After Christmas activities

Christmas is over, but instead of relaxing, I spent the last two days looking for a lost receipt. I didn’t find it, but I did some much needed organizing in my office. It is amazing how much printed material I had stacked up, even in this day of ‘going paperless’. I threw away and shredded pages and pages of old files and needless stuff. Suddenly, I have so much room in my filing cabinet and things will be easier to find. In fact, one of my New Year’s resolutions will be not to print out everything under the sun and just create organized files in my computer. With 2 TB of memory on my hard drive there certainly is enough room.

Why do I print out so much? The thing is I still like to look at printed pages and it is easier to have information handy, especially when I’m writing. For every story I have to create characters, make outlines and have back stories for the main characters, which means I have to be able to look through the material as I’m writing the story. When I print out the information, all I need to do is flip through the pages. That is more difficult if I have to look it up on a file in my computer.

I’m slowly getting over my cold. It helps to stay home for a few days and to drink a lot of water, which means many trips to the bathroom during the day. We are not getting caught up in the Boxing day/week madness. No sense to buy something just because it is on sale, especially if you don’t really need it.

There isn’t much on TV right now, mostly reruns, so we’ve been watching some movies. I downloaded for free (OMG I committed a serious crime!) the movie ‘The Interview’, just to see what all the fuss is about. I think North Korea should be much more concerned with the quality of the movie instead of getting upset about the content. We only watched about ten minutes of it and then we stopped it. We could not take any more of it. There is no danger many people will see this movie. It is supposed to be a comedy. Sorry, that type of comedy escapes me. The movie is stupid, the acting poor, and I feel sorry for the people who paid to see it.

Instead of ‘The Interview’ we watched ‘Edge of Tomorrow’, a Science Fiction film with Tom Cruise. It was another ‘invasion of the Earth’ movie, but actually quite good. A few days ago we watched ‘Gone Girl’ with Ben Affleck. It started a bit slow but then it picked up and it was another movie we enjoyed.

My wife is a fan of Arnold Schwarzenegger. One of his latest movies ‘Sabotage’ was okay. He plays a DEA agent and the movie ended with a bit of a twist. Not one of his best but still enjoyable, if you like Arnold.

A couple of weeks ago we started watching ‘Extant’. Also Science Fiction. It is about Androids and alien invaders. What a great series. We were watching 3 episodes an evening sometimes. It ended with episode 13 and now we are hooked. Hopefully, it comes back next year.

Right now, I’m looking for something to watch tonight. I have ‘Pacific Rim’, another invasion movie, on my computer. If I can persuade my wife we may watch it tonight. I’m a sucker for Science Fiction and easy to please. My wife is more selective. She’s not crazy about monsters, zombies, and huge mechanical robots. I’m afraid there are some on Pacific Rim. We’ll see.

Nothing is perfect

What a bummer! Today is Christmas Eve and I have a cold. It started yesterday with a burning sensation in the back of my throat. At first, I thought it was just because of the dry air in the house, but that was not the problem. I had to face it: I have a cold.

My wife and I are always careful when we go shopping or eating in a restaurant. We wash our hands and use disinfectant on our hands, and yet, you just can't escape these viruses. So many people are careless; they don't wash their hands after going to the bathroom; they cough and sneeze into the air without covering their mouths, and they touch everything. If somebody has a bad cold, they should stay home for at least a couple of days and not go into public places, but, of course, that is easier said than done. Not always possible.

So I spent my day yesterday  chewing cough candies to sooth my rough throat and drinking water until I busted. My bladder and kidneys had to work overtime. They probably wondered what was going on. Sometimes I neglect drinking water during the day. Last night I took a pill and I don't feel too bad today, except for that annoying cough. I took some cough syrup and  I hope I can keep the coughing under control. The kids are coming over to celebrate Christmas and I have to be in good shape, and I don't want to pass on this cold.

I  remember one Christmas. My grandson was about two years old. He had a cold, just a little one. There were pretzels in a bowl and he kept on taking some, but he didn't eat them. He licked off the salt and then he gave the pretzels to me. I ate them. After all, he is my grandson, right? So he had a cold, big deal. He was just a little guy; how many germs can he transmit? I found out the hard way. I never though it was possible to get a bad cold from a little kid. A few days after Christmas, just in time for New Year's Eve,  I came down with one of the worst colds anyone can get. I was as sick as a dog. The fault was totally mine not his. I should not have eaten those pretzels. He meant well, wanted to feed his Opa. Now the shoe is on the other foot; I'm the one with the cold and I have no intentions of infecting anyone else, especially not one of the grandchildren. I would feel terrible.

Anyway, I hope anyone reading this is healthy and stays that way. I'm getting ready to eat some ham and dumplings, with red cabbage. And drink a nice glass of wine.

Merry Christmas and Peace to all.

My Christmas present

Here is another picture of me and the buck I shot. If I were a hunter from more primitive times, I would say: "This is the Christmas present I received from the Gods of the Hunt." Since I am more civilized I have to say it's because of luck and my skills as a hunter.

Soon it will be #Christmas

Wow, how time flies. In 4 days it’s Christmas Eve. We still celebrate Christmas in our old European tradition...on the 24th of December, on the Eve of Christmas.

We’ve been busy shopping for presents for the kids and, mostly, for the grandchildren, and it’s been hectic. In a way I am always glad when Christmas finally arrives and we can take a bit of a breather. I think many people are, especially the ones who have to work in the stores.

Christmas is such an important season for the stores. They all hope to cash in on the buying frenzy. Everyone knows the only reason for all that buying is Christmas. Without Christmas we wouldn’t have all this hustle and bustle, but there are forces out there who want to ban the word Christmas. They are trying so hard to change it into Winter holiday, Winter fest, the Season, Winter concert, etc. Case in point is the Winter concert we went to last week at one of the Schools in Winnipeg. Unfortunately, most people seem to have forgotten what Christmas is really about.

However, there are still places where Christmas is acknowledged. We went to a Catholic School on Thursday to watch a Christmas play put on by the children. It was so refreshing to see that. Most of the time I was a little choked up when I saw the children playing their part with such enthusiasm and hear them singing Christmas songs. I have no idea why I felt like that. Perhaps I’m getting to be a silly, sentimental old fool.

Christmas is not just for Christians who celebrate the birth of Jesus; it is a time for reflection, for examining our beliefs, for giving and sharing, and to be grateful for what we have. It is a time to spend with our families, a time to teach our children to love and not to hate. I am grateful for my children. I love my grandchildren and there is no greater feeling in the world than hearing them say, “Opa, I love you.”

Children are so precious and it is difficult to understand how anyone would want to hurt them. 132 children murdered by religious fanatics in Afghanistan, 8 children stabbed to death by their mother/aunt. How can anything like that happen? What makes people commit such horrific acts? When I hear news like that I want to cry, because I think of my own children and grandchildren.

Are these people crazy? Is anyone who commits murder crazy? What about that Luka Magnotta who is on trial right now for murdering and cutting up another young man? The jury can’t come to a decision. Seems to me there are some bleeding hearts among them. Of course, people who commit heinous acts like murder are crazy. They are not normal. There is no question about that, but that does not give them a free license to commit murder. They need to be punished, not pitied. They need to be put in jail for the rest of their natural lives or, preferably, executed. They have no place in our society and need to be removed from it. They are crazy and can never be rehabilitated and they are a danger to society. Putting them into a mental institution is not going to help. You cannot rehabilitate a psychopath. That is my opinion.

Well, enough of this. I hope I’ll find the time to post more before Christmas. Only good stuff, though. In case I don’t, I wish everyone

#Merry Christmas, joy and love, and, most of all, Peace.

A Concert for #Christmas

Christmas is near, and at this of time of year the Schools put on Christmas concerts. At least they used to do that. Times are changing.

A couple of days ago we went to the School concert of our grandson. The concert was actually in a church. Quite appropriate for a Christmas concert, except this concert had nothing to do with Christmas. In fact, they called it a ‘Winter Concert’.

We were disappointed, because we expected Christmas carols and songs. The kids all performed well, singing and playing instruments, but the only Christmas song was toward the end, and it was ‘Joy to the World.’ For all I cared by then they needn’t have bothered.

They played and sang different songs; one was some kind of ‘Zulu’ spiritual song. There were drums. Nothing to do with winter.

I looked around the audience and saw mainly Caucasian people. The School is in an area of the city with few ethnic groups. So why would they not have a Christmas Concert? Just to appease the few people from other cultures?

It has come so far already, that the word 'Christmas' is avoided by some people, like a bad word. Now they call it 'Winter Holiday' or whatever. Instead of saying "Merry Christmas," they say "Have a Happy Holiday."  No more 'Christmas Party'. Now it's 'Company party' or 'Yearend party', or something similar, as long as the word 'Christmas' isn't in it. A shame. Christmas is the reason they are making a party in the first place.

We Canadians are so worried about offending minorities that we are willing to change our way of life and get rid of old customs and tradition. It is sad and disturbing. I am not a bigot or a racist, but I believe that immigrants who come into our country should honor our traditions, our way of life, our customs, and not expect that we change for them.

A few years ago, one of the Schools in a different neighborhood of the city was also going to eliminate the Christmas Concert. Instead, it was going to be African Drums. Fortunately, there was such uproar all across the city that they abandoned that idea and actually did have a Christmas Concert.

I can see the day in the future when there will be no more Christmas concerts or anything else that has to do with Christianity. Our laws will have changed to appease all the different ethnic groups that are slowly taking over our country, because we let them. Already now, we have laws in place that make it a criminal offense to talk and write negatively about certain ethnic groups. My prediction is it will get worse. We still have freedom of speech, but for how long? We will be muzzled when we speak our mind.

All one has to do is look around on the street, in shopping centers, in stores, in playgrounds, parks etc. to see how things have changed. People walk around in their outlandish native garb, men wearing gowns and strange head coverings, women covered up to their eyes, and they openly speak their language in public. When I am downtown Winnipeg I wonder sometimes if I was transported magically to a foreign country.

I’m an immigrant, but when I came to Canada, my priority was to learn to speak English, to dress like the Canadians and to learn the local customs and to blend in—to become a real Canadian. As did all the other immigrants who came mostly from European countries. I remember one time when I was in an elevator with a few other people. They were Italians and when some of them spoke in Italian, one of the older women said, “English! Speak English.” She had an accent, but that was okay. They made an effort.

I’m not saying people should forget about their heritage, but it should be done in private clubs or in one of their churches.

When I became a Canadian Citizen, it was a solemn affair. Now, apparently, new Canadians dance around and shout, probably in their native language. I heard that they get all kinds of free stuff, like expensive tickets to events. I never got any of that when I became a Canadian. Now we just give and give. The new immigrants expect it and take if for granted.

Apparently, we need more immigrants to boost the economy. The theory is that more people in a country bring in more taxes. That’s fine, as long as they all pay taxes and don’t become a burden to the taxpayers already in the country and as long as they don’t try to change our way of life; the way of life that I adopted so many years ago and find good. I don’t want it changed. We are living in a great country and I would like to keep it great.

We should not try to please minorities but make sure the majority of the Canadian people are happy. The people who have built up this country and made it what it is today; the people whose ancestors fought for our way of life; the Canada that seems to attract people from other countries because it is what it is. So why do these same people want to change our way of life once they are here? I can’t understand that.

When I was a newcomer, there were many things I didn’t like either, always comparing with the way things were in the old country. Every immigrant did that. It is natural. When somebody complained and criticized, we were told, “If you don’t like it here go back to where you come from!”

I’d like to pass that on to anyone who doesn’t like the Canadian Way, anyone who wants to change our customs, our traditions, and our laws.

If you don’t like it go back to where you came from and let us enjoy the way we do things here! I’m a Canadian and grateful to be able to live in this great country.

What is the attraction?

On my last hunting trip, while sitting on a log on a cold November day, waiting for a buck to make an appearance, this question popped into my mind: What is the attraction of driving a camper into the wilderness, parking it in the middle of the bush, and then walking down a narrow trail, carrying a backpack and a heavy rifle? Or sitting in a stand or on a moss-covered log, shivering, and waiting for hours or days for an animal to come by so you can shoot it?

You wear the same outfit for a week, maybe even the same underwear and socks. You don’t brush your teeth, don’t comb your hair, and barely wash, because water is at a premium, especially when the temperature is below zero.

The toilet is a log nailed against two trees in the bush, and when the north wind blows you spend as little time as possible sitting on that log.

At home, when your wife asks you to go for a walk with her, you tell her you’re too tired, but during this week you walk for miles without complaining. You shiver because it is freezing cold; you freeze your toes after they get wet inside your insulated boots from all that walking; your fingers are icicles even inside your gloves and stiff from holding your rifle. Why are you doing that to yourself? What did you do to deserve this punishment?

Some women also love it. Not my wife. “You go out there and have fun,” she says, “but when you come home, don’t complain about the hardship you had to endure. It will fall on deaf ears. Nobody forces you to go. They sell meat in the stores, you know. No sane woman would do what you crazy men do. Always have to be macho and prove something. I’m staying in our warm and comfortable home. I don’t have to cook much when you’re not around. I can get my Christmas baking done with you out of my hair. I might even do some relaxed shopping, alone, without listening to you whining about the waste of your valuable time. And don’t come back early and spoil my plans.”

A hunter will tell you that it is the greatest thrill stalking big game or just a grouse or rabbit. He will also tell you that after a day of either sweating or freezing, coming home to a warm camper, dead tired, is the best feeling in the world. In the evening, you barbeque a steak or eat chilli, drink beer and play cards with you hunting buddies. You brag about the big bucks you’ve shot over the years. All your buddies know you’re the big hunter who never misses, because that’s what you tell them. You have a valid excuse for the ones you did miss. Your buddies tell the same tales. You’ve heard them all before and they get taller with every year, but that’s okay, because so are yours. There is no wife or girlfriend around to give you orders, and you don’t worry about work, or doing chores around the house. What could be better than that?

You don’t care which country dropped bombs on another country, how many politicians got caught with their hands in the taxpayer’s till, which movie stars got married or divorced. You don’t even care if the price of oil has risen or dropped, depending on the whims of the oil companies.

The only thing you worry about is getting that deer or whatever game you are after. In the morning, you get up earlier than you would ever think about getting up at home, just to be at your favourite spot before dawn. One hunter told me after coming back to camp, exhausted, his wet feet making squishing sounds in his insulated boots as he walked, “I don’t know why I do this every year, but I just can’t live without it.” I knew what he meant.

You would never dream about doing any of that without complaining if it were your job, but here you are, of your own free will, telling yourself and everyone you talk to that you enjoy it.

Are you really? Am I?

I always enjoyed camping, even as a kid. I used to chase rabbits with a slingshot, even though I never hit one. I love hunting. Maybe it’s in the genes, programmed into a man’s DNA, left over from when primitive men had to go out with spears, rocks, and clubs to bring home supper. I don’t know.

Now we sleep in a warm trailer; we even have a generator to give us electricity. However, I remember hunts when I slept in a tent without heat, stuffed like a sausage into my sleeping bag wearing all my clothes, even my parka, unable to move. Shivering inside my cocoon, concentrating on my frozen feet, listening to the wind and the coyotes howling outside, I asked myself what I was doing here. Would I survive the night or would they find my frozen body in the Spring after the snow was gone? Things like that pop into your mind when you can’t fall asleep, when you wonder if you will have left the land of the living after the night is over. Should you, by some miracle, still be alive you know you’ll be dead-tired the next day when you have to stomp through two feet of snow for nearly a mile to get to your spot.

And that all for a chance to shoot a deer.

 So I’m asking again: What is the attraction?

#Escape Plan

Last night we watched the movie Escape Plan, starring #Sylvester Stallone and #Arnold Schwarzenegger.

Sylvester Stallone’s character is the owner of a Security company and he specializes in escaping from high security prisons.

I’m not going to go into details about the movie, because I don’t want to give away anything about the plot. All I’m going to say is that I was pleasantly surprised at the direction the movie took.

Arnold Schwarzenegger looked cool with his beard and he played his role well. I don’t think he is a great actor, but he has a certain charisma about him and I like him. He is one of my wife’s favorite actors. We’ve seen all of his movies (except his first one where he played #Hercules under the name of #Arnold Strong. They dubbed his voice in that movie).

My wife doesn’t care much for Sylvester Stallone, but she admitted she liked him in this movie. She could even understand him when he was talking. I always liked him. We’ve seen most of his movies, but only a couple of his Rocky movies.

The other actors were #Jim Caviezel. We know him from the TV series Person of Interest where he plays John Reese. We’ve been watching that series from the beginning, but lately we are getting a little disappointed with it and we are debating if we should continue watching it. It turned into another regular Cop show.

Another actor worth noting was #Vincent D’Onofrio. We used to watch #Law and Order: Criminal Intent, where he played Detective Robert Goren. He pretty much acted the same way he did in that TV series.

#Escape Plan was a good Action movie and we enjoyed it. Not too many twists and subplots, which made us older fogies enjoy it even more. Some of the TV shows we watch get sometimes too complicated and we lose interest after a while. They are great for putting us to sleep, though.

Anyone enjoying a nice, basic Action movie will enjoy Escape Plan, providing they don’t mind a bit of violence and like Arnold and Sylvester. We do. Both actors are getting old, like all of us, but they are keeping their bodies in good shape and they are looking great.

I’m looking forward to Arnold’s next #Conan movie, where he plays an aging King Conan. I’ve been a fan of Conan ever since I read the first short story by Robert E. Howard, when the Character of Conan, the Barbarian was still unknown to most people. I was ecstatic when I saw the movie featuring a young Arnold Schwarzenegger as Conan and I immediately became Arnold’s fan. I loved all his characters in his other movies and it was too bad he wasted his time as the governor of California. He could have made many great movies during that time. Now his movies may never again be the box office hits they used to be. Fans are fickle and they forget quickly. New actors appear and the fans move on. That is life.

So, if you are dying of boredom and need a little bit of action to get you excited, watch Escape Plan. I recommend it. However, if you're too old and have to watch your pulse rate, or if you watch only romance shows with no action and nothing but endless talking, don't waste your time.

Whatever you decide to do, have a wonderful day. Enjoy every moment and don't waste a minute doing stuff that makes you angry or sad. Wasted time can never be recovered. It is lost forever.

See you next time.

Is this crazy or what?

Sometimes I have the feeling I’m an alien who has been stranded on an alien planet. The alien planet is called Earth, which is populated by people that call themselves humans. And they are all crazy.

A psychiatrist or psychologist would probably say I’m antisocial and out of touch with reality. Of course, all these so-called experts are just part of the natives who call Earth home and as I said before, all Earth people are crazy. What does it make them? You are correct: Crazy. So I wouldn’t put much stock into their opinion.

I’m not antisocial. I love people and I seek their company, even if they are crazy aliens. Out of touch with reality? Me? You must be kidding, but I let you be the judge.

So why do I think people are crazy? How can I not? Just watching the news every night confirms my belief.

I watched about 10 minutes of the American Music Awards. There was a band with a female singer. She acted like she was on drugs. Her movements were so erratic, not smooth at all, like a puppet on a string. I won’t even mention her singing. To me it was nothing but noise, like all modern music. I have no idea where this new music is going. It seems to get crazier with every year and people like it. Even our canary doesn’t like it and he is a songbird. If anyone knows music it’s a songbird. The cameras zoomed in on a few women in the audience. They were singing along and even imitating the singer in her movements. What can I say? Just more proof to reinforce my theory.

Here is more craziness. Take the town of Ferguson. Anyone following the case of the white cop who shot a colored young man cannot ignore this. Yesterday the jury acquitted the cop of any wrongdoings and the crowd of people who waited outside the police station went wild, because the people were not happy with the verdict. They continued with their rioting, set cars and buildings on fire and even looted businesses. Is that not crazy? Why burn cars and buildings? Why loot businesses that had absolutely nothing to do with that case?

The general public doesn’t know what exactly went down that day when the young man was fatally shot. The media only showed pictures of him when he was a young boy and painted him a saint. Meanwhile, he wasn’t that young cute boy anymore; neither was he an innocent choir boy. Apparently, he had a history. He robbed a store shortly before he was shot. When the altercation with the cop took place, he punched the cop in the face and went for his gun. The cop spent time in the hospital. None of that was shown in the news the general public watched.

They also showed a preacher in his church—preaching some kind of sermon. He surely acted like a person who needed help. He shouted so loud his voice was breaking. I thought those kinds of preachers existed only in the movies. I guess I was wrong.

A few years ago, in Winnipeg, they closed Portage and Main to celebrate the win of one of our teams. I don’t remember if it was the Jets or the Blue Bombers. It is not important. What did the fans do during that celebration? They went wild, ripped out traffic signs and did all kinds of damage. I can't understand that kind of behavior. I don't go crazy and destroy property when I'm happy or sad.

Remember the Olympics in Vancouver also a few years ago? Thousands of ‘Fans’ smashed store windows, demolished cars, and looted businesses. Similar stuff happened one year in Toronto during demonstrations. It happens every year in some city across the globe.

Is that normal behavior? If it is then my theory is correct. They’re all crazy. I think, Earth was once chosen as an insane asylum and all the crazy ones from other planets throughout the galaxy were sent here. England did that with Australia, except they sent criminals there.

Perhaps the criminals of the galaxy were sent here also. I never thought of that. How else can you explain all the insane crimes that are happening every day? Not one day goes by when we don’t hear about another shooting or stabbing? And that is only in Winnipeg. What about the rest of the world? One could go crazy just knowing about them. By the way, the lawyers for the murderers they defend admit their clients were crazy. I rest my case.

Of course, one of the things on people’s minds is the threat in the Middle East. I’m talking about Isis. Here we have the real crazy psychopaths--a perfect example of the insanity rampant on this planet. How about those idiots that strap bombs around their bodies and blow themselves up? Those fanatics actually live under the delusion only their way is the right way and by killing all the infidels they will get a special place in heaven with 72 virgins waiting for them. I have news for them. They’ll be surprised when they end up in Hell with 72 demons ripping them apart for the rest of eternity.

All those wars in the history of mankind! It doesn’t matter how far back we go, there was always some kind of war. The Spartans, the Greeks, the Egyptians, the Romans, the Mongols, Napoleon, the religious wars, England and Ireland, the civil war in America, WWI and WWII, Korea, Viet Nam, the conflict in the Middle East, just to name the important ones.

What could be more macho and heroic than two men hacking at each other with swords? Looks cool in the movies. It’s even okay when kids do it with wooden swords where nobody gets injured, but sane grown men? There is no doubt that there must be something wrong with their brains. How about men (soldiers) lining up in a row and shooting with their muskets at another row of soldiers on the opposite side? Now that is really crazy and more than stupid, yet they did that. In our modern age soldiers shoot at each other with automatic weapons hiding behind some cover. That is much saner. Or they drop bombs at buildings and moving vehicles. When its all over, the country responsible for dropping those bombs sends money to help with rebuilding the homes that were destroyed. It even sends doctors and other aid to help the surviving but injured people. Wow! That is the utmost of absurdity and stupidity, but what can you expect from crazy people?

The Spaniard, the Portuguese, the French, and the English landed on the shores of what they thought of as a new world, planted their flags and claimed it in the name of their king.

HELLO! This land belonged to somebody. There were already people living on that new world. Who gave them the right to plant their flags? Imagine, somebody coming into your home and telling you they are claiming it as their own. You would surely tell them they are crazy.

Will this insanity ever stop? How can it when everyone is crazy?

Does anyone know how I can get off this planet? When and where will the next interplanetary Spaceship land? My bags are packed.

 Please, let me know before I go crazy.

It may already be too late.

#Small Words of Wisdom

Here are some truths I posted on my blog January 1st, 2007. I thought it would be a good idea to post them again. I did add a few new ones. Most of them are probably not new and someone else may have said them in different words, but these words might give somebody something to ponder.

Small Words of Wisdom:

By Herbert Grosshans

To be timid is to fail.

Success does not come to the one who never tries.

Speak and be heard, stay silent and be ignored.

Only a fool swims against the stream.

To reach the end one must begin.

To give up is the way of the coward.

Acting the fool makes you one.

Love comes to the one who gives it...so does Hate.

An evil act does not spawn a good act.

Even a tiny spark can produce a large flame.

To deny the truth is to lie.

Even the tallest tree was once a tiny seed.

To give in does not show weakness...to be stubborn does.

To try does not guarantee success, but not to try guarantees failure.

To give is to receive.

Lie and you shall be lied to.

A cheater is a liar.

To be trusted one must show his face, to hide behind a mask invites mistrust.

To forgive does not mean one is forgiven.

An avalanche begins with a tiny snowflake.

One cannot be a teacher without being a student.

Don't shout into a canyon if you don't want to hear the echo.
A do-gooder usually does more harm than good.
Fanatics are the most dangerous people on Earth
Just because you are religious does not mean you are a good person.
Committing atrocities in the name of God guarantees you a place in Hell.
Just because everyone does it, does not make it right

The Hunt of 2014, Part Two -- Success at last

Warning: Some readers may find this post and the picture offensive.

If you’ve read my last blog you know that the deer hunt of this year did not start out well. In fact, it looked like it was going to be a disaster, but with a great deal of luck (by being in the right place at the right time!) and the experience (knowing my rifle) I’ve gained over the years as a hunter it turned out well.

After discovering my deer stand had been destroyed sometime during the summer and the difficulty of getting to the clearing I usually hunted, I was forced to look for a different spot.

My friend Rudi suggested a spot that had produced good bucks over the years for other hunters he knew. Since we were the only hunters in the area, I headed for that spot. Mind you, it didn’t have a deer stand, just a collection of dead trees left over from when the farmers cleared the bush to make room for a fence. There were some logs suitable to sit on. I had a good view into a couple of clearings and the fence line to either side.

By 8:00 AM I sat on the log, waiting. It was Monday, opening day for the high power rifle season. In a way I was anxious but also disillusioned, wondering if anything would come by. It had to be a buck, because the season for does was closed. I hadn’t seen a deer during muzzle loader season. Deer populations in Manitoba are down, partly because of the harsh winters we’ve had, partly because of mismanagement of the herds, and because of the uncontrolled hunting of our native hunters. However, those are political issues and I don’t want to talk about that here.

As I sat there waiting, I contemplated previous hunts. Years ago, the deer had been plentiful, and there had been no shortage of hunters in the area. Many hunters walking down trails in the bush cause the deer to move—providing the deer are there. For many years the six in our party harvested 12 deer. Six bucks and six does. There were times when I shot my first deer at opening day at 7:30 AM. One year I had my buck and my doe by 9:00 AM on the first day. We let does and fawns go by, because we wanted bucks. Those were the days. They may never come back.

Now there were only the four of us here and the few deer that we hoped were still around didn’t move. There was little hope inside me that I would even see a deer, never mind a buck.

After sitting for one hour feeling sorry for myself, I suddenly saw movement out of the corner of my eye. Turning my head, I spotted a buck about 70 yards away behind a small cluster of shrubs. It was big with a nice rack.

From my experience, you have only about eight seconds—if you’re lucky. You wait for hours, sometimes days for those eight seconds. There is no time to hesitate, but neither must you hurry. Once you fire that shot you can’t take it back and try again.

I reached for my 7mm Remington I had leaning beside me, flicked off the safety, brought up my rifle, found the buck in my scope, set the crosshairs just above the blade and squeezed the trigger. All in one motion. I didn’t waste time finding the perfect spot. The longer you aim the greater the chance of shaking and missing, especially when you shoot without any support.

Most of the deer I shot over the years I dropped on the spot, but not this one. I shot those deer from a stand with a bar in front of me to rest my rifle, which kept shaking to a minimum. Also, the majority of them were around 300 yards away and not as easily spooked as one only at a distance of 70 yard.

I was quite certain I had hit, unless my scope was out again, but that was highly unlikely, because it was a new scope. This was the first deer I shot with it.

The buck took off, jumped the electric fence and disappeared in the bush.

Grabbing my rifle and backpack, I went to retrieve my buck. There was no snow, but I found a spray of blood on the high grass, confirming I had not missed. Entering the bush, I tried to determine which way the buck had run. Finding no more blood, I began zigzagging, looking for a body. To track a deer without snow can be a challenge.

After searching for nearly two hours, I went back to where I thought the deer had entered the bush. It was obvious to me I had been searching in the wrong area. If I had wounded the buck mortally, which I was positive I had, it would not have gone far. No more than 100 yards.

As I stood there scanning the trees and the grass, I spotted a large rusty spot on one of the poplars about 30 inches above ground. At first, I thought it was just some disease on the tree, but then I checked it and discovered the same rusty color on the grass growing at the base of the tree. When I saw a second tree with an even larger ‘rust spot’ I knew it was blood. My buck was nearby. It had entered the bush closer to where I had been sitting. With snow on the ground I would have never missed that.

Sure enough, I found the buck about 30 yards from the edge of the bush with its antlers wedged between two poplars. The buck was dead. My shot had been true—right above the shoulder blade.

To say I was ecstatic would be an understatement. It doesn’t matter how many deer you’ve shot, every one of them is special. There is no greater thrill than finding it lying in the grass or on top of the snow.

I knew it was a large buck when I shot it, but I didn’t know it was this big. It gave me quite a workout when I gutted it, but it didn’t matter. A hunting season that started not promising had come to a successful end.

There will be venison in the freezer again and another set of antlers to be hung on my Wall of Memories.

The Hunt of 2014, Part One – A sad Tale but true

It's been a while since I posted last, but there was a good reason. My son and I, together with my friend Rudi and his son, went on our yearly deer hunting trip in the first week in November. We’ve been going to the same area for over 25 years and this year was no exception. For many years there were six of us and we shot our share of deer, quite a few nice bucks among them. All of us are running out of wall space to hang the mounted antlers, but somehow I always find another spot on one of my walls. Every buck we shoot is special and deserves to be remembered.

Unfortunately, this year things didn’t turn out as well as most of the previous years. The weather plays a major role. We’ve hunted in warm weather, extremely cold weather, in windy weather, in sleet, in rain and in snow storms. As an outdoor’s man (or woman) you have to adapt to the conditions.

Another thing that changes is the landscape. Trees and shrubs that once were small grow tall. Beavers built dams and flood the land. The area we hunt is used as community pasture where farmers keep the cattle during the summer. Within the last few years, the farmers cleared a large area of brush, cut down trees and changed the area into something not favourable for deer and hunters.

On top of everything, that part of our province received more rain than anyone can remember it ever getting, which meant that much of the land and bush area turned into mud, perfect for swamp dwellers, but a nightmare for hunters.

We couldn’t get to our usual camping spot because of the mud, so we had to set up camp as close as we could possibly get to our hunting area, which resulted in longer distances to walk.

A few years ago I built a tree stand from which I’ve shot many deer over the years. It had always been a good producer and there was no reason not to go there again. The road leading to it was flooded, so I had to find a different route. Checking my map I discovered an old cutline that should take me near my stand. Then it should be only a short trip through the bush. I had a compass and it would be no problem.

The cutline was partially overgrown but still visible. Things weren’t bad for the first 100 yards, but then the mud started. Every step was a battle. I sank into the mud to the top of my brand new insulated rubber boots, many times in danger of loosing my balance and ending face down in the mud. It was fortunate my boots were a good fit and stayed on my feet, otherwise the muddy ground might have claimed them. I persevered, because I needed to get to my deer stand. Nothing else mattered. Once I got there everything would be fine and worth the ordeal.

The muddy ground finally ended and then I stepped into a clearing. I didn’t know if it was mine, but looking toward the other end I saw my stand. From far, the new ladder I built the previous year seemed intact. I had worried the cattle might have destroyed it. As tired as I was, I could have done a little dance of happiness. A trip that should have taken no more than 20 minutes had taken twice that long, but it didn’t matter. Another five minutes and I’d be sitting in my comfortable deer stand ten feet above ground waiting for my big buck to make an appearance. Victory was near.

So I thought.

But, like so many dreams in life, not all dreams turn out the way we plan, and some are brutally shattered. When I got close to my stand, instead of breaking into a song of victory I felt like sobbing. The ladder was the only thing that was not broken. The rest of the stand looked like it had been visited by a drunken bear with a sledgehammer. There was no floor and the seat appeared intact only on one side. I climbed up the ladder and found the seat was still usable if I sat right at the edge. I would have to rest one foot on a crossbar in the front; the only thing left of the floor. However, as I got comfortable the seat broke and I held on for dear life to keep from ending up 10 feet below. I managed to climb down the ladder without any further mishaps.

Standing safely on the ground again, I looked around the clearing that had produced so many nice deer, and then with a heavy heart I bid my deer stand good bye. It was beyond repair and I didn’t feel like building a new one. My dream of sitting comfortably for this trip was over. I fought my way back to camp through the mud, taking a different route which was just as miserable to travel as the other one. Now I had to find a different place to hunt, because it was too difficult to reach my old clearing. Without a stand to sit on there was no point, anyway.

I’m telling you my sad tale not because I want you to feel sorry for me but to tell you that even sad stories sometimes have a happy ending.

Come back and find out what I’m talking about from my next blog. It will be a much happier tale.

Our new temporary campsite

Waiting for a deer sitting on the ground

Morons Galore

There is never a shortage of most anything in our society, and that includes morons. Some couple sued one of the Airlines for $12,000.00 because they ordered 7-Up but received Sprite instead. At first the court (more morons!) awarded the money to the couple, but an appeal court overturned it. Amazing, there are still some sensible people out there, even in our justice system.

Another couple sued the same Airline Company, because they were not served in French. Unbelievable! That’s how this whole problem with the language started in Manitoba. Georges Forest didn’t want to pay a parking ticket ($2.00 in 1979 I believe), because it was written in English and not in French. I knew the man. I’m not calling him a moron, because he was a nice man and helpful. My first car insurance broker and he spoke perfect English. I don’t believe it was a language issue with him; he just didn’t want to pay his ticket, but now he is hailed as Language rights activist. The morons were the people who blew it into something so huge and costly to every Canadian.

One of the more infamous cases of being a moron is that woman who sued MacDonalds for four million dollars when she spilled a cup of hot coffee over herself. There are plenty of such cases. In many instances the courts actually awarded these troublemakers and idiots money. I think they should have sued the lawyers and the judges for being such morons.

My wife says not to call them morons. They are far from being that, because they are actually quite smart. They’ve figured out a way to get money for doing nothing. Okay, so they are a bunch of extortionists, vultures, opportunists, shitdisturbers, etc. Not nice names, either. I can go with that. I know someone who would call them A-holes.

I know I’m using politically incorrect names here, but I’m not politically correct. I’ve said that before. We have to call a spade a spade. It’s an overused phrase but it fits.

Something I saw yesterday in the news. Some people are offended by certain Halloween outfits, especially the ones representing native peoples, like Indian Princess. One woman said natives don’t dress in such skimpy outfits. Perhaps they don’t, but these are fantasy costumes. One man put it quite right, “If I want to wear an Indian headdress I do it because I think it looks nice. There is no disrespect in that.”

Would people be offended if someone wears a costume looking like a bullfighter, a Ninja, an angel, a devil, a Ukrainian dancer, or a Hula girl? What makes wearing a native costume a sign of disrespect, but wearing a costume from another culture not? It seems to me there are people out there who are constantly on the search for things they can blow out of proportion just to create trouble and havoc. Like I said—Morons.

#Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse

 Anyone who ever read the bible, especially chapter six of the Book of Revelations, which predicts the Apocalypse, knows about the four horsemen:

Pestilence.

War.

Famine.

Death.

When you search the internet, you’ll find many predictions, mainly from fanatical religious preachers, about the  #‘End of Times’. “The End is near.” We’ve heard and read about it for decades.

With all the things going on right now in the world, one begins to wonder. Perhaps the end is finally here.

Take the horseman of ‘War’ for instance. Fighting never seems to stop anymore. There are wars going on everywhere. However, right now the greatest danger we face, is #ISIS (also known as ISIL). Over 30,000 crazy, bloodthirsty psychopaths are on the warpath. They are fighting a jihad, a holy war, bent on killing the infidels, the non-believers, in their quest to bring about an Islamic state in the Middle East. A dictatorial state run by religious fanatics. The most dangerous type of government you can have. Besides, what is holy about any war? The followers of this group are nothing but terrorists. They are using religion only as an excuse to still their hunger for power and their sick desire to kill innocent people.

The #Book of Revelations talks about Satan and his dark forces killing anyone who rejects Satan. Could it be that ISIS is this dark, evil force? It makes sense. Peaceful, good people do not kill others who are of different opinions and faiths. A god that allows his followers to murder others is an evil god. Good will triumph in the end, which is reassuring, but in the meantime millions of humans will have to suffer.

With the threat of the Ebola virus, the aids virus, and other new viruses popping up, one cannot help but think of another horseman: Pestilence.

What about the horseman ‘Famine’? With the weather patterns changing and all the disaster happening all over the globe, we may soon face food shortages. And the way humans are multiplying, especially in the third-world-countries, famine is pretty certain. Wasn’t it last year when so many people died of starvation in Africa?

The last horseman: Death. Self-explanatory. With war, pestilence, and famine comes death.

I am not particular religious. I don’t believe the bible stories about how the world (universe) was created. I don’t believe Earth was created in seven days, or, as some people believe, 6,000 years ago. I believe in the theory of evolution. Of course, I admit, I could be wrong.

As a writer of Fantasy and Science Fiction stories, I keep an open mind to anything. Who really came up with all those ‘revelations’? Perhaps they were travelers from the future who lived through all these terrible happenings and they managed to escape into the past and brought back those predictions. Perhaps everything happens in cycles. It has happened before, many times maybe, and the predictions are just racial memories from people who lived through and survived the last cycle. (Don’t laugh about those kind of speculations. Anything is possible. I knew someone who still believed the Earth was the center of the universe and the sun circled the Earth! And no, I’m not that old ☺)

Interesting theories and something to ponder. For me, anyway. However, it doesn’t matter if these predictions are merely fantasy stories written centuries ago, or by people who foresaw them in their dreams, or if they are ‘memories’, the fact is, humanity is experiencing and facing dire times.

Perhaps there are forces out there who want to make those predictions come true by causing many of these things to happen. Obviously, they can’t control the weather. Or can they? However, we can’t lie back and say, “Well, it has been written and God will come to the rescue. There is nothing to worry about. It will all turn out well in the end.”

That, of course, is like the proverbial ostrich that hides its head in the sand, pretending everything is okay. We need to wake up, take a stand and fight fire with fire. We have to fight this murderous force with everything we have. Not just bombs from the air. It is imperative to have military forces on the ground and fight these maniacs in the streets of the cities they’ve already taken over. They don’t show any mercy to anyone; raping women, murdering even children, cutting off heads and recording it, executing prisoners, threatening the whole world with death, and so forth. We cannot show them mercy, either. They must be eradicated from this Earth for good. By that I don’t mean throwing them in jail.

According to the news we hear and see on TV, there are around 80 young men in Canada right now who have returned from ISIS-training camps. Apparently, our Spy-agencies are tracking them and keeping an eye on them. Pardon me? Why did these traitors not get arrested the moment they stepped out of the airplane that brought them back to Canada?

They should have been taken into custody, their Canadian citizenship revoked, charged with conspiracy to commit a terrorist act and thrown in jail with no lawyer to bail them out. Any lawyer showing up who wants to represent them should also be thrown in jail and charged with ‘association with known terrorists’.

Harsh? Yes, but it will have to be done before they can get organized and bring the war to our doorsteps. Do innocent people have to die before we wake up and take drastic measures?

I’m the last person who wants to live in a police state, but it doesn’t have to come to that. All we need are tailor-made laws to allow such actions and make them legal. We cannot listen and give in to minority groups, especially non-Canadians, who will definitely object to such laws. Innocent Canadians won’t have to worry.

#The Ebola Plague. Be afraid! Be very afraid!

 

A new plague is threatening mankind. Most people still treat it with a nonchalant shrug. “Nothing to worry about. It’s over there in Africa, on the other side of the world.”

Well—I’m worried.

The Ebola virus is not anymore only in Africa. It is in Spain. It’s come to the USA, and, possibly, also to Canada. One man brought it with him on a plane. He neglected to tell anyone that he helped a woman, who was infected with the Ebola virus, move before he boarded the plane to the US. Even though he was infected it didn’t show up when they screened him after getting off the plane. Four days after he landed he became ill. He had all the symptoms and yet, the hospital he went to for a check-up, sent him home again. Somebody goofed up majorly.

The man is dead now. He infected one of the health care workers in spite of precautions that were taken. There is a good chance he also infected his girlfriend and others he came in contact with.

This whole incident shows how easily a deadly virus can be transferred to anywhere in the world. Nobody is safe. The authorities assure us they have it under control. They are prepared. Prepared for what? An outbreak? By then it is too late. Thousands have already died from the Ebola virus and more will die, despite the effort to prevent it from spreading. Researchers are trying to develop a drug, but even if they are successful to find one, it will need to be mass-produced. And that’s where the problem lies. Some pharmaceutical company will want to take advantage of it to make money and some will get rich. Somebody always gets rich from a disaster, from a war, and from the outbreak of a disease.

How long will it take to make the drug available to the public?

 So, let’s assume there is a serious outbreak and there is a drug available by then, how much is it going to cost the taxpayer to buy the medicine?

What worries me most is the fact that it is difficult to prevent the spread of the Ebola virus, no matter what the authorities are trying to make us believe. Infected carriers cannot be detected until it is too late. They’ve already admitted that much.

One way to stop the spread is to quarantine every country where the Ebola virus has taken hold. Close the borders. Nobody is allowed to leave; nobody is allowed to enter, except doctors and health care workers who understand the risk. No planes fly to those countries and no planes are allowed to leave those countries. There can be no exception, even for humanitarian reasons. The risk is too great.

Unchecked, the Ebola virus could kill millions, wipe out whole populations. It could be the next Bubonic Plague.

Maybe it is nature’s way of controlling the numbers of humans on Earth. Here is food for thought: According to some scientists, the cradle of humanity lies in Africa, that’s where humans began their migration across this planet. Aids, an epidemic still rampant, originated in Africa. The Ebola virus comes from Africa. Perhaps the end of humanity will come from Africa. It would be only fitting.

Be afraid! Be very afraid!

Observations on a boring day

The other day I was sitting in a mall selling raffle tickets for the hunting club I’m a member of.

It’s a boring job. Not much to do but sell the odd ticket, read a book, or, in my case, write a book or whatever. This post was the ‘whatever’.

Another way to pass the time is watching the shoppers, and that can be quite entertaining, sometimes even a bit unsettling. It is pleasing when a pretty woman walks by.

I usually look at the way people dress. Some people dress nice, some not so nice. Most men wore jeans or cargo pants. Some pants fit quite nicely; others were baggy and sloppy-looking.

With the women, there was a greater variety. U saw very few skirts. Older women wore long skirts, while younger women wore them quite short. Most young women wore tight-fitting pants or jeans. The ones that puzzled me were the girls and women who wore ripped jeans or jeans with actual holes in them. There was one woman with holes so large her knees were exposed. I felt uncomfortable just looking at her. That can’t feel good having your bare kneecaps getting caught in those holes.

The ones that unsettled me were the women who were covered up from head to toe. I only saw the eyes of one woman; the rest of her was hidden behind loose clothing. I saw men with turbans and scraggly beards.

I realize we live in a so-called free country with religious freedom and freedom of choice, but I still ask myself why these people come to my country. You know—when in Rome to as the Romans do. To me that means dressing like the citizens of the county you have chosen to be your new homeland. If you don’t like that or refuse to accept new customs and laws, stay away! (I’m venting again, but this is a dear subject to me.)

Watching all these foreigners in their outlandish garb creates negative feelings and one cannot help but be prejudiced. Multiculturism, as noble as it seems to be, doesn’t work. Just like having reservations for our native people doesn’t work. We have plenty of problems with them. I hate to be a doomsday preacher, and I hope I’m proved wrong, but this whole thing cannot  and will not end well. It only creates friction and a host of problems. Integration is the only way.

Footwear is another subject. Shoes, sneakers, low boots, high boots, sandals, and even a few tongs. I saw them all. The whole day I sat there, I saw only one guy with red sneakers. I even saw a guy wearing what looked like pajama pants. His sneakers were untied, huge, and sloppy.

Surprisingly, I saw only a handful of people texting while walking. It seems people are finally smartening up...or maybe not. As I wrote this, two women walked toward me, texting; one of them almost walked into my desk.

Quite a few women were pushing baby carriages—big, cumbersome looking contraptions. Whatever happened to those simple carriages we had when our children were babies?

I mentioned boots before. Only two of the women/girls walking by wore boots with high heels. Ahh, the good old days when all the girls wore high heels. It was murder on their feet, but, hey, they looked terribly sexy.

Most people had descent haircuts, men and women alike. Only 2 guys had long, unkempt hair and long, scraggly beards. They must have gotten lost in the wrong part of town.

And what’s with that cloth hanging out of guys’ pockets? Is that for wiping your hands? Or are they possibly auto mechanics? I only saw two of those.

I think it depends on the area how people look and dress. There is a distinction between the people of different areas. Some are just more...how should I say it without sounding snobby and prejudiced...smarter? Classier? More sophisticated? Richer? Poorer? Cleaner? More educated? More ambitious? Lazier? I don’t know, but the fact is there is a class difference, no matter what some people want us to believe.

Another thing I was acutely aware of: Most people were actually slim to a little overweight. I counted only 4 obese people. We were recently in the USA, and I have to say the number of fat and obese people we saw there was alarming. I apologize to my readers from the US, but it is the sad truth. I wrote about that in one of my last blogs. Too much junk food, portions too large and the food too greasy.

It’s amazing the things one sees and learns on a boring day.

#Hot Salsa

I’m not talking about dancing here. If you’ve expected that, you’re reading the wrong blog ☺

Today was a typical Fall-day: Cold, cloudy, and rainy. So we stayed indoors and made Salsa. Actually, we did the same thing last year, only a week earlier.

This year was not a good year for growing some vegetables in the garden, but we did manage to get enough tomatoes and peppers to make one batch of Salsa and a couple batches of ‘Pfeffersosse” (Peppersauce). The tomatoes are not as nice as last year, neither are the peppers. Not many red peppers. Most of them were yellow and many were still green. At this time last year I took a five-gallon pail filled with beautiful red tomatoes to the soup kitchen in Selkirk. This year we barely have enough for our own consumption.

The Salsa turned out nicely. We’ll be eating some tonight. There is nothing better than homemade salsa. They don't put these quality ingredients into the stuff you buy in the stores. We made it hotter this year by adding more hot peppers. Here is the modified recipe:

Note: This recipe makes a hot salsa. For a milder salsa use less hot peppers.

Ingredients:

Chop:
*5 - quarts ripe tomatoes (Roma are the best) (2 Ice cream pails)
*7 - large sweet peppers

*6 - hot peppers (Hungarian banana peppers) (finely chopped)

*3 - medium sized onions
*5 - tablespoons fresh parsley (finely chopped)
*3 - leaves fresh basil (finely chopped)
*2 - teaspoons fresh Oregano (finely chopped) (or dried)

*3 - cloves garlic (crushed)
*1 - tablespoon salt
*Juice of 1 lime

Boil chopped tomatoes for about 15 minutes in a large pot (6 quarts steel pot). Remove most of the liquid to decrease cooking time. Dip a ladle into the boiling tomato pulp and let the foam run into the ladle.

Add the rest of the ingredients.

Boil for 30 minutes on medium heat, and then simmer on medium low until thick, stirring frequently. (Don’t overcook, otherwise Salsa will turn to mush.)

In the meantime:

Sterilize 9 – 500 ml (1 pint) mason jars with Sodium Metabisulfite.

Sterilize new lids

Fill hot water into the jars to make them hot.

Ladle salsa into hot mason jars.

Put sterilized lids onto filled jars. (Don’t overtighten the screw bands. Just fingertip tight)

Put filled and sealed mason jars into 250 F preheated oven for 20 minutes.

Remove jars from oven. Lids will pop and seal when they cool. No need to keep filled jars in fridge.

Note: I use Sodium Metabisulfite to sterilize the jars. Sodium Metabisulfite is available from Wine making supply stores. You just fill one jar to the rim and transfer the sterilizing liquid from one jar to the next, pouring the liquid back into the storage container when done with the last jar. The liquid can be used over and over until it doesn’t smell anymore. After sterilizing rinse with warm water.