My Other Life

This picture is of Cheryl on a "bad" day. I know I make her out to be all sweet and loving but let me tell you when her eyes are green the cat and I head for the nearest safe place.

Do any of you watch "Dancing With The Stars"? Where do they get these judges from and what gives them the right to belittle someone in front of a national audience. Last night that jerk, Len, told Jerry Rice he was the worst. You just don't do that. Maybe Jerry's dance wasn't as good as the others but you don't tell him, "you are the worst". Jerry showed he was a real gentleman in the way he handled it. That Carrie Ann is nothing but a snobby snot and Bruno, well the name says it all. Of course my favorite, Stacey with the long legs, did her usual best. The contest truly is between Drew and her with Lisa coming in third. In my opinion Lisa tries to use her sexuality too much to draw votes. Okay, enough from the arm chair quarterback.

Hollyberry the pill I use you would not want since it is designed for men only. (Read between the lines) Dottie thank you so much for the information on your blog and I do appreciate and understand some of your reasoning. Schlaum (I know I spelled that wrong so forgive me) I just come across pictures that I think are funny or have a story to associate with them so I keep them in a file on my computer. Thank all of you for reading my blog. You must lead some very boring lives to want to read my drivel. Of course all you Canadians are just getting indoor plumbing so reading is still down on the list. (Oh I think I will pay for that one.)

I was thinking last night about my life before my marriage. This was back in the days when I sowed a few wild oats, nothing serious but still a little wild. I was raised by a religious family of Mormons, we call ourselves Latter Day Saints, but I was a true Scot-Irish person who resented authority and rebelled every chance I got. Naturally I got tired of all the restrictions, or so I thought, on my personal life. I did not like being told who I could pal around with nor did I like being told I could not do this or that.

I worked in Jackson, WY for the Teton Forest Service and each weekend we would come back from the mountains to have some R&R and play some fast pitch softball. One weekend my friends and I met up with some girls from "Iowa" (Sarah are you reading this?) and we proceeded to become inebriated quite well. In the process we decided we were going to go and poach a deer; at midnight no less. As luck would have it a stupid deer crossed our path and I shot it with a 22 rifle and killed it with one shot. Even drunk I was a good shot. We took it home to hang up in the shed, which did not make anyone very happy there. Then we left for Jackson for the rest of the evening and next day.

The next day I had a softball game and the girls wanted to go and watch. I parked my old 59 Ford next to the backstop, went to play some softball, while the girls procurred a case of beer and was getting higher than a kite on the hood of my car. Who should pull up beside my car to watch the game but my folks and my sister. I didn't dare even look to see what those girls were doing but I could sure hear them. Needless to say the folks kept looking at my car, looking at those girls and then glaring out at me.

I mention this because it is funny now but at the time I knew I was in some serious doo doo. If looks could kill, that night I met my death many times over.

Do I tell my kids these stories? Yes, I do. They know how their Dad feels about drinking and families and realize that was another life that I have left far behind. When I met Cheryl and she decided we should get married I told her I used to drink somewhat but if I was getting married it had no place in my life as a family man and have never touched it since. I will say this though; on those days when it is very hot and dry the thoughts of an ice cold beer sure seem good. Some day I will write about how I cured myself of drinking hard liquor. Just the smell of that stuff makes me want to vomit.

So there you have it. Another chapter in the boring life of the Ramblin' Irishman who has turned to sainthood. Thanks again for reading my blog and letting me read yours. (Hah, as if you can stop me from reading yours.)

Off to do some more YEEEE HAWWWING!!!