Walk on by

Just playing around with an ink pen, relaxing after a hard day.

Joshua's Revenge

   In my previous post, I made fun of God telling Joshua that he was old.  Evidently Joshua heard about it and was not that amused.  Last week I climbed onto my backhoe, heard a rifle shot and my leg buckled under me.  Well Jason finally got the nerve to shoot me.  However it was a torn tendon in the back of my knee.  What a relief. 
     The vision in my left eye was messing up and the doctor told me that I had a wrinkle on the inside of my eyeball. How Joshua must have laughed, and I don't blame him.  You know you are getting old when you get wrinkles on the inside of your eyeball.  I also had high pressure in the left eye due to a stopped up drain hole.  Monday I went back to see what to do about that.  Before I left for my appointment, after a visit to the toilet I threw my back out after trying to pull up my pants.  Nothing like back pain to make you forget about a torn tendon in your knee.  Pain makes you feel alive, so until I pass on I guess that I will be full of life.
     After the exam, the doc told me, "We are going to take you back and do surgery on your right eye."   "Doc it was my left eye," and pointed to my left eye.  "Your right eye is 98% blocked and if it stops up completely, you will be blind in a matter of hours.  You will come back Friday to do the left eye."  So Joshua, I still think it is hilarious what God told you, but I have a little more respect for you now.
    

Hold Your Arms Out

     For eight years, Sheila and I have been in a terrible place.  A cold, dark and lonely place that I would not wish on anyone, even the one that put us here.  I hesitate to call it hell, because while we were here we have grown closer to God.  In this place there is no comfort from family or friends for we have neither.  The only ones that understand or care are me, Sheila and God.  Sheila is in the same predicament as I and has no more an idea for a solution than I do.  We just wallow in self pity and blame the same person.  However we have both had conversations with God that have helped us through.
     I have made contact with the culprit several times and his kindest remark was, "Quit feeling sorry for yourself, get over it and move on with your life.  This has been the happiest two and a half years of my life."  Several years ago my response would have been a swift and immediate physical reaction that he would not have liked.  However he had a power over me that I could not fight.  Regardless of what happened, he would be the hero and I, the villain.  He knew it and so did I.
     Sheila has had a hard time dealing with this also.  This was not the only thing happening to us.  The sheriff's department had strip searched my sixteen year old daughter at a private residence.  Sheila is like a mother bear when her cubs are threatened.  It took years but, we finally prevailed in court.  Note to everyone, don't get caught up in law enforcement's web.  While this was going on the state of Alabama was trying to force us into installing a turn lane onto Hwy 84.  The cost of this would have been close to a hundred thousand dollars.  While this was going on a full scale war was going on against us, but we couldn't see it for the other wars we were waging.
     The attack came on subtly at first and we did not perceive any problem.  As time went by the attack became more apparent, especially to Sheila, who was bearing the full onslaught.  It was coming from a source that no one would believe, not even me.  When Sheila told me what was happening, I was in denial.  I was sure something else was going on, but I was wrong.  It continued to get worse and I was forced to see it.  And see it I did.  I had heard of this happening only once in my life.  The couple that this happened to was a Godly couple, that taught Sunday School in our church.  It did end for them, after thirty seven years, before they died.  But the time that was lost to them was just that, lost.
     Unless you go through it or walk in my shoes as the saying goes you have no idea of the damage that is done to you, physically, mentally or spiritually.  Years of laying awake at night wondering what went wrong, what I could have done to prevent it and why the hell did I not just whip his ass to start with.
     Sheila is a strong woman, but this is almost more than she can handle.  She had her Dakota to help her cope, but she was called home early.  I almost lost Sheila at that point, however God stepped in and showed Sheila that Dakota was with Him and they would be reunited.  She and I have had visions of heavenly things, that have helped us to cope.  She told me the story of God telling Joshua "Joshua, you are getting old."  At once that was hilarious to me.  I have laughed out loud several times as I think of this.  When God tells you that you are old, then you are old.  I hope that Joshua has a sense of humor.
     She told me of standing on a steep cliff watching angels rescuing people from the edges.  Frightened she did not know what to do.  An angel approaching, yelled to her, "Hold your arms out."  She held her arms out in front and he yelled at her more frantically, "Hold them out wide!"  She did and he grabbed her up in his hands to keep her in her way, lest she dashed her foot against a stone.
     I, Sheila and the other two have paid a high price for your eight years of happiness.  It was not worth it and I am sorry you can't see that.

Cock of the Walk

     In the spring of 1956, our family moved from my grandparents farm to the outskirts of Headland.  We rented a house from Mr. Joe Parrish.  This particular Saturday, mom was cleaning and dad was off with uncle Tex fishing.  They left it up to Wayne, who was ten, to look after me and Benny.  I guess for a while he did pretty well, but since he was all macho man, we had to head off to the Cock of the Walk fertilizer building.  It was the largest building I had ever seen.  One hundred feet high and wide and three hundred feet long.  It was made out of asbestos sheets for the roof and sides.  It had a walkway at the top that ran the length of the building, with a row of windows on each side.  Most of the panes were broken.  Not by us, we could throw rocks pretty well, but they were too far off for our young arms.  The train tracks were on the other side, and the loading dock ran the length of the building, with piles of pallets and cardboard.
    The big doors were locked, but as small children, we could slip between them and the building and go inside.  There it was, on the inside, was our personal playground.  The white powder bat guano was piled to the ceiling.  Three different piles, each just a shade different.  Wayne had been there before and knew to bring a piece of cardboard from the loading dock. Motioning for us to follow, he headed up the stairs to the cat walk.  That was the best thing we had ever done.  Our hearts were pounding from the excitement of breaking in and the height of the stairs.  We could barely contain ourselves.  The bat doo-doo was about five feet below the catwalk, and sloped to the bottom in a cone shape.  Wayne jumped with the cardboard, hit with a smack and started sliding downhill fast as lightening.  Benny and I jumped onto our cardboard sled and followed after him. The dust from the commotion we caused was billowing up all around and made it hard to breath. Wayne was going so fast that we couldn't catch up, and he couldn't stop.  Just as he reached the bottom, he rolled off head first, only feet away from smashing into the wall.  When we reached him, all we could see were his legs sticking out of the bat crap, and kicking like crazy, up and down.  We grabbed a leg each and pulled him out.  We were laughing at him and embarrassed as he was he bounced each of us on the side of our heads.  Smaller and younger, though we were, we bounced back.
     When we tired of blood and bat crap, Wayne showed us some dynamite that they used to break up the guano when it clumped together.  Now at this moment, fifty eight years later, I know what happened to the windows.  It also explains why we could slip inside the doors.  Wonder if the building is still standing.  Wayne was smart enough to take only the blasting caps and fuses.  I think he knew that the dynamite was too dangerous.  On the loading dock was a three foot length of 2" pipe, a cinder block and an unlimited supply of rocks from the train tracks.  And every kid worth his salt, had a cigarette  lighter.  Well, with all these ingredients for a fun filled Saturday afternoon, what could possibly go wrong?
     Instead of aiming the primitive mortar across the tracks to the empty field, Wayne pointed it at the red house, a quarter mile away.   Wayne lit the fuse to the blasting cap, dropped it into the pipe, Benny dropped in a big rock and I got the hell out of the way.  No need to worry, the rock came out the end of the pipe pretty as you please.  You could see it flow through the sky and land on the tin roof of the red house with a loud bang.  The folks in the house

 scattered out of there like red wasps coming off the nest when you hit it with a corncob.  They heard thunder and the sky fell on them.  They were hauling ass somewhere, but where?  They never figured out what happened.  Are you going to tell them?  I sure as heck ain't.

Growing up Auburn

I just ran across this photo of a painting I did a few years ago.  I was commissioned by a family to paint their son with his toys on the family farm.  Obviously they also like John Deere.

Red Velvet Cake

Look, look, can you see

what Sheila has done for me?

Outside is a beautiful sight,

but inside is a tasty delight.

She did for me bake

a red velvet cake.

Collards, pork roast, corn

and potato salad makes me mourn

for more of that cornbread.

And with that I said,

get the hydraulic boom

so out of the dining room

I can get my fat butt

into the dining room, but

first one more piece of cake

that Sheila did bake.

For all the kitchen messing,

for all the blessing

You have bestowed on us

thank you, Lord Jesus.

Mule Shoe

This is a 3 and one half ft by 7 ft cypress slab of wood, 3 and one half inches thick.  I carved the letters into it on both sides.  This is for a four thousand acre hunting plantation on the Alabama side of the Chattahoochee river.