well. Christmas was ok. lots of good presents. charlie got blocks, a baby ipod, and a few other things. the blocks are my favorite. i play with them we all do. who wouldn't? it's a game. stack it as high as you can before charlie comes to knock it down.
my poor sister tried to drive to boise on christmas day. she hated it because she didn't leave until late because all the roads were closed. my cousin josh stayed at my house all day. two things.
i would've invited him places. i guess i kind of thought he had plans... i don't know what i thought... but oh well i guess. second, lila and nate were bored together, and would've had a blast with josh probably.
i know, this should've been first probably, but i din't want it to be the first thing people read when they get here. my uncle, Josh's dad, my mom's brother Fred died.
we all knew it was coming. so we took pictures with him. the thing is, I took all those pictures. a lot of priceless pictures. all erased. gone.
my grandpa is going to die soon too. he's been in the hospital the last couple of days to get fluid out of his lungs. his heart is doing it. he may need dialysis too. he doesn't have much longer.
we couldn't go to my uncles funeral. i hope we can go to my grandpa's (heaven forbid it's really soon)
i found a bunch of letters my dad and mom wrote to Gideon while he was on his mission. it's neat to read. my dad was a worse speller than i thought he would be. they're all full of advice, it's neat.(sorry gid, if it was personal, and now you're angry)
well. i lost my job kind of. well.... i did. they have no more for me to do. i was working as a laborer for some electricians on a hotel in logan (the new marriott) well... they finally ran out of things that one does not need a license for so i'm out. i've been playing a lot of games, and now i'm "blogging" (i think that's what the kids are calling it these days) now too. so... that's kind of nice.
couple of fella's my sister knew died in an avalanche or something. poor fellas. she missed the funerals, because of christmas. one was a newly wed. they were 23 and 22 years old. it happened christmas eve day.
i guess that's what she gets for having friends (that's not really MY words)
we've all got one foot in the grave, and the other on a banana peel i guess.
i suppose i really have nothing to say here.
charlie's doing well. and so are all of us.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Pika Don
i have written a small short story. i liked it. so i am posting it.
feel free to skip reading this.
for those interested in plagiarism. feel free to it.
My name is Amaya. I’m afraid my telling you this will do you no good. Hearing history does nothing for preventing it happening again. To learn this we must only look at history. In this we can read of surprises some have had, and prepare for them ourselves.
I have no family now. Even if they'd survived I might not have family. My family was happy once, before the years of fear, before the years of death. I had two older sisters, and a younger brother. My father was called out to war. That was only the beginning of that time, the war took my father, but the end of the war took my family. My father never agreed with the war, he said he knew a general that visited America, and liked them. He went to fight with that general, and died with him and everyone else on Iwo Jima. He was an honorable man. My family had gathered together when he left, to live together in Nagasaki. grandma would talk about her days in this old fishing village. She would speak of our church, and pray to Mary with candles every day. Her smile was always so friendly to me, her face was kind and experienced, the gold tooth seemed to accent her worn out face, and it tried to hide the suffering she had seen in her life. She said she had seen much. She would tell me of her Christian friends, who were not allowed to live here, but these people who were too poor to leave, so they were killed. People she called her childhood friends. People who are now phantoms, phantoms like grandma now is.
"Tell me about your friends gramma," I would beg. I was ten years old, and didn't understand why it pained her to tell these stories. But she always did. "Tell me about hitomi" she first told me that story to warn me against the river. I was very young, and had never learned to swim. I did not know anyone that did. When she finally conceded, she would look to my sisters, to see if they wanted to hear. They always did. We slept in the same bed, my grandma never wanted to tell a story if someone else didn't want to hear it, my sisters loved her stories. Though of suffering, these stories were well told, and we loved to learn of her life.
"If you want to hear it, I will tell you then. Close your eyes, in case you want to sleep. When I was fourteen, my younger sister always wanted to play with us. She would beg us, and we would say yes, only when my mom made us, or when she had her friend hitomi with her. Hitomi was her age, twelve. We loved her because her eyes were always so innocent. Her face always would smile, and she would say to us "if you don't want us to play with you, you are welcome to play with us" and gave such an endearing smile, that we always had to say yes. One of these days we would be playing with her, we raced boats under the bridge in the river. She made the most beautiful boat. She drew all over it. It was the finest boat I had ever seen, she was proud of it, and her wonderful eyes shone when she first showed it to us. We went to the bridge, and raced these boats, from one side to the other." At this time she would pause, and examine us. Now I wonder if she was crying in herself, as she gazed at her granddaughters. When she was satisfied we were still awake, or when she was finished gathering what it took to finish, she started again, this time slower looking off, as if she were watching herself play with these boats again. "We would gather these boats up at the dock, because they would float right under it if we were lucky. And the first to retrieve the boat was the winner. Hitomi’s proud boat sailed beyond her reach, she tried, oh how she tried to grab it. She of course fell in, her beautiful eyes panicked as we shouted instructions to her. Who knows what she heard? No one could help her, because we didn't swim. She surfaced a number of times as we followed her down the river, shouting for help. And at the next dock, when we pulled her out, her beautiful eyes no longer shone" I always missed this ending. I would fall asleep, Grandma would sit in the dark for a while, remembering those years she lived. Soon, because life is too fast to think about, she would go to bed herself. She would cry, because an old woman who doesn’t cry has been foolish, and gets un deserved credit for living We were in school when it happened. When I lost my family it was almost noon. Maybe an hour before the siren had gone off earlier this day, but now we were in line outside. "Here comes a plane" I heard a classmate say. I looked up to see the plane and saw only white. I had begun to wonder why I didn't see blue, as I gazed there into the white, it began to be replaced by objects. A flaming tree, smoke, and I realized I was no longer standing in line. I realized I was on the ground, looking up into a tree. I had been thrown. How far? I don't know. I do not know why the realization was so slow to me, but I hadn't occurred to me for what seemed like minutes, that the Americans had dropped a bomb on us. I began to go for home. Everything was so hot. I remember that the most. The heat. My face, my body was all so hot. Every building I saw was on fire. A ten year old girl I was frightened. As I went I heard screaming in a house that was on fire. It was a boy and his mother. The boy was screaming to his mom "it's hot mamma, it's hot, and why is it so hot in here?" He just kept screaming. The mother was crying. She screamed for her son, trying to reassure him. He was lucky to have heard his mom's voice before he died. Even though it was gasping sobs, I remember she was screaming "I will die with you son. You will not die alone, but with your mother. Keep brave son, I love you, I will die with you." at the same time a neighbor man I think was pulling her from the fire. The man had no shirt on; his back was red and looked like meat. I didn't have the courage to help, I only had the courage to go home. I wanted my own mom.
It wasn't my mom I ran into on the way home, but my sister. I could not recognize her, her face was black. She looked at me with horror, and begged for water. I didn't have water of course. So we walked together. I don’t' know how much time passed. It started to rain. We held our tongues out to catch it, but we couldn't catch enough. It was big rain; it hurt to be hit by it. It was then I realized my face must be so burnt. My body must be too. I started to look at myself. My clothes were rags. Skin was hanging off me everywhere. It was so hot. We were so thirsty. Walking we came upon a big bin full of water. They used it to put out fires when they would break out in the city. People were stuffing themselves in it, and there was no room for us. I thought of hitomi as we walked towards the river, towards the center of the blast.
My sister died at the river. We tried to get to the other side. The bridge was not there anymore. I used someone’s body as a raft. My sister did too. That was the last time I ever saw her. Floating across that river felt good. I put my face in there, and drank a little. The coolness on my face felt the best, I didn't even care that people were dead in there. I took some water with me, the air was so stifling. Everyone was calling for water. They would scream for it. This is how I killed three people, by giving them water. They would beg I would give them the can I had full of water, they would take long draws of water, then hold their stomachs, and cry in pain as they died. I didn’t know any better, and after the third one I started to call it the can of death, and threw it from me. I was very scared that I would die from it too.
I reached where my home was before this blast. Its fire was almost out; the whole thing was on the ground. I looked for my grandma. I looked through the bodies lying everywhere. It was hard to recognize anyone. None of them had any eyes; some had no head at all. I found one with a gold tooth. This was my grandma. What does a ten year old girl do? She held a smaller male with her. That must have been my brother. How I loved them dearly. Looking for a place to sit, I crossed many bodies. The babies stick in my mind the most. All black, All burnt, All looking into eternity with soulless eyes. Some of them were still on fire. I could see the screams still on people’s absent lips. And as I looked into the city of Nagasaki, I saw nothing. No cathedral, no buildings. Just smoke and fire, and nothing. How did everything disappear?
That was the first day. I wandered around for days, and found other survivors like me. Some didn’t last long. Some died quickly. Some got bruises, and very sick, then died. some died of starvation. We ate whatever we found. We only didn’t eat two things. People, because they were always rotten, and cats. They were to fast to catch. We were labeled pika don. We were shunned. A young boy told me some Americans were to come visit us. I made a plan to speak with an American. The young boy was another survivor of my school he was playing soccer, he chased the ball into a ditch, he bent down to pick up the ball, and when he stood up, everything was gone. Later he went to America to run a prison for them. He only returned at the end of his life to die. He took his own life with a sword.
I counted the days to when the Americans would come. Men came around and examined us. The Americans wanted women to bring back to America. They gave these women surgery to make them look ok again. But nothing can restore a hand. The Americans did come. I was there. My face hadn’t healed very well at all. I barely looked human. I walked up and told him very silently, “you killed my dear grandma. You killed all my school friends, and my brother. You made me look like this. I’m not human anymore. I’ve eaten rats. I’ve fought strangers to eat bugs. I want to know this: why? Why did you do this to me?”
The young blonde American soldier blinked at me. He didn’t speak Japanese. He smiled at me, at my ruined life, and offered me a piece of gum as payment for my family’s death.
I did not know what to do next. I could not imagine my life going until I was old. I wandered for days. I came upon a young woman standing on a set if train tracks. She was going to kill herself. But she didn’t. at the end she stepped out of the way, sobbing. I thought to ask her why.
“this is the place my sister killed herself yesterday. I decided I would come today and kill myself too. But I couldn’t. my dear sister had the courage to die. I have only the courage to live.” I took her to where I had been sleeping. We stayed there for some time, and one day I woke up, and she was dead.
I no longer have the courage to live. Tomorrow I will go to the train track.
A man told me when I was a child people are born crying, and when they are done crying, they die. I never knew what he was talking about. I was so young. It was such a short time ago. I might think about it for a while. But an old woman told me life is too short to think too much about.
feel free to skip reading this.
for those interested in plagiarism. feel free to it.
My name is Amaya. I’m afraid my telling you this will do you no good. Hearing history does nothing for preventing it happening again. To learn this we must only look at history. In this we can read of surprises some have had, and prepare for them ourselves.
I have no family now. Even if they'd survived I might not have family. My family was happy once, before the years of fear, before the years of death. I had two older sisters, and a younger brother. My father was called out to war. That was only the beginning of that time, the war took my father, but the end of the war took my family. My father never agreed with the war, he said he knew a general that visited America, and liked them. He went to fight with that general, and died with him and everyone else on Iwo Jima. He was an honorable man. My family had gathered together when he left, to live together in Nagasaki. grandma would talk about her days in this old fishing village. She would speak of our church, and pray to Mary with candles every day. Her smile was always so friendly to me, her face was kind and experienced, the gold tooth seemed to accent her worn out face, and it tried to hide the suffering she had seen in her life. She said she had seen much. She would tell me of her Christian friends, who were not allowed to live here, but these people who were too poor to leave, so they were killed. People she called her childhood friends. People who are now phantoms, phantoms like grandma now is.
"Tell me about your friends gramma," I would beg. I was ten years old, and didn't understand why it pained her to tell these stories. But she always did. "Tell me about hitomi" she first told me that story to warn me against the river. I was very young, and had never learned to swim. I did not know anyone that did. When she finally conceded, she would look to my sisters, to see if they wanted to hear. They always did. We slept in the same bed, my grandma never wanted to tell a story if someone else didn't want to hear it, my sisters loved her stories. Though of suffering, these stories were well told, and we loved to learn of her life.
"If you want to hear it, I will tell you then. Close your eyes, in case you want to sleep. When I was fourteen, my younger sister always wanted to play with us. She would beg us, and we would say yes, only when my mom made us, or when she had her friend hitomi with her. Hitomi was her age, twelve. We loved her because her eyes were always so innocent. Her face always would smile, and she would say to us "if you don't want us to play with you, you are welcome to play with us" and gave such an endearing smile, that we always had to say yes. One of these days we would be playing with her, we raced boats under the bridge in the river. She made the most beautiful boat. She drew all over it. It was the finest boat I had ever seen, she was proud of it, and her wonderful eyes shone when she first showed it to us. We went to the bridge, and raced these boats, from one side to the other." At this time she would pause, and examine us. Now I wonder if she was crying in herself, as she gazed at her granddaughters. When she was satisfied we were still awake, or when she was finished gathering what it took to finish, she started again, this time slower looking off, as if she were watching herself play with these boats again. "We would gather these boats up at the dock, because they would float right under it if we were lucky. And the first to retrieve the boat was the winner. Hitomi’s proud boat sailed beyond her reach, she tried, oh how she tried to grab it. She of course fell in, her beautiful eyes panicked as we shouted instructions to her. Who knows what she heard? No one could help her, because we didn't swim. She surfaced a number of times as we followed her down the river, shouting for help. And at the next dock, when we pulled her out, her beautiful eyes no longer shone" I always missed this ending. I would fall asleep, Grandma would sit in the dark for a while, remembering those years she lived. Soon, because life is too fast to think about, she would go to bed herself. She would cry, because an old woman who doesn’t cry has been foolish, and gets un deserved credit for living We were in school when it happened. When I lost my family it was almost noon. Maybe an hour before the siren had gone off earlier this day, but now we were in line outside. "Here comes a plane" I heard a classmate say. I looked up to see the plane and saw only white. I had begun to wonder why I didn't see blue, as I gazed there into the white, it began to be replaced by objects. A flaming tree, smoke, and I realized I was no longer standing in line. I realized I was on the ground, looking up into a tree. I had been thrown. How far? I don't know. I do not know why the realization was so slow to me, but I hadn't occurred to me for what seemed like minutes, that the Americans had dropped a bomb on us. I began to go for home. Everything was so hot. I remember that the most. The heat. My face, my body was all so hot. Every building I saw was on fire. A ten year old girl I was frightened. As I went I heard screaming in a house that was on fire. It was a boy and his mother. The boy was screaming to his mom "it's hot mamma, it's hot, and why is it so hot in here?" He just kept screaming. The mother was crying. She screamed for her son, trying to reassure him. He was lucky to have heard his mom's voice before he died. Even though it was gasping sobs, I remember she was screaming "I will die with you son. You will not die alone, but with your mother. Keep brave son, I love you, I will die with you." at the same time a neighbor man I think was pulling her from the fire. The man had no shirt on; his back was red and looked like meat. I didn't have the courage to help, I only had the courage to go home. I wanted my own mom.
It wasn't my mom I ran into on the way home, but my sister. I could not recognize her, her face was black. She looked at me with horror, and begged for water. I didn't have water of course. So we walked together. I don’t' know how much time passed. It started to rain. We held our tongues out to catch it, but we couldn't catch enough. It was big rain; it hurt to be hit by it. It was then I realized my face must be so burnt. My body must be too. I started to look at myself. My clothes were rags. Skin was hanging off me everywhere. It was so hot. We were so thirsty. Walking we came upon a big bin full of water. They used it to put out fires when they would break out in the city. People were stuffing themselves in it, and there was no room for us. I thought of hitomi as we walked towards the river, towards the center of the blast.
My sister died at the river. We tried to get to the other side. The bridge was not there anymore. I used someone’s body as a raft. My sister did too. That was the last time I ever saw her. Floating across that river felt good. I put my face in there, and drank a little. The coolness on my face felt the best, I didn't even care that people were dead in there. I took some water with me, the air was so stifling. Everyone was calling for water. They would scream for it. This is how I killed three people, by giving them water. They would beg I would give them the can I had full of water, they would take long draws of water, then hold their stomachs, and cry in pain as they died. I didn’t know any better, and after the third one I started to call it the can of death, and threw it from me. I was very scared that I would die from it too.
I reached where my home was before this blast. Its fire was almost out; the whole thing was on the ground. I looked for my grandma. I looked through the bodies lying everywhere. It was hard to recognize anyone. None of them had any eyes; some had no head at all. I found one with a gold tooth. This was my grandma. What does a ten year old girl do? She held a smaller male with her. That must have been my brother. How I loved them dearly. Looking for a place to sit, I crossed many bodies. The babies stick in my mind the most. All black, All burnt, All looking into eternity with soulless eyes. Some of them were still on fire. I could see the screams still on people’s absent lips. And as I looked into the city of Nagasaki, I saw nothing. No cathedral, no buildings. Just smoke and fire, and nothing. How did everything disappear?
That was the first day. I wandered around for days, and found other survivors like me. Some didn’t last long. Some died quickly. Some got bruises, and very sick, then died. some died of starvation. We ate whatever we found. We only didn’t eat two things. People, because they were always rotten, and cats. They were to fast to catch. We were labeled pika don. We were shunned. A young boy told me some Americans were to come visit us. I made a plan to speak with an American. The young boy was another survivor of my school he was playing soccer, he chased the ball into a ditch, he bent down to pick up the ball, and when he stood up, everything was gone. Later he went to America to run a prison for them. He only returned at the end of his life to die. He took his own life with a sword.
I counted the days to when the Americans would come. Men came around and examined us. The Americans wanted women to bring back to America. They gave these women surgery to make them look ok again. But nothing can restore a hand. The Americans did come. I was there. My face hadn’t healed very well at all. I barely looked human. I walked up and told him very silently, “you killed my dear grandma. You killed all my school friends, and my brother. You made me look like this. I’m not human anymore. I’ve eaten rats. I’ve fought strangers to eat bugs. I want to know this: why? Why did you do this to me?”
The young blonde American soldier blinked at me. He didn’t speak Japanese. He smiled at me, at my ruined life, and offered me a piece of gum as payment for my family’s death.
I did not know what to do next. I could not imagine my life going until I was old. I wandered for days. I came upon a young woman standing on a set if train tracks. She was going to kill herself. But she didn’t. at the end she stepped out of the way, sobbing. I thought to ask her why.
“this is the place my sister killed herself yesterday. I decided I would come today and kill myself too. But I couldn’t. my dear sister had the courage to die. I have only the courage to live.” I took her to where I had been sleeping. We stayed there for some time, and one day I woke up, and she was dead.
I no longer have the courage to live. Tomorrow I will go to the train track.
A man told me when I was a child people are born crying, and when they are done crying, they die. I never knew what he was talking about. I was so young. It was such a short time ago. I might think about it for a while. But an old woman told me life is too short to think too much about.
Friday, August 29, 2008
the blog of boredom. yours not mine
well, this particular blog may be loaded with boredom. i will forgive the reader his disinterest.
first the hunt. no. first i suppose i'll start with my sisters wedding.
we went to california for my sisters wedding. i walked her down the isle in my blues. (my dress blues, not mood wise) it was a pretty and charming wedding. a man insulted me, and didn't know it. he saw me loading lila into the car, her in her dress, and me in my uniform. lila was in, and he said to me "congratulations!" i don 't marry my sister retard.
that's a joke. it really happened. but of course, how could a person be insulted from good intention?
actually, it happens a lot. the path to hell is paved with good intentions. i guess.
we stayed in a little hotel on the boarder of mexico. it was a charming little place.
Liz gave a toast, as she was lila's maid of honor. it want' a bad toast. we went to coronado beach. it had a lot of sea weed. it was fun, and i spent the entire day trying to body surf. apparently i don't get bored because of something so simple as repetition.
my cousin colter lives out there, we spent some time with him and his wife. it was fun. he had surf boards, so we tried to surf. as soon as he was out there, and i was out there. i lost him. i knew not where he went. so i tried alone. then let lila, she did it wonderfully. then others. Gid and Josh came eventually.... josh being my cousin. i wish they would've come earlier. i always feel bad like i'm leaving someone out.
Colter and his wife also gave us tickets to the padres v phillies game. it was good. they were good seats. the padre's won. i rather like watching baseball when it's not on tv. sometimes during baseball season, sarah and i will stop at a field around wellsville, and watch the kids play. only if we have nothing else really to do anyway.
when we came back, i was anxious to hunt. it's elk season now if you're an archer. i hiked for two straight days. all over creation, and saw nothing. nothing elk wise anyway. i saw a lot of deer, and a moose with a baby.
last year i was chased by a moose. it turns out that may have inspired a phobia within me. when i saw this moose (both times i saw it) my heart came nearly out of my mouth. i knocked an arrow, and backed away from it. it ran the other way. but when i was backing away, i stumbled on a bedded down deer doe. it jumped up and ran. i decided i wanted to leave. it's a good thing too, by the time i got to the parking lot i was terrified, and it was dark. actually, i was terrified because it was dark long before i got to the parking lot, and i couldn't find my light. that's not all, i think maybe a mountain lion had his eyes on me, because something followed me all the way back to the parking lot. all the way i would hear rustling, so i would stop. it would stop. i would see even where it was rustling, but i saw no animal. i would stand there for ten minutes deciding whether or not to shoot an arrow into the bush. then i would be scared i was wasting light, and walk quickly. i went on the wrong path, and had to back track. it followed. when i got to the parking lot, i waited for 45 minutes for my ride. in the dark. dogs howled, and whatever followed me back lost interest as i watched "home movies" episodes on my zune. they made me more scared because i couldn't hear if something was closing in on me or not. but i watched thinking to myself that if somthing was going to kill me, or sneak up on me. it would be sarah's fault for not meeting me at dark in the parking lot.
of course, what if she crashed on the way up here, and is dead? i'll wait till at least morning!
at last she came.
three days later we found elk. it was the weekend. we were hiking a familiar old trail, when a moo cow, black, bolted out of a bush. the same bush a moose began chasing me from. i looked quite the fool when i ran twenty feet before i realized i wasn't dying.
for three or four years, i have had a half built shed (shoddily done anyway) in my back yard. everyone knows about this yes, no?
well, my mom's friend choco sold us 8 roosters for about three dollars a piece.
instead of just killing all of them, we killed two, and put the rest into this shed, which we made into a ghetto chicken coop. today they got out. sarah put them back in, and one got out.
this is sad.
she tied it's feet so he wouldn't get out until i came home, and could mend the shed. chickens, or more specifically, roosters, will peck at something which is vulnerable like that. when i came out to see it it had been bloodied. i untied it's feet, and mended the offending wall of wire. as it got up, the other chickens pecked at it unmercifully. one specifically. the alpha. the one that crows in the morning. the biggest one there is, pecked at it until it was back in it's corner, less vulnerable. it got back up, and was again attacked. it thrust its self against the chicken wire, trying desperately to escape. all the while being pecked at, and attacked. eventually, it lost its will, and just lay down. the bigger rooster pecked at it a little more. it groaned it's relief when the pecking stopped. this time it stayed down. it wouldn't get up no matter how much i poked at it.
so i took it out of the cage. i suppose nothing deserves what that rooster went through. i felt it an especial shame that the best i could do for it was eat it. so i prepared it to be feathered. and lay it's body on the steps.
i went inside with the bloody knife, and sarah knew what i'd done. i recounted the tail to her, and we both thought it proper, and just, that we eat the offender too. and so we're down to four live roosters.
does, or should justice like this extend to roosters? should one feel pity on them? the real shame is that one was harvested for no reason other than it was a victim.
now, don't get me wrong. we'll eat all of them. i'm just saying, the specific circumstance was sad. sarah felt very exeedingly bad. i suppose she'll never tie another chicken down. next time i guess i'll just have to chase it around the yard.
monday is founders day.
labor day i guess to most of you. but for wellsville, it's founders day.
my dad used to organize the sham battle. year after year we would hear the curses of his frustration, and build a small house to burn in the field of wellsville elementary. we would show up early, all of us freezing in the morning, and tired, awakened by the cannon. freezing because we didn't want to bring a coat, which we would later have to take off and hold. the year my dad died i wandered down that way, to the sham battle, it's only a block away now. it opened on a speaker. it's all different now. like everything is now. it's educational, we used to just know the history, if one wanted to know about a tradition, he took the time to learn about it. now they replay it on a loud speaker. the "indians" arent' drunk anymore, and neither are the settlers. fighting is at an all time low. i dont' even think an ambulance came last year. but that year it was on a loud speaker, before it began they dedicated it to my dad. i like that.
also, i've come to realize a pet peeve of mine. while reading a book i discovered it.
when someone dies, and the other people say "he would've wanted it that way" or "he would like that" or someone say's something like "lets invite so and so" (that last example was from "bridge to terribithia" ok, so she died. that's ok. and some of the things that happen after that are ok too. but.... why. why did he have to tell that teacher next time they'll inviter her? she's dead. he doesn't know what that means? dead guy, don't invite her anywhere!
first the hunt. no. first i suppose i'll start with my sisters wedding.
we went to california for my sisters wedding. i walked her down the isle in my blues. (my dress blues, not mood wise) it was a pretty and charming wedding. a man insulted me, and didn't know it. he saw me loading lila into the car, her in her dress, and me in my uniform. lila was in, and he said to me "congratulations!" i don 't marry my sister retard.
that's a joke. it really happened. but of course, how could a person be insulted from good intention?
actually, it happens a lot. the path to hell is paved with good intentions. i guess.
we stayed in a little hotel on the boarder of mexico. it was a charming little place.
Liz gave a toast, as she was lila's maid of honor. it want' a bad toast. we went to coronado beach. it had a lot of sea weed. it was fun, and i spent the entire day trying to body surf. apparently i don't get bored because of something so simple as repetition.
my cousin colter lives out there, we spent some time with him and his wife. it was fun. he had surf boards, so we tried to surf. as soon as he was out there, and i was out there. i lost him. i knew not where he went. so i tried alone. then let lila, she did it wonderfully. then others. Gid and Josh came eventually.... josh being my cousin. i wish they would've come earlier. i always feel bad like i'm leaving someone out.
Colter and his wife also gave us tickets to the padres v phillies game. it was good. they were good seats. the padre's won. i rather like watching baseball when it's not on tv. sometimes during baseball season, sarah and i will stop at a field around wellsville, and watch the kids play. only if we have nothing else really to do anyway.
when we came back, i was anxious to hunt. it's elk season now if you're an archer. i hiked for two straight days. all over creation, and saw nothing. nothing elk wise anyway. i saw a lot of deer, and a moose with a baby.
last year i was chased by a moose. it turns out that may have inspired a phobia within me. when i saw this moose (both times i saw it) my heart came nearly out of my mouth. i knocked an arrow, and backed away from it. it ran the other way. but when i was backing away, i stumbled on a bedded down deer doe. it jumped up and ran. i decided i wanted to leave. it's a good thing too, by the time i got to the parking lot i was terrified, and it was dark. actually, i was terrified because it was dark long before i got to the parking lot, and i couldn't find my light. that's not all, i think maybe a mountain lion had his eyes on me, because something followed me all the way back to the parking lot. all the way i would hear rustling, so i would stop. it would stop. i would see even where it was rustling, but i saw no animal. i would stand there for ten minutes deciding whether or not to shoot an arrow into the bush. then i would be scared i was wasting light, and walk quickly. i went on the wrong path, and had to back track. it followed. when i got to the parking lot, i waited for 45 minutes for my ride. in the dark. dogs howled, and whatever followed me back lost interest as i watched "home movies" episodes on my zune. they made me more scared because i couldn't hear if something was closing in on me or not. but i watched thinking to myself that if somthing was going to kill me, or sneak up on me. it would be sarah's fault for not meeting me at dark in the parking lot.
of course, what if she crashed on the way up here, and is dead? i'll wait till at least morning!
at last she came.
three days later we found elk. it was the weekend. we were hiking a familiar old trail, when a moo cow, black, bolted out of a bush. the same bush a moose began chasing me from. i looked quite the fool when i ran twenty feet before i realized i wasn't dying.
for three or four years, i have had a half built shed (shoddily done anyway) in my back yard. everyone knows about this yes, no?
well, my mom's friend choco sold us 8 roosters for about three dollars a piece.
instead of just killing all of them, we killed two, and put the rest into this shed, which we made into a ghetto chicken coop. today they got out. sarah put them back in, and one got out.
this is sad.
she tied it's feet so he wouldn't get out until i came home, and could mend the shed. chickens, or more specifically, roosters, will peck at something which is vulnerable like that. when i came out to see it it had been bloodied. i untied it's feet, and mended the offending wall of wire. as it got up, the other chickens pecked at it unmercifully. one specifically. the alpha. the one that crows in the morning. the biggest one there is, pecked at it until it was back in it's corner, less vulnerable. it got back up, and was again attacked. it thrust its self against the chicken wire, trying desperately to escape. all the while being pecked at, and attacked. eventually, it lost its will, and just lay down. the bigger rooster pecked at it a little more. it groaned it's relief when the pecking stopped. this time it stayed down. it wouldn't get up no matter how much i poked at it.
so i took it out of the cage. i suppose nothing deserves what that rooster went through. i felt it an especial shame that the best i could do for it was eat it. so i prepared it to be feathered. and lay it's body on the steps.
i went inside with the bloody knife, and sarah knew what i'd done. i recounted the tail to her, and we both thought it proper, and just, that we eat the offender too. and so we're down to four live roosters.
does, or should justice like this extend to roosters? should one feel pity on them? the real shame is that one was harvested for no reason other than it was a victim.
now, don't get me wrong. we'll eat all of them. i'm just saying, the specific circumstance was sad. sarah felt very exeedingly bad. i suppose she'll never tie another chicken down. next time i guess i'll just have to chase it around the yard.
monday is founders day.
labor day i guess to most of you. but for wellsville, it's founders day.
my dad used to organize the sham battle. year after year we would hear the curses of his frustration, and build a small house to burn in the field of wellsville elementary. we would show up early, all of us freezing in the morning, and tired, awakened by the cannon. freezing because we didn't want to bring a coat, which we would later have to take off and hold. the year my dad died i wandered down that way, to the sham battle, it's only a block away now. it opened on a speaker. it's all different now. like everything is now. it's educational, we used to just know the history, if one wanted to know about a tradition, he took the time to learn about it. now they replay it on a loud speaker. the "indians" arent' drunk anymore, and neither are the settlers. fighting is at an all time low. i dont' even think an ambulance came last year. but that year it was on a loud speaker, before it began they dedicated it to my dad. i like that.
also, i've come to realize a pet peeve of mine. while reading a book i discovered it.
when someone dies, and the other people say "he would've wanted it that way" or "he would like that" or someone say's something like "lets invite so and so" (that last example was from "bridge to terribithia" ok, so she died. that's ok. and some of the things that happen after that are ok too. but.... why. why did he have to tell that teacher next time they'll inviter her? she's dead. he doesn't know what that means? dead guy, don't invite her anywhere!
Sunday, August 3, 2008
i suppose there is only some new things since the last one.
first the donkey hoof. since that was the last post.
i got them trimmed. they look nice now. he fought it a little, so we had to drug him. after that he cooperated fully, until the drugs were a little too much for him, and he went down. it was no problem really, just waiting for him to get back up after the horseshoer left.
i found out how to get my water rights. and i used them. you know when you water your lawn, and you see bubbles from the water soaking into the ground? imagine your entire lawn bubbling for three hours under two inches of water.
not just that, but also all the pine cones and all the pine needles all grouped together, and was easy to rake them out. so now my lawn isn't being ruined, more than not being ruined... it's very green, and grows quickly. which brings me to two sub subjects.
1. my donkey. he ate the whole thing down again, and i had to move him to a field with the rest of the family's horses. a white horse took a liking to him, and so he's not being picked on at all. they've bonded. i can't even approach the donkey because that horse keeps himself wedged between us all the time.
this also means, he's not getting picked on from the other horses.
2. i cut down a tree. i cut it down, and it crushed my neighbors fence.
he didn't mind though. it was fixed the next day for 0 dollars.
we went to a wedding. the mckeeth wedding in las vegas. we lost all we gambled. and stayed in a very nice place. my friend Trent came with us. a good time was had by all. the wedding was a good one.
we had a family reunion yesterday, well, this weekend at crystal hot springs in honeyville ut.
most of the family camped there, but not me and sarah. it was good to talk to uncles i otherwise don't talk to really. and see cousins i haven't seen for 8 years. it was good to b.s. and harass, and be harassed.
crystal hot springs has the best slide i've ever been on. first i thought it was fun because of the wild turns that left a person disoriented and half drowned. they have pads to go down the slide with. later i found a way to go at such a speed, that instead of just dropping into the water after exiting, i shot all the way to the end, and was stopped by the stairs.
so i got a job too. by the way. i've broken into the electrician business kind of. i don't have a license yet, but i've been helping with the low voltage stuff in the Marriot hotel in logan. that little four story thing by the old maceys.
Sunday, July 6, 2008
an awful happening
well, so i'm walking my donkey from my grandma's to my house the other day, and sometime along the way his hoof chipped in an awful way.
this could be for a number of reasons apparently, but unfortunately they all point to negligence on my part. or actually in this case ignorance.
i did know his hoofs needed trimming, but i just plain feel bad. tommorow i will call for an appointment, this apparently can make him lame.
for shame josiah, for shame.
also, i've been asked over the years whether i should like to be called Joe or Josiah. well, i think i've finally realized what it is!
in a formal or official setting, it's josiah. i hate when i transfer to a ward, and the roll call i sign calls me Joe. this is church, calling me a name. that's josiah. of course, josiah can be applied at any time, by any family or friend, as can Joe, Jos, etc etc etc.... but not by something official!
this could be for a number of reasons apparently, but unfortunately they all point to negligence on my part. or actually in this case ignorance.
i did know his hoofs needed trimming, but i just plain feel bad. tommorow i will call for an appointment, this apparently can make him lame.
for shame josiah, for shame.
also, i've been asked over the years whether i should like to be called Joe or Josiah. well, i think i've finally realized what it is!
in a formal or official setting, it's josiah. i hate when i transfer to a ward, and the roll call i sign calls me Joe. this is church, calling me a name. that's josiah. of course, josiah can be applied at any time, by any family or friend, as can Joe, Jos, etc etc etc.... but not by something official!
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
here's me sporting birth control glasses. marine corps issue glasses, same kind as drew carey. i just found these, i don't actually need glasses
ahhh, naked people... sorry to offend.
well, here's a long one maybe... maybe not though.
as usual, the pictures will be at the top...
first, i went to the last marine corps reserve drill i will ever be required to go to. though, i may stay on recruiters assistance for a couple months here in logan.
we went to 29 palms. the first day we went out i was on road guard duty with our tank. it was very loose sand, and in this type of sand, people throw track sometimes, if their driver is inexperienced.
i had an inexperienced driver. we threw track. so there in 105 degree blistering heat, and with a swarm of bee's (of which i'm deathly allergic) hovering around us, trying to drink our sweat, we broke track, and re attached it. a very arduous process which took all day. and since it's the marine corps, the higher ups were pissed. it didn't affect them in any way, but apparently it was bad any way? ridiculous.
later, we drove over a large amount of concertina wire. this ruins your final drives. makes them leak. so we spent five hours taking it out, instead of sleeping. hard work can ruin any night.
these were just two highlights of the excursion, of course any two weeks in the desert with no showers, and no trips to anywhere to buy anything, and nothing but mre's and a wierd disgusting hot chow that somehow all tastes the same but worse, is going to be a bad two weeks. very miserable.
here's my favorite part about the whole thing though.
the attitude of co-workers at a civilian job. these two weeks were pretty much like war, we ever shot some main gun, etc etc etc. really, the whole thing is very very similar. pretty much we came back from two weeks of non dangerous war. and a boss has the inclination (i almost guarantee it was said to everyone, as it's been said to me countless times) "so, how was your vacation? i hope you enjoyed it while we were stuck here working".
jerks
after that i went back to california for seths being sealed and blessed. a very happy occasion for some, but liz and i both couldn't shake the feeling we were supposed to be happy that our son was sealed away from us for eternity. who began as Seth David Maughan, named after his Great grandpa, and also his grandpa on his other side, my first son, my only link to happiness of the past is now seth david carlson. blessed signed and sealed. now named after some guy's grandpa. and some lady's dad, but not the name, nor in the family i'm most proud of. (oh, hey polly...)
we skipped the rest of church to go to ghiradelli sqare in san francisco. we took bart there, and walked the rest.
we accidently went to the gay pride parade. naked people everywhere. my wife saw her first black... well, i'll actually not finish that. we walked through china town, and finally to the square. the walk made all that chocolate ice cream delicious, and made the bus ride back better. we saw all sorts of flamers, trans sexuals, and straight naked people (i assume) even the cop i asked for directions was a flamer.
i brought my donkey back to my house, as anticipated, he began eating baby tree's. well, not really, only one. i have them all protected with tomato cones, but he found his way through one of them. it's my hopes my yard is too forest like for him to really see them. some died, though i don't think it's a permanent death. and as long as one lived, it's all i really need as they are very simple to propogate.
Friday, May 30, 2008
a post of pictures
i'll go in order of events here.so we visited texas. on the way there we stopped in at the billie the kid museum, where charlie was arrested. this is him in jail.
the amazing thing about this museum has always been the calf with three two bodies. it's been there for years. one head two bodies. there is no way to get a good picture of it. like those giant tree's.... how do you show how magnificent they are?
also, we found out he doesn't really like that lion. here's him in an argument with him.
he was very bored sitting int the same position facing away from everyone for those twenty hours. poor kid. he did really well though. he was a good sport. it was the way back that he didn't really like.
next we went to the lake. lake nasworthy. that is in san angelo. if that name sounds familiar, it should, it's the same place they took those flds kids. well, so we swam. i didn't mean to get shorts that were the same color as my skin, but here they are. i'll add a bunch of small pictures for this. actually, i won't do anything in order, i'll post pictures and explain them. this one, the one that i'm fat in, is just me pretending to be a fish. or a whale.everyone has one aunt i'm sure, that pinches your cheeks. this was that aunt. aunt lucy. really, she's my mom's aunt.
we're at the lake here. there's a family guy episode, where he's going to tell a racist joke, so before, he looks everywhere. he looks around corners, etc etc etc. and when it comes time for the punchline, a black guy pops out of the potted plant and asks whats up. the joke is then changed to teach black ideals. right here in the picture, i'm telling a black joke, and one car away is the biggest black man i've ever seen.
the moral of the story? don't. don't tell black jokes, unless you're in utah.
here's gideon and mayra. on my grandma's porch
so me and my cousins daughter alura got into an argument. for a long time we repeated ourselves before it got physical. and she has a twin sister named seven that backs her up. so what'd i have to do? after this offending punch, things got a little out of hand
this is me body slamming seven. i guess she'll think twice before sticking up for her very argumentative sister....
awww, an adorable little girl annemarie. my cousins daughter. my cousin is very pretty too. who is named belen, which i think means bethlehem. a very beautiful name... though i think it's just a middle name.. .i don't really know, but i think her first name is norma.
and my uncle fred. always the nicest guy i've known, i've never known this man to be angry. i accidently got him a diet pepsi, instead of a regular... and he said...."diet" like he was dissappointed. where i would've been angry. i know that's not really a good example, but... i guess i don't have one.
i hope he restores those vehicles he's been wanting too.
we went back to lake nasworthy the next day. this time near a water fall. we put charlie in the water (the temperature was 100 that day.... so we let him try it out) he was scared with the current, and cold of course. but it wasn't long, and i think in the end, he kind of enjoyed it.
my uncle fred again. with his third son josh and his three kids. seven, allura, and rannin. i'm not sure if i spelled any of those right. it's good to see that man smiling. i can't imagine how happy he was then, seeing his children and grandchildren. it's not that common.
am i in a movie here? no. lake nasworthy. yes. i am that white.
this is interesting, we were trying to make gideon look like he was walking on water. no, if you zoom in, or look closely, you can see that he's actually drowning someone.
we went to a wedding too. this is me cleaned up.
my cousins. so here's my family on that side. my uncle fred's biological children include scott, josh, brian, erica, and beaudilio. the children from umparo is named, belen, mayra, and mario.
this is belen mayra, and erica. erica has always reminded us of two people. my mom, and my sister.
this is my abuelita. i love seeing her with my son. he threw up all over her though. very cute old lady. and amazing. so there's something i want you to see. so go down to the house pictures.
umparo and rannin
so like i said i was a little hot in texas. so i enjoyed an otter pop, and my son enjoyed a bottle.
this is unrelated, but i lived with a man once. that's not the story though. we were sitting around asking eachother what we wanted to be when we "grew up" when we were children. some people say cop, fireman, dancer etc etc etc. this man wanted to be the ceo of otter pop. he even wrote them to apply for a job in fifth grade.....
dream on drew. dream on.
here's where i want you to see how amazing my grandma is. every window in this house has been updated by her. those cabinets you see she carried in herself. none of the walls had drywall on them. she put drywall up all over the house including the ceiling, painted it, and installed all these things. her parents built this house. her mom died here. it's a very small crooked house, with no foundation. she also dug under it, and lifted parts of it with a jack, and threw bricks underneath to keep it steady.
this is the back of the house.
seven. pretty picture of her.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
grandparents and a smile
sarah's grandparents are old. they have old habits, they're just... old. they move every year (though i think this is their last probably) from quartzsite arizona, to wyoming. every year they stop through.
they are the greatest people i've ever met.
well, this time, they stopped by sarah's dads house, and he wasn't home yet. after waiting, they decided to come try to find my house. so they drove the streets of wellsville, until they decided they were just plain lost. every bit they drove, got less familiar. so they stopped to ask a man in a tractor for help. grandpa didn't want to, but he was forced. of course he thought it was a stupid question "do you know where josiah maughan lives?" this town must be bigger than that! but he asked anyway. the response?
"of course i do, that's my cousin. i'm going that way now, just follow me"
this lady is hard to get a good picture of. she doesn't like pictures of her. so if she knows one is being taken, she glares and turns away. this time i took a random picture of sarah's dad, which he reacted to. she thought it was funny, and i caught her in the best picture taken of her there is.
she was pissed.
well, like i said, they're old. this man cannot see anymore really. he used to love to read. he worked with his hands as much as he could. little mechanic works.one time we were looking through a photo album, and he started to explain a picture of amy, where it was, why he took it etc. but it wasn't of amy, it was a cactus. with his failing eyesight, his whole lifestyle is going away.that's how old people are i guess. well, so sarah's dad insisted that he take his father for a motorcycle ride. the last one of his life probably. it was tough to get him to agree, and it was tough to get him on the bike, but there it is, sarah's dad and grandpa on this bike.
well, it's easier to get a good picture of this man. sarah say's it's wierd to see him with our baby. because he is so proud of him. he'd never say it, well, he might, but he doesn' have to. the look on his face say's it all.
heres' a couple of charlie. one i didn't know was focused on something else, and not him. bad guess camera. and also, bad knowing how to change that, joe.
he is of course the cutest when he sleeps. well, maybe not. but he definately is a very cute kid while he's sleeping.
he's starting to smile more and more. he smiles on demand now. and that's what this picture is, the best caught smile there is. he's like his great grandma. as soon as there is a camera around, here come the glares. but these three pictures are exceptions i guess.
quick update. i traded that truck for a blazer. remember? well, i've been having a hard time getting the motivation, money, and help to fix it up, so i've probably traded it for a truck which already runs, a little ford f250. i like this for several reasons.
1. no top to put on and take off.
2. it's actually a truck
3. it's a ford. i'm a ford man. the blazer is of course, a chevy.
they are the greatest people i've ever met.
well, this time, they stopped by sarah's dads house, and he wasn't home yet. after waiting, they decided to come try to find my house. so they drove the streets of wellsville, until they decided they were just plain lost. every bit they drove, got less familiar. so they stopped to ask a man in a tractor for help. grandpa didn't want to, but he was forced. of course he thought it was a stupid question "do you know where josiah maughan lives?" this town must be bigger than that! but he asked anyway. the response?
"of course i do, that's my cousin. i'm going that way now, just follow me"
this lady is hard to get a good picture of. she doesn't like pictures of her. so if she knows one is being taken, she glares and turns away. this time i took a random picture of sarah's dad, which he reacted to. she thought it was funny, and i caught her in the best picture taken of her there is.
she was pissed.
well, like i said, they're old. this man cannot see anymore really. he used to love to read. he worked with his hands as much as he could. little mechanic works.one time we were looking through a photo album, and he started to explain a picture of amy, where it was, why he took it etc. but it wasn't of amy, it was a cactus. with his failing eyesight, his whole lifestyle is going away.that's how old people are i guess. well, so sarah's dad insisted that he take his father for a motorcycle ride. the last one of his life probably. it was tough to get him to agree, and it was tough to get him on the bike, but there it is, sarah's dad and grandpa on this bike.
well, it's easier to get a good picture of this man. sarah say's it's wierd to see him with our baby. because he is so proud of him. he'd never say it, well, he might, but he doesn' have to. the look on his face say's it all.
heres' a couple of charlie. one i didn't know was focused on something else, and not him. bad guess camera. and also, bad knowing how to change that, joe.
he is of course the cutest when he sleeps. well, maybe not. but he definately is a very cute kid while he's sleeping.
he's starting to smile more and more. he smiles on demand now. and that's what this picture is, the best caught smile there is. he's like his great grandma. as soon as there is a camera around, here come the glares. but these three pictures are exceptions i guess.
quick update. i traded that truck for a blazer. remember? well, i've been having a hard time getting the motivation, money, and help to fix it up, so i've probably traded it for a truck which already runs, a little ford f250. i like this for several reasons.
1. no top to put on and take off.
2. it's actually a truck
3. it's a ford. i'm a ford man. the blazer is of course, a chevy.
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