Congratulations to ALL!

The last couple of weeks has given us some of the best entertainment around! Although not everyone can receive a medal, everyone can be proud of the effort, time and sacrifice that it takes to compete at this level in the world. To all that medalled, congratulations! To all that didn't, stand tall, stand proud, you are at world class level.

Thank you for the effort and entertainment!

And what did you think of the Gold Medal Game in Ice Hockey???   'Way to go Canada!!

A Real life Situation

This is a letter written to a good friend of mine (used with permission) from his son. I cleaned up some names and industry, but it shows the level of stress present in the workforce of the 21st century. I remember the days he is writing about from the 70's, 80's and see today that nothing much has changed. The almighty dollar rules both in the board room, the stock market, and people's personal choices. I am not judging. I am simply pointing out that life is still a rat race in the 21st century.

Why Did I Quit Flying?

The question that some readers were asking is a good one! When we made the decision to retire early and move to Whitecourt, the die was cast. After 2 years living in town, we made the decision to purchase an acreage. This meant that all the equity that we had in the previous house was applied to the purchase. We were still tight on cash, so sold a bunch of stuff to make it happen with a very small mortgage. Once the decision was made to get the horses there was a shortage of both time and cash that said flying had to take a backseat. The above plane is a 1933 Pietenpol that I scratch built from a copy of the original plans. It was my intent to complete it, retire, and fly around the country side. The reason for building the plane was to reduce the exhorbitant cost of flying, by eliminating the major capital involved in buying a plane, and the fact that as a builder, I could do my own maintenance. The picture is about 10 years old when I was 65 pounds heavier, and the plane was a work in progress for 10 years. It was a tough decision to sell it as it basically only needed a bit of engine work and the covering. It has since sold again.

The main reasons for selling were the Acreage, the high cost of flying, and a shift in interests to life on the acreage. Some of the best people that I have met over the years were pilots. Do I regret giving it up? You betcha I do. However, for every season there is time to move on.

(Click on picture to enlarge)

An Official End

I was poking around the shed today looking for some ice fishing stuff when I came across my old flight briefcase. How fast time flys! It seems like only yesterday that I achieved a boyhood dream of learning to fly an airplane. The log book tells a different story. I got my student permit on 16/08/89 and achieved the rating of Private Pilot 06/11/90, and picked up a night rating 03/04/92.

The learning experience was terrific. Concentration, perseverance and conquering fear were the three things i remember well. Later on, I became a director of the local flying club and found some interesting stats while poking through the racks of log books in storage. For every 1000 students that started flying only 100 got their Private Licence. Of those 1000, only one managed to get a Commercial licence. In Canada, it is compulsory to be able to recover from a fully enveloped spin on command. The majority that left the program, left for the fear factor of spinning. I almost quit at this point, but being a stubborn type guy, I stuck it out. On the flight exam, I was asked to recover from a spin out of a right turn. I had never done one of these from a right turn so I "cheated" a bit and used the instruments to maintain orientation. That is one flight test I will never forget.

Looking through the log book, my first experience with carburettor icing occurred over Iroquois Falls, Ontario. I was at 4000 feet agl and 6 miles from the airport when the engine began to sputter and shake and cough and almost sneeze. Too far to glide, over forest, pull carb heat and then really begin to shake. I dropped about 2000 feet, had a clearing picked out to put it in when it recovered. Lesson learned! watch temperature for icing conditions. Pay attention!

My first long solo was from Iroquois Falls to Moosonnee on James Bay. In a Cessna 150, it should have been about a 3 1/2 hour flight. Due to a fast moving cold front, it took 5 hours, which put me at minimal fuel reserves. I'm at 5500 foot approaching Moosonee when I see this humungous fog bank right where the airport should have been! Now what? No fuel for a return, no alternate landing site other than a rail road track about 20 miles away. As I got closer, I could see the fog bank was in effect, reflection off the ice on James bay. This was the end of July. I didn't expect ice fog! The landing was uneventful and the refueller was kind enough not to comment on the very low fuel level.

I guess everyone who flys pushes the limits now and again. One day I decided to see what the world looked like from 12,500 feet. It seemed to take forever to climb up there, and then did I ever feel small. Here is a cessna 150 with a monocoque construction which means that if you took the skin off the aircraft, there was nothing left. I stayed there for 20 minutes or so, just cruising and viewing. I am sure that Timmons radio had other students do this, as they left me in peace. It defintely gives you a feeling of the awareness of God!

Cruising up the Abitibi River in winter at 50 feet elevation is another fond memory! If the engine had quit it would have been a landing on the river ice. No big deal, But with flaps down, nose down and banking and twisting down the river it was one of the best memories of flying. This was not particularly legal, but....

Alas, as I browsed through my log book, I noted that I have not flown for six years which says that my flying days are past, but the memories remain.

We have now moved on to horses, chickens and the like and someday will likely have to look back and say "that too was fun".

Sorry to get so nostalgic!

Are We Going to Learn?

Yesterday was my overdo trip to the barber to see if I still had ears. Apparently I do as I overheard one of the local realtors and a banker (I think) talking about the effects of the recession on the community  specifically and the country in general. It appears that 25% of all mortgages are in arrears by more than 90 days. This was mind boggling to me, and I got some very tired brain cells and synapses working overtime trying to figure out this question. "What are we going to learn from this recession and how are we going to change? Or are we going to change?" I guess that  is actually three questions, not one.If 25% of all home owners are facing repossession, are those people going to sit back, assess what they have done, and change? Or are they going to start the run on materialism once the economy turns? Are we as a nation going to learn? Or repeat the same mistakes over and over again? Credit is easy, repayment is difficult. A  loan of $5000 on a credit card will take something like 35 years to repay when making the minimum payment. Will the banks still push people further into debt by encouraging more "easy" loans?Will we still eagerly accept 0 down and 30 years to pay?

I knew a couple of folks that got through the Great Depression by living on snared rabbits. They learned! it took one fellow about three years and lots of haggling to wear down the dealer before buying a car. He would then drive it for 10 years. Here we have people sinking $70,000 into pick up trucks that will be down to half value in a couple of years. Probably the worst investment that a person will ever make!

Will we learn? Or continue as before? What do you think?

Wow, are my few remaining brain cells tired now!

Bible Origin of Islam

I found this rather interesting as it is a clear, concise summary of "brotherly" love.  From http://www.learnthebible.com/

What the Bible Says About the Origin of Islam

Introduction

Ever wonder why Bin Laden wants to pick a fight with America? The Bible is my final authority for all matters of faith and practice, so I wanted to see what it has to say on the issue. The Muslims claim to be the seed of Abraham and Ishmael, where Jews and Christians are the seed of Abraham and Isaac.

Changes in a changing world

When my father was born, the Wright brothers first took flight. In the last 107 years, look at the changes! Two world wars with fighting aircraft, supersonic flight, 800+ people in passenger jets, the Concord, space flight, the man on the moon, probes to Mars, Jupiter etc. , The Cold war, Vietnam, Afghanistan, and a bunch more skirmishes, space tourism.... and the list goes on.

Now some folks would say this is progress, and I would have to agree, up to a point. What started as a cool invention turned into a magnificent invention with many pluses all around. However, man still uses the flying machine to kill other people! Where is the progress? Just more people dying faster and from greater distances!

WHY MEN ARE NEVER DEPRESSED

This was "lifted from  The Old Geezer" Blog. It explains a lot of things!


Men Are Just Happier People-- What do you expect from such simple creatures?
Your last name stays put.
The garage is all yours.
Wedding plans take care of themselves.
Chocolate is just another snack.
You can never be pregnant.
Car mechanics tell you the truth.......

Avian flu demystified by Mary Zanoni from the March/April, 2006 issue of Countryside & Small Stock Journal

Doesn't this seem to be a parallel to the H1N1 hype?

Avian flu demystified by Mary Zanoni from the March/April, 2006 issue of Countryside & Small Stock Journal

Where the Money Went

Why the savings you think you have
in the bank aren't really there

By The Intentional Peasant
Baltimore, Maryland

Strictly speaking, there is not much money in this or any other country today. Almost none of it circulates. What we call money, the Federal Reserve "notes", are sometimes called fiat scrip. This means that it is money only by fiat or decree of the sovereign. It is money because the State says it is.

World Demographics

If we could reduce the world's population to precisely 100 people, with all existing human ratios remaining the same, the demographics would look something like this:

The village would have 60 Asians, 14 Africans, 12 Europeans, 8 Latin Americans, 5 from the USA and Canada and 1 from the Pacific.

51 would be male, 49 would be female

82 would be non-white; 18 white

67 would be non-Christian; 33 would be Christian

80 would live in substandard housing

67 would be unable to read

50 would be malnourished and 1 dying of starvation

33 would be without access to a safe water supply

39 would lack access to improved sanitation

24 would have no electricity ( and of the 76 that do have electricity, most would only use it for light at night)

7 people would have access to the internet

1 would have a college education

1 would have HIV

2 would be near birth; 1 near death

5 would control 32% of the entire world's wealth; all 5 would be US citizens

33 would be receiving- and attempting to live on- only 3% of the income of the "village"

These stats are about a year old, and I lost the source, but it made me think so much that I saved it.

This One Hit Me!!

Travel brochures of the Netherlands tell of windmills, dikes, and boys named Hans with their silver skates. But the years 1531 to 1578 were not so peaceful. Hundreds of Protestants were slaughtered, including another young man named Hans.
Hans Bret supported his widowed mother by working in a bakery in Antwerp. The two belonged to a Protestant group there, and in his spare time Hans studied the Bible and taught new converts in the church, preparing them for baptism. One evening a knock sounded on the bakery door. Hans opened it to find a delegation of officers. The house was surrounded and Hans was arrested. For the next several months, authorities alternately questioned and tortured him. From his dark isolation hole, Hans managed to smuggle letters to his mother.
From Him alone we expect our strength to withstand these cruel wolves, so that they have no power over our souls. They are really more cruel than wolves—they are not satisfied with our bodies, tearing at them; but they seek to devour and kill our souls.
Hans’ treatment worsened, and, when intense torture failed to break his spirit, he was sentenced to the stake. Early on Saturday, January 4, 1577, the executioner came to Hans’ cell and ordered him to stick out his tongue. Over it he clamped an iron tongue screw, twisting it tightly with a vice grip. Then he seared the end of Hans’ tongue with a red-hot iron so that the tongue would swell and couldn’t slip out of the clamp. The officials didn’t want Hans preaching at his execution. The young man was taken by wagon to the marketplace, secured to a post with winding chains, and burned alive.
In the crowd, another Hans watched in horror—Hans de Ries, Bret’s pastor and friend. After the ashes cooled, he sifted through them and retrieved a keepsake—the tongue screw that had fallen from Bret’s consumed body. Shortly after, Hans de Ries married Hans Bret’s mother, and the tongue screw became a symbol of faithfulness that has passed from generation to generation.
We must retain and revere such stories, for they are the threads from which our heritage is spun, by which our faith has been passed to us strand by strand. They are men and women of whom the world is not worthy. Our martyred forefathers, we read in Revelation 12:11, have prevailed over Satan, overcoming him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony, and they did not love their lives so much as to shrink from death.

Morgan, Robert J.: Real Stories for the Soul. electronic ed. Nashville : Thomas Nelson Publishers, 2000, S. 275

Why I Enjoy My Border Collie... Determination and Loyalty

Here is one that James Hogg told of his own dog, Sirrah:

I was a shepherd for ten years on the same farm, where I had...about 700 lambs put under my charge...at weaning-time. As they were of the...black-faced breed, the breaking of them was a very ticklish and difficult task. I was obliged to watch them night and day for the first four days, during which I had always a person to assist me. It happened one year, that just about midnight the lambs broke and came up the moor upon us, making a noise with their running louder than thunder. We got up and waved our plaids, and shouted, in hopes to turn them, but we only made matters worse...and by our exertions we cut them into three divisions.

I called out [to my dog] 'Sirrah, my man, they're away'...but owing to the darkness of the night, and the blackness of the moor, I never saw him at all...I ran here and there, not knowing what to do, but always at intervals, gave a loud whistle to Sirrah, to let him know that I was depending on him...We both concluded, that whatever way the lambs ran at first, they would finally land at the fold where they left their mothers, and...we bent our course towards that; but when we came there, we found nothing of them.

My companion then bent his course towards the farm...and I ran away westward for several miles, along the wild track where the lambs had grazed while following their dams. We met after it was day...but neither of us had been able to discover our lambs, nor any traces of them...We had nothing for it but to return to our master, and inform him that we had lost his whole flock of lambs.

On our way home, however, we discovered a body of lambs at the bottom of a deep ravine...and the indefatigable Sirrah standing in front of them, looking all around for some relief, but still standing true to his charge...When we first came in view of them, we concluded that it was one of the divisions of the lambs...But what was our astonishment, when we discovered that not one lamb of the whole flock was wanting! How had he got all the divisions collected in the dark is beyond my comprehension. The charge was left entirely to himself from midnight until the rising of the sun; and if all the shepherds in the Forest had been there to have assisted him, they could not have effected it with greater propriety.

Courtesy: The BC Museum THE HISTORY OF THE WORKING BORDER COLLIE

Our Rhode Island Reds

So far, our 10 hens and one rooster are producing 8 eggs per day on average. This was after I had my talk with them about the option of laying or stewpot. It seems to have worked! The one rooster (Roo, what else) is very protective and inquisitive. Anytime I go in the coop, one or two of the hens hop up and wait to be petted. They talk and purr almost like a cat, only noisier.

The first year trial of raising chickens was a success and we are able to supply ourselves and several members of the church with fresh eggs. The other day I had the thought" Why not next year, hold over 30 hens and sell the eggs for $2.50 per dozen? Then I did the math, and it would not pay. I will hold onto 10 and continue to enjoy the best tasting eggs that I have ever had, and the fun of looking after a few, plus the blessing of being able to give to those that aren't into chicken raising.

I can sure recommend this breed as a hardy and productive addition to any acreage. There is an urban movement about to bring chickens back into the cities (minus the noisy roosters). Chickens just lay eggs with or without the roosters! I wish this movement all the best! No medications, no hormones, no pesticides!

History

Developed in Massachusetts and Rhode Island, early flocks often had both single and rose combed individuals because of the influence of Malay blood. It was from the Malay that the Rhode Island Red got its deep color, strong constitution, and relatively hard feathers.
The Rhode Island Red was originally bred in Adamsville, a village which is part of Little Compton, Rhode Island. One of the foundation sires of the breed was a black-breasted red Malay cock which was imported from England. This cock is on display at the Smithsonian Institution as the father of the Rhode Island Red breed.

In 1925, the Rhode Island Red Club of America donated funds for an elegant monument to the Rhode Island Red in Adamsville, near the baseball field and across the street from what used to be Abraham Manchester's restaurant. (The monument is now on the National Register of Historic Places.) A competing monument to the Rhode Island Red, claiming its creation not for the poultry fanciers, but for the farmers who grew them commercially in great numbers in Little Compton, was erected by the state in 1954 a mile or so (about two kilometers) south of Adamsville.
Rhode Island Reds and Sussex are also used for many modern hybrid breeds. Many modern hybrid hens have Rhode Island Red fathers, mainly due to the prolific egg laying characteristic of the Rhode Island Red, which is passed down through the males. (courtesy Wikipedia)

The Story of The Appaloosa Horse

The spotted horse, known today as the Appaloosa, existed long before recorded history, and is perhaps one of the oldest recognizable breeds. Horses with spotted coats were depicted on cave walls in France dating about 18,000 B.C. and on statues and pottery in ancient China. He was known as the Sacred Horse of Nisasea, the Heavenly Horse and Le Tigre depending on which region of the Old World he was found. Prized and selectively bred, by the 1600’s he had been developed into a stylish breed with sleek conformation and brilliant coat markings.

It is believed the spotted horse was imported to Mexico, wandered its way north and by the early 1700’s, was acquired by the Nez Perce Indians of the Northwest. The Nez Perce’s selective breeding practices enabled them to develop their horses into superb animals with intelligence, courage, speed and stamina. Their spotted horse became known as “a Palouse horse” so called because so many of them were seen along the Palouse River. It wasn't long before they were called by the modern name, Appaloosa. By the 1870’s, advancement of the white man into the secluded northwest, changed life for the Nez Perce people. Forced to leave their homelands for a reservation, Chief Joseph, his people and their horses attempted to flee to Canada. For almost four months and covering 1100 miles of extreme terrain, the Nez Perce continued to elude General Howard and the cavalry. In October of 1877, with his people weak from cold and hunger, Chief Joseph surrendered, but not before White Bird and some of the Nez Perce escaped to Canada with several Appaloosa horses.

Stories had reached many people of how the spotted horses aided the Nez Perce in their flight and this created a demand for the Appaloosa. Many were sold off to white men who bred them indiscriminately only to produce the fancy coat patterns. Conformation and quality didn't matter and the fine Appaloosa breed was nearly destroyed.
Efforts to revive the Appaloosa horse to its former greatness were undertaken in both the United States and Canada. Individual horses with the desired characteristics were sought out and breeding programs established that would enable the Appaloosa horse to make a comeback. The Appaloosa Horse Club of Canada was formed in 1954 through the efforts of James Wyatt, an Alberta rancher and Dr. Grant MacEwan. Today the ApHCC is a strong organization that provides programs for all Appaloosa enthusiasts and maintains the official registry for Appaloosa horses in Canada as recognized under the Animal Pedigree Act.   http://www.appaloosa.ca/