His saving grace.  As an adolescent, I rebelled against what was right, but I couldn't get off the train.  Thank God for that.  None of us are able to get too far off the rails, for o one is left behind, you either get to the promised land or you go to hell.  The choice is yours, but you can't get off the train until your ticket is punched, and no one knows when that will be.
     That train will carry you through all the slices of life.  Some will be good, some will be downright awful.  I have been in some good ones in the past, but now I am in one of the worst.  I can't wait for this one to pass and to enter into a good one again.  Just like this old train we are always moving forward.  the past  is receding further away and the future is always in sight and I am excited for what comes next.  I have been told by God Himself that I will spend eternity with my grandkids and as I said, I can hardly wait.  Coming up I can see some dark times coming.  The light of this world will be taken away when the church will be taken out along with the Holy Spirit.  The resulting darkness will be so thick and oppressive that one will have a hard time breathing.  The resulting chaos will be so bad that God said he will have to shorten the days or else no one will be left alive.  I can't tell you the day, but I can tell you the time.  When you see Israel sign a peace treaty that allows her to rebuild the temple there are seven years left.  The peace treaty is just a ruse to take advantage of Israel.  In forty two months after the temple is finished, the Anti-Christ sets himself up in the temple as god, believing that he is god.  He will have the help of the false prophet.  If you do not take his mark and worship him, the false prophet will have you killed.  If you do take the mark, you will be damned forever.  From that time until the return of Christ is another forty two months.
     When Christ returns with His holy saints He will be clothed in white, with His name written on his thighs.  King of Kings and Lord of Lords.  He will defeat the false prophet and the Anti-Christ with a sharp two-edged sword proceeding out of His mouth.  The false prophet along with the anti-Christ will be thrown into  the lake of fire.  Satan will bound with chains and thrown into the bottomless pit for a thousand years.  MY God, My God, My God, arms outstretched to heaven, what a glorious God.