Color Me Puzzled

MNWR headquarters is occupied by militants, a situation about which I know only what I read on social media, i.e., opinions and flame-throwing from left, right, and heaven knows where, and from the mainstream newspapers and tv outlets, which is pretty much the same thing in a more sophisticated format.

All that to say that with what knowledge I have gained about the West from my years of living and reading, a good bit of that time in the West I know enough about the situation to disseminate obfuscating and obscuring smoke and virtually no light.  Which is another way of saying I know about as much about it as any other random person you might encounter, or read or listen to on the airwaves.

Yes, I could give a sketchy rundown of the history and throw around names such as Malheur, Roosevelt, Bundy, Hammill, Harney, numerous politicians and even some alphabet salad: FBI, BLM, NWR, there's your proof of that.  But I reiterate: I could shed no light.

But.  But an article I read in the Oregonian stated that the occupiers were using BLM computers and had access to the information thereon.

 I doubt I am much smarter than the average bear, but one question.  Okay, compound question:  Where is the power switch to the compound and why has someone not flipped it to the "OFF" position?

If you have followed this episode in the various media and if you are a thoughtful person, you may have observed that there is a number  of words that appear in virtually every article you read that have not been used here.

Zaphenath-paneah and Asenath

We are told that the Pharaoh gave Joseph his signet ring and power over all Egypt; a new name, Zaphenath-paneah; and he gave him Asenath to wife.  (Genesis 41)

The name, we might assume, was an honorific and one which carried with it power and hence the respect of the Pharaoh's subjects.  Such a gift portends a bright future.  The other gift, a woman,  promises that that future will be filled with not only the honor and glory of power but also the humility and tenderness required to live at peace with a woman.  And children, for Asenath was fertile and provided for Joseph Ephraim and Manasseh.

It is unwise, though, for a man to reject gifts from the King.  And this is so when dealing with mortal kings, but how much more must one avoid the rejection of gifts from the Heavenly King.

To him that overcometh will I give to eat of the hidden manna, and will give him a white stone, and in the stone a new name written, which no man knoweth saving he that receiveth it.  --Revelation 2:17b (KJV)

Watchamacallit. #T

Monday's story at one point featured a thunder mug.  Pictured here is our chamber pot, complete with lid, unlike the one sold by Eli.  Yes, we have one.  An unused item, to be sure, but there it is nevertheless.

Writing about this appliance sent me on a trip via the Wayback Machine as my friend Chuck calls it.

In 1942 we were living in Canon City, Colorado.  We had all the conveniences of running water but the flush toilet was situated in its own building at the alley.  Generally speaking I believe it was the rule that one relieved himself before bedtime and he was expected to perform next in the morning on rising. This would not work for me now.

In June of that year my parents made a trip to Owosso, Michigan where the father was a delegate to the Quadrennial General Assembly of his church.  They boarded us with their close friends Eldon and Leah Bolander whom we referred to as "Brother and Sister Bolander."  Kiddies did not under any circumstances call their elders by their first names, nor did they refer to them that way.  The Bolanders had a daughter, Grace, who is three years my senior.  My sister Vee is three years my junior.

A distinct memory involves doing dishes after the meal.  I recall a chastisement I received from Sister Bolander on one occasion when it was my turn to dry.  I had set down a plate in the stack of dried dishes when the hostess stepped beside me to inspect the work.  "David," she said, "this won't do.  This dish is crying.  See, there are still tears running down its face."

And now to the chamber pot.  There was a slop jar in the guest room.  It was kept under the bed and its use was explained to us.  Yet we were strongly encouraged to avoid the necessity of availing ourselves of its use, for if it were utilized it should have to be emptied properly and scoured clean first thing in the morning.  I think I never used it.

Wordless Wednesday (a)

At the Auction #T

Visiting my Uncle Everett last week, he asked me would I like to go to the auction.  Now I need nothing, but Everett allows as how it is the best entertainment Indiana has to offer.  So we wandered on over to the auction barn.

"Keep your eye on thet fella over there."

"Which one?"

"The one in the stripey overhalls 'n a brown hat."

"Halfa nems in stripey overhalls an' alla nem have a brown hat."

"The one apickin' his teeth with a love bone."

And the auctioneer cries, "Ida twenty twenty bom thirty gi thirty thirty bom thirty... say, Honus, is yer mother'n law ugly?"

"Yeh!"

"Sold, thirty dollar raht thar ta Honus Applegate. Now this yer urn, thet's a chamber pot, hain't hit, Earl?"

"Yep, genu-wine thunder mug, but she ain't got no lid." 


"No lid, but she's antique right enuff.  Whut 'm I bid fer it?  I got five, an' le's go.  Bom ten, ten, now fiftee' dolla, fiftee' bom twenty. I got seventeen fitty, bom twenty.  Say, Honus, you be over ta the Moose Sattidy night?"

"Sure thing!" 

"Sold! twenty dollars right thar to Honus Applegate."

Honus throws down his hat smack on the ground and starts jumping up and down on it. Three, four stomps, one more for good measure.  He picks up his hat and

"Eli, you are a sacka, . .  Hey ever'one, that Eli Hackelman right there, he's a jackin' the prices."

"Honus, you are a liar."

"Eli, you're another, and a cheat ta boot!"

"Now ever'body.  I tole you at the top a the show fair and square that I am a buyer here.  If I bid it in, I bought it.  Fair enough?  Honus, am I gonna hafta have Sheriff Jett there thow you out this here sale?  Now folks what am I bid for this fine etty jeer raht cheer?  Who'll start her two hunnert?  I got fitty, bid a hunnert bom hunnert, gimme, I got seventy, bom eighty dolla eighty dolla bid em eighty, any buddy bid em eighty, now ninety. . ."

"See, raht thar.  Folks, when he say ' I got' then that's a bid, 'n when he say 'now' he's a jackin'."

"Honus, you wanna buy this fine piece a furnicher?"

"I do. . ."

"Sold, ninety dollar to Honus Applegate."

"I am inna midsta sayin' 'I do NOT.  Do Not, do not do not.'"

"Somebody get this man a do-nut afore he have a-pop-lexy.  Now where was I.  Oh, yeah.  I got eighty, I mean now it's eighty, bom ninety, gimme ninety dolla. . ."

"They run that show out here every week," Uncle Everett tells me.  "The regulars all know it, but it is fun for everyone anyway.  Honus and Eli go way back.  Fact.  They are half-brothers, raised together on a dirt floor in Hangtown.  Well, hereabouts we have to take our entertainment where we find it."

Ellis Allison

Legacy.  His legacy of love for Christ and his family; his legacy of service and caring for others.  These were topics of emphasis during the celebration of the life of Ellis S. Allison yesterday.

Tributes were offered by his employer, by his children and grandchildren, by his pastor.  It was evident that Ellis was loved, but I knew this because I, too, knew Ellis.  The man was a true Christian, one who wanted everyone he met to know Jesus too, even as he knew Him.  He was a people-person.  No tribute I could write could state better what was stated by Paul in his letter to the Philippians.  And this passage was read by the pastor:

 For to me, living is Christ and dying is gain.  If I am to live in the flesh, that means fruitful labor for me; and I do not know which I prefer.  I am hard pressed between the two: my desire is to depart and be with Christ, for that is far better;  but to remain in the flesh is more necessary for you.  --Philippians 1:21-24 (NRSV)

I have heard it said of many people upon their passing that they were "in a better place."  Never have I heard it said of anyone for whom I was more certain than I am that Ellis is with his Lord, Jesus Christ.

 

Ellis S. Ellison  1932 - 2015  RIP

New Year, Old Post

A few years ago I participated in a meme that Chuck sent my way.  I passed it on to several blogger friends.  It came back around when Bob and Jan of Little Green Truck fame mentioned it on their facebook page.  They reposted their ten loves.  It seemed appropriate at the beginning of a new year to review the things I claim to love.  I went back to the old post and copied it over here.  I had to tweak the age, but otherwise, it is still the same!

Ten Things I Love

1. I love the Lord Jesus Christ who is my savior.

2. I love my wife whom you have met as "BBBH".

3. I love my family which has become so large and so widely extended that it is a challenge as I age to remember all their names. 

4. I love being 81 years old. It's sort of a testimony to perseverance  Next up, 82! and who knows how far one can go from there!

5. I love the community in which we live. It is not "Perfect" though I have referred to it that way on the blog; but it is the best place in which I've ever lived, and that's saying something.

6. For the most part, I love blogging, both writing my own and reading others. I have tried to quit, really I have; but BBBH says I'm addicted. There are worse addictions.

7. I love political cartoons and comic strips and their creators. I don't read them all, just half-dozen of the former and dozen of the latter. I love to laugh; and laughing at the nonsense of politicians and the foibles of our fellow-man keeps us from going nuts.

8. I love Coffee.

9. I love Texas. Admittedly I have never been there between May and September. But, subtext 9a. I love the ocean and 9b. I love the desert. Texas has plenty of both.

10. I love living green things. This was my answer to the question, "Why did you ever choose to move to Indiana?"

What do you love?

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

An update for 2016.  About the time this was originally posted I got to thinking about the cavalier and blase way in which we use the word "love."  Many languages utilize different words to express different levels or different facets of love.  But for us it has become a catchall, most often actually expressing what we should more accurately call "like."  I mean, for me to say "I love my wife" is scarcely comparable to saying "I love coffee."  Though both are true in some sense I assure you the word does not mean the same thing in the two expressions.

Therefore I have made a conscious effort to use the term "like" when I mean like and to thereby impute a more reverent meaning to the word "love" when I use that.  You don't have to follow my lead on this, but think about it.