U.F.O. Sighted Over Benbow!!!

Okay, most people probably will have an explanation. But U.F.O. means Unidentified Flying Object, and I didn't identify it. So it’s a ufo.

Coming home from work tonight I turned off onto Blue Rock Road and I saw a very bright light in the eastern sky, moving parallel to the horizon, from south to north, at about 25degrees of elevation. I checked the time a few minutes later, and I saw it at about 5:36 PM today.

As I turned the corner I noticed a very bright white light. At first I thought it was a headlight on the hill in front of me, but as I got into the clear, I thought it might be a helicopter with a very bright light. It didn’t seem like it was moving fast enough to be a meteor. As I watched it, it started to dim and turn greenish. It started to trail orange flame balls, that winked out behind it. At that point it blinked out completely except for a slight phosfluorescent trail.

Okay, I did decide that it was something that burned up upon entering our atmosphere. So what might follow that trajectory, move that slow, and glow greenish with an orange trail???

Northwestern Indian food was tricky to eat.

Buckeye

Manzanita

Mussles

Roots?

Berrys?

Mushrooms?

More on Squaw Rock

Kym, The Reheaded Blackbelt provided more history on the naming of Squaw Rock and found this tale in historical records. Even though the following story is convincing, Kym gave me an easy way out by saying it's possibly made up. As with all legends and myths, there is always a speck of truth and history, or a great moral to the story.

Thank-you Kym

The following legend of the " Lover's Leap" was read by Miss Fannie Lamar at Mrs. Poston's Seminary August, 1878:‑

"In the deep Cañada through which Russian river comes cascading down with rollicking music from the mountains into the broad valley below, a great majestic rock towers several hundred feet perpendicularly from the bank of the river and slopes off to the westward upon a gentle incline. Passengers and tourists who travel the road which runs near its base, gaze with awe and admiration upon this great monument of Nature's marvelous work, and listen attentively to a romantic legend familiar to those who dwell in its vicinity. The story, as related by a native Californian lady, Miss Chatta Feliz, who was reared near this great rock, and who was a cotemporary with the principal actors in the tragedy, runs nearly as follows: Before the conquest of this country by the United States, and when the old Catholic Missions retained much of their primitive glory and beneficent power, many of the Indians were gathered into their folds for religious instruction. With the holy inspiration of the Church, which these simple children of Nature imbibed, they developed a passionate fondness for the fashions and ornaments of civilization. About ten miles south of the great rock, near where now stands the beautiful village of Cloverdale, dwelt a tribe of Indians, among whom was a young chief, a sort of Prince Imperial, whose name was Cachow. He was a fine looking fellow of faultless physique, a mighty hunter, skilled in the use of the bow and arrow, renowned for his prowess and rich in the trophies of the chase, as well as in the plunder of the battle field. To all this hoard of wealth and personal accomplishments he had added the glamour acquired by a short sojourn at the mission of San Rafael, and many beads and other trinkets, the gifts of the kind padres of that once famous mission. Of course Cachow was, as well as a distinguished prince, and a hero among the braves, a great favorite with the dusky ladies of his own and the neighboring tribes. About six miles north of the great rock, on a beautiful plateau called Sanel, on the bank of the river, were the wigwams of the Sanelanos. The chief of these Indians had a handsome young daughter, named Sotuka, whose small feet and hands, wealth of dark hair, grace and comeliness, and, more than all her extraordinary skill in cooking venison and grasshoppers and making buckeye mush, made her as famous within the radius of her acquaintance as was the Queen of Sheba in her country.
"About the time of which I write, in the early autumn, when the golden harvest of the wild oats had been gathered into the great willow baskets, and the wild fruits were abundant, and the deer and the rabbits were still fat, and fish were plentiful in the streams and easily caught, Sotuka's father made a feast and sent his heralds forth with hospitable greetings and invitations to his neighbors. Among the invited guests was the distinguished Cachow, who, with all his fame and manly beauty and gorgeous trappings, was the cynosure of all eyes, and at once became the idol of the royal Sotuka.
"The juiciest acorns were roasted and pounded with Sotuka's own hands for Cachow, and the choicest delicacies of her basket were selected and prepared for him. In short, while Cachow had completely enthralled the heart of Sotuka, he was not insensible to her great beauty and personal accomplishments; and this, their first meeting, resulted in a betrothal. After an exchange of souvenirs, like lovers of other races, and the festivities being over, Cachow returned to his home with a promise to come back in two moons with a deer skin full of beads for Sotuka's father and make the lovely daughter his bride. But Cachow, like many men who have gone before him and many who have succeeded him, was unfaithful to his promise, and before two moons had waned he wedded another. It happened in the course of events that Cachow and his new love, in making their bridal tour, built their camp fire at the eastern base of the great rock, underneath the precipice. Sotuka had already become apprised of the perfidy of her lover, and while busily meditating and planning revenge, was informed by one of her scouts of the camping place of the bridal party. When night came Sotuka left her wigwam and, alone, hastened through the darkness to the great rock and, ascending the western slope, approached the precipice and looked down, where, by the light of the little camp fire, she saw her faithless lover and his bride fast asleep.
"With the merciless vengeance of love to hatred turned, and the desperation of unrequited affection, she clasped in her arms a stone as large as she could lift and sprang off the fearful height upon her sleeping victims On the morrow, the Sanelanos and the tribe of Cachow held a grand imposing inquest over the dead trio, and, having built a great log heap, they placed upon it the three mangled bodies and lighted the funeral pyre Then, to the music of a solemn dirge, the wailings of the mourners and the roaring of the flames, the spirits of the departed, as the Indians say, rode upon a chariot of smoke to the happy hunting ground. Since this tragic scene the great rock has been known as 'The Lover's Leap.'"

Transcribed by Kathy Sedler.

Betcha' didn't know!

The photo is by my wife Janis, my favorite photographer in the whole world. Her pictures ain't bad either.

The photo is a huge file, so you can click on it and make it enormous, she took the picture for me to put on my blog, so if there is anyboby out there that wants to flat thief it, go ahead. This image is for proof and posterity.

This rock is a well known rock and many of you have been within a stones throw of it many times. Many, many times. Do you know what it is called and where it is? After the name of the Rock is guessed I will give you more info on it.

Meanwhile, don't stop commenting on the commercials you like/don't like in the post below.

Update:
Ben and Kym both guessed right:
Well, you are both right. When I was just a wee child my dad had a job hauling lumber to San Francisco. Sometimes my mother and my sister and I would get to ride along. The two things that I remember about those trips are the Golden Gate Bridge and Squaw Rock.

Driving down there, my dad pulled of the side of the, then very narrow highway 101, and ask me if I could see the Squaw leaning against the Rock. I saw this same vision that is in the photograph. I knew an Indian woman in Laytonville, and she had the very same face. After that I always looked for the face on the rock along the road. For a long time the trees along the road blocked the face from view. The other day when I drove down there, I noticed that some of the trees were missing and you can see the face again. Following that trip I asked my wife to take a photo for me because she knows how to make the silhouette stand out. I think that she took a perfect picture don’t you?

One of the things that I think is imperative to say; many times recently I have heard that the term “Squaw” is derogatory. As always when questions like that come up, I have “Indigenous People” (The term comes from an Indian friend) friends to ask. Some are offended, and others say it is ridiculous. Some are proud to be called a squaw, some are emphatically not.
I find it sad that it seems to be true, that any label will eventually become derogatory. I will be glad to start using new terminology when they come up with a proud name for an Indian woman. Fitting to the respect she deserves, and fitting to be a proud indication that she is a Female Indigenous Woman. I have the vision but not the word.

I was never raised to think of the word “Squaw” as being anything but respectful, and I am now shocked to find some think that it is not. Do we have to screw up everything?

favorite commercial

Ekovox recently fessed up that he was the one that made the commercial where the guy rode his horse through the store. He also flatly stated that he was not responsible for some of the most annoying commercials. Which is good! Thanks Eko.

Some commercials are so bad that I make a mental note not to use their product, no matter how bad I need it. A man has to have principles! Fortunately I’ve never seen a bad beer commercial.

Most bloggers go on and on about their favorite books or movies, and that’s been done. So I thought, being the son of a long line of pioneers, that I would open up a whole new genre. (Genre means “field of subject” basically. I promised myself a long time ago not to use big or cute words, and that I that would always speak plain English. Well “Genre” is in the English dictionary, but it isn’t plain enough for me. So, you can only imagine how I feel about commercials that I suspect were made to punish me.)

So, what is your favorite/least favorite Commercial?

Oh…. I will randomly pick a commenter to give the recipe for the corn dogs up there in the corner. There are only four ingredients, unfortunately one of the steps in making them involves catching a cow.

Suvival After the "Collapse!

Ekcovox and The Redhead Blackbelt have me worried with their conflicting ideas of how to handle the coming economic storm.

Being an old country boy, I get my information from watching the signs. When the acorn crop is big it will be a wet winter. If a warm wind comes out of the south, it always brings rain. The north wind always follows a storm. So, I keep my finger to the wind, and stay in touch with what’s going on. I seldom get caught by surprise. Lately, I’ve noticed people saving barrels of rice, corn, wheat, and other food stuffs. So, there must be some kind of collapse coming. They are hoarding Red Winter Wheat, which means that this collapse thing is going to be BIG and long. So I’ve, of course, been planning ahead for the “Collapse“.

Well, you can stick your head in the sand and ignore the impending collapse if you want to, but for myself, I’m saving ice. As you know, I’m a refrigeration guy, and I have an advantage there. I’m not saying that to gloat, it’s just fact. When the electricity goes off, people are going to need ice to keep their beer cold. I figure that I can make a fortune on that alone. They say that wise people can turn loss into opportunity. So, I’ll be making my fortune off all of you losers that didn’t pay attention when you were warned repeatedly, fairly and squarely.

I’m putting away a closet full of bullshit, so my blog doesn’t run out. I have a one-horse power magneto generator that I can put in the place of the back wheel of my wife’s bicycle, and if she pedals hard enough I can make microwave popcorn, and watch the Forty-Niners on television.
I trained the dog to catch turkeys, so I won’t go hungry. She does real great, but I’ve had trouble teaching her to kill them before she brings them in the house. Apparently it’s a housekeeping thing with the little woman. Something about feathers and crap all over. I tell her that it is a real set back for my dog to beat her with a broom, and our life will soon depend on the dog bringing us turkeys, when the collapse comes.

We have several wood stoves with flat tops for cooking, and we have heat collection coils in the stove to heat the bath water. If I run out of wood for the stove, I can move the water heater wires over to my wife’s bicycle. She has been complaining all summer about not getting enough exercise, and her “back there” is getting to be too big. I guess that she will be happy for the opportunity to exercise, sometimes I amaze myself at my thoughtfulness. I don’t know, I’ve told her that her “back there” looks great to me. I try to be complementary, but she never seems to appreciate it. Women! I’ll never figure them out!

I have a lot more good ideas, but somebody told me once that you should not give all your good ideas away, so I’ll also be hoarding some good ideas. As you know, I come from a long line of people, that struggled to survive, so I know a lot of things the hard way already, I feel so sorry for you losers.

Anyway, it looks like the only setback that I'll be suffering when the collapse comes, is after I told my wife about my plans, she said that I would be staying real busy chopping the tree down in the yard. It seems that I will need the wood to be hand whittling my self a new bed to sleep in. The hard part of surviving will be about the same, it will be trying the figure out women. That’s a free survival tip for you people paying attention. The future of humanity will depend on keeping women happy!



ernie@branscombcenter.com

Island Mountain Copper Mine

This rock was assayed at 20% copper.

Photo Copyright, by Rob Lavinsky. I don't know the guy, or how he came by the photo's of these crystals, but these photos were taken from mindat.org. They are from the Island Mountain Copper Mine, just over the hill from Garberville. I was interested because we have so few gem quality rocks in our area. The description stated that they were up to 2mm. Whatever that means.

The Island Mountain Copper Mine is between Spy Rock and Alderpoint, on the Eel River. The mine is located in the South-West corner of Trinity County California. The mine produced ore from 1915 until 1930. They mined 4100 tons of copper, 140,000 ounces of silver, and 8,600 ounces of gold. I'll bet that you didn't know that the Eel river had gold did you? The copper deposit is part of a sulfide deposit made up of pyrite, chalcopyrite, and pyrrhotite. There is some gem quality rocks and crystals out there.

All of these minerals are found in what is described in wicapedia as a "shear zone in the Franciscan Assemblage" then they included a very colorful and interesting description of the Franciscan Assemblage, which if you could understand the words you already know about it, if you don't you will just be confused.

In researching "Eel River Jade I found this gem in "Old And Sold dot com":

"not too many years ago a huge jade boulder weighing over one thousand pounds was found in California near the area of the Trinity River. The boulder was one solid mass of every shade of green imaginable-and some of it was thought to be imperial green. And in Mendocino County, California, a large deposit of jade was found.
Jade, in both varieties, jadeite and nephrite, ranges in colors from white to dark green, but the imperial green jade is the most highly desired. A necklace of matched imperial beads has been valued at $100,000.
The finding of just one piece of jade can turn family picnics into wild scrambles in search for more. Watch for both nephrite and jadeite-although jadeite is rarer and therefore has more value. But watch for both of them along the beaches and in stream beds, and also watch for deposits of jade.
Watch for the rare jadeite at the North Fork of the Eel River,"

All of the above is pretty much true, and verifiable, but as you all know, I can remember a lot of stuff that I really never paid much attention to at the time, so the rest of this will be pure “Bullshistory” from my somewhat feeble recollections.

I don’t know exactly where the Island mountain Copper Mine is, but I think that it was on what was known, back in the sixties, as “The Simpson Ranch”. The Simpson Ranch was subdivided into parcels and sold off. The part with the mine on it was sold to a mining company. The mining company built a large dormitory type building for their workers and for stockholder visits. They were selling shares in the mining company and they were trying to encourage investors to buy in.

At some point during the reopening of the mine the mining company spilled a large amount of Copper sulfate ladened water into the Main Eel river. I’m not sure what the impact to the river was, all that I remember is the spill. The California Fish and Game closed the operation down, and restained them from any further operation at the mine site until they could prove that they could do it without damaging the river. The investors fled like fleas from a drowned dog.

The mining property was bought by a group of people that started “Heartwood College”, where they taught alternative medicine, holistic being, acupuncture, and massage. They remodeled Dr. Simpson’s house to become the cookhouse, a lunch room, and they held some classes there also. The dormitory was used for housing. They added greatly to the buildings, and have become quite popular, so they have grown. Heartwood was just recently sold to an heiress of the Campbell soup family, who also bought Hartsook Inn. The Hartsook is going to be a branch campus.

The original Simpson house/cook house was built by Southern Humboldt Building supply back in 1970? For Dr. Simpson from Eureka. Some of you Old-Timers will remember him. He was a very, very successful dentist. His add on TV. Was “Call Dr. Simpson, your friendly credit Dentist”. He would fix your teeth on credit, and finance your payments at a small interest rate. He was the largest dentistry provider in Humboldt County. Say what you like about how he got rich, he provided tooth care to people that otherwise couldn’t afford it. People were grateful, and almost always paid.

Let’s see… we were talking about a mine. There is a new potential mine at Island Mountain, a hard rock mine that would provide suitable hard rock for construction in the bay area. It would require the reopening of the railroad to ship the rock. On the surface, it sounds like it would cause a relatively small impact on the environment. And, it would bring those big machines that I dearly love. But I understand the nay-sayers already have gotten wind of it and will probably have something to say.

But if it all goes well, maybe I’ll get to fix the air conditioner on one of these big dozers. They always screw up the air-conditioner when they take them apart to move them. I usually trade my repair time for the opportunity to push a few rocks around. I doooo love machines!

Red Mountain Buckwheat

A while back, while we were talking about Spy Rock and Iron Peak, Ross Sherburn asked if we were going to talk about Red Mountain. That peaked my interest. (The literary among you are now groaning, but I could resist, the rest are saying, huh?)

There are as many “Red Mountains” as there are Salmon Creeks, or Bear creeks. It’s a very common name, but I’m sure that the one that Ross is referring to is the mountain in Northern Mendocino County, down there by Christina, the mountain that had the big fire on it last year, during the lightning series of 2008.

It seems like every mountain on the north coast is distinguished by something. Iron peak is a huge manganese deposit. Red mountain is one of the largest and tastiest deposits of Nickel and Chromium in the United States. They would have started mining it years ago, I think that the big push to mine it was in the eighties, but the environmentalists got it stopped.

The mining operation would have been a huge open pit mine similar to the Kennecott Copper mine in Utah. The thought of all the huge machines tickled me and part of me wanted to see it happen. Imagine huge machines right here in the Eel River. But, wait a minute. Hugh machines in the Eel River? I have to admit, that kinda’ scared me.

The mining companies made many assurances that there would be no environmental damage. That they would collect all of the water that came off of the tailings, and they would treat it somehow. I’m not sure what they were going to do to treat the water, but I couldn’t help but start thinking about the 1964 flood, where a good percentage of the water and snowmelt that caused the Eel River flood, came right off Red Mountain. I just wasn’t sure those city boys had seen a good old Eel River storm.

About the time that they got real heavy into planning to mine Red Mountain, they found a unique plant that only grows there. Yep, just to make sure that everybody knew that this plant was unique, they named it the Red Mountain Buckwheat. Well that plant alone stopped everything, but that didn’t stop the Enviros, they “found” several more plants, and that stopped any thoughts of mining Red Mountain. Poof, there went my big machines.

I liked the fact that I wouldn’t have to worry about our beautiful canyon though, because just between you and me I don’t trust big mining companies, and what can we do if they do screw up our canyon. We might loose our fish. Back then we had Salmon, now the only thing that we would lose would be Squaw Fish. Maybe we should mine it now.

Anyway, the Red Mountain Buckwheat is a plant that grows well on open ground, with poor soil of serpentine base. I would not be surprised if Ben and Kym have some up on their mountain in Salmon Creek. The oaks and Manzanita have been choking the buckwheat out lately, but the recent fires must have solved that problem.

Red Mountain is a very large, slightly rounded on top mountain, that really lends itself well to mining. The railroad is right below it. The industry would have changed the economic structure of the north coast dramatically.

So, there’s your mountain Ross.

(Some More reading)

Kennecot Copper Mine

Red Mountain Buckwheat

Tag, I'm what???

There is this thing in blogger-world called “tagging”. I don’t fully understand tagging, but I spent most of last night, (while I wasn’t sleeping), wondering what tagging was about, and what its purpose was. I was tagged by Ekovox, who seems to be a great guy, just about anybody would be glad to have him as a friend. I thought, what the heck, I’ll give it a try, but first I have to understand it, and figure out how it works.

What I been able to figure out about tagging, just by wondering about it, is that it must be something that bloggers do when there is nothing really going on to talk about. Kind of like newscasters waiting for a breaking story that seems to drag on forever, so they start interviewing each other.

The tagging question was: “post seven things you probably don't know (or don't want to know) about me...Well my life is an open book, so if there are seven things that you don’t know about me, you just haven’t been paying attention.

So, if I’m allowed I’ll just bend the rules a little bit, and I will just tell you a few things about myself with out regard to how you may or may not feel about it.

1- I don’t follow rules all that well. I spend a lot of time wondering how a rule might fit me, and whether or not that rule should really apply to me. I find that most rules really shouldn’t apply to me. So, I make up most of my standards as I go along. I have a rule to never participate in a chain anything, not a chain letter, not a chain gang, not a chain blog post. No chains for me.

2- I’ll do almost anything that someone else asks me to do. I’ve done some really stupid stuff for people because I respect them, like them, or if they ask real nicely. I’ll even participate in a chain post, as long as I think that I’m making somebody else happy. I don’t know what that say’s about me, but I like making other people happy. Even if I have to bend my rules a little.

3-Everything has to “Work” for me. Everything is a machine to me. When someone tells me that God made the heaven and Earth, and on the seventh day he rested. I totally believe it, but in order for that to “work” for me I have to ask “Where did God come from”. I’ve never gotten an answer that works for me. I have a lot of religious friends, but I like them because they are inherently good people, not just because they are religious. And, oh… There are a lot of religious people that I know who are not good people, and I don’t like them a lot.

4- I believe everything that anybody tells me. As long as they look me in the face and use a little sincerity. I’ve never been able to figure out why somebody might lie. I don’t include politicians in that statement, but then, they can’t pass the look me in the face part. So, I guess that they are really not lying to me. They are just trying to get elected.

5- I can’t carry-on a meaningful conversation with most anonymous people, but some of the most thoughtful posts that I’ve ever received were from “Anonymous”, to the point that I wished desperately that I knew who they were. The just-plain-bitter anonymouses, I have no desire to know, I just wish that they would go away, I have even been known to bleep their nastiness. I can’t do business with anybody wearing mirrored sun glasses. That should be a separate subject, but I will have enough anyway.

6- I greatly admire wit and humor, and I find wit and humor in most people that work with their hands, and have a poor education. It pains me if I can’t have a meaningful conversation with another human being. I’m a lot like Will Rogers, “I’ve never met a man I didn’t like.” I found gold in talking to people that most wouldn’t talk to. People that you know had to learn everything that they know the hard way.

7- I don’t like imposing on other people, so I’m not going to pass this letter on to anyone, but I do find that I like replies better than making posts. I make no rules on my blog, and I don’t care if somebody changes the subject, or asks a question on another subject, as long as somebody has something on their mind, I want to hear it. I know by talking to other bloggers that they would way-more provide a forum for a conversation than make posts that the people want to read and leave. So if you want to post your seven things here, please do so. If you want to do it on your own blog, you can say I tagged you. So, Tag your it.

7 ½ -I love this canyon that we call home. But I guess everybody knows that.

Iron Peak

Photo of Iron Peak, by Robin Shelly. Click on photo to enlarge.

Robin must have a million dollar camera. This file is huge if you click on it. Fair warning to you dial-up folks.

The text that she included is "This is for Mr. Sherburn".

The photo appears to me to be taken from the North West.

I went on a service call up there one time, but it was so long ago I don't remember what I worked on. It was a Calif. dept. of Forestry lookout back then. All I really remember is the very narrow road on the last little stretch up the hill and the copper colored jade green rocks. I think that I have one that I picked up in my yard. I don't know why they call it Iron peak, it looks like copper ore to me.

I'll let Robin Correct all my mistakes

Spy's passenger train.

Click on photo to enlarge greatly. thanks.

This is a photo of the two-car passenger train that ran daily between Tiburon and Eureka, this photo was taken at Ridgewood summit between Willits and Ukiah. This is the train that Spyrock mentioned, that traveled the Eel River Canyon. I'm not sure that the train ever had more that two cars, but when I took the train up the canyon back in 1961-2 it was a single car self-motorized.

"NWP Engineer Bill Silverthorn made an unscheduled 12:30PM stop at Ridge this winter day in early 1942. Grabbed his camera and made this wonderful snow scene while his engine's safety blew impatiently. No. 143, wearing her wartime headlight hood, was heavy power for the Tiburon-Eureka day train. The road foreman called her this morning to deal with any snowdrifts enroute, the evidence of which sticks to her pilot. - Fred Stindt collection, NWPRRHS."

Is this Spy Rock?

photo by  Chris Guenzler.  www. trainweb.org/chris/index

My cousin "Oregon" and Robin Shelly are having a discussion in my E- mail about whether or not this is really "Spy Rock". The only thing that I'm fairly sure of, if I was allowed to speculate, that it is indeed the North Western Pacific rail route, it looks like a smoky day in the '50's, and it was taken from a passenger train. The tick brush in the foreground and the Oak trees in the background are typical of the Eel River. I’d say that it is Spy Rock, and I’m at least 92% sure. I'm 100% sure it's a rock.

Maybe Spyrock knows, if he is still talking to me. I was a little hard on him about the “name” thing. Maybe he’s still off cogitating about whether or not to use names. But, I sure hope that he keeps posting here, he has a lot of informative and interesting things to say. And I CAN deal with the no name thing. It’s just that I deal with it poorly. My bad not his.

Spyrocks Mom.

Eel River canyon at about the location of Spyrock.

I have a commenter that has amazing tales of history that I’ve not heard about before. He has many stories to tell about his experiences, and I’m fascinated by them.

Being from an old family in the Laytonville area, my ancestors go back to the gold rush on all sides of my fathers family. During family gatherings, we frequently relate stories of ancestry, of who is related to whom, and how all of the valley’s history stories connect. So, to have another link to history, that I have not known about, is like discovering gold to me. But, from an editorial standpoint, I get a little nutty when Spyrock posts here. I have come to look forward to his postings, and they are tales about adventure, courage, dedication, getting by, and stories that fit my own background so completely, that his stories are like telling the story of my life, and the life of Laytonville. The stories fit Laytonville so well that I know they are not made up.

The problem that I have is the same problem that I have with most “anonymous” postings. Names and people mean a lot to me. They are the fabric from which I am woven. “Spyrock” in his need to remain anonymous, and leave out first and last names, is immensely frustrating to me. I’m sure that some of you out there enjoy his stories and the names mean nothing to you, but to me it is like telling a great tale of mystery and leaving out the “who-done-it”.

I’ve come to understand that some people like to remain anonymous… I don’t. I was raised with phases like; “Do your family proud; Make a name for yourself; I’d stake my name on it: Proud enough to sign my name to it;” There is many more, but you get the idea.

I was taught that, good bad or ugly, if you did it, you stand behind it, and take the responsibility for it. You get the credit, responsibility, or blame, if the case may be, and there is no stay-out-of-jail free card if you screw-up.

So needless to say, when the new-people moved in and had names like “The Man That Jumped over the Moon, Woman that walks a Cow, Sally Strawberry, Marymae Earthdancer” and so on, but you get the drift… I didn’t trust them. Real people, to my mind, had real names and real families. I was always taught that if a person was proud of his name, it didn’t necessarily mean that they were any kind of a saint, It just meant that they were proud of who they were, and they had character.

So, when I ask who you are, your name tells me who you are, and your history. If you leave out your name, I might as well watch cartoons on TV for entertainment. It doesn’t connect for me.

Spyrock, you have a wonderful and dramatic history, and I like and relate to the way you tell a tale. I speak your language. You are the kind of person that I hoped to attract when I started this blog. I just wish I knew who you were, and all you families names, first and last, and how you are related to one another.

I know from reading your story about your mom that she would have been very proud to give her name, first last and middle. The people that knew her were so proud of her that they put her NAME on a school so she could be remembered. Do your family proud and give us her name!

The following is from "Spyrock", the amazing man hidden in the mist of mystery.
"spyrock said...
"my mom was born at the indian reservation hospital in covelo back in 1911. her father carried her by horseback 15 miles back to the west side of the eel a mile from spyrock where they lived. my mom and uncle delbert rode a white mule to spyrock school. they lived in a log cabin type house on the south side of shell rock creek just down the hill from the old simmerly house. from the 3rd floor of the simmerly house you could see their house. when my mom got old enough to go to high school, they moved and later my mom lived in mill valley with her aunt and rode the ferry boat to san francisco state which was downtown in those days. she became a teacher but when she got married they tried to hide the fact from everyone and got married in napa because a married woman couldn't teach in those days because of the depression. so she lost her job and got hired teaching school for kids in a hospital that had tuberculosis and rheumatic fever. i still test positive for tb. when the war started, she got a job driving a school bus and eventually got hired as a teacher again. a year after i was born she went back to teaching. a year later she was made the principal of the school.you have to remember, this was back in the days of radio, no tv. the pta meeting was the main event in town back in those days, the whole town would show up. and every holiday there would be a christmas pagent that the whole school would participate in, a great holloween event and so on. this was back in the days of paddles and all the kids were terrified of my mom. they would litteraly run away from me when i was a kid. she had a backup 8th grade teacher nicknamed mr. goodnight who would paddle the bigger kids. so all the kids kept their distance from me when i was young. i was never referred to by my own name until i went away to college. i was always referred to as her son by everyone in town except friends my own age. after ten years of being a principal, they made her a superintendant because they built another school. she could have been the county superintendant, but she turned them down. after she retired, they named a school after her and she served on the county board of education until she was 91years old. no one would run against her. i was never comfortable with this situation. i always had to dress up and be an example for the other kids and if i didn't there was hell to pay.but for growing up in spyrock, my mom achieved a lot more than most women did in her day. she was a trail blazer and i'm proud to be her son."
End story

Spyrock brings a tear to my eye, a tear for the mom that he is so proud of, his Nameless Mom.

Change

First: Congratulations to the winners and the people that voted for them. There are no losers. The people that truly gave their hearts and souls to work for the candidate of their choice should never be called losers. The candidates that put themselves out there for all to judge, should be held in the highest regard by all American citizens. They have competed in We The People’s most important process. Few people could aspire to such heights. "Change" has happened to us, with or without our vote.

Now is not the time to sit back and see what happens. Nothing should happen without our support and direction. “The price of freedom is eternal vigilance”. Thomas Jefferson.

We have reached a pivotal point in all of American history. There is no one out there that does not feel “change” in their bones this morning. It has been the most interesting election in history, and the most participated-in election we’ve ever had. So, by theory, “The People” have spoken.
The country is in the worse mess that it has ever been in, the economy is shambles, we are at war, we have few jobs, and even fewer good paying Jobs. We don’t have enough energy to fuel progress. Our food supply is being poisoned, and we don’t know what is safe to eat anymore. Most of all we have a government that has lost touch with the common American. If there has ever been a time in history when our destiny has been shaped by wealth, it is now. President Obama’s election was the most “well financed” in all of history. Were we bought? Or did we want “change”.

The “iron” has never been hotter, and the need to “strike” has been greater. We need to all learn to participate in elections, and follow up with our demands and needs. Don’t let Wall Street fool us, ever again. We need "change."

I most of all want to hear how people are feeling this day.

Vote!

Vote, Tuesday November 4th 2008

I don't think that I ever voted for a president that I was really happy with. I have voted in a few local elections that I have been totally happy with, and the candidate that I supported won and did a good job.
Unfortunately when someone is running for President of the United States, they feel that winning is so important that they will tell you anything just to get your vote. I guess you just have to decide who is the worse liar and vote for the other guy. I think that even the most astute student of politics must realize that what the candidates say, just can't happen, so they hold their nose and vote for who they think might be the better of the two evils. Do I sound Cynical? Good! I wish that enough people were cynical, so that we would band together and clean up what is wrong with our electoral system.

Hardly anybody wanted to bailout Wall Street. It was something like 82% against the bailout, but “Big Money” demanded a bailout, and got it. In about a year we will be right back here talking about another bailout. I’m not above saying that I told you so, so look forward to it. Even the politicians know that America needs an economic base to survive, and I don’t see the politicians bringing that many jobs back to America to stimulate the economy that fast. So, next year will be bailout II, look for it.

Did government do anything to help the family farmer? No they let the big corporate farmers take them over. After all of the farms were in the hands of the stockholders they came up with a ridiculous plan to grow corn to make ethanol to fuel cars. The corporate farms are doing great now that the families have been pushed out. If you don’t know what is wrong with ethanol, you haven’t been paying attention. Hint: cost of production is twice that of gasoline, and the fermentation process releases the dread CO2 into the atmosphere.

But I digress. The next thing that they did to the American worker is take his job away from him and give it to a twelve year old Chinese peasant girl, that is willing to work twelve hour days for practically nothing. Instead of insisting on enforcing balance-of-trade laws, our politicians threw them out the window and told us to deal with it, “We live in a World economy now!”. That means that the wall street investors and company CEO’s are making millions on cutting you out of your old job.

Then the politicians decided to give the young and the unfortunate people a chance to buy housing. They made sub-prime (Meaning “Not the best”) loans to people with marginal incomes. They made buying a house sound great. They told them that they would be paying rent anyway, so they might as well be paying for a house. They let them in the door with low payments, and told them that when the higher interest rates kicked-in in a couple of years, that their house would be worth way more that they had paid for it, and they could use the equity that they had built in their home to parlay a new “low interest, fixed rate loan”. It sounded great to the people that had no other choices anyway, they needed a place to live. Unfortunately (I use that word a lot) what really happened is the fat cats were making so much money selling housing to sub-prime buyers that they over built the market, and housing prices dropped instead of increasing. So instead if renegotiating the loans to reflect the new value, they took people homes away, and paid managing companies to maintain the foreclosed houses. Many of which were destroyed by the former owners on their way out. After all they had nothing to lose, they already lost their house and investment.

What is worse, is that the corporate companies that sold the homes to sub-prime home owners, turned around and sold those loans to Fanny May and Freddie Mac. So, the rats that sold the homes to people that couldn’t afford them had nothing to lose, and the wall street investors pocketed the profits off the home sales. Beginning to smell a rat?

Then the final straw was when all of the wealth had been drawn away from Wall Street, because there is nothing “real” left to invest in, wall street started to collapse. Instead of letting it collapse, our politicians decide to bail them out.

You know who is going to pay Wall Street don’t you? It will be those farmers that lost their farms to the corporations, It will be the people who lost their houses to the corporations, it will be the factory workers whose jobs were sold overseas, it will be all the people trying to get by, while the Wall Street raiders are busy figuring out how to put that $700,000,000,000.00 in their pocket. But, because we have no real economy in the United states anymore, and we have no real product to sell off-shore our “bleed” will keep draining our country dry. And the wall street fat cats will get their skim.

They will have it all pocketed in less that a year, and we be back here to hear me say “I told you so!”

So, go ahead, hold your nose and vote, It may be the last thing that we have any control over. Now, wouldn’t it be nice to be able to decide for ourselves who we might like as candidates, without mainstream media and big money telling us who we “need”?

Polio

Polio victims in Africa still crawl on paddded knees.

Robin said: …“but I do remember everyone in Laytonville lining up at the elementary school cafeteria to get a "pink dot" of polio vaccine on a sugar cube back in the '60s.”

Robin, the sugar cube that I ate was not pink it looked like a plain old sugar cube. The vaccine that they use now is as clear as water, and they drip it right on the tongue.

Robin must have a fertile mind, she keeps bringing up subjects that I’ve already made notes that I want to do a post on. Last week I made a note that I wanted to do a post on Polio eradication.

When I was a school kid, polio was the dreaded disease. We couldn’t go swimming in the summer because the “old wives” decided that Polio came from the water. We had an outbreak of Polio in Laytonville, and several kids disappeared from school. One came back wearing braces for life! That brings polio home, even for a kid.

The March Of Dimes was instituted to develop a vaccine against polio. Every store that a person went into had a card on the counter with dime slots in it, and if you got any dimes in your change you were expected to place them in the dime slots to fund polio research. Some people asked for dimes to place in the cards. I can still see the card in my mind. On the top of the card was a photo of a little kid in an “Iron Lung” that was used to help victims of paralysis breathe. I remember wondering if that was where my friends from school went. It didn’t look like that much fun to me. I remember that sometimes my Mom or Dad would give me a dime to put in one of the slots.

From Biography, Dr. Jonas salk:

"In 1955 Salk's years of research paid off. Human trials of the polio vaccine effectively protected the subject from the polio virus. When news of the discovery was made public on April 12, 1955, Salk was hailed as a miracle worker. He further endeared himself to the public by refusing to patent the vaccine. He had no desire to profit personally from the discovery, but merely wished to see the vaccine disseminated as widely as possible."

Many may know, but some don’t, that Rotary International has taken on the job of eradicating Polio throughout the whole world. Rotary was asked to accept the job of eradicating polio by the World Health Organization. In 1979 Rotary accepted that task, and the goal was to eradicate Polio by 1984.

The Rotary Club was asked to front the effort to eradicate polio because they take no position on religion or politics. Their stance of neutrality and impartiality made them the ideal vehicle for getting rid of the dreaded disease because they are welcome in most countries of the world. It seemed like it would be easy. Because Rotarians are in all most businesses, and have members all over the world, the vaccine can be moved cost free anywhere in the world, and can be delivered to a child’s tongue for under two dollars a dose. The only cost is the drug itself. Once polio is wiped out, it could be gone forever, like Smallpox.

What the Rotarians did not anticipate, and they should have, is the colossal stupidity of the human condition, and the struggle continues today. They gain a little and lose a little, and children in some countries are still getting polio.

From Time Magazine:
“In the summer of 2003, leaders of the region [Nigeria] stopped polio inoculations after rumors spread that the vaccine could transmit AIDS and render girls infertile. It was a bad time--and a very bad place--to halt vaccines. There are now 35 million Nigerian kids under age 5, and 20% have no polio vaccinations. Says Oliver Rosenbauer, spokesman for WHO's Global Polio Eradication Initiative: "That's a lot of breathing space for the poliovirus to survive."

Dr. Hamid Jafari:
"in certain places, fatwas have been issued against the vaccine." In those places, Muslims have stopped state health workers from entering their houses and administering the polio vaccine, which is administered orally, to their children.
Dr. Jafari adds that paranoia is not the only reason for the hostility to the polio drops. Uttar Pradesh is notorious for being one of the worst-administered regions of India, and most of the state has appallingly bad hospitals and health services. Muslims, who are among the poorest of Indians, bear the brunt of this collapse in the state's health infrastructure. Dr Jafari says: "There's a sense of frustration among many Muslims: they tell the health workers, we've never seen anyone coming to take care of us, why are you coming just to give us polio drops?"

Amid the heartache and frustration of eliminating Polio, there are good stories of epic proportions, wars have stopped the safe delivery of the vaccine in many countries, but there are exceptions:

From The World health Organization:
“Over 75,000 volunteer vaccinators delivered poliovaccine to children over a three-day period (13 - 15 August) in the first of three rounds of National Immunization Days in Democratic Republic of Congo. Fighting stopped in nine-tenths of the country to allow the campaign to go ahead, following the intervention of the UN Secretary-General Mr Kofi Annan, urging all sides to comply with truces for polio immunization.
In Kisangani, 70 percent of children were vaccinated despite the outbreak of fighting on the third day. A ceasefire was agreed by the Presidents of Uganda and Rwanda, following a request by Mr Annan. An extra "catch-up" campaign to vaccinate unreached children in that area is scheduled.
"This is a significant step that brings us closer to a polio-free world," said Dr Gro Harlem Brundtland, Director-General of WHO. "War is one of the greatest hurdles that we now face in our effort to eradicate this disease. Through the joint efforts of the UN agencies, the Government of the Democratic Republic of Congo, Rotary International and local authorities, we overcame this in the interests of the world's children."

The Presidents of Uganda and Rwanda agreed that their war was not against their children, and they declared a cease-fire for the vaccinations to take place.

And of course, as time goes on, more children are born that are not immune, and the Rotarians start over, two steps forward and one step back. It looked like the goal would finally be reached in 2005, but the recent conflicts around the world have built new walls of danger and mistrust.

I am not against any Religion, but I have seen the suffering of too many children to accept a closed mind. Some feel the fight against the disease will be won, it is only a matter of time and opportunity. On the other hand, there is some indication, even here in the United States, of reluctance to have children vacinated for any of a variety of diseases. So, who really has the right to decide.

Polio may be with us a long time.

More on Polio

Is "Pure Sugar" a contradiction in terms?

I was in the store the other day, and I was trying to find some "Pure Cane Sugar" like they had in the good old days. I like to make my own "Maple Syrup" with cane sugar and a little pure maple flavoring. I know, sugar in any form is not good, but I still like a little of something sweet on my French toast or pancakes. The syrup that I have been making lately turn to sugar crystals as soon as it cools. I suspected that something has changed but I didn’t know what, so I checked the bag and all it said was “Contents, Sugar”.

I went to the store and that is all that I can find; “contents sugar.” If been told that high-fructuous corn sugar is bad and it plugs up your blood cells to the point that a Halloween Vampire doesn’t even want your blood. It makes you hungry and fat, and bad luck befalls you.

So, is bag sugar high fructuous corn sugar or is it the good stuff?

You Tubing

I'M sorry, but the following film just violates everything that I believe in!!!

Yuck!!!!

Kristabel just did a post wondering how to cook a good egg. Numerous people said DO NOT use a Teflon pan because of the chemicals that it releases. Then my good buddy Kim Sallaway sends me this:

“The revelation in Hong Kong that melamine was also in eggs has led to questions over whether the chemical, which is normally used to make plastics, had been mixed into livestock feed and contaminated China's wider food chain.

Zhang Zhongjun, programme officer with the UN Food and Agricultural Organisation in China, said the melamine in the eggs could mean the chemical was present in a wide range of foods such as farm-raised meats and fish.

Zhang told AFP that China's agriculture ministry was investigating the possibility that melamine had been mixed into farming feed.”

The UN-credible Un-edible egg.

This is just one more thing that you can thank Wall Street for. Sending egg production to China! ("We live in a world ecconomy now", you have to die to eat)

Does anybody know where I can buy farm fresh eggs, grown here, with real food.

What makes this photo "Art"?

Before I explain anything about this photo, give me your thoughts. What I’m looking for is how you would explain your composition if you had created this dramatic photo.
What do you think that it might be all about? What do you notice?

More:
I was scanning through a group of photos listed as art, when I came across this one. Once you get past the double-take that most men will make. Okay! I made a triple take, so scold me! I stared to wonder about it’s composition and what the photo was all about.

Left brained people are more logical people. If they see that if gear “A” turns to the right, gear “B” has to turn to the left, and it either works or it doesn’t, what you see is what you get, period. Right brained people see things much differently. They can clearly see that gear “A” doesn’t necessarily have to turn to the right, it could turn to the left, so either gear could really turn either way. They might say something like; “Which way do you feel about how gear “B” should really turn”.

Most people use both sides of their brains “A” and “B”, but some people seem to be at negative equilibrium, like a marble on a pipe, the marble will either roll to the right and stay there, or to the left and stay there. Myself? I like to “think like a marble in a bowl”. No matter which flight of fancy that my brain takes off on, it will always find that comfortable spot in the middle, where all thoughts are equal.

I started off thinking with my left brain, so I clicked on the enlarge feature to look at the photo much closer. My first thought was; “Why is she hiding her head? Then I noticed that there was no loose dirt around the hole, so it must have been a preexisting hole, or someone hauled off all of the dirt. Hmmm… Is she looking for something? If she is, it isn’t obvious what she‘s looking for, so I deducted that this girl (Yes, I noticed that it was a girl) must be implying that she is hiding from something.

I noticed that there is an extension cord running to the back of the round frame-like thing it the middle of the photo, and I noticed that the grass in the frame is different than the grass that the frame is setting on. I deducted that it is probably a backlit photo setting on a lawn. So, it was a photo of a photo and there is at least two artists with a camera involved here!

I right clicked on the picture, the caption said: “Earth Day”. I fiddled around with Google for a bit, and found the photo connected to an Earth Day celebration, and the title read; “Don’t stick your head in the sand about the environment, pay attention.” Then my right brain kicked in and I thought, “what a great use of art, it caught my eye, it made me think, It tickled my fancy,” (The guys know what I mean, and maybe a few girls) Then I thought, “that must be what art is all about, to get your attention and make you think. Wow, mission accomplished!’

Then my marble started to roll back to it’s point of equilibrium, in the center of my bowl, but I have to admit it was a wild ride. My bowl not only has a left and a right side, it also has an “A” for alcohol, an “S” sex, an “A” for adventure, an “E” for excitement. On so on, but you get my drift. The only time that my marble really rests is when I’m asleep, but sometimes I wake up and find it rolling around in it’s bowl all by itself without my permission, and it does some pretty interesting things.

After I looked at the photo I went to bed and went to sleep, a few hours later I woke up and caught my marble playing by itself again. The logical part of my brain slapped my face and said, pay attention! What happened here is some dude got his girlfriend drunk, told her that she could have a part in saving the world by getting herself half naked and sticking her head in a hole in the dirt while he pranced around and took pictures. My marble rolled passed the part of my brain that said that I could be an artist too. I fantasized about it a while, then I told my marble to get back to the middle where it belonged, and went back to sleep. Sometimes my marble gets so wild that I almost loose it, but so far so good!

What's your favorite line.

Satellite view of Robin Shelly's home. Robin’s home was just recently revealed by Suzy Blah Blah.

Robin suggested that she was up for a little Sweetness and Light, and thought that it would be really neat to post some favorite movie quotes. I haven’t been to a lot of movies lately, so I thought that it might be fun to do more than just movie quotes.

I like people, and find them to be interesting, and I am often curious about what makes them tick. What I am interested in more than anything is what quotes might resonate with who you are. Give your favorite quote or your favorite poem, being hokey counts as a real plus. Deep drama is an “A”. Sadness is a “C”. Humor is an “A+”. There is no failing grade. Just be honest and talk about what you like, or what moves you.

Okay, I’ll start. This isn’t necessarily deep, or moving, but I particularly liked the lines from True Grit. Where John Wayne stared as Rooster Cogburn.

[Rooster confronts the four outlaws across the field]

Ned Pepper: (One of the outlaws) "What's your intention? Do you think one on four is a dogfall?"

Rooster Cogburn: (Good guy)"I mean to kill you in one minute, Ned. Or see you hanged in Fort Smith at Judge Parker's convenience. Which'll it be?"

Ned Pepper: I call that mighty bold talk for a one-eyed fat man.

Rooster Cogburn: Fill your hands, you son of a bitch. (As he sticks the reins in his mouth, slaps his horse, and gallops across the field toward the outlaws with guns blazing.

One of my favorite lines from a song is from Bobby Magee by Chris Christopherson.
“Freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose”

And of course my favorite author is Shakespeare, and my favorite lines are from King Henry the Fifth, and the Battle of St. Crispens day speech. Either you know it already, or you don’t, but with some study as to what he said in those lines, you will find it to be greatly inspiring! Fair warning, It’s not easy to understand, so take it one line at a time until you know what Shakespeare said. Most dedicated Shakespeare fans can quote the whole speech. I'm not that good at remembering lines, so I just read and enjoy them.

In the play, the speech was made as the british King Henry the Fifth was going into battle in France. The kings men were greatly out-numbered, and they were weary from crossing the English Channel in a ship. They yearned for more men to help them, but Henry gave this most inspiring speech before leading his men into battle.

Enter the KING
WESTMORELAND. O that we now had here But one ten thousand of those men in England That do no work to-day!

KING. What's he that wishes so? My cousin Westmoreland? No, my fair cousin;

If we are mark'd to die, we are enow

To do our country loss; and if to live,

The fewer men, the greater share of honour.

God's will! I pray thee, wish not one man more.

By Jove, I am not covetous for gold,

Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost;

It yearns me not if men my garments wear;

Such outward things dwell not in my desires.

But if it be a sin to covet honour,

I am the most offending soul alive.

No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England.

God's peace! I would not lose so great an honour

As one man more methinks would share from me

For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more!

Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host,

That he which hath no stomach to this fight,

Let him depart; his passport shall be made,

And crowns for convoy put into his purse;

We would not die in that man's company

That fears his fellowship to die with us.

This day is call'd the feast of Crispian.

He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,

Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam'd,

And rouse him at the name of Crispian.

He that shall live this day, and see old age,

Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,

And say 'To-morrow is Saint Crispian.'

Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,

And say 'These wounds I had on Crispian's day.'

Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,

But he'll remember, with advantages,

What feats he did that day.

Then shall our names, Familiar in his mouth as household words-

Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter, Warwick and Talbot,

Salisbury and Gloucester-

Be in their flowing cups freshly rememb'red.

This story shall the good man teach his son;

And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,

From this day to the ending of the world,

But we in it shall be remembered-

We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;

For he to-day that sheds his blood with me

Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,

This day shall gentle his condition;

And gentlemen in England now-a-bed

Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here,

And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks

That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.

Okay, What’s your favorite lines? Robin?

Talking Heads.

I'll admit it, I'm a news junkie. If I turn on the television, I’ll switch to a news channel first. I have always been a very trusting person, and I’m very likely to believe whatever I hear someone say, because why would they lie to me?

I’m very likely to believe someone that looks me right in the eye, person to person, and tells me something. That feeling of trust goes away to a certain extent when I’m watching the news on TV. After all, they are getting paid big money to put the news on the air, and they are more likely to slant the news toward the most favorable sponsor.

This political season I’ve become very confused by what I’ve been hearing on TV, and I wonder why is there this huge disparity between what one station says and another, and one newscaster and another? When was the last time that you ever really trusted what a newsperson was telling you?

Do you trust the news coming out of Iraq? Real news out of Iraq is life or death decision making information. How could anyone with a conscience lie to us about what is happening in Iraq? But, the news you hear from some reporters directly conflicts what others say.

Without going into which channels “sponsor” which candidates, I will tell you that it is apparent to any but the most naïve person that there is an obvious bias toward “their candidate”. Bias to the point that I keep expecting the candidate to end the news broadcast with; “This is So and So, and I approve this message”.

I think that what offends me the most, is the self righteous defense of the first amendment by the talking heads. They blather on endlessly about their right to present the news without interference from anyone. They pontificate that, never, never, whatsoever, should anyone even hint that they should change their stories for any reason. I’ve have always honored that right. I think that to receive the truth, our reporters should not be interfered with, no matter how much we don’t like what we are hearing. One would think that it would occur to these people that with great privilege comes great responsibility. Seldom do you hear them say that they try hard to bring us the truth, and say it in a context that we can believe.

What distresses me most, is that what we hear in the media today is so diametrically opposed to what ever else we are hearing, that it just can’t be truth, and we lose faith in all of what we are hearing.

These are some of the most trying, and troubling times that we as Americans have ever been in. Sadly, we can’t get our news from trustworthy sources. How will we decide how to vote, how to honorably end the war? How to provide healthcare to the people that need it, bring jobs back to America? Make working for a living honorable and good paying again?

Sometimes I think that the people on TV should have their mouths washed out with soap. Maybe they could do it on Saturday Night Live, sadly, probably one of the more honest TV programs on television today.

Not a very fair fight!

So, guess who wins.

With all of the camera angles it makes a person wonder how this was filmed. They can't hardly say that "No animals were harmed in the making if this film".

Hello, Lil Barney! Call me back!

This was placed in a post that I made last year. What people don't know is that I have no way of knowing the e-mail adress of the people that post here. So, I am hoping that lil Barney will contact me at my e-mail address that I am posting on the left hand side over there. <-------

I have had a lot of comments that I would like to reply to in a personal fashion, but if people don't leave their e-mail adresses, which I don't recomend because of spam, I can't contact them.

This is from:

Lil Barney said...
Ernie: I've tried to get on for a comment about your article of the Round Valley and the book of Genocide & Vendetta. My husband's great grandfather was Wylacki John.Wylacki John David Wathen, had a son named John David Wathen II, he inturn had twins by an Indian women, Frances (my husband's mother) and John David Wathen III, John David Wathen II married a white women and had a son, John David Wathen IV. John the III lived in Potter Valley and was a state trapper, John the IV had a ranch on Hwy 20, we purchased that ranch, but have since sold it. It is now being made in to a vingard. Known as the Wathen Vingard. I'm hoping you receive this note and you will email me. Lil
October 10, 2008 9:45 PM

Home Sweet Home!

Janis and Twizzle.
(Twizzie was glad to see me too!)


Be it ever so... Whatever. There is no place like home!

Only a few of us know what it feels like to come back into the South Fork of the Eel canyon after being gone for an extended period of time. (Three Days or more) So those few of you know how good I feel right now!

We headed up North, really down the river, and dove into the South Fork Canyon mid-Long Valley. There was about two hundred Tule Elk lying in the rich blond grass at the divide of the drainage, where the South Fork and the Main Eel diverge. The temperature was 81, the sky was blue. The last image of a waning moon hung just barely visible over the green, and slightly blue mountains in the distance. The valley where my ancestors are buried.

As we started down the hill north of Piercy, we were pressed with the beauty of the fall season. The various and obvious different colors of green that the Tan Oak, Madrone, Fir and Redwoods give to the viewer. They are pleasing, and familiar, to our local eyes. The same Tan Oak that my ancestors used to tan the hides of the deer they made their clothes out of. The same Madrone and Manzanita that they used to forge the iron that they needed to shoe their horses and build their wagon wheels. The same Fir and Redwood that they hand split to make their houses and homesteads.

The Buckeye trees are striped of their leaves, and they stand in bare, stark beauty, with their light grey bark, and their starchy balls hanging at the tips of every limb. They are like little children proclaiming that they are first to be dressed for winter. (neener neener)

The Poison Oak teases the unfamiliar with the temptation to pick their raucously loud red leaves, only to turn bright red themselves. The kids in Laytonville, who didn't get poison oak, would take their unaware teachers bouquets of them. The kids soon found out that the teacher was not as dumb as they thought, and they got to write on the blackboard for their efforts. Not me!... I think that it was my Great Grandfather. It's one of those old family tales now, that has become as familiar to me as my genetic love of this canyon.

The Maple trees spot the green hills with their bright, golden yellow leaves, like flakes of gold in a miners pan, proclaiming their rich and rare beauty. As children we would pick the twin-winged seeds of the Maple tree, break them apart, and throw them high into to air to watch them spin to the ground like a slow moving helicopter. We considered it great and good-luck if we found three seeds in one winged cluster, kind of a South Fork canyon version of a four leaved clover.

The Oak trees are lost in their fickle confusion of what color they want to be. They keep trying on colors to see how they look. They throw out the beautiful green color that they have had on all summer, then they try on yellows and reds and oranges then browns, like an aging woman trying on make-up, to make herself appear young and frivolous again. Then she throws them all away in resignation of the inevitable, and gives up her beautiful leaves for another season, where she will once again become young and new.

The oak won’t be giving you acorns this year, she gave you her all last year, and they just laid there ground and went to waste. People have lost their taste for the nutritious Oaks acorns. The Black-Tail deer enjoyed them thought, and they got fat, and there was more than one sighting of triplet fawns this year, so Mrs. Oaks abundance didn’t go completely unappreciated.

The grassy openings are tinged with green edges of grass eager to grow from our, right-on-time, fall rains. Grass, bravely bursting forth in the threat of being killed by a hard winter frost, only to try again, and always succeed.

The tweety birds are gone for the season, and the winter birds are showing up. The Ospreys are gone, and soon the Bald Eagle will come to dine on Northern Pike fish that have almost squeezed out our once generous supply of salmonids.

I just came home from one of the most beautiful places on Earth, Hawaii, and mingled with some of the most friendly people that I ever met, and ate some of the best food I ever ate. But, to come home, is a sweet feeling like nothing else, it is like coming home to the warm arms of a long trusted and faithful lover.

Some of you know what I mean!