Welcome Visitors

Welcome to my personal blog. I have another blog, Herbert's Place, but that one limits me to what I sometimes want to publish, because it is mainly used to promote my books. As it says in the header, I want to use this blog to write about things that have nothing to do with my books. There is no real theme here. I'll be writing about anything that causes me to either be happy or somethings that concerns me. It could be political, travel, a hobby, or anything else. So come and visit me sometimes.

Sunday, February 14, 2016

#Valentine

It's Valentine's Day. This is the day when lovers give each other cards and flowers and they go out for dinner--usually at inflated prices. We don't go out anymore for Valentine's Day, instead we eat at home. My wife makes a duck and it is always delicious. We've done so for years. It is much cheaper that way and we have a nice, quiet dinner without the noise and the hustle and bustle in a restaurant.
Besides, nobody makes a duck the way my wife does. She takes the time, usually about 3 hours in the oven, to make sure the fat is all broiled out and the skin is nice and crispy. And the meat is tender, not tough the way we've already had it in different restaurants. Duck rarely on the menu at most places, only at specialty restaurants. They charge a pretty penny and it probably isn't as good as making it at home. The reason is actually quite simple: Nobody wants to wait that long for a duck dinner, so the cooks will have to hurry it, which means a fatty and tough duck.

I'm not going to put a picture of the meal here. In case anyone is interested in seeing what a duck dinner looks like, please, go to my blog from last year:
http://hergros.blogspot.ca/2015/02/valentines-day.html
You'll find a picture plus a #poem I wrote for #Valentine's Day.

However, here is a picture of a Peking Duck. A live one.



Have a Happy Valentine's Day. I hope you're enjoying it with a person you love, either your husband or wife, a good friend, or even with your parents or children.



Friday, February 12, 2016

#Mike and Molly



One of the funny shows we are watching these days on TV is Mike and Molly. The last episode wasn’t funny at all. I found it annoying and disconcerting.

Anyone who hasn’t watched the show, here is a short blurb: Molly, who was supposed to be writing on her next book (she is a writer), hasn’t written anything for a couple of weeks. Instead she spent her days and evenings out on the town with her mother and sister. Consequently, she doesn’t do any housework, especially not cooking.

Mike gets upsets when he comes home after a day of work and finds nothing to eat.  When he confronts Molly, saying that since she hasn’t done any productive work she should at least be cooking for him.

Here is where the funny part stops. Molly mocks him, saying it is not a woman’s job to cook for her husband. In one scene she gets dressed up like a maid and serves him breakfast in bed, saying things like, “Is my husband happy with his wife who just exists to serve him,” and stuff like that.

She even gets Mike’s mother involved. When he visits his mother, she brings him a beer, asks if she should make him something to eat and draw him a bath, saying she just does her job as a mother, making sure her son is happy. Of course, he figures out that it was Molly’s idea to have his mother act that way.



That episode surely conveyed a wrong picture of how a marriage works, and writing about it got me thinking.

It just so happens that men are the physically stronger gender (usually) and the women are weaker. Men are good at certain jobs and women can do some jobs better. For thousands of years it has been that the men do the physically demanding work, the early men went on hunts, more modern men worked on jobs like plowing the fields with primitive tools, cutting down trees, building homes and jobs like that. Backbreaking work. Women took care of the household and the children. Equally hard work but not requiring too much physical strength.

These days, of course, most jobs are not as demanding when it comes to physical strength. Some jobs have disappeared, others were created. Anyone can sit behind a computer or a desk, be it a man or a woman. More women are now in the workforce than ever before. Responsibilities have shifted. Roles have changed. If a woman makes more money she may become the breadwinner and the man stays home to raise the children and do the housework. Nothing wrong with that.

What is wrong is when one partner stays at home and does nothing and still expects the working partner to pitch in with the housework, like cooking, cleaning up and doing the laundry. There usually is still plenty of work to be done in the yard, the garage, or there are other chores, anyway. Chores the man, if he is the breadwinner, does most of time without question.

No woman should be slave to a man and neither should a man be slave to a woman. Marriage is a partnership where both partners are equal and they both to their part. Each partner should want to do things for the other one not out of duty but out of love and respect. There should be no such thing as ‘This is not my job’. TV shows like the episode of Mike and Molly don’t help. The put the wrong thoughts into a woman’s head.

I am aware my views are considered old-fashioned. I still think a man should be out there working, while a woman stays home with the children. Women are better suited to take care of the children, because of the biological connection they have. A man can never have that. This also means she does the cooking and the housework. It seems to go hand-in-hand. Many so-called modern and enlightened women seem to think differently. I’m not talking about lesbians who are probably man-haters and can never see that a woman does something for man out of love and because she wants to please him. I’m talking about a normal woman.

Unfortunately, the old ways don’t work anymore. It is almost imperative that both parents work do bring in enough money to make it possible to live a comfortable life, unless a man has such a good-paying job that he earns enough funds.

There are many underlying problems that brought this about. People are too demanding. They want new cars, bigger houses, all the modern gadgets like cell phones, big screen TVs, the movie channels, going on trips, a cottage etc. The children are involved in all kinds of activities that cost a lot of money.

The result is family life suffers.

When both partners work and there are children, the children end up in daycare.

In my humble opinion that is so wrong. Children need the love of their mother and not a care worker—a stranger. When children come home from school, the mother should be there. They should not come to an empty house.

My thinking is this: If a woman wants to have a career, she shouldn’t have children, because there is no room in her life for a child. If a child is raised by a stranger how can a mother ever hope to bond with her child? The children grow up so fast and before parents realize it the children are teenagers who will go their own way. The parents completely miss out on the joy of having little children around them all day long, teach them and watch them grow up. There is not much of a connection between them.

Oh, I know, many people will not agree with me. Just as they won’t agree with me when I say a woman should cook a meal for her husband if she is staying at home.

My wife does, even though I am retired and at home now, also. There is still plenty of work for me to do around the house and in the yard, but I do help with the dishes and other things. Not because I have to but because I want to. I even cook the occasional soup ☺. I love making and eating soups. (Many times I still ask her for advice, because she is the better cook. She is a woman, that’s why).

Wednesday, February 10, 2016

To #Shave or not to Shave...



Whoever came up with the idea that unshaven men look handsome and sexy? Was it a woman or just some gay guy? Why are so many men in commercials not shaved? Are there people out there who want to shape the appearance of men? It is easy enough. Most people don’t have a mind of their own. Young people believe that they are unique, master of their own destiny. Nobody tells them what to do. Right! That’s why there are so many people walking around with tattoos all over their bodies, or guys with rings in their ears, noses, lips, and other places, but that is another topic.

I believe some people call it the four-o-clock shadow on a man’s face, but I’m actually talking about some guy who hasn’t shaved for a couple of days, his face full of stubble; the way we look when my friends and I go hunting and spend a few days in the bush, away from civilization.

I can agree that a man can look rugged wearing a red plaid shirt, his brawny arms bare, carrying an axe in one hand, his hair kind of wild but not long and with a bit of a stubble beard. With the other hand he drags a tree out of the bush. Instead of an axe he might even be carrying a chainsaw.

Same goes for a hunter carrying a rifle in one hand and dragging a deer behind him—in the forest. The animals don’t care what you look like.

Imagine the same guy wearing a suit and carrying a briefcase in one hand and not shaved. He does not look rugged or handsome; he is and looks unshaven, in other words he looks like a bum who may not even have washed his hands and face and not brushed his teeth in the morning.

Perhaps my thinking is completely wrong. I don’t care much for guys with a scraggly, unruly beard, either. They look even more like homeless bums. They might even have lice living in those beards. (I wrote an article about that on my blog some time ago). Why would any civilized man want to look like those barbarians living in tents in the desert?

I’m a guy and as straight as they come. I like women (I mean just to look at. I’m not a ‘skirt-chaser’. After all, I’m a married guy. Let’s not forget that).

Being a civilized man, I like to dress neat and wear clean clothes. I’m not saying I wear a suit and a tie all the time, but a nice pair of pants (jeans are okay), and a clean shirt or a sweater, especially when I go shopping or to some casual function,like a movie or a trade show. No holes in the jeans. And I shave every morning. And comb my hair. (Yes, I’m lucky, I still have hair. Not as thick as it used to be but it is there). When I go visiting I like to dress even better.

I’m not a snob; perhaps I’m old-fashioned, but I just can’t accept holes in jeans or other parts of clothing, especially when I see celebrities on TV wearing clothing like that. They wear nice jackets but they have holes in their jeans. I think it is an insult to people who actually cannot afford a pair of new jeans.

Even when I was working on construction I didn’t wear ripped jeans. They might have had small holes in them but as soon as the holes got too large I either threw them away or my wife fixed the holes, or she cut off the bottom part and made shorts out of them. Of course, one can only wear so many shorts.  I have quite a few of them.

I have a pair of ‘garden-jeans’ with some tiny holes and even the odd little rip, but they don’t have large holes in the knee area. There is nothing more uncomfortable than having your knees pop out of holes. I saw just that in one of the last episodes of ‘Last man standing’, where one of the girls sits with her legs up on the couch and her knees are strangled by the hole in her jeans.

I’ve said it before: People are Monkeys. Monkey see monkey do. Young people (and some older ones, too) are impressionable. Young people see stuff like that on TV or in a magazine and they immediately think it is cool.

NO, IT ISN’T COOL! It is stupid. Don’t be a sheep and follow somebody who leads you astray!

My wife tells me to let it rest already when I comment on a girl’s or woman’s ripped jeans. “I’ve heard it often enough. It is time you get used to it.” At least she doesn’t wear her jeans like that. That is one good thing. She always dresses nice. Sometimes she even criticizes me when we go shopping: “You’re not wearing that!”

And I won’t.

How did I get from unshaven men to ripped jeans? My mind must be wandering.

Another question is popping into my head: Do men think a woman with long, straggly hair, uncombed, her eyes droopy and looking like she just crawled out of bed is sexy. Not in my book. Unless she is your wife, of course. That’s a different story.

My conclusion: If a man doesn't find a sloppy looking woman sexy or attractive, why would a woman find a guy who looks like a bum sexy?

Just in case my wife reads this blog: Honey, you look sexy all the time ☺.

Monday, February 8, 2016

Of Idiots and Morons



Mentally handicapped people are not idiots or morons—usually. They were born that way. Poor souls trapped in Earthly bodies that are not complete. They can’t help to be the way they are and need to be pitied. I’m not saying they should get away with criminal acts, but they are allowed to do unreasonable things.

Idiots and Morons are not the same.
#Idiots are fools.
A #Moron is a very stupid person. According to the dictionary an adult with the mind of an 8 year old. That is an insult to an 8 year old. I would not call an 8 year old a moron. Some 8 year olds are pretty smart.

I consider radicals and fanatics Idiots, especially religious radicals. People who strap bombs around their bodies and explode them while the bomb is on their body are Idiots and Morons.

Where am I going with this? Last week I heard in the news that one of those Morons boarded a plane, chose a window seat and blew himself up, obviously with the intention of taking the plane down, consequently murdering everyone on board.

Unfortunately, for him, the plan didn’t work out that way. The bomb went off, as planned. Since this smart suicide bomber sat in a window seat, the blast ripped a hole into the side of the plane and blew him out of the window. Good riddance. No one is going to miss him. Nobody else was evicted from the plane—just him. The plane landed safely and everyone on board lived. I don’t know where this happened, but that is not important.

I can just see this guy standing in front of his god:
“Now let me get this straight. You managed to blow only yourself up? Nobody else? You mean you came all this way alone? What kind of moron are you? Can’t you do anything right? No virgins for you, you dimwit! I think I’ll send you back as a woman and make you walk naked into an ISIS stronghold. That’ll teach you a lesson!”

#Dimwit is just another word for idiot.

Friday, February 5, 2016

Of Trends, Wastefulness and being Prudent



The employees of the company that produces Crown Royal Whiskey are contemplating going on strike. Obviously, they want more money and probably more benefits.

Are they nuts? In this economical environment people should be happy to have a job. And I’m sure they get paid well. Of course, the Union has other ideas. I’ve never been a friend of Unions.

Let’s assume they go on strike. Will it make any difference to most people? Even the ones who drink whiskey? I don’t believe so. There are other producers who make fine whiskey. People will just switch to a different brand, and the ones who refuse to buy another brand of whiskey because they believe that Crown Royal is the best are idiots.

I don’t drink much whiskey. In fact I don’t drink any hard liqueur. The only time I drink whiskey is mixed with either Ginger Ale of Seven-Up, and that only occasionally. The kind of soft drink I mix it with makes no difference to me. I don’t pay an arm and a leg for whiskey. I still have 3 bottles which I bought in Cuba. I paid around ten bucks for a one liter bottle. The whiskey was produced in Spain and it tastes just fine. I don’t see any point in putting expensive whiskey into a mix.

I don’t like paying lots of money for alcohol, be it beer or wine, or anything else. Some people make such a big fuss over the kind of beer or wine they drink, thumping their nose at cheaper varieties. That’s okay with me. Beer is beer. Most beers are alike. I buy the cheapest brand, which for me at this moment is Brewhouse. They charge $20.50 right now for a dozen cans, which in my opinion is still too much.  That’s why I make my own beer.

I also make my own wine. Some of it tastes better than the bought wines. One time we went out for dinner with my brother. He bought a fifty dollar bottle of wine. I tasted it and didn’t even like it. My own wines taste better. I buy kits of pure juice and just add water. When it comes to wine kits, I don’t buy the cheap ones, because they have less juice. The last one I bought had 16 liters of juice, which means I only had to add 7 liters of water. It is fermenting right now and I’m looking forward to drinking it in a few months. It does need aging and one needs to be patient.

The other day I had a conversation with a man who went to BC and bought wine there for $125.00 a bottle. When I sort of raised my eyebrows, he asked, “Wouldn’t you spend $125.00 for a bottle if you really liked it?”

Are you kidding me? I can spend 125 bucks on other things, but never on a bottle of wine. I don’t have that kind of money to throw away. Perhaps if I won Lotto Max I might and then I’m not so sure. No wine tastes that good. If I were a rabbit I may taste the difference. In case you are curious, a rabbit has 17,012 taste buds on its tongue while a human has from 2,000 to 8,000.

Most people are snobs. They believe just because it is expensive and certain people buy it, it must be good. I don’t fall for that mindset. For example, I never cared for Picasso’s paintings. Just because they sell for millions of dollars does not make them works of art.

I’m not saying all cheap stuff is good. Some stuff is cheap because it is crap; that’s why it is cheap. I would never buy cheap tools, unless they were on sale. However, there are some things where price makes no difference. We all have to remember, merchants take advantage of buyers. They know that most people will buy brand names or items that are popular, so they price their wares accordingly.

I went shopping the other day and looked at some shirts. When I saw 40% discount my curiosity was aroused, but when I looked at the ticked and the price was $125.00 after the discount I walked away. I should be put into an insane asylum to pay that kind of money for a shirt. Again, if I were the CEO of a company I just might go for it, but I don’t associate with people who would even notice my expensive shirt. Same goes for pants and other pieces of clothing.

If it weren’t for my wife, I probably would still wear my clothes I wore in the eighties or even earlier. I don’t follow trends. I see no reason to buy new clothes every year. Some people do, they keep on buying new clothes, furniture, appliances, the latest phone etc. and that’s why they never have money, no matter how much they earn.

I grew up after the First World War. We were happy to have clothing at all. I wore used clothing and my mom knitted our sweaters, socks and other items. If they had holes in them, my mom mended them. Nobody worried about fashions or trends.

I think most people in the Western World have never experienced hard times. They have no idea what it means not to have anything to wear or go hungry. That’s why they waste food and other stuff. Nobody fixes anything anymore. It all goes to the dump.

I’ve been doing some cleaning in the storage room and I’m throwing away stuff I’ve had hanging around for years. Stuff that is broken and cannot be fixed. Among the items are 6 battery operated drills. Actually, they work just fine, except for the batteries. They are dead and won’t keep the charge anymore. Replacement batteries cost more than what I paid for the drills. So into the garbage they go. What a shame, but the drills are useless to me and just take up space. So it goes. All of us are guilty of wasting stuff.

Tuesday, February 2, 2016

The Man who pissed from the Bus



In the news this morning about a school bus driver who relieved himself onto the sidewalk standing in the door of his bus. According to a witness, he did this every day. A woman took videos of that criminal act and went public.

The woman called the bus company, but they, apparently, did nothing about it.  She didn’t want the man to lose his job over it, but she was bothered by the man’s activity, so she finally went to the media. Because of that, the company fired the man.

Now, I don’t condone urinating onto the sidewalk or against a building, but it probably happens every day downtown. This is the thing: okay, so the man urinated onto a public sidewalk; he probably had a weak bladder, but he had a job. Unfortunately, now he lost it, because of an unpleasant habit.

If that woman was so concerned about it but didn’t want to cause the unfortunate man any trouble, she should have waited until he was done with his business and then confront him. Instead, she decided to go public with her story. Because of that, she didn’t leave the company any choice but to fire the man.

Congratulations, lady. You are now officially a member of the Club of Do-gooders who usually do more harm than good. You’ve managed to cause a man to lose his job. He probably will have trouble finding another one when he has to explain why he was fired, but you are keeping the city safe from people who piss onto the sidewalk.

Keep up the good work, but your job may not be done. There are still plenty of people out there who use a tree in the park or another public spot to do their business. Many probably have no jobs they are in danger of losing because of some Watcher-of-the-Righteous-guild who reports this sort of crime. That may not be as satisfactory, though. Good hunting.

Not everyone will agree with my evaluation of this situation; I know my wife doesn’t. She thinks that woman did the right thing. Well, everyone is entitled to their opinion. I for one think she was wrong. She’s a busybody. I don’t care much for busybodies and do-gooders. There is much more stuff going on in the world that needs fixing and our attention. Pissing from a bus is not exactly a world-shattering event.

Monday, February 1, 2016

My Dad



February 1st is another sad anniversary for me. As we get older we collect more and more of those days.

My dad passed away on February 1st, 1983. 33 years have past since then, but that day is forever burnt into my mind. I can recall every moment of it. My dad had been in the hospital for a year after suffering a stroke that left him partially paralyzed. His mind was still not bad, but not great anymore, either.

I visited him in the late afternoon on January 31st. My mom was already there and she called me from the hospital. When I answered the phone, it was my dad who was on it. He said, “Please, come, before it is too late.”

When I got to the hospital, he sat in a wheelchair in the corridor and when he saw me stepping out of the elevator, he waved all excitedly and called my name. I was the only one he still recognized. He didn’t recognize my brother anymore when he came to visit, which wasn’t often. My brother actually lived in Alberta at the time.

My mom and I went home in he early evening, but the hospital called us at 10:00 PM and told us my dad had slipped into a coma. When we got there he lay in his bed with an oxygen mask over his mouth. I called his name a few times and he regained consciousness. My mom said to him, “Jesus will come soon.” He looked at her and said, “No, Jesus isn’t coming.”

He seemed quite lucid and we talked. We stayed with him until 4:00 AM, but I was getting tired and I said to him, “We’ll be going home now, Dad.”

He smiled and said, “I’m going home now, too.”

The hospital called us in the morning and told us that my dad has passed away at 8:00 AM. It was the first day of February, a day I’ll never forget.

I still had so many questions I wanted to ask him, things I wanted to tell him, but in our busy lives we never have time to talk much with our parents. Only after they are gone, we realize all the opportunities we have missed; all the things that were left unsaid.

I am getting to that stage in my life now where I would like to discuss my experiences with my children, tell them about my life before they were born, but they are now where I was when I was their age, busy with their own lives. I’m afraid there are stories that will never be told.

However, I am doing something my dad never did. I am writing about my life and perhaps my children and grandchildren will read about it after I have left this Earth.

Just maybe


.