Archive for August, 2010

Daily Survival: Pellet Rifle Hunting, by D.M.

If   the economy collapses as is being predicted, that ol’ air rifle could be the one thing between you and starvation. The following article and recommendations are of interest to anyone preparing ahead for a disaster of any kind. As my hubby learned last summer, before cats, it makes an excellent rat killer

Daily Survival: Pellet Rifle Hunting, by D.M..

Another plus, the ammo for it is cheaper than any other kind. Bought BB’s lately?

okiewife passing on some helpful info


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Girls and Their Phones

They start young these days. Every girl thinks she needs a phone even before reaching the teen years. Boys are not exempt from this phone mania, either.

Back in my day–yeah, yeah I kow, another ol’ geezer who had to walk 3 miles to school in the snow, uphill, both ways–where was I? Oh yeah, when I was a pre-teen we  had party lines, 3 or 4 families on the same line, and to make a call first you picked up the receiver to see if someone else was already on the line, if not you made your call. If it was in use you were required to hang up and wait before trying again.  Like no one ever eavesdropped on his neighbor’s call. Ha. Some of the best gossip was picked up to be passed on this way. It was sort of like using social media today, if you don’t want it spread endlessly, don’t post it. We quickly learned this same principle with party lines. You could tell your friend you had a wart on your big toe, and before supper everyone in town knew it. Now instead of just everyone in your small town knowing your business, it’s hundreds or thousands in the facebook and twitterverse.

Oh dear, I sure get sidetracked easily. Girls and their phones. Just some examples:

News by Harley

Harley, preschool age, with Haley at 6, Harley was giving a monster report over her play phone. This was serious business. The monster had to be captured and put in a cage, which was a blanket enclosed space under the dining room table. It was successful only because the monster was willing to be caged. 

 Next photo:Haley takes her own photo Haley is taking her own photo with her phone. Most phones now have cameras built in, and the girls use them endlessly to record their every daily event. A far cry from the Brownie box camera I used for black and white pictures, that had to be developed by a professional photo shop. (not so good ol’ days.)

Just one more to show how different a group of girls interact now from the old party line days: They are taking photos, texting, and even talking.

If a girl does not have her own phone now she feels like an outcast, poor little step-child. It was an unimagined concept for my generation, except for the creative inventer types who came up with these ideas in the first place.

That’s right….the younger generation that think we old coots are clueless, would not have their camera phones, video games, and computers without the inventive genius of  the previous generations.

okiewife, observing the antics of teens

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Why I have Gray Hair, next chapter

David was soooo adventurous when young, from sledding down the stairs to the BB gun misadventures, he was always thinking up new ways to vex (scare) his mother (me.)

When this escapade took place we lived in Milton, IL in the big house on the corner, and he was still pre-teen aged. There were wasp nests in the barn and trees around the place, and David took it upon himself to get rid of them with the use of a long pole, and a wiffle bat. I know, most kids would not have dreamed up this stunt, let alone attempt it.

courtesy of photobucket

So David took his nest-poker and bat out under the tree and gave that nest a poke. Out poured the wasps, looking for a target, but David stood like a statue, waiting for them to give up and start returning to the nest. As soon as most of them were gone he picked off the stragglers with the wiffle bat. No he did not get stung. He continued this poke, freeze, swat operation until the nest was cleaned out, then knocked it down and took it to the burn barrel. Back then, mid 60’s, we were still allowed to burn trash.

One of the neighborhood boys who was about the same age saw this adventure happening and thought batting wasps looked like a fun thing to do, so brought his bat over to join the slaughter.  David gave him the most important rule of  wasp fighting, which was the freeze, don’t move while they are swarming around part. The friend said ok to this warning, and waited while David poked the next nest. Out came the wasps, buzzing around the boys, but sorry to say it was too much for the friend and he took off running. Of course he was stung several times before getting in his front door, while David stood still and continued to pick off the stragglers. When the neighbor boy finally came back out David told him “I TOLD you not to run.”
By the time we parents, who were working at the time, learned of this game, nearly all the wasp nests were gone.
Raising a son is a total adventure in itself.  I think I  am glad there was only one of him. The memories are the best part, by the way.
okiewife remembers and pats the gray hair.

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