Wednesday, April 23, 2014

Gone Fish'n...

Dad has spent a couple of weeks scouring online ads for a boat, a fishing boat.  When he found The boat he had me contact the owner via e-mail and Dad took it from there.  A few days later he proudly told me he had bought The boat.  
"How are you going to get it home", I asked.  "Oh I will arrange for my friend to take me down to pick it up" he said.  In short order a plan was made, and off they went. 
 "Where are you going to put it?" I asked.  
"I'll put it on the pad at my friend's place," he said.  "But for now we'll put it in the garage here, it needs a little work," he said. 
"What does a little work mean?" I asked.  
"Oh just this and that and a few other things," he said.
So they brought it home, and the very next day she was baptized in the waters of the  Sacramento river, along with Dad & his crony! 

Sacramento River


It seems Dad was driving and got hung on a gravel bar, instead of pouring the coal to her, and planing over it, he killed the throttle, sticking them on the gravel bar.  The crony hopped out to push them off, but soon realized Dad was going to have to get out as well.  Dad made it out, promptly lost his footing, and ended up setting down in six inches of water.  He and the crony were laughing so hard, they almost didn't get Dad back in the boat.
Now it is in a place of honor in the garage, supposedly so she doesn't get rained on.  In reality, so Dad can work on her late into the night.  She has been stripped of all her ratty ol carpet, and the rotted captain's seat tossed in the garbage.  Dad has given me a lengthy list nearly every evening of assorted "little things" to order on-line for her. 
He takes everyone who comes by out to the garage to admire his fish'n boat. So far, He and I seem to be the only ones that get it: he has a project to keep him busy, he wants to go fishing, and he's 90 years old so he needs to gett'r done now.
Dad working on his fish'n boat.



He said I could call him "Captain", I said I would call him "Ol Swampy".
He said Willie the Jack Russell, could go fish'n with us.  I said he could, but we had to call him "Gator Bait" when he was in the boat.

So, as soon as that ugly ol flat bottom boat is fixed up, Ol Swampy, Gator Bait, and I are gone fish'n.   

Monday, April 21, 2014

The Fact of the Matter...




Family offered me seats in their Rodeo box for two days, but no rodeo for me this go round. Too much going on at the home front with mom.  Next year if at all possible, and I'm good with that. Best big corn dogs and beer in the West, ummm, Best Rodeo in the West, too!







I want to mention that we have some good, honest, hardworking, local friends that are rodeo stock contractors.  They were hauling cattle to a rodeo in Nevada when the whole Bundy thing was heating up.  A jackwagon from so cal with a radio program posted FB pics of their truck and stock trailer (which of course has their name all over it) and made remarks that were totally untrue.  Because a media jackwagon and his cadre of followers never bothered to fact check, the guys have received multiple death threats, both on the road and here at home.  Many of us called the jackwagon about his posts, he has since apologized and removed the posts.  But the damage has not been entirely mitigated,  because so many read & heard the original posts and passed them on, and not the retractions.  We all need to remember to take the stuff that is put out there with a large grain of salt, and fact check, fact check, fact check.



Wednesday, April 16, 2014

Sunshine Wash & Dry revisited...

It's BIG RODEO time in RB, and I'm look'n to spend some time with the rough stock side of the Dakota branch of the family.

 JJ on Lunatic Fringe 2013

Reminds me of Sunshine Wash & Dry... HERE

Tuesday, April 15, 2014

Whiskey & Water...

You just never know when your going to meet someone special.  Sunday's kayaking trip to Whiskeytown was a good example of that. 





 I was on a floating break with the gals, trying to get my bag of twigs and berries out of my dry sack, when a  handsome young Canadian flyboy befriended me. He hung on my every whispered word... in no time I had him eating out of my hand... til I ran out of Craisins.  As he flew off to pursue another,  I  swear he winked and called, "you'll be back ol water woman, see ya around".  
I'm tak'n my jetpack broom along next time, he's in for a surprise.








Sunday, April 13, 2014

Swapping my broom for a paddle...





The little knife is engraved LA-200, this is not a reference to a LA kinda whimp race, it was given for most use of oxytetracycline cow medicine in one go round. I pack it cause it has a great save your life cork screw. 


It's a paddling... kind of day.



  YeeHaw...Off kayaking at Whiskeytown. 
 
Have a blessed Sunday.