One day in Gruberville, up in the tree house in Jarred Crows back yard. Stephen Meyers and Jarred finish their lunch of fried bologna sandwiches and lemon-aide and take to the tree house for a rematch of checkers. While playing they could be over heard saying:
If in the morning you find that your left eye has
crusted over and your right ear is twitching morse
code, do you jump out of bed and kick the hampster
cage, or just go back to dreaming that you were an
international spy collecting bowling balls for a giant
marble game?
Quotable Quotes:
"In the battle we call life, we must always remember
our knickerbockers and crackerjacks." Henry Ford.
"Flight only comes when you are bucked off the
mountain by a mountian goat." Mother Theresa.
"In as much as God limited the intellegence of man, it
seems unfair He did not also limit mans stupidity."
Talk to your toes, they'll appreciate you more.
Gecko stew anyone? Lonely gecko sheperd pie? "Hey Grandpa,
whats fer supper?" (grandpa)--> "Black eyed bean-dip deep fried
crusties, smothered in stewed tail of gecko, with a side
of spider smashin's. And fer dee-sert, chocolate
covered frozen frog fritters." MMMMMM Mmmmmm!
Oh beautiful, for spacious skys, for amber waves of
grain. For purple mountain majesty, above the fruit
of the loom. America, America God shed His grace on
thee, and crown that cat with a baseball bat, and throw
it in the sea.
Can there ever be enough marshmallow in the world? I
mean that if Lucky Charms were to go marsh-less would
there be mass hysteria around the globe? Can you
promise that the milkmen of the earth wouldn't go into
some sort of psychosis for the lack of mellows in the
cereal? Can you think of the horror filled faces of
the children when Count-Chocula, Franken-Berry, and
Boo-Berry are reduced to mere cat food looking morsels sponsored by
cartoon characters because they are without the Mallow-o-Marsh? Oh the
humanity. Can't we all just get along? Why must you
make such threats to the American people and the
world? What did we ever do to you? You marshmallow
snatching aliens from H-E-double toothpicks. Go back
to your planet and plot against your own three eyed, two
tongued, one eared children and leave ours alone. (the roar of
the crowd drowns out the sound of the spaceship
leaving for Plupitor)
Don't go a pondering what-cha don't understanding the first time.
Reporting live from the back yard: I'm Henry the Dog
About Ray
- Ray
- North East Ohio, United States
- Good or bad, I encourage everyone to post comments (constructive critics prefered) about what ever you may read below. I'm no great writer, but I have fun with it. Hope you enjoy. Editors NOTE: For the record...I have included some poems that I wrote while being in sad/dark places. Writting down those feelinigs and thoughts would help get perspective on being sad. So I included them just to say, if you have ever felt this way, you are not alone. Write your own feelings down. Read over them and maybe share them with someone you love/who loves you. Don't let it bottle up.
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Scooby Doo goes Boom.
Have you ever wondered how much weight a bottle rocket can carry up into the sky? Or maybe, how many bottle rockets it takes to lift a 6 oz. frog off the ground? Or maybe a tattered up Barbie doll, with one leg, half her hair missing, and only duct tape for clothing? Have you ever wondered what a cherry bomb might do when strapped to the same Barbie, or when placed carefully in a Peanut Butter & Jelly sandwich? (Personal note: To us dogs, that is just a waste of good food.) What about a cherry bomb on top of the PB&J sandwich covered by a cow bell? That one hurt my ears. Anyway Stephen and Jarred wondered, and they invited Stephen's, little brother James to come see the results of such experiments. After all, more than half of the bottle rockets belonged to James. Fortunately for the cats in Gruberville, the boys didn't think to bring one back to the pond. No, they wouldn't have hurt the cat. But they probably would have tied a 2 foot string to its tail and attached a few sparklers to the other end. However, they found a road wounded GI JOE Action Figure on the way, and after he was forced to accept a kiss from his evil arch nemesis The Benevolently Boring Barbie, his NASA testing followed hers. They almost looked like a happy couple. Gruesomely war torn, but still almost happy.
Stephen had found a bag of left over fireworks stashed in the trunk of his brother Paul's car. Paul had to have forgotten that they were there. Otherwise he would have charged the boys a storage fee. Not much mind you, but enough for weekend gas money. Paul's girlfriend was going out of town with her mom for the weekend to her Great Aunts place in Phoenix. So Paul was going to be dateless this Saturday night. And if opportunity had knocked, yes he would have embezzled from his little brothers because now he would need the cash to run his friends around from town to town this Saturday night. Also the boys were lucky to have gotten to the bag before any of Paul's friends did. If Nick Slater or Johnny Prauttin (aka Johnny Rotten) were to have found the bag, there would have been one large wasteful barrage of cherry bomb explosions coming from some ones garbage-can somewhere in town. Nick, Johnny and Paul were best buds on the football team. However, what talent they had on a football field they seemed to lack most everywhere else. And to quote not only the younger guys who hung around them from time to time, but also some of their ex-girlfriends "NO IMAGINATION". And that would have been an expensive and thoughtless waste of good, fun, explosives.
So with a small section of copper piping planted firmly in the ground, a small yet sturdy piece of dowel rod resting in the pipe, Barbie strapped to the top of the dowel, and two more bottle rockets added to the previously failed attempt at launching her into space, Jarred lit the match. "RUN!" Stephen shouted. Ten bottle rockets in all, and Barbie was headed toward heaven. She got a wobbly start, but sky rocketed to a new world record of about 25 feet. The crowd cheered. Though merely consisting of Stephen, Jarred, James, and Fast Freddie who was already back at the pond catching frogs, they cheered none-the-less. Barbie was no worse for the wear. G.I.Joe on the other hand, lost a foot in the brier patch, his make shift tin foil helmet, and tooth pick rifle were now floating in the lake, and his new dropped match inspired bald spot was sporting the extra Band-Aid James had stashed in his back pocket.
Fortunately for the frogs, by the time the boys got to figuring out what kind of vehicle to put them in they didn't have enough rockets to get the wet paper cup off the ground. And after barking at that one frog for jumping out of the cup so many times, I could swear that thing licked my nose. Ewwww, frog germs. The PB&J sandwich was not so lucky. It's splatter of bread and PeaBuJel innards on the dock looked like what Freddie described as a splatted peanut butter filled sea gull. "Must have been a kamikaze Sea Gull." he added. Then after blowing up mud pies came cat tails (the plant not the animal), and a hole in James old and rusty Scooby Doo lunch box. At the time, Stephen thought he was gonna have to console James, but just as quickly as his eyes seems to swell up, he shouted "Do it again! DO IT AGAIN!"
'Finally!' Stephen thought to himself. He would sometimes teased James about taken his lunch box and smashing it, and would tell him he was a sissy boy for having it. And yet here he was with all his baseball cards in his Superman Lunch box, which I might add, still has it's thermos but the cup top was lost and replaced with a pink one from a broken Thermos of one of his sisters mysteriously missing lunch boxes. Now if that aint the cat calling the dog dumb, or the pot calling the kettle black, or even the chocolate covered nut calling the Raisinette a Goober, I don't know what is.
Henry the Dog
Stephen had found a bag of left over fireworks stashed in the trunk of his brother Paul's car. Paul had to have forgotten that they were there. Otherwise he would have charged the boys a storage fee. Not much mind you, but enough for weekend gas money. Paul's girlfriend was going out of town with her mom for the weekend to her Great Aunts place in Phoenix. So Paul was going to be dateless this Saturday night. And if opportunity had knocked, yes he would have embezzled from his little brothers because now he would need the cash to run his friends around from town to town this Saturday night. Also the boys were lucky to have gotten to the bag before any of Paul's friends did. If Nick Slater or Johnny Prauttin (aka Johnny Rotten) were to have found the bag, there would have been one large wasteful barrage of cherry bomb explosions coming from some ones garbage-can somewhere in town. Nick, Johnny and Paul were best buds on the football team. However, what talent they had on a football field they seemed to lack most everywhere else. And to quote not only the younger guys who hung around them from time to time, but also some of their ex-girlfriends "NO IMAGINATION". And that would have been an expensive and thoughtless waste of good, fun, explosives.
So with a small section of copper piping planted firmly in the ground, a small yet sturdy piece of dowel rod resting in the pipe, Barbie strapped to the top of the dowel, and two more bottle rockets added to the previously failed attempt at launching her into space, Jarred lit the match. "RUN!" Stephen shouted. Ten bottle rockets in all, and Barbie was headed toward heaven. She got a wobbly start, but sky rocketed to a new world record of about 25 feet. The crowd cheered. Though merely consisting of Stephen, Jarred, James, and Fast Freddie who was already back at the pond catching frogs, they cheered none-the-less. Barbie was no worse for the wear. G.I.Joe on the other hand, lost a foot in the brier patch, his make shift tin foil helmet, and tooth pick rifle were now floating in the lake, and his new dropped match inspired bald spot was sporting the extra Band-Aid James had stashed in his back pocket.
Fortunately for the frogs, by the time the boys got to figuring out what kind of vehicle to put them in they didn't have enough rockets to get the wet paper cup off the ground. And after barking at that one frog for jumping out of the cup so many times, I could swear that thing licked my nose. Ewwww, frog germs. The PB&J sandwich was not so lucky. It's splatter of bread and PeaBuJel innards on the dock looked like what Freddie described as a splatted peanut butter filled sea gull. "Must have been a kamikaze Sea Gull." he added. Then after blowing up mud pies came cat tails (the plant not the animal), and a hole in James old and rusty Scooby Doo lunch box. At the time, Stephen thought he was gonna have to console James, but just as quickly as his eyes seems to swell up, he shouted "Do it again! DO IT AGAIN!"
'Finally!' Stephen thought to himself. He would sometimes teased James about taken his lunch box and smashing it, and would tell him he was a sissy boy for having it. And yet here he was with all his baseball cards in his Superman Lunch box, which I might add, still has it's thermos but the cup top was lost and replaced with a pink one from a broken Thermos of one of his sisters mysteriously missing lunch boxes. Now if that aint the cat calling the dog dumb, or the pot calling the kettle black, or even the chocolate covered nut calling the Raisinette a Goober, I don't know what is.
Henry the Dog
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Mud Mania - Part 2
Will and Sil Madison (fraternal twins - actual names...William and Silvia) came trotting across the field and over the hill toward the pond. Following not too far behind, was Mark Gladstone. Just beyond sight but within hearing came Bobby, Ingrid, Nathan, Gary, and Oscar. Known in town, by some, as the Snyder 5. It wasn't their parents intention that their first initials would spell B.I.N.G.O., and stranger still before anyone actually mentioned the fact, when they were all a bit smaller it was the family's favorite song to sing on long trips. I however, personally think that Henry is a much better name than Bingo. But that's just me.
Once the news was out that the storms would miss Gruberville, parents were all but drop kicking their kids out the door to go play. Two weeks of miserable heat and several days in the basement was pushing everyone slightly over the edge. So, for no apparent reason, most of the kids headed for the pond. The BOB showed up with large umbrellas. They'd go out if they had to, but get wet too?!? Forget it! They wouldn't normally go to the pond either, but their extreme nosiness forced them to follow the other kids like a magnet. All BOB members, with exception of Sandy, were wearing older shoes, but each had on their clean white Capri's and a pink blouse . Sandy had the pink pants and white blouse. She felt the need to be different sometimes. This would prove to be the wrong place at the wrong time kind of day for them all to be dressed so nice.
A few kids went swimming. A few more discovered the raft Stephen and Jarred had made, and turned it into an island. Most of the other boys gathered together for a football game. Oh boy, this was gonna be fun. My tail was wagging, my ears were up. Let's go LET'S GO, Let's get this game started. The boys decided on having a half field type game. There would be only one end zone, (teams would just switch when they had the ball) and the end zone was the dock. And in order for you to score points you had to jump off the end. Ker-splash. There were no field goals though. Too many bare tender toes were unable to kick the ball with out breaking something. The game started out as a touch equals tackle game, but as soon my attention was drawn away from eating the rest of Fast Freddie's PB&J sandwich, tackle equaled tackle. They tried to get me on the raft, and even tried to tie me to a tree, but two shoelaces did not a steel chain make. I tackled Gary. I tackled Mark. I even tackled Silvia, who only picked up the ball to toss it back to the boys. Oops. She forgave me though. She had a sweet spot for us labs. Sweet girl that she was, she patted my head and said "Go get 'em boy". And on my last tackle I took down Nathan and Oscar who tried to fake me out. Nathan finished the play with a hole in his shorts, and Oscar got slurped on the nose. The boys, were soaked and muddy head to toe and ear to ear. I think that Jarred would have looked like a statue if all that mud had dried on him. Stephen plugged his left nostril and honked out a chunk of mud from his right. And with out hesitation or any common sense, Sandy curled her little nose and said "That's disgusting". And with out hesitation or any common sense of his own, Jarred plugged his right nostril, tilted his head just right and HONK. A single dime size spot of rich Milk Chocolate colored mud made contact with her pink and white outfit.
The gasp of air that everyone who was looking made could have made Guinness' Book of World Records. There was only a 4 second pause but everything seemed to go in hyper slow motion for that time. Eye's looked left, and right, and down, and back around to the eyes of everyone else, just to see who else had seen what just happened. They all gasped again. I tell you, if there had been just one more gasp, there won't be any more air left. Sandy's eyes went from fear of mud coming at her, to unbelief that it wasn't going to miss her, to looking like here eyes were telling the rest of her body to grind that boy into dust. In the mean time, Jarred and Stephen's eyes went from who are you to call anything disgusting (she packs mud on her face once a week), to take that you snot nosed brat, to looking like their eyes were sending them mixed signals of...Stand your ground - No, Run for your life - No, Get more mud - No, Jump in the pond - No, Run for your life. Any guesses on the choice both of them made simultaneously?!? Yep, easy answer "GET MORE MUD!"
For a mile you could hear the screams and laughter, and the hoots and hollers. Every single kid that had not been playing football now looked as if they had. Mud was flung high and low. Mud splattered every inch of every BOB member without missing a beat. Literally. You could have played any 4/4 tempo song and the mud flinging would have been musically entertaining. Yeah, I know what your thinking. What do dogs know about music? More than you probably know. We may be color blind, but our noses and ears make up for it. Anyway, no need for music today, the entertainment value of mud flinging in all directions was quite enough. Noses, and ears, and pockets, and hair, all packed full of mud. Surprisingly I don't recall any kids running home crying or screaming from mud in the eye, or from mouth full of mud pie. After a little running around, the gentle rain would clean off a spot here or there. So even after the whole lot of them were covered they would still look around for the kid that looked like he or she had the least amount of mud on them and then......SPLAT. The umbrellas that The BOB brought made good force fields, for a little while. But they were no match for a 360 degree assault.
After about an hour of horse play (that's what Mrs. Meyers would call it. But in the mud it was more like pig play.) the kids settled down and started to rinse them selves off in the pond. Long after the last kid stepped out of the pond the water was still a chocolate milk looking mess. But no matter. It would all settle and be back to normal by tomorrow.
The day cooled down, and so did the BOB. For the first time in history they were just one of the kids in town. The rest of the week was much more mild too. Plenty of neglected chores were now being done. Lawn mowers were heard from as early as 6 AM till as late as 10:30 PM. You could smell meals being cooked down every street again, where as on days before everyone was making cold cut sandwiches for lunch and dinner. Electric bills in town would be a bit high this month from all the fan usage. Small price to pay for a good nights sleep though. Thank God we don't live in the desert. I don't think my paws could take the heat and the sand.
After practically two solid days of catch-up chores, Stephen and Jarred sprayed on a bit of bug spray and headed up to the tree house. They thought maybe they would try to stay up all night, but were both so exhausted they were out before Mrs. Crow could say "You two keep it down up there. Good night !" right before she would go to bed. Good Night Gruberville. Good, Cool, Night.
Henry the Dog
Once the news was out that the storms would miss Gruberville, parents were all but drop kicking their kids out the door to go play. Two weeks of miserable heat and several days in the basement was pushing everyone slightly over the edge. So, for no apparent reason, most of the kids headed for the pond. The BOB showed up with large umbrellas. They'd go out if they had to, but get wet too?!? Forget it! They wouldn't normally go to the pond either, but their extreme nosiness forced them to follow the other kids like a magnet. All BOB members, with exception of Sandy, were wearing older shoes, but each had on their clean white Capri's and a pink blouse . Sandy had the pink pants and white blouse. She felt the need to be different sometimes. This would prove to be the wrong place at the wrong time kind of day for them all to be dressed so nice.
A few kids went swimming. A few more discovered the raft Stephen and Jarred had made, and turned it into an island. Most of the other boys gathered together for a football game. Oh boy, this was gonna be fun. My tail was wagging, my ears were up. Let's go LET'S GO, Let's get this game started. The boys decided on having a half field type game. There would be only one end zone, (teams would just switch when they had the ball) and the end zone was the dock. And in order for you to score points you had to jump off the end. Ker-splash. There were no field goals though. Too many bare tender toes were unable to kick the ball with out breaking something. The game started out as a touch equals tackle game, but as soon my attention was drawn away from eating the rest of Fast Freddie's PB&J sandwich, tackle equaled tackle. They tried to get me on the raft, and even tried to tie me to a tree, but two shoelaces did not a steel chain make. I tackled Gary. I tackled Mark. I even tackled Silvia, who only picked up the ball to toss it back to the boys. Oops. She forgave me though. She had a sweet spot for us labs. Sweet girl that she was, she patted my head and said "Go get 'em boy". And on my last tackle I took down Nathan and Oscar who tried to fake me out. Nathan finished the play with a hole in his shorts, and Oscar got slurped on the nose. The boys, were soaked and muddy head to toe and ear to ear. I think that Jarred would have looked like a statue if all that mud had dried on him. Stephen plugged his left nostril and honked out a chunk of mud from his right. And with out hesitation or any common sense, Sandy curled her little nose and said "That's disgusting". And with out hesitation or any common sense of his own, Jarred plugged his right nostril, tilted his head just right and HONK. A single dime size spot of rich Milk Chocolate colored mud made contact with her pink and white outfit.
The gasp of air that everyone who was looking made could have made Guinness' Book of World Records. There was only a 4 second pause but everything seemed to go in hyper slow motion for that time. Eye's looked left, and right, and down, and back around to the eyes of everyone else, just to see who else had seen what just happened. They all gasped again. I tell you, if there had been just one more gasp, there won't be any more air left. Sandy's eyes went from fear of mud coming at her, to unbelief that it wasn't going to miss her, to looking like here eyes were telling the rest of her body to grind that boy into dust. In the mean time, Jarred and Stephen's eyes went from who are you to call anything disgusting (she packs mud on her face once a week), to take that you snot nosed brat, to looking like their eyes were sending them mixed signals of...Stand your ground - No, Run for your life - No, Get more mud - No, Jump in the pond - No, Run for your life. Any guesses on the choice both of them made simultaneously?!? Yep, easy answer "GET MORE MUD!"
For a mile you could hear the screams and laughter, and the hoots and hollers. Every single kid that had not been playing football now looked as if they had. Mud was flung high and low. Mud splattered every inch of every BOB member without missing a beat. Literally. You could have played any 4/4 tempo song and the mud flinging would have been musically entertaining. Yeah, I know what your thinking. What do dogs know about music? More than you probably know. We may be color blind, but our noses and ears make up for it. Anyway, no need for music today, the entertainment value of mud flinging in all directions was quite enough. Noses, and ears, and pockets, and hair, all packed full of mud. Surprisingly I don't recall any kids running home crying or screaming from mud in the eye, or from mouth full of mud pie. After a little running around, the gentle rain would clean off a spot here or there. So even after the whole lot of them were covered they would still look around for the kid that looked like he or she had the least amount of mud on them and then......SPLAT. The umbrellas that The BOB brought made good force fields, for a little while. But they were no match for a 360 degree assault.
After about an hour of horse play (that's what Mrs. Meyers would call it. But in the mud it was more like pig play.) the kids settled down and started to rinse them selves off in the pond. Long after the last kid stepped out of the pond the water was still a chocolate milk looking mess. But no matter. It would all settle and be back to normal by tomorrow.
The day cooled down, and so did the BOB. For the first time in history they were just one of the kids in town. The rest of the week was much more mild too. Plenty of neglected chores were now being done. Lawn mowers were heard from as early as 6 AM till as late as 10:30 PM. You could smell meals being cooked down every street again, where as on days before everyone was making cold cut sandwiches for lunch and dinner. Electric bills in town would be a bit high this month from all the fan usage. Small price to pay for a good nights sleep though. Thank God we don't live in the desert. I don't think my paws could take the heat and the sand.
After practically two solid days of catch-up chores, Stephen and Jarred sprayed on a bit of bug spray and headed up to the tree house. They thought maybe they would try to stay up all night, but were both so exhausted they were out before Mrs. Crow could say "You two keep it down up there. Good night !" right before she would go to bed. Good Night Gruberville. Good, Cool, Night.
Henry the Dog
Mud mania - Part 1
Saturday, 9:46 AM. Already 87 degrees. Humidity?!? Well, ONLY 81 %, but what a scorcher of a day this was going to become. The boys got up quickly for the call to breakfast at 7:30. At that time it was just 77 degrees. Saturday meant banana-berry pancakes, home-made sausage, Amish made maple syrup, OJ and milk. All of that meant a belly full til mid afternoon. Jarred started to stand up from the kitchen table and the bare part of his legs started to take the chair with him. And with the suction type sound it made, Stephen would have had milk coming out of his nose if it had actually been milk. This time it was orange juice. Nice. Real nice.
It was already a sticky hot day. Window fans, all across town, were blowing full speed. Some facing in, from the shady side of the house, to bring in the cooler air. Some facing out to remove the hot air through the highest window in the house, and a few more inside moving the air around. Several people had air conditioners in their living room windows, but even those looked and sounded like they were running too hot to work. "Too hot to do house work", was heard said by many a mother in town. "Too hot to do yard work" by a few fathers. And they weren't kidding. Too hot was an understatement. Jarred went to the freezer and grabbed a few ice-cubes to toss to me. If I had had hands, I would have wrapped them in a towel and tied it around my head. But instead, I chewed 'em up. That equaled about 90 seconds of cool relief to my tongue. (pant pant pant) On a trip, down in basement, to retrieve my most favorite chew toy, I realized a wonderful thing. And with a little coaxing, of several trips up and down the steps barking like there was no tomorrow, Mr. Meyers finally came down to see what the "Barking Menace was flapping his K-9 lips about". For the record, us dogs do not have lips. Anyway, he realized that it was nearly 20 degrees cooler in the basement, and then called for everyone to go down there.
The heat was breaking record highs by leaps and bounds, and was getting dangerously high for some of the locals. After Mrs. Meyers made a few phone calls to spread her husbands revelation (yeah right! HIS idea), news traveled fast and most people spent the day in their basements. And you would think that these so called more intelligent beings would have figured that out for themselves. They should listen to us dogs more often. We are pretty smart ya know.
Sunday came and went. Much like Saturday with the heat index high and humid. Everyone had a quick service at all of the churches to try and avoid the mid-day sun. A few kids were running through the lawn sprinklers, but many a family was planning to spend the day in the cool of the basement once again.
Monday, 8:35 am, 85 degrees and slowly dropping. The high for the day was to drop to 73. A cold front was moving in. With that could come storms and possibly severe weather. So of course the boys biked off to check the pond. Brainless wonders. I followed of course. Brainless dog. We went to see if their raft was still there, and to see just how low the water level was since they hadn't been there in more than 3 days. The ponds water lever was down by almost two feet after two weeks of scorching heat and no rain. Some clay at the far end was showing, and drying out rapidly. Even though it was quite humid, the heat still sucked the water out of just about everything thing it could. The day before Mrs. Kappral, the high school art teacher, was seen digging up some of that clay for a future project. She loved finding natural resources for potential works of art. The pond was mostly clean, and the clay was perfect for her 10th grade molding and sculpting class. She often said that "Natural is Better. God knew what he was doing." She'd say that natural clay, like natures other products, is far better than processed refined clay. Mrs. Kappral found a penny on the side walk that morning, and thought what a great way to be reminded of "In God We Trust".
The boys were listening to the weather report on the beat up radio Stephen had strapped to his handle bars. The antenna almost too out his eye once. Seemed the big storms were gonna go around Gruberville today. Still might be a little bit of rain though. But that would be good for the kids. They can go out and cool off in the rain. And fresh puddles in the grass are so much fun. Even for us dogs. After the weather report, the station resumed it's regular music line up, and Jarred sang every word of Johnny Be Good, replacing all the "Johnny's" with "Jarred". He almost wrecked his bike when he kicked out his leg trying to imitate Chuck Berry. His air guitar was a little dry too. The boys arrived at the pond and found everything in order. Stephen took his shoes off and waded in the mud and water to take a close look at the raft. Still there, still secure, and still... there is no way they were getting me on that thing. The boys did a decent job and all, and I can swim, but something just didn't feel right the first time I stepped on the USS Mini Enterprise. When they first launched the raft I had stepped one paw on it and then quickly backed off. It was something I couldn't explain but just knew. Jarred called me a chicken, and Stephen flapped his arms hard enough around while "buk buk bukking" at me that he stumbled right into the water. Call ME a chicken, you arm flapping flounder. Served him right.
As it was, the squishing sound that Stephen's feet made in the mud, made them both giggle ridiculously weird sounds. To be quite frank, it sounded like the mud had gas. Jarred chuckled a bit and then tried to imitate the sound with his hands in the mud. Flllllllllllllerp prrrp. On his next attempt his fingers ran into an old pie plate buried only a few inches. He pulled it out and immediately the light bulb came on. He filled the plate with some mud and chased Stephen around the pond, threatening to give him a mud pie facial. Jarred was flinging little bits mud from the plate at Stephen when suddenly, it was empty. Stephen found his opportunity, tackled Jarred, and stole the plate from him. It was now his turn. While rain began to sprinkle, and you could see lightning and hear thunder in the next county, the boys stuck sticks in the mud, made more flatulence sounds, and played in the clay until ..........
to be continued.
Henry the Dog.
It was already a sticky hot day. Window fans, all across town, were blowing full speed. Some facing in, from the shady side of the house, to bring in the cooler air. Some facing out to remove the hot air through the highest window in the house, and a few more inside moving the air around. Several people had air conditioners in their living room windows, but even those looked and sounded like they were running too hot to work. "Too hot to do house work", was heard said by many a mother in town. "Too hot to do yard work" by a few fathers. And they weren't kidding. Too hot was an understatement. Jarred went to the freezer and grabbed a few ice-cubes to toss to me. If I had had hands, I would have wrapped them in a towel and tied it around my head. But instead, I chewed 'em up. That equaled about 90 seconds of cool relief to my tongue. (pant pant pant) On a trip, down in basement, to retrieve my most favorite chew toy, I realized a wonderful thing. And with a little coaxing, of several trips up and down the steps barking like there was no tomorrow, Mr. Meyers finally came down to see what the "Barking Menace was flapping his K-9 lips about". For the record, us dogs do not have lips. Anyway, he realized that it was nearly 20 degrees cooler in the basement, and then called for everyone to go down there.
The heat was breaking record highs by leaps and bounds, and was getting dangerously high for some of the locals. After Mrs. Meyers made a few phone calls to spread her husbands revelation (yeah right! HIS idea), news traveled fast and most people spent the day in their basements. And you would think that these so called more intelligent beings would have figured that out for themselves. They should listen to us dogs more often. We are pretty smart ya know.
Sunday came and went. Much like Saturday with the heat index high and humid. Everyone had a quick service at all of the churches to try and avoid the mid-day sun. A few kids were running through the lawn sprinklers, but many a family was planning to spend the day in the cool of the basement once again.
Monday, 8:35 am, 85 degrees and slowly dropping. The high for the day was to drop to 73. A cold front was moving in. With that could come storms and possibly severe weather. So of course the boys biked off to check the pond. Brainless wonders. I followed of course. Brainless dog. We went to see if their raft was still there, and to see just how low the water level was since they hadn't been there in more than 3 days. The ponds water lever was down by almost two feet after two weeks of scorching heat and no rain. Some clay at the far end was showing, and drying out rapidly. Even though it was quite humid, the heat still sucked the water out of just about everything thing it could. The day before Mrs. Kappral, the high school art teacher, was seen digging up some of that clay for a future project. She loved finding natural resources for potential works of art. The pond was mostly clean, and the clay was perfect for her 10th grade molding and sculpting class. She often said that "Natural is Better. God knew what he was doing." She'd say that natural clay, like natures other products, is far better than processed refined clay. Mrs. Kappral found a penny on the side walk that morning, and thought what a great way to be reminded of "In God We Trust".
The boys were listening to the weather report on the beat up radio Stephen had strapped to his handle bars. The antenna almost too out his eye once. Seemed the big storms were gonna go around Gruberville today. Still might be a little bit of rain though. But that would be good for the kids. They can go out and cool off in the rain. And fresh puddles in the grass are so much fun. Even for us dogs. After the weather report, the station resumed it's regular music line up, and Jarred sang every word of Johnny Be Good, replacing all the "Johnny's" with "Jarred". He almost wrecked his bike when he kicked out his leg trying to imitate Chuck Berry. His air guitar was a little dry too. The boys arrived at the pond and found everything in order. Stephen took his shoes off and waded in the mud and water to take a close look at the raft. Still there, still secure, and still... there is no way they were getting me on that thing. The boys did a decent job and all, and I can swim, but something just didn't feel right the first time I stepped on the USS Mini Enterprise. When they first launched the raft I had stepped one paw on it and then quickly backed off. It was something I couldn't explain but just knew. Jarred called me a chicken, and Stephen flapped his arms hard enough around while "buk buk bukking" at me that he stumbled right into the water. Call ME a chicken, you arm flapping flounder. Served him right.
As it was, the squishing sound that Stephen's feet made in the mud, made them both giggle ridiculously weird sounds. To be quite frank, it sounded like the mud had gas. Jarred chuckled a bit and then tried to imitate the sound with his hands in the mud. Flllllllllllllerp prrrp. On his next attempt his fingers ran into an old pie plate buried only a few inches. He pulled it out and immediately the light bulb came on. He filled the plate with some mud and chased Stephen around the pond, threatening to give him a mud pie facial. Jarred was flinging little bits mud from the plate at Stephen when suddenly, it was empty. Stephen found his opportunity, tackled Jarred, and stole the plate from him. It was now his turn. While rain began to sprinkle, and you could see lightning and hear thunder in the next county, the boys stuck sticks in the mud, made more flatulence sounds, and played in the clay until ..........
to be continued.
Henry the Dog.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Toothbrushes and tires.
Jarred turned 3 shades of ghost, and Stephen nearly wet himself, as the car drifted slowly backwards toward the pond. "stop it. Stop It. STOP IT!" Stephen screamed in a pitch that made my ears duck for cover. Everything was happening in slow motion. Except for the boys heart beats. "Jaaaarrrrreeeed, Juuuump baaaack iiiinnn annnnnnnd puuuuuuush theeee braaaaaake." Stephen hollered. thumpthump thumpthump thumpthump thumpthump thump.......... Jarred's heart raced. But his feet weren't moving. He looked over at Stephen, back at the car, and back over to Stephen who was motioning for Jarred to jump in the car. I had raced around the car about 7 times yelling for them to see what was happening. I tried to warn em'. But would they listen to me? NO WAY. Goofy boys. thumpthump thumpthump thumpthump Stephen's heart must have been pumping 900 gallons a second. And I think at one point it just stopped all together as he watched his life flash before his eyes.
See, earlier that day, Stephen and Jarred begged and finally convinced Stephen's older brother to let them use the car to pull some of the junk out of the pond. You know, a shopping cart some kid "borrowed" from the market, a few bicycles, and what ever else they could find. Two weeks prior, Stephen had jumped in the water and struck his knee on one of those bikes and split it wide open. He had 5 stitches and a black and blue mark that made even his dad cringe. The boys figured that what ever they couldn't salvage as parts for their bikes they could take to the dump and look like hero's to the rest of the community for cleaning up the pond. And well, it was about time they look good, rather than look guilty.
Stephen's older brother would drop off his "beater-mobile" (That's what Stephen called it) and leave it with the boys while he visited with his girl friend. Joyce lived just beyond the little grove of trees on the other side of the pond. She loved wild flowers and the little forest always sprouted up a few thousand in the center where there was a nice mini-meadow. So Paul, Stephen's older brother, dropped off the car and told them "Do not take this car out of the area of the pond. When you park it, put it in neutral, and put the parking break on 'before you get out'." He turned to leave, and then turned back toward the boys. " And leave my radio alone. If I come back and the station is changed I'm gonna pound you both." He finished with a closed fist and a little smirk. No, they weren't old enough to drive, but Paul had been teaching Stephen and Jarred how to drive stick shift on the back roads between Gruberville, and Willoby. They would go to Willoby to fish sometimes. They went to a hidden lake, and it was supposed to be off limits to the public, but no one really enforced the law. They would sometimes see the Chief of Police from Gruberville there too.
So the boys started their task. Jarred brought a rope from home. They took turns jumping in and tying the rope to the junk at the bottom of the pond. Seven bikes in all. What was it about riding your bike off of the little dock that appealed to these kids. Anyway, three of them had gotten tangled up together and proved to be a "real deep mud booger" (Jarred's term) to get out. The handle bars from one of the bikes seemed to dig deeper and get stuck in the mud. 7 bikes, 1 shopping card, 4 fishing poles, (one with a GI-Joe and Barbie tied to the end , and 2 coffee cans full of dead worms and mud. Yum yum. Don't ask me to explain the GI-Joe and Barbie. It must be a human thing.
Their task complete, the boys decided to go for a real swim now. Stephen's knee carving had healed shut and was okay to get wet now. They untied the rope from the bumper, tossed it with the other junk in the trunk, and headed for the dock. "Smallest canon ball splash gets two punches in the arm." Jarred hollered, ( BARK BARK - Hey you goobers - BARK BARK) "You're on." Stephen answered back. The punches would never get thrown. Since neither boy could see his own splash, they couldn't agree who's was smaller. And besides that.........(Rrrr-ruff Bark BARK - Somethings wrong over here - Bark BARK) "Well come on Henry." Stephen said without turning back. So he didn't see me racing around the car like a maniac. Stephen reached the dock first, but stopped as he caught Jarred out of the corner of his eye. "Hey you guys, c'mon." I stopped running and just sat down. Jarred's face had turned 3 shades of Ghost. Stephen got a glimpse of what Jarred was looking at and nearly wet him self from the inside of his shorts. The "Bubba Beater" (Paul's nickname from the football team.) was headed for the pond. "You forgot to set the break." Stephen cried out. Jarred was the last to drive it. If you can call moving 30 feet 'driving'. It wasn't much of a hill, but with the trunk stuffed with all the dismembered bike and other findings (Minus the shopping cart. They had plans for the cart) there was just enough extra weight to give it a little momentum. Both of the boys hearts were racing. It wasn't the greatest car in town, but Paul bought it with his own money and that meant something. 'He's gonna kill us.' The boys both thought to themselves. Stephen headed toward Jarred and the car. Finally, I thought. Maybe now you guys will start listening to me more often. Jarred looked at the car, looked at me, looked at the car again, looked back toward Stephen, looked at the car once more, looked at me again, and finally after 3.8 seconds and almost getting whiplash Jarred darted for the car. He fumbled with the door handle for what seemed like an eternity, popped open the door, jumped in, landed both feet on the foot brake, grabbed the parking brake with both hands and came to a sliding on wet grass halt. Just 2 inches from the water sat the tires.
Whew!!!! That was close. Bar rar rar ruff - 'Hey guys!?! Why are the tires sinking?' I asked.
Well, when Stephen's brother returned they tried 2 bags of sand, and a 2 x 4, but ended up calling one of Paul's buddies to come tow the car out of the mud with his truck. Paul wasn't angry, but he did have the boys scrub his new wheels and tires with two old toothbrushes until they sparkled again.
Henry the dog.
See, earlier that day, Stephen and Jarred begged and finally convinced Stephen's older brother to let them use the car to pull some of the junk out of the pond. You know, a shopping cart some kid "borrowed" from the market, a few bicycles, and what ever else they could find. Two weeks prior, Stephen had jumped in the water and struck his knee on one of those bikes and split it wide open. He had 5 stitches and a black and blue mark that made even his dad cringe. The boys figured that what ever they couldn't salvage as parts for their bikes they could take to the dump and look like hero's to the rest of the community for cleaning up the pond. And well, it was about time they look good, rather than look guilty.
Stephen's older brother would drop off his "beater-mobile" (That's what Stephen called it) and leave it with the boys while he visited with his girl friend. Joyce lived just beyond the little grove of trees on the other side of the pond. She loved wild flowers and the little forest always sprouted up a few thousand in the center where there was a nice mini-meadow. So Paul, Stephen's older brother, dropped off the car and told them "Do not take this car out of the area of the pond. When you park it, put it in neutral, and put the parking break on 'before you get out'." He turned to leave, and then turned back toward the boys. " And leave my radio alone. If I come back and the station is changed I'm gonna pound you both." He finished with a closed fist and a little smirk. No, they weren't old enough to drive, but Paul had been teaching Stephen and Jarred how to drive stick shift on the back roads between Gruberville, and Willoby. They would go to Willoby to fish sometimes. They went to a hidden lake, and it was supposed to be off limits to the public, but no one really enforced the law. They would sometimes see the Chief of Police from Gruberville there too.
So the boys started their task. Jarred brought a rope from home. They took turns jumping in and tying the rope to the junk at the bottom of the pond. Seven bikes in all. What was it about riding your bike off of the little dock that appealed to these kids. Anyway, three of them had gotten tangled up together and proved to be a "real deep mud booger" (Jarred's term) to get out. The handle bars from one of the bikes seemed to dig deeper and get stuck in the mud. 7 bikes, 1 shopping card, 4 fishing poles, (one with a GI-Joe and Barbie tied to the end , and 2 coffee cans full of dead worms and mud. Yum yum. Don't ask me to explain the GI-Joe and Barbie. It must be a human thing.
Their task complete, the boys decided to go for a real swim now. Stephen's knee carving had healed shut and was okay to get wet now. They untied the rope from the bumper, tossed it with the other junk in the trunk, and headed for the dock. "Smallest canon ball splash gets two punches in the arm." Jarred hollered, ( BARK BARK - Hey you goobers - BARK BARK) "You're on." Stephen answered back. The punches would never get thrown. Since neither boy could see his own splash, they couldn't agree who's was smaller. And besides that.........(Rrrr-ruff Bark BARK - Somethings wrong over here - Bark BARK) "Well come on Henry." Stephen said without turning back. So he didn't see me racing around the car like a maniac. Stephen reached the dock first, but stopped as he caught Jarred out of the corner of his eye. "Hey you guys, c'mon." I stopped running and just sat down. Jarred's face had turned 3 shades of Ghost. Stephen got a glimpse of what Jarred was looking at and nearly wet him self from the inside of his shorts. The "Bubba Beater" (Paul's nickname from the football team.) was headed for the pond. "You forgot to set the break." Stephen cried out. Jarred was the last to drive it. If you can call moving 30 feet 'driving'. It wasn't much of a hill, but with the trunk stuffed with all the dismembered bike and other findings (Minus the shopping cart. They had plans for the cart) there was just enough extra weight to give it a little momentum. Both of the boys hearts were racing. It wasn't the greatest car in town, but Paul bought it with his own money and that meant something. 'He's gonna kill us.' The boys both thought to themselves. Stephen headed toward Jarred and the car. Finally, I thought. Maybe now you guys will start listening to me more often. Jarred looked at the car, looked at me, looked at the car again, looked back toward Stephen, looked at the car once more, looked at me again, and finally after 3.8 seconds and almost getting whiplash Jarred darted for the car. He fumbled with the door handle for what seemed like an eternity, popped open the door, jumped in, landed both feet on the foot brake, grabbed the parking brake with both hands and came to a sliding on wet grass halt. Just 2 inches from the water sat the tires.
Whew!!!! That was close. Bar rar rar ruff - 'Hey guys!?! Why are the tires sinking?' I asked.
Well, when Stephen's brother returned they tried 2 bags of sand, and a 2 x 4, but ended up calling one of Paul's buddies to come tow the car out of the mud with his truck. Paul wasn't angry, but he did have the boys scrub his new wheels and tires with two old toothbrushes until they sparkled again.
Henry the dog.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
The boys are going to CAMP. VII - Headin' Home.
Camp was all but over. Everyone had breakfast, and was on the way back to their cabins to finish packing when it happened. "What happened Henry", you ask? Well I'll be glad to tell you. Everyday while leaving the chow hall Jarred and Stephen would grab a stone from around the bushes, that were next to the stairs, and try and throw it over the pine trees close to the welcome sign. And every day they would not even come close to making it over. So this last departure from the chow hall seemed to them to be a special last chance challenge. They were the first out of the hall, and they had decided to pick up 3 stones each. They threw stone one, and missed by about 10 feet. They threw stone two, and missed by about 5 feet this time. When they each threw their third stone they missed again by 5 feet. But this time Jarred didn't hear the normal sounds of the stones bouncing off of branches on the way down. This time he heard a soft kind of thud. "Well that's that." Stephen said turning away toward the cabin. "We hit something up there." Jarred answered back. And then with a scared kind of wonderment in his voice "Stephen, Wait." "Forget it dude. We're never gonna get over those trees." Stephen said still walking away. The chow hall was still emptying when Jarred raised his voice a bit "Stephen do you hear that?" Stephen turn back toward Jarred "Hear What?!?" "That, that humming sound." "I don't hear anythi..." Stephen replied. "OH MAN!" Jarred hollered backing away from the trees and then turned and ran. "EVERYBODY RUN!!!" But everyone just stood there watching Jarred run toward the lake. That boy is crazy they all thought for a few seconds. Then out of the blue. "OUCH" "HEY, OW" "What is that?" "OUCH" and then somebody bellowed out "RUN FOR THE LAKE, IT'S BEE'S" screams came from everywhere. Kids were swatting and running and jumping into the water. Several others were still inside the chow hall looking out at everyone from behind the screen door that now had more than 50 bees crawling on and flying around it. After it was all over we had found out that Stephen and/or Jarred (were still not sure which one) had hit and knocked down a 45 lb honey bee's nest. I mean can you imagine a 45 lb blob of honey just hanging off a branch of some 60 foot pine tree? It was huge.
Boys had been running to and from everywhere. Most of them made it to the lake and were playing the bobbing camper every time a bee flew over head. Mr. Brydare was well aware that there could be nests of all sorts out there in the woods, and was prepared for just such an occasion. He had tucked away in his quarters several smoke bombs. No, not those little round gum-ball sized things you light with a match. He had military issue smoke grenades. And no sooner did he pulled the ring on two of them grenades and tossed them into the bivouac area did those bees start to clear out. He had also given word to the camp nurse/secretary to call someone to come and clear out the nest. Once the Bee Man arrived all he had to do was find the queen and then the other bees would follow. He and his Wive brought two man made bees nests and a couple extra queens in case they couldn't find the original. In all it took about 3 hours to clear 'em out. And those bee's were not to happy about it. They even tried to attack those two in their protective suits.
The grand total of stings was 83. The most stings received by anyone was 17. Franky was the lucky one with that tally. And there was only one kid that had an allergic reaction to the sting he got. Nurse Wilson was quick to act, and gave him the shot needed to keep him from going into shock. So After the excitement was over, and all the bags were packed and ready to be loaded on the buses, the boys all said their good-byes with a few hand shakes and several punches in the arm. The Antlers Cabin Counselor Mike came running up to Jarred and Stephen and handed them both a copy of the picture of all three of their bald heads. Then standing between the two of them with an arm around each ones shoulder he said " Here. Something to remember camp by." And just as the boys were about to say thank you, in one quick motion Mike grabbed hold of their tightie whities and gave them each an off the ground wedgie. That's when your feet are no longer touching the ground. "And this is for the bee sting I got on my back side you big honkin' goobers." He finished, laughing and setting them back down. Others laughed, Stephen and Jarred just cringed a bit and did what they could to loosen up their under sides. (Ooooo that's gotta hurt.) Mike shook their hands and said "You guys be good." "See ya Mike. Thanks for the great time" They simultaneously replied like the alien twins that they are. And then, well, Camp was over.
Henry the dog.
Boys had been running to and from everywhere. Most of them made it to the lake and were playing the bobbing camper every time a bee flew over head. Mr. Brydare was well aware that there could be nests of all sorts out there in the woods, and was prepared for just such an occasion. He had tucked away in his quarters several smoke bombs. No, not those little round gum-ball sized things you light with a match. He had military issue smoke grenades. And no sooner did he pulled the ring on two of them grenades and tossed them into the bivouac area did those bees start to clear out. He had also given word to the camp nurse/secretary to call someone to come and clear out the nest. Once the Bee Man arrived all he had to do was find the queen and then the other bees would follow. He and his Wive brought two man made bees nests and a couple extra queens in case they couldn't find the original. In all it took about 3 hours to clear 'em out. And those bee's were not to happy about it. They even tried to attack those two in their protective suits.
The grand total of stings was 83. The most stings received by anyone was 17. Franky was the lucky one with that tally. And there was only one kid that had an allergic reaction to the sting he got. Nurse Wilson was quick to act, and gave him the shot needed to keep him from going into shock. So After the excitement was over, and all the bags were packed and ready to be loaded on the buses, the boys all said their good-byes with a few hand shakes and several punches in the arm. The Antlers Cabin Counselor Mike came running up to Jarred and Stephen and handed them both a copy of the picture of all three of their bald heads. Then standing between the two of them with an arm around each ones shoulder he said " Here. Something to remember camp by." And just as the boys were about to say thank you, in one quick motion Mike grabbed hold of their tightie whities and gave them each an off the ground wedgie. That's when your feet are no longer touching the ground. "And this is for the bee sting I got on my back side you big honkin' goobers." He finished, laughing and setting them back down. Others laughed, Stephen and Jarred just cringed a bit and did what they could to loosen up their under sides. (Ooooo that's gotta hurt.) Mike shook their hands and said "You guys be good." "See ya Mike. Thanks for the great time" They simultaneously replied like the alien twins that they are. And then, well, Camp was over.
Henry the dog.
The boys are going to CAMP. VI
Wednesday all the boys in camp got together for the Camp Olympics Competition. All morning there were double elimination games to see who was going to compete in the finals after a late lunch. The games included an Obstacle course relay. Ten guys at each end of the course, the first guy runs the course forward tags the next guy on the other side and then he runs the course backwards. The backwards part was the most fun to watch. At one point while going forward you climb a 35 foot cargo rope ladder up to a platform. Next you shimmy across and down a 90 foot rope that is attached at both ends. First attached at the platform, then it crosses a small pond, and is attached to a 6 foot steak in the ground. More boys fall into the water going backwards and up than going forward and down on the rope climb. There were 5 obstacles in all. One by one cabins were eliminated from the Obstacle course relay. Mean while there were Tug-of-war games going on too. Also there were row boat races, a greased pole team climb, and an archery contest that included the hatchet throw. The greased pole climb was as fun to watch as the backward portion of the obstacle course. The pole was 12 feet high, and each team had to form pyramids, of some kind, around the pole to reach the top. This was a timed game, and quite messy. There was a small plank of wood attached to the top and the object was to get your smallest guy up there and sitting on it. And his reward was getting to jump down into a blanket being held by the Cabin Counselors. I wish I could have been able to do that. The archery games proved to be quite interesting this year. Two cabin counselors were breaking records left and right. They were both from the same High School and had both been to National Archery competitions before. One arrow actually hit the tail of another arrow that was already in the bull's-eye. Now it didn't split it like you hear about in stories like Robin Hood, but it did chip the plastic end into a couple pieces. The crowd cheered for almost 3 straight minutes.
Upon entering the Tug of War, the twenty boys from Cabin Echo were grunting and groaning as Cabin Antler slowly pulled them into the mud pit. Stephen and Jarred were the front two on Cabin Antlers side. In the first minute of the war Stephen's right foot was pulled into the mud, and he wasn't fancying the idea of being covered head to toe. So Stephen whispered back to Jarred for a second and said "Are you with me?" "Absolutely" Jarred answered. So then Stephen let the rest of the team know what was on his mind. He hollered back, "If Cabin Antler takes the tug of war competition, Jarred and I will let you shave our heads." Now after a variety of pranks and just plain goofing off, the rest of the cabin was looking for something they could do to these two. Jarred would stick spiders, and crickets in pillow cases, while Stephen would short sheet the bunks. This happened almost every day. So naturally cheers rung throughout the line behind them and the rope started to move backwards. "Looks like you found the motivation you guys needed to win." Their cabin counselor Mike said. So with that in mind, Mike made them all another offer. "If Cabin Antler takes the most Gold medals, I'll let you guys shave my head too." More cheers roared from the Antler side and then with all their might there was tug one with a grunt, tug two with a grunt, and finally while tug three began to tumble Cabin Echo up and over their own feet into the mud, there was a loud slow thunderous battle cry. "Annntttllllerrrrrs!!!!!"
Cabin Antler took the Tug-of-war competition, and as promised Jarred and Stephen got their heads shaved. However the Antlers tied for first place with The Devil Dogs Cabin in all the rest of the games. Back at the cabin Mike pretended to be sorely disappointed in the failure of the Antler Cabin for having not completely won. He threw his arms in the air and exasperated in a long sigh "The Dooooooooogs?!? You tied with the 'D' Dogs!" I thought 'hey there's nothing wrong with us dogs', but he wasn't talking about me. You see, Mike had been prepping the guys every night with some really good motivational type speeches, and though he couldn't have been more proud for all the effort each boy put into the games, he was now pretending to chew them out for slacking so much, and kept telling them how close they were. And then just as most of the boys were looking down at the floor in disappointment of themselves , he quickly picked up something from under his pillow, and with his hands behind his back, like some kind of Drill Instructor Mike said "If you wimpy Antlers hadn't tried so hard, you wouldn't be able to enjoy this moment." The boys looked up wondering what he meant by that. And then he pulled from behind his back the barber shears. "Tied for first place, is STILL first place." There was a short pause of confusion from the boys, but then came the battle cry Mike had been teaching them the whole week before the Olympics. So they cried out and they all jump from their bunks in unison tackling and dog piling on top of Mike in the middle of the floor.
Mike only got one nick on his head from the shears. Stephen did it when Franky bumped his elbow. And it was funny to see his glowing white head come from behind his short curly hair. It kind of looked like a thin helmet with the rest of his face and neck tanned like it was. Mike had a picture taken of the three now bald guys from Cabin Antler. He took a grease pencil and wrote "A - N" on his head, "T - L" on Jarred head, and "E - R's" on Stephen's head. The three of them bowed their heads down for the photo. Mr. Brydare took a few more pic's of those three for the Wall Of Fame in the Chow Hall. There was one picture with the three of their heads poking out from behind a table with honey dews on it. You could just see their eyes peaking below their own melon heads.
Later that evening the Camp Olympics had it's winners award ceremony. Each year Mr. Brydare would make some wooden token type medals to pass out to the winners. He'd paint them Gold, Silver, and Bronze. Last year the medals were shaped like stars. This year the awards were in the traditional circular shape with some interesting designs carved in them. Mr. Brydare had just gotten himself some new tools and was ever so happy to test them out on the Medals. I even got an honorary Gold Dog Bone medal for helping out.
Camp was all but over.............
Henry the Dog.
Upon entering the Tug of War, the twenty boys from Cabin Echo were grunting and groaning as Cabin Antler slowly pulled them into the mud pit. Stephen and Jarred were the front two on Cabin Antlers side. In the first minute of the war Stephen's right foot was pulled into the mud, and he wasn't fancying the idea of being covered head to toe. So Stephen whispered back to Jarred for a second and said "Are you with me?" "Absolutely" Jarred answered. So then Stephen let the rest of the team know what was on his mind. He hollered back, "If Cabin Antler takes the tug of war competition, Jarred and I will let you shave our heads." Now after a variety of pranks and just plain goofing off, the rest of the cabin was looking for something they could do to these two. Jarred would stick spiders, and crickets in pillow cases, while Stephen would short sheet the bunks. This happened almost every day. So naturally cheers rung throughout the line behind them and the rope started to move backwards. "Looks like you found the motivation you guys needed to win." Their cabin counselor Mike said. So with that in mind, Mike made them all another offer. "If Cabin Antler takes the most Gold medals, I'll let you guys shave my head too." More cheers roared from the Antler side and then with all their might there was tug one with a grunt, tug two with a grunt, and finally while tug three began to tumble Cabin Echo up and over their own feet into the mud, there was a loud slow thunderous battle cry. "Annntttllllerrrrrs!!!!!"
Cabin Antler took the Tug-of-war competition, and as promised Jarred and Stephen got their heads shaved. However the Antlers tied for first place with The Devil Dogs Cabin in all the rest of the games. Back at the cabin Mike pretended to be sorely disappointed in the failure of the Antler Cabin for having not completely won. He threw his arms in the air and exasperated in a long sigh "The Dooooooooogs?!? You tied with the 'D' Dogs!" I thought 'hey there's nothing wrong with us dogs', but he wasn't talking about me. You see, Mike had been prepping the guys every night with some really good motivational type speeches, and though he couldn't have been more proud for all the effort each boy put into the games, he was now pretending to chew them out for slacking so much, and kept telling them how close they were. And then just as most of the boys were looking down at the floor in disappointment of themselves , he quickly picked up something from under his pillow, and with his hands behind his back, like some kind of Drill Instructor Mike said "If you wimpy Antlers hadn't tried so hard, you wouldn't be able to enjoy this moment." The boys looked up wondering what he meant by that. And then he pulled from behind his back the barber shears. "Tied for first place, is STILL first place." There was a short pause of confusion from the boys, but then came the battle cry Mike had been teaching them the whole week before the Olympics. So they cried out and they all jump from their bunks in unison tackling and dog piling on top of Mike in the middle of the floor.
Mike only got one nick on his head from the shears. Stephen did it when Franky bumped his elbow. And it was funny to see his glowing white head come from behind his short curly hair. It kind of looked like a thin helmet with the rest of his face and neck tanned like it was. Mike had a picture taken of the three now bald guys from Cabin Antler. He took a grease pencil and wrote "A - N" on his head, "T - L" on Jarred head, and "E - R's" on Stephen's head. The three of them bowed their heads down for the photo. Mr. Brydare took a few more pic's of those three for the Wall Of Fame in the Chow Hall. There was one picture with the three of their heads poking out from behind a table with honey dews on it. You could just see their eyes peaking below their own melon heads.
Later that evening the Camp Olympics had it's winners award ceremony. Each year Mr. Brydare would make some wooden token type medals to pass out to the winners. He'd paint them Gold, Silver, and Bronze. Last year the medals were shaped like stars. This year the awards were in the traditional circular shape with some interesting designs carved in them. Mr. Brydare had just gotten himself some new tools and was ever so happy to test them out on the Medals. I even got an honorary Gold Dog Bone medal for helping out.
Camp was all but over.............
Henry the Dog.
The boys are going to CAMP. V
One week down, and one to go. Jarred and Stephen did well on their campsite stools. Stephen made his with three legs that were twined in the middle and then spread out looking like the top of a Tee-Pee. He then drilled holes on the seat base corners and then shaved and sanded off the ends of the legs to fit in those holes. Twine was wrapped and weaved around the triangular shaped seat. And when the stools were done Mr. Brydare, who was a stocky 215 lbs, would sit on each to test it out. If it could hold him, "it's gonna last" he would say. Jarred made his a little different. His had a square seat and crossed legs at opposite sides that were attached by a center pole. His seat was woven a bit different too. He wrapped twine around the entire seat in one direction and then wove under and over throughout the bottom and top. This made it pretty strong. For some boys it was the second stool they had made. Some kids would give them to their dads for fishing or camping. Others would just want another for a matched set. For those who still had theirs and didn't need or want another stool, they had the option of making something else. While all the younger kids were busy pounding away at the work shop (the far end of the chow hall) Jarred and Stephen's cabin counselor Mike was working on a "special project" this year. That's all he would say about it. He took measurements, and he cut and drilled and hammered, and measured again, and wove twine, and glued and cussed once when he hit is finger with the hammer. "Sawwy." he quickly replied with his finger now in his mouth and his left eye dripping one very large tear. I still don't understand why humans do that. I stub my paw now and then but I don't see the need to chew on it afterwards. Anyway, later that Saturday night, they all sat around the camp fire on their own stool telling their best (and worst) jokes. They made S'mores, and drank root-beer. There were a few contests that night for the loudest, longest, and most creative belches. At one point Stephen had a mini marshmallow up each nostril, in each ear and several in his mouth.
Mike finished his special project and then Saturday night, while most everybody else was chewing on marshmallows, Graham crackers and chocolate, he stood up and made an announcement. He pulled an odd looking stool out from behind a tree and said "I noticed that there was a camper that didn't have a stool. And was not able to make one for himself." For a second we thought that Mike might be talking about the kid with a broken arm. Because of his cast, he wasn't able to swim either. But then he was sitting on a stool. Mike went on "He has worked and helped around camp as much as he can so far this first week. He gave us all something to laugh about" he then pointed at Jarred then at Stephen and then pinched his nose in the pee-eew fashion. "This camper has retrieved our baseballs, Frisbee's, and boat ores. He was also one of the best players we had during Thursdays Rainy Day Football game." Camp would reserve the football game for the second Thursday or the first day that it rained too hard for anything else. "And he has not complained once about the 5 mile hikes. So I thought it only fitting to make this special stool for our first four legged camper, Henry. Come 'eer boy." The boys clapped and whistled for me. So, I trotted on over to Mike. He patted the top of the stool and said "Here ya go boy." I sniffed it. It smelled safe. I put a paw up on it and it didn't wobble. So I jumped on up. It was perfect. It was long enough for me to lay down on, but strong enough for me to sit on, and jump up onto it or off of it as well. Mike had used an extra wide twine and even braided pieces of that to make them bigger and thicker for my paws to rest on with out it hurting between my toes. Yes we dogs have toes! Sort of. He also made it so it could be folded up by the boys and stowed away. It had extra wide edges that were rounded for my head to rest on, and Mike even wove the twine a special way so that my name appeared on the seat. I loved it. I licked Mike on the chin and cheek, and then for the remaining week I slept at the foot of his bed. Stephen and Jarred shook Mikes hand and said thanks too. Mike picked at the boys quite a bit, but then he was the only boy in a house of 5 sisters. He couldn't pick on the girls like he could my guys. Not without his mom swatting him with the broom. And Stephen and Jarred's only real embarrassment while being picked on was when Mike snapped his towel at them, chasing their nakedness out of the shower and right into the path of the Camp Nurse. Who also happened to be the boys middle school nurse Miss Wilson. It wasn't anything she hadn't seen before, and this incident was much easier to deal with than the poor kid with poison ivy. He had to drop his drawers for the Nurse for some calamine lotion. How embarrassing. She even duct taped oven mitts on his hands so he wouldn't scratch himself in his sleep.
Sunday Morning all the boys met for breakfast. They ate, and then like every Sunday there was time set aside for all the boys to hear a story. Most often it would be a story from the Bible. Mr. Brydare said that even if you didn't believe the exact same things as others do, where the Bible was concerned anyway, it still wouldn't hurt to hear about some of the great historical figures that did great things. This particular Sunday Mr. Brydare read about Shadrac, Meshac, and Abednigo, and how they refused to bow down and worship some statue of a King. Even the one kid that was raised Hindu, was intrigued by the story. The fiery furnace and all. Later all the boys were encouraged to go to some part of the room and say a prayer or meditate for what ever they felt was on their hearts to pray about. That usually lasted only about 3 minutes, which sometimes seemed to be the equivalent of the attention span of a typical boy. Stephen prayed for quick escape from Jarred's revenge for putting hot sauce in his milk, and Jarred prayed for faster legs and the opportunity to give Stephen a Dutch rub he wouldn't soon forget.
After the chow hall was cleaned up, they were all off for a promised hike to the area that the new "girls" campsite would be. Now here is where we get the mixed emotions. Usually boys think alike. Mud is mud and it is fun. Food is food and it's good to eat. Girls are weird or sweet or have cooties or have nice features. The older guys are thinking yeeeee haaaaa, GIRLS. And the younger guys are thinking, awe man Girls?! Well the verdict will be out on that one for a long time, since boys change their minds as they get older. Mr. Brydare was just happy that his own little girls would have a place to go when they get older. And in the back of his mind he was wondering how to dig a 12 foot moat around the girls site and possibly put up electric fencing to keep the boys out. He just shook is head at the thought and kept walking.
......Camp Olympics Competition.
Henry the Dog.
Saturday, August 15, 2009
The boys are going to CAMP. IV
A few days later was log cutting day at camp. All the boys would spend a few hours cutting down some of the smaller dead trees. The woods around camp provided more than enough. Hundreds of acres of woods. Each year the "big" logs (as the younger boys would call them. None of them more than with 8 inches diameter.) would be rotated like stock, so that they were well seasoned for both the up coming wood crafts and the big bonfire on the last night of camp. The boys were paired up and each team given a two handed saw. Yep, that meant allot of logs. There were little bonfires each night too. Along with one open pit cook out each day. Jarred and Stephen were disappointed that they weren't getting an axe or a chain saw. But who were they kidding? I know that they'd end up acting like Paul Bunion or some kind of Mid-Evil lumber jack who was granted a gift from the future. In his terrible British accent, Stephen would say something like "I've the power to take down this, the Kings forest, and therefore should be crowned King." He should be crowned alright. Crowned King Ram-a lam-a Ding Dong. And Jarred would have only led him on more, by putting his two pence worth in. "Sir Stephen of Gruberland, might I, your lowly squire, be aloud to fill your hungry tree eater with petrol, which hasn't even been invented yet?!?" They'd both snicker, Stephen would pretend to beat his squire, the squire would rebel and take arms against his Lordship Sir Stephen, and.............. Well nothing but trouble could be gained by giving these two something they could so easily cut off a limb with.
Each team was to find 5 dead trees. Then, cut 'em, carry 'em, and stack 'em back at camp. No one was to wander off farther than being able to see the bright orange vest that their cabin counselors wore. "If you can't see a vest, stay where you are and call out for someone to find you." Mr. Brydare said. So of course, after about an hour, there was a search party looking for you know who. Jarred and Stephen wandered off, and I just had to follow. They are my humans after all. Oh yeah, they cut down their 5 trees. But left each one where it was to look for the next one they were going to cut, thereby forgetting where the one before it was. In all they ended up cutting down 16 trees, which eventually led the search party right to them. Although a happy reunion was not going to be occur on this occasion.
Stephen had spotted some deer droppings along side of some tracks and started to follow them. With each couple of yards they stepped they heard some rustling sounds and would wait and try to see what was moving. But nothing could be seen. They wandered east and then south and then east some more. They were about 2 miles away from the nearest cabin counselor when they saw them in the clearing. Seventeen deer. No antlers growing yet this year, but they could tell there were a couple of pretty big bucks out there. The boys crept slowly, closer and closer toward the herd, and actually ended up within 30 yards of a few of the doe's. In the hunting safety course that the boys took the winter before, they learned to stay down wind of what ever they might be hunting. So down wind it was. But as fate would have it unfortunately the candy bars the boys had stuffed in their pockets were up wind of something else. The boys were sitting on a log and kept hold of me while whispering back and forth. "Bang. Got-cha! Venison stew for dinner" Stephen whispered. "Doot doot doot doot bleeeeeeep. Target locked. Fire." Jarred whispered back. Then after sitting ever so quietly I caught a glimpse of something to our right. It was close and under a bush. So, well........."Bar-ar-ar-ar-ar-ar-ar." I told it to get away. These were our deer. Any you can't have 'em. And so, the deer ran away. Now I was mad. "Henry!?!" Stephen said disappointed. "You Goober." Jarred added. I ignored the boys and just continued to tell who ever was behind that bush who was boss. ME! The boys now looked over at the bush, the bush moved, I jumped back, and....the skunk turned, raised it's tail and, ewwwwwwwwwwwe yuck. It missed me, and well, it would take 5 separate tomato juice improved showers, and am out in the middle of the bivouac area sleeping arranged for Stephen and Jarred.
It took 2 days to get that stink off of the boys. I slept at the foot of Mikes bed while stinky and stinkier were outside. There was a special mosquito tent for them to sleep under but it was the smell that kept them up most of the first night. The second night wasn't so bad, but then they had to sleep both nights with out their sleeping bags other wise their bedding would stink. So it was out on two rickety old cots, wearing nothing but some extra large hospital gowns the camp nurse would bring each year for emergencies such as this. Everyone snickered at the boys for a few days, until their attention was turned to some camper from Tremble County that got poison ivy just below the belt after touching a tree he was just leaning on that was wrapped with the stuff and then taking relieving his kidneys shorty after.
One week down, and one to go.
Henry the Dog.
Each team was to find 5 dead trees. Then, cut 'em, carry 'em, and stack 'em back at camp. No one was to wander off farther than being able to see the bright orange vest that their cabin counselors wore. "If you can't see a vest, stay where you are and call out for someone to find you." Mr. Brydare said. So of course, after about an hour, there was a search party looking for you know who. Jarred and Stephen wandered off, and I just had to follow. They are my humans after all. Oh yeah, they cut down their 5 trees. But left each one where it was to look for the next one they were going to cut, thereby forgetting where the one before it was. In all they ended up cutting down 16 trees, which eventually led the search party right to them. Although a happy reunion was not going to be occur on this occasion.
Stephen had spotted some deer droppings along side of some tracks and started to follow them. With each couple of yards they stepped they heard some rustling sounds and would wait and try to see what was moving. But nothing could be seen. They wandered east and then south and then east some more. They were about 2 miles away from the nearest cabin counselor when they saw them in the clearing. Seventeen deer. No antlers growing yet this year, but they could tell there were a couple of pretty big bucks out there. The boys crept slowly, closer and closer toward the herd, and actually ended up within 30 yards of a few of the doe's. In the hunting safety course that the boys took the winter before, they learned to stay down wind of what ever they might be hunting. So down wind it was. But as fate would have it unfortunately the candy bars the boys had stuffed in their pockets were up wind of something else. The boys were sitting on a log and kept hold of me while whispering back and forth. "Bang. Got-cha! Venison stew for dinner" Stephen whispered. "Doot doot doot doot bleeeeeeep. Target locked. Fire." Jarred whispered back. Then after sitting ever so quietly I caught a glimpse of something to our right. It was close and under a bush. So, well........."Bar-ar-ar-ar-ar-ar-ar." I told it to get away. These were our deer. Any you can't have 'em. And so, the deer ran away. Now I was mad. "Henry!?!" Stephen said disappointed. "You Goober." Jarred added. I ignored the boys and just continued to tell who ever was behind that bush who was boss. ME! The boys now looked over at the bush, the bush moved, I jumped back, and....the skunk turned, raised it's tail and, ewwwwwwwwwwwe yuck. It missed me, and well, it would take 5 separate tomato juice improved showers, and am out in the middle of the bivouac area sleeping arranged for Stephen and Jarred.
It took 2 days to get that stink off of the boys. I slept at the foot of Mikes bed while stinky and stinkier were outside. There was a special mosquito tent for them to sleep under but it was the smell that kept them up most of the first night. The second night wasn't so bad, but then they had to sleep both nights with out their sleeping bags other wise their bedding would stink. So it was out on two rickety old cots, wearing nothing but some extra large hospital gowns the camp nurse would bring each year for emergencies such as this. Everyone snickered at the boys for a few days, until their attention was turned to some camper from Tremble County that got poison ivy just below the belt after touching a tree he was just leaning on that was wrapped with the stuff and then taking relieving his kidneys shorty after.
One week down, and one to go.
Henry the Dog.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
The boys are going to CAMP III
Later on that afternoon, after a best out of three row boat relay, and a ninety minute "Deep Woods Camping/Survival" class, the boys all had 1 hour before lunch to do what ever they chose but were to stay around the bivouac area. It didn't really qualify as a technical bivouac, but that's what they called it. Most of the counselors were encouraged to head off to their bunks for a quick nap. They alternated who would stay to watch the boys outside. Mostly it was to recharge for the next round of what ever classes, hikes, or games that were scheduled. Twelve to sixteen year old boys have a way of wearing out the eighteen year old young men who's daunting task was to keep them from killing themselves. You wouldn't think so, but when you are the watchful eye for 20 boys, it's the younger ones that wear you down. You know, the new kids that like to climb trees full of poison ivy, pick up rocks near a snake hole, and jump in puddles that turn out to be actually 1 to 2 feet deep. It takes a lot out of you, and it proved to be the determining factor for a few young men as to how soon he would be getting married and having kids of their own.
Stephen and Jarred brought a bag of marbles to camp, and having been pre-warned about the way that they play, started a regular game rather than a game of dare marbles. If you recall, dare marbles could get out of hand if you were the loser. You might have to kiss a cat-fish or de-pants your cabin counselor. Or have the cat-fish kiss the counselor. Or even put the cat-fish down the pants of the cabin counselor. (Those counselors had it ruff. Eh, not really. They actually started camp 2 days before the other kids got there, and left 3 day after the rest went home. This was mostly for preparations of the camp site and bunk houses. But they also got quite a bit of free time to swim, fish or do what ever.) Anyway, joined in by 3 others the boys began their game. Jarred divvied up the marbles amongst the five of them. Stephen grabbed a stick and scratched a circle in the dirt, and they each tossed in one large and one small marble. Frankie asked "Who goes first?" Jarred explained "In Gruberville we put our marbles in our pocket, we each pull one out in a closed fist and then someone calls out a color. Who ever has that color or the most of that color on their marble goes first and picks the order of who goes next. Is that okay with everyone?" The other boys never heard of this way but nodded and said "Sure" "That's okay by me." So they all dropped their stash in their pockets and each pulled out one hidden in their fist. Stephen instructed "Go ahead and call a color Gary." Gary said "blue". They all opened their hands. Red with yellow cats eye, green, clear with red swirl, purple and yellow/green were the colors. No winner. "Now what?" John asked. "Do it again." Jarred replied. "No biggie. Sometimes we have to do this a couple of times." They all reached in again and pulled out another marble. Everyone else looked at Gary again. "Oh uh, Red." he said. They each opened their hand. This time the colors were blue, purple with orange cats eye, green again, white with yellow dots, and a purie (clear through and through). This went on for about 5 minutes when John stopped them and said "Forget this." He turned and pointed at Gary on his right and went around the circle. "Einie Meinie Minie Moe. Catch a tiger by the toe. If he bites you let 'em go. Einie Meinie Minie Moe." and the second Moe landed on Jarred. "You go first Jarred." He said. Luckily John intervened. That color thing could have gone on for hours.
The boys played marbles until they heard lunch announced over the loud speakers. It was a bell chime followed by the cooks voice saying "Round 'em up. Lunch is on." Stephen and Jarred gathered up the marbles from the ground and others and tossed them in the bag. They sprinted for the bathroom to wash their hands, and popped in their cabin to leave the marbles and to wake their counselor Mike. "Mike!" "Hey Mike get up." Mike seemed to be a bit deep in sleepy town. Stephen bumped the foot of Mikes bunk "Hey Mike, you old dog fart, get up." No movement. I almost bit Stephen for the dog insult. Jarred was preoccupied with tying his shoe, but shouted out a "MIKE, you scurvy Dog. WAKE UP." Jarred I bit. He was closer! You'd think these two would get it when I bite them after insulting my race, uh breed, I , mean us dogs, er uh whatever. "Henry!" He yipped. Now forgetting the shoe, they both leaned in a bit toward Mike. "Is he even alive." Stephen snickered jokingly. They both laughed under their breath took a hard look at Mike and then looked up at each other. "I can't see him breathing." Jarred whispered over to Stephen. "Listen for a heartbeat." Stephen told Jarred. "I aint listening to a dead guys heart." He replied. Both their eyes got big for a second, and then they both leaned down toward Mike chest to see if he was............Mike jumped up and grabbed both of them around the neck. One in each arm. "Old dog fart Huh?!?" He said. "You two got me in a bit of trouble with your breakfast shenanigans this morning." He lightly bopped their heads together. "Star Spangled Banner Huh? You couldn't come up with something original?" He crossed his hands over top of their heads and tweaked both their noses. They both twisted and turned trying to get out of the hold, but Mike only tightened his grip. This was Mikes last year at camp. He had just graduated from Gruberville High. Mike was the all American kid. Football, Wrestling, and being raised on a farm, he had more muscle from hauling hay than most grown men. So two twelve year olds were not really any kind of match. "You too goof balls just might need a 'swirly' kind of lesson." "No NO" they shouted. "Mike we're sorry. Mike were SORRY." They said in unison. Mike thought for a second, raised an eyebrow and smiled, and then said "Say Mike is the greatest counselor on the planet." The two of them, caught in a tighter head lock, repeated it. Mike went on, "Say Jarred and Stephen are a couple of lunk heads." They repeated that too. "Say I - state your name." They repeated once again. "I state your name." Mike now stood up picked them both up off the floor by their heads. "Let's try that one again." He chuckled a bit letting their feet touch the floor again. "I Jarred" "I Stephen" they replied. "Do solemnly swear. " Mike continued "Do solemnly swear." They echoed. "To worship the ground that Mike walks on and obey his every command." The boys looked at one another and snickered. Mike squeezed their necks just a bit more. "To worship the ground that Mike walks on and obey his every command." They chimed in together with their faces getting a little bit pink. "And should I disobey Mike, I give him full permission to give me a swirly at his earliest convenience." "Ah Man." Stephen cried out. "Say it." Mike said tightening his squeeze a bit more on Stephen. "But Mike....." Jarred tried to interject. Mike now put a bit more squeeze on Jarred. "Say It. " If us dogs could laugh, I would have been rolling on the floor laughing my tail off. So instead I just jumped up and down and barked. 'Take 'em down Mike. Give 'em both a swirly.' I barked. "See. Even Henry agrees with me. So say it." Reluctantly they repeated the words. "And should I disobey Mike, I give him full permission to give me a swirly at his earliest convenience." "There." Mike said loosening his grip a bit but still holding on to make sure they didn't add something of there own. "That wasn't so bad, was it?" He bopped their heads together again, let them loose, and patted them both on the shoulders. "I think I like you two. You remind me of me, when I first came to camp." Mike challenged them to race the whole 20 steps to the Chow hall. Mike and I tied. I got a pat on the head from Mike. "Good job Henry. I like you too."
A few days later..........
Henry the Dog.
Stephen and Jarred brought a bag of marbles to camp, and having been pre-warned about the way that they play, started a regular game rather than a game of dare marbles. If you recall, dare marbles could get out of hand if you were the loser. You might have to kiss a cat-fish or de-pants your cabin counselor. Or have the cat-fish kiss the counselor. Or even put the cat-fish down the pants of the cabin counselor. (Those counselors had it ruff. Eh, not really. They actually started camp 2 days before the other kids got there, and left 3 day after the rest went home. This was mostly for preparations of the camp site and bunk houses. But they also got quite a bit of free time to swim, fish or do what ever.) Anyway, joined in by 3 others the boys began their game. Jarred divvied up the marbles amongst the five of them. Stephen grabbed a stick and scratched a circle in the dirt, and they each tossed in one large and one small marble. Frankie asked "Who goes first?" Jarred explained "In Gruberville we put our marbles in our pocket, we each pull one out in a closed fist and then someone calls out a color. Who ever has that color or the most of that color on their marble goes first and picks the order of who goes next. Is that okay with everyone?" The other boys never heard of this way but nodded and said "Sure" "That's okay by me." So they all dropped their stash in their pockets and each pulled out one hidden in their fist. Stephen instructed "Go ahead and call a color Gary." Gary said "blue". They all opened their hands. Red with yellow cats eye, green, clear with red swirl, purple and yellow/green were the colors. No winner. "Now what?" John asked. "Do it again." Jarred replied. "No biggie. Sometimes we have to do this a couple of times." They all reached in again and pulled out another marble. Everyone else looked at Gary again. "Oh uh, Red." he said. They each opened their hand. This time the colors were blue, purple with orange cats eye, green again, white with yellow dots, and a purie (clear through and through). This went on for about 5 minutes when John stopped them and said "Forget this." He turned and pointed at Gary on his right and went around the circle. "Einie Meinie Minie Moe. Catch a tiger by the toe. If he bites you let 'em go. Einie Meinie Minie Moe." and the second Moe landed on Jarred. "You go first Jarred." He said. Luckily John intervened. That color thing could have gone on for hours.
The boys played marbles until they heard lunch announced over the loud speakers. It was a bell chime followed by the cooks voice saying "Round 'em up. Lunch is on." Stephen and Jarred gathered up the marbles from the ground and others and tossed them in the bag. They sprinted for the bathroom to wash their hands, and popped in their cabin to leave the marbles and to wake their counselor Mike. "Mike!" "Hey Mike get up." Mike seemed to be a bit deep in sleepy town. Stephen bumped the foot of Mikes bunk "Hey Mike, you old dog fart, get up." No movement. I almost bit Stephen for the dog insult. Jarred was preoccupied with tying his shoe, but shouted out a "MIKE, you scurvy Dog. WAKE UP." Jarred I bit. He was closer! You'd think these two would get it when I bite them after insulting my race, uh breed, I , mean us dogs, er uh whatever. "Henry!" He yipped. Now forgetting the shoe, they both leaned in a bit toward Mike. "Is he even alive." Stephen snickered jokingly. They both laughed under their breath took a hard look at Mike and then looked up at each other. "I can't see him breathing." Jarred whispered over to Stephen. "Listen for a heartbeat." Stephen told Jarred. "I aint listening to a dead guys heart." He replied. Both their eyes got big for a second, and then they both leaned down toward Mike chest to see if he was............Mike jumped up and grabbed both of them around the neck. One in each arm. "Old dog fart Huh?!?" He said. "You two got me in a bit of trouble with your breakfast shenanigans this morning." He lightly bopped their heads together. "Star Spangled Banner Huh? You couldn't come up with something original?" He crossed his hands over top of their heads and tweaked both their noses. They both twisted and turned trying to get out of the hold, but Mike only tightened his grip. This was Mikes last year at camp. He had just graduated from Gruberville High. Mike was the all American kid. Football, Wrestling, and being raised on a farm, he had more muscle from hauling hay than most grown men. So two twelve year olds were not really any kind of match. "You too goof balls just might need a 'swirly' kind of lesson." "No NO" they shouted. "Mike we're sorry. Mike were SORRY." They said in unison. Mike thought for a second, raised an eyebrow and smiled, and then said "Say Mike is the greatest counselor on the planet." The two of them, caught in a tighter head lock, repeated it. Mike went on, "Say Jarred and Stephen are a couple of lunk heads." They repeated that too. "Say I - state your name." They repeated once again. "I state your name." Mike now stood up picked them both up off the floor by their heads. "Let's try that one again." He chuckled a bit letting their feet touch the floor again. "I Jarred" "I Stephen" they replied. "Do solemnly swear. " Mike continued "Do solemnly swear." They echoed. "To worship the ground that Mike walks on and obey his every command." The boys looked at one another and snickered. Mike squeezed their necks just a bit more. "To worship the ground that Mike walks on and obey his every command." They chimed in together with their faces getting a little bit pink. "And should I disobey Mike, I give him full permission to give me a swirly at his earliest convenience." "Ah Man." Stephen cried out. "Say it." Mike said tightening his squeeze a bit more on Stephen. "But Mike....." Jarred tried to interject. Mike now put a bit more squeeze on Jarred. "Say It. " If us dogs could laugh, I would have been rolling on the floor laughing my tail off. So instead I just jumped up and down and barked. 'Take 'em down Mike. Give 'em both a swirly.' I barked. "See. Even Henry agrees with me. So say it." Reluctantly they repeated the words. "And should I disobey Mike, I give him full permission to give me a swirly at his earliest convenience." "There." Mike said loosening his grip a bit but still holding on to make sure they didn't add something of there own. "That wasn't so bad, was it?" He bopped their heads together again, let them loose, and patted them both on the shoulders. "I think I like you two. You remind me of me, when I first came to camp." Mike challenged them to race the whole 20 steps to the Chow hall. Mike and I tied. I got a pat on the head from Mike. "Good job Henry. I like you too."
A few days later..........
Henry the Dog.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
The boys are going to CAMP II
The rules for camp were simple. At first they seemed tough and strict and practically impossible to follow, but after the first day you pretty much didn't even notice them. Stephen and Jarred thought for sure that they would end up in trouble their first year, but surprisingly there was not one single problem. No food in the cabins. That's rule number one. A lesson learned out in the fields while in the Corps. If you want a furry sleeping partner that just might bite you, go ahead and take some food to bed with you. All boys were fed well for 3 full meals and two snacks a day, so there was never anyone who felt the need to hide food in their locker or bed. Number two...No radios. This was for several reasons. There was enough going on that there was no need to be distracted by all that radio junk. If it was too loud during an emergency, instructions might not be heard. Besides, during certain times of the day, there was music broadcast over a loud speaker system. Like during lunch hour and during crafts that didn't require power tools. And should there be an emergency, the pa system would cut off the music and then broadcast the needed instructions. The speakers also played reveille at dawn, and taps at dusk. Told ya the Major liked things a bit militarily styled. Even though he was no longer there, certain traditions endured. A lot of things had a taste of the military but there was no marching or drill. This was camp after all, not boot camp. First thing in the morning, when reveille sounded, was clean up time. Get dressed, make your bunks, stow your things away, and then head off to breakfast. It was the cabin counselors job to run the broom across the floor each morning. Stephen and Jarred learned the year before that it was faster to help one another make their bunks up than to try and do their own individually. The requirement was to only have the covers pulled up and tucked in, but after a bunk making demonstration, most of the boys enjoyed making them military style. Jarred and Stephen were the first to get dressed, finish their bunks and be out the door that first morning. The cabin counselor was quite impressed. I don't know for sure, but I think that they practiced at home a few times the week before.
Everyone lined up inside the chow hall. It was first come, first served. But there would be order. And politeness was expected and most often observed. And there was no need to hurry to be first in line. There was always enough food for everyone. The Majors motto for the chow hall was, "NO ONE" walks away hungry. So there was always more than enough. After a day or two the cook would have a better idea as to how much to make so as not to waste food. I wasn't there the year before. I was a bit on the small side. But this year there wasn't very much wasted at all. I was more than happy to get a plate full of leftovers. Eggs, and bacon, and all sorts of good stuff.
When camp was first set up, it was the Majors wife Betty that was in charge of setting up the kitchen. She even ran it for the first 5 years. And if you think the Major was tough, Betty's dad was a 20 year veteran cook in the Navy, and Betty was trained to run a very tight ship, uh, I mean kitchen. After 3 surprise inspections by the health department the kitchen at Camp WB was presented an award of excellence by the State. And nothing has changed since. Top quality food, service and cleanliness that would make a bar of soap blush. Each year the kitchen help hired for the three months of summer, was pre-warned of the requirements they will have to live up to. And those who had worked that kitchen were often sought after for other jobs, because of their disciplined training and skills. 'Kitchen Duty Camp W.B.' was a good thing to have on your resume'.
So, it's the first morning of camp. All the boys are at breakfast. And as usual for boys, they are shoveling in the food. Then, Jarred winks over at Stephen who reaches behind Gary and taps John on the shoulder who picks up his glass of milk and makes a slurping sound which gets the attention of Frankie who then stands up and starts to sing the Star Spangled Banner. Everyone drops their forks and spoons, stands up and faces the flag, places their right hand over their hearts and joins in on the song. Even I stopped eating, and stood up at attention. I sing and all but, this is not one of my best songs. So I'll just stand and look proudly upon the Stars and Stripes. The song ended in a nice harmony, and a few Amen's. However this light hearted prank earned the Antler the first morning clean up. This meant plate scraping duty. But it was worth it. Jarred was seated where he had the best view to see when the most people would have a mouth full of food. The fun was watching the food particles fly from the others mouths while trying to sing. Every one finished up and headed out side for a quick 2 mile hike while table 13 (Stephen and Jarred's Table) went on to Stack - Carry - Pass - Sort - Scrape - Spray - and Load all the dishes. Twenty one tables, with approximately 140 plates, glasses, and a 3 piece flatware set with each. Wash the tables, sweep the floor, and secure the trash as was described on the duty roster. We were out in the woods after all. There were hungry critters out there. Food trash was put on a secured compost pile , about half a mile away, for future use on the landscaping. All other trash was hosed down, crushed and placed in a bear, racoon, and other critter safe container. In twenty some years there was not even one animal incident.
Later on that afternoon..............
Henry the Dog
Everyone lined up inside the chow hall. It was first come, first served. But there would be order. And politeness was expected and most often observed. And there was no need to hurry to be first in line. There was always enough food for everyone. The Majors motto for the chow hall was, "NO ONE" walks away hungry. So there was always more than enough. After a day or two the cook would have a better idea as to how much to make so as not to waste food. I wasn't there the year before. I was a bit on the small side. But this year there wasn't very much wasted at all. I was more than happy to get a plate full of leftovers. Eggs, and bacon, and all sorts of good stuff.
When camp was first set up, it was the Majors wife Betty that was in charge of setting up the kitchen. She even ran it for the first 5 years. And if you think the Major was tough, Betty's dad was a 20 year veteran cook in the Navy, and Betty was trained to run a very tight ship, uh, I mean kitchen. After 3 surprise inspections by the health department the kitchen at Camp WB was presented an award of excellence by the State. And nothing has changed since. Top quality food, service and cleanliness that would make a bar of soap blush. Each year the kitchen help hired for the three months of summer, was pre-warned of the requirements they will have to live up to. And those who had worked that kitchen were often sought after for other jobs, because of their disciplined training and skills. 'Kitchen Duty Camp W.B.' was a good thing to have on your resume'.
So, it's the first morning of camp. All the boys are at breakfast. And as usual for boys, they are shoveling in the food. Then, Jarred winks over at Stephen who reaches behind Gary and taps John on the shoulder who picks up his glass of milk and makes a slurping sound which gets the attention of Frankie who then stands up and starts to sing the Star Spangled Banner. Everyone drops their forks and spoons, stands up and faces the flag, places their right hand over their hearts and joins in on the song. Even I stopped eating, and stood up at attention. I sing and all but, this is not one of my best songs. So I'll just stand and look proudly upon the Stars and Stripes. The song ended in a nice harmony, and a few Amen's. However this light hearted prank earned the Antler the first morning clean up. This meant plate scraping duty. But it was worth it. Jarred was seated where he had the best view to see when the most people would have a mouth full of food. The fun was watching the food particles fly from the others mouths while trying to sing. Every one finished up and headed out side for a quick 2 mile hike while table 13 (Stephen and Jarred's Table) went on to Stack - Carry - Pass - Sort - Scrape - Spray - and Load all the dishes. Twenty one tables, with approximately 140 plates, glasses, and a 3 piece flatware set with each. Wash the tables, sweep the floor, and secure the trash as was described on the duty roster. We were out in the woods after all. There were hungry critters out there. Food trash was put on a secured compost pile , about half a mile away, for future use on the landscaping. All other trash was hosed down, crushed and placed in a bear, racoon, and other critter safe container. In twenty some years there was not even one animal incident.
Later on that afternoon..............
Henry the Dog
Monday, August 10, 2009
The boys are going to Camp - I
7 am, and Jarred tossed his sleeping bag and duffel bag into the trunk of Mr. Meyers' car. Stephen's gear was already in, and he was in the back seat fidgeting with his flash light. "Dad, can we stop at the store and pick up some batteries? My flash light is dead." Mr. Meyers rolled his eye's, nodded a quick yes, turned on the headlights and started the engine. Jarred jumped and slammed the hard to close trunk lid and hopped in the back seat. The boys were off to Camp Wunnie Brydare. Unlike the stories that were told by the older kids to scare the younger ones, camp was a lot of fun. Two weeks of swimming, and campfires, and hiking, and boat races, and crafts of every kind. None of that beaded bracelet stuff, or ceramic ashtrays. Real out doors type stuff. Like building your own camp stool with just some twine, tree branches, and a hatchet. And it was sturdy and strong. Some of the older boys in the neighborhood have the stools they made from years ago. Anyway, there would be nature scavenger hunts, where they would look for animal bones and bird feathers, specific tree leafs and seeds. In Gruberville, as I'm sure it was in other towns, summer camp was one of those things the teen boys looked forward to every year. For those just turning twelve there was a steady fear in them from the stories, until about the second or third day when you were let in on the secret. And then you were sworn to keep the secret "Until you Die". It was all for fun. Still there was an actual mock kind of ritual on the last night, where they drank fruit punch and were told that should they ever tell any tale that did not scare the heebie jeebies out of those who listened (younger boys), the fruit punch would turn into blood and thus turn them into a hermit. Hairy body, long fingernails, dear hides for clothes, and really smelly. The story telling was pretty much the only consistent tradition that Camp Wunnie Brydare had. Major Brian Brydare had told stories to his grandsons for two years while he worked on the camp. Bears, the Hermit, and a variety of other tall tales that came and went through out the years. Hard telling just how much of the stories were true. And no one really expected the tradition to be what it is today. It just some how grew and stayed around.
Mr. Meyers dropped Stephen and Jarred off at the High School parking lot, where the bus would take them from there to camp. Quite a few boys from town were going. This would be Jarred and Stephen's second year, so excitedly they looked around for any new guys. At first glance they saw only one new kid there. But then Camp W.B. had visitors from around 6 counties. So there were bound to be more new comers, or sometimes referred to as Fresh Lunch Meat (for the bears) that would be coming. Earlier Stephen has said "Wouldn't it just stink if there were no new kids there?" "There better be some there." Jarred said looking ever so forward to a night or two of torturing other kids. After all the boys were tortured on their first visit. Mr. Meyers tossed Stephen a pack of batteries saying "Don't go wasting those now. They have to last for two weeks." He turned back toward the bag from the hardware store, and spoke under his breath "Eh, who am I kidding?" and reached in and pulled out another pack of the "D" sized and tossed them out the window. "You guys be good." He smiled. Then with a dramatically quick drop of his brow he added "OR ELSE." He smiled again, told the boys he loved them, and drove off. Just about every other boy heard Mr. Meyers say those three words "I Love You." But there wasn't a single boy there that would say a word about it. They all new that their dads did the same thing, and it was nothing to be embarrassed about. "All right you Turkeys" came from behind the bull horn. "Load up your gear and lets get rolling." It was Brian Brydare the 3rd. He was driving the bus. Being one of Major Brydare's grandsons who was first to stay at the camp, he truly enjoyed running the show now that The Major was retired. "Who's this?" Brian asked reaching down to scratch my head. "It's our dog, Henry." the boys chimed in unison. "You two don't look like brothers!?!" He said inquisitively. I moved my head a little to the left to help him get that one good spot. My left paw began it's happy dance...'There ya go. That's a good boy. Keep on a-scratchin'. "We're not brothers." they replied still in perfect step with each others voices. "We just both share Henry." Brian raised an eyebrow, and then waved his hands toward the bus door. Strange, he thought. They don't look alike but they sound like twins.
The bus load of boys rounded several curves going up and down hills. They crossed a total of 11 bridges, passed by 21 churches, and saw a grand total of 75 deer. I still wonder about that total. After all, I was hanging my head out the window I could smell them deer long before those boys could see 'em, and I only remember smelling about 46. So I'm thinking that this might be one of those "I caught a fish thiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis big" exaggerations. But boys'll be boys. They sang song after song. Twenty three rounds of row, row, row your boat. Thankfully only one round of "99 Jugs of root beer on the wall" was bellowed out. I don't think I could have taken even one more bottle. By the time it was down to 40 bottles, Eddie McGumfrey's voice was crackin' and squeekin' and turning my ears inside out. I buried my head between Stephen and Jarred on the seat. I think one of them had too much protein for dinner the night before, but my ears were more important at that moment. "What's a matter boy?" Jarred asked. Stephen reached down and gave me a quick neck massage, but all I could think was, I wanted the so called singing to stop.
Two hours and 26 minutes later we arrived at Camp. Cabin assignments were called out like role call. Mr. Brian would most often split up the towns kids and intermix them in the cabins so they could get better acquainted with other boys and not form home town groups. However he decided to keep Jarred and Stephen together because of me. They were given instructions on the location and use of scooper's. And since I had come with a good report about being such a good camper, scooping was pretty much "it" on the rules for me. We were sent off to Cabin "A" for Antler. It was decorated with every kind of antler and horn you can imagine. And luckily for the boys, it was the closest cabin to the community bathroom/showers. There was Cabin "B" for Bear. That one had a huge stuffed Black Bear toward the back. And Cabin "C" for Camouflage. Each cabin represented a name and each was also to be your team names for future competitions. So you had The Antlers, The Bears, The Cami's, The Dogs, (Also known as the Devil Dogs, a nick name given to the Marine Corps by the Germans.). I should have been in that cabin. There was The Echo cabin, named for the infamous echo in the Hermit Cave, and finally The Forest cabin. Six large cabins in all. Each with 21 bunks and a foot locker for each. Ten sets of bunks for the boys and one for the Cabin Counselor. The Major had liked the military feel of things. When it came to keeping things tidy, the Major insisted it be done like the Corps. In the center of the grounds was the Main Building. It was the rec center, chow hall, and storm shelter (which was in the food cellar). And then there were the rules............
Henry the Dog.
Mr. Meyers dropped Stephen and Jarred off at the High School parking lot, where the bus would take them from there to camp. Quite a few boys from town were going. This would be Jarred and Stephen's second year, so excitedly they looked around for any new guys. At first glance they saw only one new kid there. But then Camp W.B. had visitors from around 6 counties. So there were bound to be more new comers, or sometimes referred to as Fresh Lunch Meat (for the bears) that would be coming. Earlier Stephen has said "Wouldn't it just stink if there were no new kids there?" "There better be some there." Jarred said looking ever so forward to a night or two of torturing other kids. After all the boys were tortured on their first visit. Mr. Meyers tossed Stephen a pack of batteries saying "Don't go wasting those now. They have to last for two weeks." He turned back toward the bag from the hardware store, and spoke under his breath "Eh, who am I kidding?" and reached in and pulled out another pack of the "D" sized and tossed them out the window. "You guys be good." He smiled. Then with a dramatically quick drop of his brow he added "OR ELSE." He smiled again, told the boys he loved them, and drove off. Just about every other boy heard Mr. Meyers say those three words "I Love You." But there wasn't a single boy there that would say a word about it. They all new that their dads did the same thing, and it was nothing to be embarrassed about. "All right you Turkeys" came from behind the bull horn. "Load up your gear and lets get rolling." It was Brian Brydare the 3rd. He was driving the bus. Being one of Major Brydare's grandsons who was first to stay at the camp, he truly enjoyed running the show now that The Major was retired. "Who's this?" Brian asked reaching down to scratch my head. "It's our dog, Henry." the boys chimed in unison. "You two don't look like brothers!?!" He said inquisitively. I moved my head a little to the left to help him get that one good spot. My left paw began it's happy dance...'There ya go. That's a good boy. Keep on a-scratchin'. "We're not brothers." they replied still in perfect step with each others voices. "We just both share Henry." Brian raised an eyebrow, and then waved his hands toward the bus door. Strange, he thought. They don't look alike but they sound like twins.
The bus load of boys rounded several curves going up and down hills. They crossed a total of 11 bridges, passed by 21 churches, and saw a grand total of 75 deer. I still wonder about that total. After all, I was hanging my head out the window I could smell them deer long before those boys could see 'em, and I only remember smelling about 46. So I'm thinking that this might be one of those "I caught a fish thiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis big" exaggerations. But boys'll be boys. They sang song after song. Twenty three rounds of row, row, row your boat. Thankfully only one round of "99 Jugs of root beer on the wall" was bellowed out. I don't think I could have taken even one more bottle. By the time it was down to 40 bottles, Eddie McGumfrey's voice was crackin' and squeekin' and turning my ears inside out. I buried my head between Stephen and Jarred on the seat. I think one of them had too much protein for dinner the night before, but my ears were more important at that moment. "What's a matter boy?" Jarred asked. Stephen reached down and gave me a quick neck massage, but all I could think was, I wanted the so called singing to stop.
Two hours and 26 minutes later we arrived at Camp. Cabin assignments were called out like role call. Mr. Brian would most often split up the towns kids and intermix them in the cabins so they could get better acquainted with other boys and not form home town groups. However he decided to keep Jarred and Stephen together because of me. They were given instructions on the location and use of scooper's. And since I had come with a good report about being such a good camper, scooping was pretty much "it" on the rules for me. We were sent off to Cabin "A" for Antler. It was decorated with every kind of antler and horn you can imagine. And luckily for the boys, it was the closest cabin to the community bathroom/showers. There was Cabin "B" for Bear. That one had a huge stuffed Black Bear toward the back. And Cabin "C" for Camouflage. Each cabin represented a name and each was also to be your team names for future competitions. So you had The Antlers, The Bears, The Cami's, The Dogs, (Also known as the Devil Dogs, a nick name given to the Marine Corps by the Germans.). I should have been in that cabin. There was The Echo cabin, named for the infamous echo in the Hermit Cave, and finally The Forest cabin. Six large cabins in all. Each with 21 bunks and a foot locker for each. Ten sets of bunks for the boys and one for the Cabin Counselor. The Major had liked the military feel of things. When it came to keeping things tidy, the Major insisted it be done like the Corps. In the center of the grounds was the Main Building. It was the rec center, chow hall, and storm shelter (which was in the food cellar). And then there were the rules............
Henry the Dog.
Saturday, August 08, 2009
Mr. McKillip dot com.
Now and then I take a stroll through the net, just randomly looking for other blogs that seem to have my kind of mentality. Product of the 80's. Cartoons, Music, and more knowledge of pop culture than is needed. I found just such a site at " brendanmckillip.com ". This site is Brendans own daily journal. This guy is articulate, funny and seemingly real. A man with a happy looking family by a quick glance at some parade pics. I haven't read all of his journal, but plan to get back to it often. Dating back to 2002, I'll have plenty to read. Pretty cool to find a similar mind set.
Camp Wunnie-Brydare and the cave of screams.
"Camp Hunting Night Bear might be a bit more accurate." Stephen said, his eyes wide, slowly turning to look behind him in the direction of Camp Wunnie-Brydare. "There are bears in them there woods. With huge claws and huge teeth." He finished in a thick southern accent. The other boys sitting on the dock just watched and listened on with a touch of wonderment and fear. "I heard it was once called Camp Running Night Mare" Jarred started "There's some old hermit living out there and he chases kids into his caaaaave............... and they never returrrrrrrrn. Some say that they have even seen the hermit in Gruberville." The Jenkins kid was startled by a quick snag on his fishing line and screeched out a short "Ahhhhh!". Everyone else jumped a bit, then Jarred gave him a poke in the arm for startling him too. It was getting a bit late and the sun was dropping lower behind the trees now. Jarred and Stephen had planned a boys only camp out over at the pond. They invited several other boys, but only four boys showed up. The Jenkins kid showed along with Viola's little brother Donald, Stephen's brother James and Fast Freddy showed up singing some goofy little song about peanuts and popcorn on a wintery night. And now for the first time in a long time Freddy was kept silent by the stories of Camp Wunnie-Brydare. The Camp was originally opened in 1968, by Retired Marine Corps Major Brian Brydare. The Major had looked for a summer camp to send he grandsons to for a couple of weeks. He would say "Nothing builds character like ruffing it for a while". When he could find nothing with in 200 miles, he made a final decision as to where he would spend the money his late mother Wunnifred Brydare left to him. Wunnie was an entrepreneur. After years of experimenting she had her own company that rivaled Betty Crocker; Recipe's were her passion, and talent. She could make anything taste good. And yeah, it was supposed to be Winifred with an "I" not a "U". No one really knows what happened to her name. Some friends called Wun, some Wunnie and others even Bunnie. So on a warm sunny day while lying in his hammock, "I'll build the camp myself." The major said standing up from his afternoon nap in a waking revelation. His grandsons were 10 at the time, and two years later Camp Wunnie-Brydare was open to all boys 12 to 18. What about dogs? Can dogs come? I wanna go and see what a bear looks like; Huge claws?!? Yeah right. These two boys are making that up. Bears are probably no bigger than that squirrel I chased up the tree in Mrs. Knorr's yard.
Still sitting at the dock, with the younger boys fishing lines still in the water, Stephen continued weaving a tale of suspense and slight horror "The kid ran and ran through the woods but no matter which way he'd go he would always end up right back at the camp fire. He never ran into any of his friends either." Stephen voice got a little lower. "Finally he decide to try and hide near the camp fire and hope that the hermit would just give up or look somewhere else. So he backed into the small opening of a hollowed out tree and stood up inside. He had to step on tip toe to look out a small peep hole that was made by some bird. And then he started to wait. And wait. And wait. Eventually the kid fell asleep." The others boys breathed a little sigh of relief. James checked his fishing line for the fifth time in 2 minutes. "Leave it in there you dolt." Stephen said popping him on the brim of his hat. Stephen was trying to teach James the patients of fishing. "Whathappenedtothatkid?" Freddy asked. "Well.....after a while he woke up and it was dark. He tried to move but felt like the tree had shrunk down over his body. He could feel air move on his face, but he couldn't see anything. He softly said 'Hello?', and 1 second later there was a hello that came back. It sounded like another kid. He thought maybe one of his buddies got away, and was calling back to him. He tried hard but couldn't see anything. Not even the night sky. He thought it must be really cloudy out if he couldn't even see any stars. He said hello again, and again hello was called back. But he was afraid to say to much more. He heard some rocks and sticks rustling noises in the distance, and they seemed to be coming closer. He hoped that one of his friends was coming. The noises came closer and then he heard some sticks being dropped. His friend must be getting ready to light a fire he thought. But what he couldn't figure out was how long he had been asleep before now, becuase the camp fire was going real good when he backed into the tree." Stephen looked around at all the other kids faces and could tell they were all pretty intrigued. He gave a little side wink to Jarred, who then stood up and said "I gotta go take a leek." Stephen continued. "The noises sounded like someone was now walking away. So the kid said hello one more time. And once again the hello came back. This time he added 'where are you?' and the response that came back......" Stephen paused for a second and looked around cautious like. Around the pond was only a light glow of dark blue in the sky now and many stars could be seen." ......was 'where are you?'. The kid recognized the voice this time. It was his own voice. He was hearing himself call back. It was his echo, and HE.... Was In The Cave of Screams." James made a slight gasping sound. Donald moved an inch closer toward Freddy who now had a death grip on his fishing pole. Stephen looked up and away from the boys once again and bringing his eyebrows down said "Where's Jarred?!? He should be back by now." The other four look around a bit but didn't offer any suggestions. Stephen changed his face expression again raising his brows up high and shrugging his shoulders slightly and continued like 'no big deal'. "Anyway, still unable to move the kid closed his eyes real tight hoping that when he opened them again he would be able to see even a little bit of light, but instead he saw nothing. Nothing but pitch blackness. Then after a little while he heard the noises again. Coming Closer And Closer. Then, they seemed to stop right in front of him. 'Hello?' he said trying hard to see anything at all. " The boys all heard a sound in the water, and every single fishing pole came flying out like a whip. Another gasp, but this time from the Jenkins kid. (Still can't think of what his first name is?)
Stephen went on with the story "Then the kid heard a scratching sound and saw a spark, then another scratch and spark, and yet another until on the fourth scratch a single match burned into a flame. The kid squinted his eyes from the brightness of the flame after being in the dark for so long. Then, as his eyes came into focus...." Stephen looked around and behind himself this time. "There He Was. Standing right in front of the kid. It was the hermit." The other four boys looked at one another with eyes wide open. There was a small sense of fear, but more so was the anticipation to what was coming next. "The hermit and the kid just stared at each other for almost a full minute. The match was burning kind of low, so the hermit tossed it onto the pile of sticks that was about 4 feet away. They continued to look into each others eyes, when the kid said 'he-he-hello?!?'. The hermit raised his eyebrows, turned his head toward the fire, and snapped it back over to the kid and said..." Just then Jarred came jumping out of the water with his arms flapping around and screamed. "YOU WANT TO MAKE SOME S'MORES?" Almost jumping out of their skin, the four younger boys screamed jumping up and running into each other with their fishing poles whipping about. James got a hook in his shorts and yelped like...well like a dog would. Just like I would have. Stephen was laughing so hard that he lost his balance at the edge of the dock and fell back into and under the water. The younger guys calmed down just long enough for Stephen to come flying up out of the water screaming "S'MORES S'MORES" causing an all new frenzy. Me? I just laid there. I heard the rehearsal the night before. Yeah, it scared me too.
Henry the dog.
Still sitting at the dock, with the younger boys fishing lines still in the water, Stephen continued weaving a tale of suspense and slight horror "The kid ran and ran through the woods but no matter which way he'd go he would always end up right back at the camp fire. He never ran into any of his friends either." Stephen voice got a little lower. "Finally he decide to try and hide near the camp fire and hope that the hermit would just give up or look somewhere else. So he backed into the small opening of a hollowed out tree and stood up inside. He had to step on tip toe to look out a small peep hole that was made by some bird. And then he started to wait. And wait. And wait. Eventually the kid fell asleep." The others boys breathed a little sigh of relief. James checked his fishing line for the fifth time in 2 minutes. "Leave it in there you dolt." Stephen said popping him on the brim of his hat. Stephen was trying to teach James the patients of fishing. "Whathappenedtothatkid?" Freddy asked. "Well.....after a while he woke up and it was dark. He tried to move but felt like the tree had shrunk down over his body. He could feel air move on his face, but he couldn't see anything. He softly said 'Hello?', and 1 second later there was a hello that came back. It sounded like another kid. He thought maybe one of his buddies got away, and was calling back to him. He tried hard but couldn't see anything. Not even the night sky. He thought it must be really cloudy out if he couldn't even see any stars. He said hello again, and again hello was called back. But he was afraid to say to much more. He heard some rocks and sticks rustling noises in the distance, and they seemed to be coming closer. He hoped that one of his friends was coming. The noises came closer and then he heard some sticks being dropped. His friend must be getting ready to light a fire he thought. But what he couldn't figure out was how long he had been asleep before now, becuase the camp fire was going real good when he backed into the tree." Stephen looked around at all the other kids faces and could tell they were all pretty intrigued. He gave a little side wink to Jarred, who then stood up and said "I gotta go take a leek." Stephen continued. "The noises sounded like someone was now walking away. So the kid said hello one more time. And once again the hello came back. This time he added 'where are you?' and the response that came back......" Stephen paused for a second and looked around cautious like. Around the pond was only a light glow of dark blue in the sky now and many stars could be seen." ......was 'where are you?'. The kid recognized the voice this time. It was his own voice. He was hearing himself call back. It was his echo, and HE.... Was In The Cave of Screams." James made a slight gasping sound. Donald moved an inch closer toward Freddy who now had a death grip on his fishing pole. Stephen looked up and away from the boys once again and bringing his eyebrows down said "Where's Jarred?!? He should be back by now." The other four look around a bit but didn't offer any suggestions. Stephen changed his face expression again raising his brows up high and shrugging his shoulders slightly and continued like 'no big deal'. "Anyway, still unable to move the kid closed his eyes real tight hoping that when he opened them again he would be able to see even a little bit of light, but instead he saw nothing. Nothing but pitch blackness. Then after a little while he heard the noises again. Coming Closer And Closer. Then, they seemed to stop right in front of him. 'Hello?' he said trying hard to see anything at all. " The boys all heard a sound in the water, and every single fishing pole came flying out like a whip. Another gasp, but this time from the Jenkins kid. (Still can't think of what his first name is?)
Stephen went on with the story "Then the kid heard a scratching sound and saw a spark, then another scratch and spark, and yet another until on the fourth scratch a single match burned into a flame. The kid squinted his eyes from the brightness of the flame after being in the dark for so long. Then, as his eyes came into focus...." Stephen looked around and behind himself this time. "There He Was. Standing right in front of the kid. It was the hermit." The other four boys looked at one another with eyes wide open. There was a small sense of fear, but more so was the anticipation to what was coming next. "The hermit and the kid just stared at each other for almost a full minute. The match was burning kind of low, so the hermit tossed it onto the pile of sticks that was about 4 feet away. They continued to look into each others eyes, when the kid said 'he-he-hello?!?'. The hermit raised his eyebrows, turned his head toward the fire, and snapped it back over to the kid and said..." Just then Jarred came jumping out of the water with his arms flapping around and screamed. "YOU WANT TO MAKE SOME S'MORES?" Almost jumping out of their skin, the four younger boys screamed jumping up and running into each other with their fishing poles whipping about. James got a hook in his shorts and yelped like...well like a dog would. Just like I would have. Stephen was laughing so hard that he lost his balance at the edge of the dock and fell back into and under the water. The younger guys calmed down just long enough for Stephen to come flying up out of the water screaming "S'MORES S'MORES" causing an all new frenzy. Me? I just laid there. I heard the rehearsal the night before. Yeah, it scared me too.
Henry the dog.
Saturday, August 01, 2009
Boys of Gruberville Poem - Lessons of Life
The day started nice, with a marble rolled thrice, cause do overs were part of the game.
And nobody won, it was all just for fun, because winning was just for the fame.
Stephen’s mom called him home, to ask ‘bout the gnome, a rock hit while cutting the grass.
Only scratching some paint, Stephen fixed, what a saint, other wise it would be his butt.
Asking dad for a ride, Jarred caught from the side, a key tossed high through the air.
A mini bike, new? No, actually used, but awesome the boys would declare.
Jarred picked up his Bud, they drove through the mud, all over the town did they ride.
Up hills and back down, past the mayor of thier town, and most of the laws they’d abide.
Taking turns they drove ‘round, jumping over a mound, landing almost with perfect of ease.
The other did try, and got a gnat in his eye, landing close to a hive full of bee’s.
Past the girls they did scoot, engine noise making mute, the hollers of each of the BOB
Had they stopped they’d have heard, almost every word, from ‘boys stink’ to ‘all boys are a slob’
None-the-less they had fun, errand’s for mom’s they did run, to neighbors and off to the store.
They then took a break, eating lunch with a shake, planning next they would go to the shore.
To the pond they did go, not too fast or too slow, for some fishing and maybe a dip.
Jarred yelled “Park by the dock”, then “Look Out For That ROCK!”, too late for this last second tip.
The rock, it was big, breaks and feet they did dig, trying hard to control their stop.
Swerving left and then right, holding on with all might, but too late, in the water they’d ker-plop.
The dip turned to splash, in sort of a crash, all in a day in the life.
Jarred was gearing, while Stephen was steering, off the end of the dock, oh what strife.
Bike pulled out on the West, disappointed at best, the fun to a halt it did screech.
Maybe now it’d be clearing, One works both gears and steering, the lesson that life was to teach.
It took weeks but they worked, fixing back what they jerked, once again the bike they’d enjoy.
They learned more than they thought, ‘bout engines and the lot, lessons easily learned as a boy.
And nobody won, it was all just for fun, because winning was just for the fame.
Stephen’s mom called him home, to ask ‘bout the gnome, a rock hit while cutting the grass.
Only scratching some paint, Stephen fixed, what a saint, other wise it would be his butt.
Asking dad for a ride, Jarred caught from the side, a key tossed high through the air.
A mini bike, new? No, actually used, but awesome the boys would declare.
Jarred picked up his Bud, they drove through the mud, all over the town did they ride.
Up hills and back down, past the mayor of thier town, and most of the laws they’d abide.
Taking turns they drove ‘round, jumping over a mound, landing almost with perfect of ease.
The other did try, and got a gnat in his eye, landing close to a hive full of bee’s.
Past the girls they did scoot, engine noise making mute, the hollers of each of the BOB
Had they stopped they’d have heard, almost every word, from ‘boys stink’ to ‘all boys are a slob’
None-the-less they had fun, errand’s for mom’s they did run, to neighbors and off to the store.
They then took a break, eating lunch with a shake, planning next they would go to the shore.
To the pond they did go, not too fast or too slow, for some fishing and maybe a dip.
Jarred yelled “Park by the dock”, then “Look Out For That ROCK!”, too late for this last second tip.
The rock, it was big, breaks and feet they did dig, trying hard to control their stop.
Swerving left and then right, holding on with all might, but too late, in the water they’d ker-plop.
The dip turned to splash, in sort of a crash, all in a day in the life.
Jarred was gearing, while Stephen was steering, off the end of the dock, oh what strife.
Bike pulled out on the West, disappointed at best, the fun to a halt it did screech.
Maybe now it’d be clearing, One works both gears and steering, the lesson that life was to teach.
It took weeks but they worked, fixing back what they jerked, once again the bike they’d enjoy.
They learned more than they thought, ‘bout engines and the lot, lessons easily learned as a boy.
Henry the Dog.
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