Doggerel 4

There being no earth shaking news to inspire a new post, I've reached back into the archives and dusted off one my vintage doggerels.  This one, like the previously published Manure, is about the 'good' old days back on the Minnesota farm.

GOOD STUFF

 

When my siblings and I hear those words, it brings a smile because it has a unique meaning to us.  It definitely doesn’t mean ‘pot’ or high quality goods.

 

Dad just loved those auction sales.

Bought ‘good stuff’ in boxes and pails.

Rusted nuts and bolts and tools,

Old lopsided milking stools,

Ugly lamps, pictures, clothes;

Dented doorknobs and leaky hose.

 

Anything for sale was nifty,

If bought for less than a buck-fifty.

Of junk he never got enough,

Useless?  Worn out?  No!  Good stuff!

Good stuff we could not discard.

Garages full of it; cars in the yard.

 

Farm life wasn’t all that fun.

No time for hobbies except this one.

My packrat dad: gene or obsession?

Inspired perhaps by the Great Depression?

 

The good stuff finally went away.

All sold at auction in just one day.

It lives on still, in box and trunk.

One man’s treasure; another man’s junk.

 

Acorn falls not far from tree.

And yes, that can be said of me.

I’m driven to save at every till,

But my good stuff’s gone to Goodwill!

 

Mike Delaney

9-7-05

All rights reserved.

We got 'em

There's a saying here, "You've either got 'em or you're going to get 'em."  What are they referring to?  A) Wrinkles  B) Cooties  C) Redneck Neighbors  D) Tortilla Chips  E) None of the Above.  The correct answer is E).  Unless you've lived here and have heard the saying it's highly unlikely that you'd guess the right answer, which is - ta, da: subterranean termites.

A couple weeks back, Trish was cleaning up Ranger's dining area (he's well trained but apparently slept through the class on table manners) and said, "Oh, oh!"  'Oh, ohs' aren't good.  I've yet to hear any good news that started with the words 'oh, oh.'  This was no exception.  She discovered that termites had been merrily chomping away at the kitchen counter floor moldings, and in some places, had consumed everything except the paint.  The molding surfaces were lumpy and you could poke your finger right through the paint 'skin' along a 10' stretch.

S-mites are tiny, can gain access via cracks as small as 1/32".  Homes are built on concrete slabs here.  When the concrete slab cracks, as they all inevitably do, the little SOBs sound the trumpets, raise the flags and march right on in.  "Come on guys, let's eat!"  And eat they do.  I'm amazed that anything that tiny can cause so much damage. 

Yesterday, I removed all the damaged molding and vacuumed up the bugs and sawdust.  Then, I measured and cut the new moldings, a royal pain in the ass due to weird angles and bull nose corners.  The pest control guy's coming tomorrow and will apply termiticide to selected areas of the house perimeter and inject it into the kitchen counter wall. 

Here's some of the old molding.  Bottom piece is just a husk with a few slivers of wood. 

 

There's no such thing as a 100% sure fire/never fail approach to keeping these bugs out.  Not in the long term, anyway.  You need to have an annual pest inspection, which is free, thankfully.  That, followed by spot treatment as needed.  

The Game

I'm not the first to notice the similarity between life and poker.  Kenny Rogers' song, The Gambler, may be the most well known analogy.  I liken life to a game of 5-card draw.  You get 5 cards and you can exchange up to 3 for different cards in hopes of improving your hand.

In the game of life I define the 5 cards as intelligence, attractiveness, personality, health and environment.  It's a mixed bag of nature and nurture elements, some a mixture of both.  You can't choose the environment you were born into nor the health you were born with; those are 2 cards you can't exchange.  You can improve your appearance and, although many experts say personality is fully developed by age 7, I contend that it can be changed and improved as you grow and mature.  I also think intelligence can be enhanced, if not improved, with the right stimulus and education.

There's a lot of luck involved.  A scant few are dealt pat hands and fewer still, incredibly lousy ones.  Most of us get a mixed bag of keepers, losers and so-so's - and harbor high hopes of exchanging the marginals and losers for something better.  The cards themselves aren't the only factor, though.  How you play your hand has a good deal to do with the outcome.

The analogy was recently refreshed in my mind by a conversation with an old friend.  Verna's 33-year old son, Justin, was born with multiple health issues, has been struggling with them ever since and will have to continue that struggle throughout his life.  I commented to Dave (my old friend and Verna's husband) that Justin was dealt a lousy hand.  And that reminded me that I was dealt a pretty darn good one.

We who received the good ones should remain cognisant of the fact that it wasn't our doing.  We were lucky.  When we're feasting on turkey in a few weeks, let's be thankful for the good cards.  I'm thinking that family, in the form of genes and environment, deserves most of the credit.