Some folks like the summertime when they can walk about
Strolling through the meadow green it's fun there's no doubt
But give me the wintertime when snow falls all around
For I found her when the snow was on the ground
Well i traced them footprints in the snow
I traced the footprints in the snow
I can't forget the day my darling lost her way
And I found her when the snow was on the ground
Well I dropped in to see her there was a big round moon
Her mother said she just stepped out be returnin' soon
I found her little footprints and I traced them thru the snow
I found her when the snow was on the ground
Well I traced them footprints in the snow
I traced the footprints in the snow
I can't forget the day my darling lost her way
And I found her when the snow was on the ground
Now she's up in heaven she's with an angel band
I know I gonna meet her in that promised land
But every time the snow falls it brings back memories
Footprints in the Snow
Roger Miller
Buck
For i found her when the snow was on the ground
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Friday, January 29, 2010
I've been thinking. I know that I usually get into trouble when I start doing that kind of thing. What have I been thinking about? Books.
I love books. I love reading. I love the language that authors use to express their vision. I even envy the way they use language. I've found myself thinking, "That's a good word. People should use that word more often." Only to forget the word the next morning when I wake up.
I've been reading a coaching book the past couple of days. I'm even taking notes on it. It isn't so much a book on how to coach inasmuch as it is a philosophy book written by a coach. The book centers around a new approach to passing in volleyball.
Tanden (Tahn-dun) Passing. Core Passing. It is a technique that almost every volleyball player is taught and can be summed up by saying, "Don't swing". Yet, the philosophy behind it is much deeper. Very eastern in the approach to getting the players to pass in their core. There are points in the book where the author brings attention to certain zones in the body where energy is stored, how to access that energy, how to conserve it...lots of crazy stuff. At least to a guy that has seen the insides of the human body. (There are no tupperware containers labeled, "ENERGY STORAGE")
Some of the coaches that I work with swear by this idea, and mode of teaching. I don't. Don't get me wrong, it gives me another method of instruction and I dig that. But it isn't the end all be all. It won't make your players perfect passers. Repetition will take care of that, commitment from the player will take care of that, desire to be perfect will take care of that.
I've had seven different coaches. The only thing that stayed constant between all of them was how we passed. Low, athletic stance, hands together, thumbs pointing as far down as possible, forearms as flat as possible. Now, you have a platform. In platform passing the object is to keep the platform as solid as possible while keeping it in your core. Why in the core? Keep it in the core because that is where the platform is the most stable.
When I compare platform and tanden passing techniques I come to a pretty cool conclusion. I was taught to pass in tanden. But my coaches left out the crazy hippie stuff.
Books are cool. They can bring you to look at something old in a new light. If you take the time to be an active participant in reading.
Buck
I love books. I love reading. I love the language that authors use to express their vision. I even envy the way they use language. I've found myself thinking, "That's a good word. People should use that word more often." Only to forget the word the next morning when I wake up.
I've been reading a coaching book the past couple of days. I'm even taking notes on it. It isn't so much a book on how to coach inasmuch as it is a philosophy book written by a coach. The book centers around a new approach to passing in volleyball.
Tanden (Tahn-dun) Passing. Core Passing. It is a technique that almost every volleyball player is taught and can be summed up by saying, "Don't swing". Yet, the philosophy behind it is much deeper. Very eastern in the approach to getting the players to pass in their core. There are points in the book where the author brings attention to certain zones in the body where energy is stored, how to access that energy, how to conserve it...lots of crazy stuff. At least to a guy that has seen the insides of the human body. (There are no tupperware containers labeled, "ENERGY STORAGE")
Some of the coaches that I work with swear by this idea, and mode of teaching. I don't. Don't get me wrong, it gives me another method of instruction and I dig that. But it isn't the end all be all. It won't make your players perfect passers. Repetition will take care of that, commitment from the player will take care of that, desire to be perfect will take care of that.
I've had seven different coaches. The only thing that stayed constant between all of them was how we passed. Low, athletic stance, hands together, thumbs pointing as far down as possible, forearms as flat as possible. Now, you have a platform. In platform passing the object is to keep the platform as solid as possible while keeping it in your core. Why in the core? Keep it in the core because that is where the platform is the most stable.
When I compare platform and tanden passing techniques I come to a pretty cool conclusion. I was taught to pass in tanden. But my coaches left out the crazy hippie stuff.
Books are cool. They can bring you to look at something old in a new light. If you take the time to be an active participant in reading.
Buck
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Winkin' Blinkin'
Sunday was my team's first tournament. To say that they were ready for it would be stretching the truth. To say that they were unprepared would be a flat out lie. Sadly, I can not think of the proper word to fit the manner in which they played and comported themselves.
Tournaments are strange out here. Pool play still abides by round-robin rules, but there are no best of three matches. Rather, there are two games to 21 points with no cap in hopes to speed up the process. Cheats the players I think, but it also saves on having two day tournaments. Pluses and minuses everywhere.
The first match we split sets. (The new fancy lingo for a game. I hate it.)
The second match we won both.
The third match we won both and took lead in the pool.
The fourth split sets and dropped to second in the pool.
Bracket play started. We played the fourth seed and took them all the way to three sets losing by six points overall. This shouldn't have happened. We should have won outright in two. There were a few hiccups along the way involving not communicating, poor serve reception, and more than a few scorer errors.
Sadly, with all of the father's taking detailed stats, and one mother running a score sheet I still had no tangible proof to present to the R1 when I very politely asked her to keep her players on task at the scorer's table. - Only USA Volleyball members are allowed to keep score in official capacity, I was busy coaching and the girls sitting never sat long enough to keep scores - The R1 told me to shut up and turn in a line up before the two minute deadline. I then asked if she would sound the whistle so I would know when that was. It was a proper request and within my rights to ask for a warning prior to a time deadline. She told me to stop crying about losing a set and coach my team. At that point I might have lost it a little bit. While walking back to my bench I casually asked her how I should coach the team that beat her out of a spot in bracket play.
She didn't like that. Not. One. Bit.
She called me back to the stand and gave me a verbal warning along with a yellow card and a delay of play sanction. - At this point the Dad's in the stands went nuts. - I protested the sanction since line ups were not checked, nor had play resumed. She actually retracted the sanction but still gave me the yellow and the verbal warnings with a promise that I would be ejected if I kept pushing the issue. In order to comply with her directions I turned around and walked to the bench filling out my line up. She called me right back to the stand and in a snarky tone of voice asked me to thank her.
I didn't like that. Not. One. Bit.
So with an overly polite smile and curt thanks, I walked to the scorers table and turned in my line up.
The girls were upset that we lost because of stupid mistakes and clerical errors to which I said, "Whaa. It happens. Ignore the peanut gallery, win as many points as you can." To which Carolynn asked, "What's a peanut gallery?" I told her to forget it, just play each point.
Overall, it was a decent tournament. I fear that knowing the rules better than the other coaches and refs might get me into more trouble down the line.
Kind of like it did for Dad when he was coaching me in basketball. Good times.
We've got our work cut out for us though. All the girls want to do is hit, and hit, and hit. But if we can't put a serve in play, nor pass a ball that's been served at us...We're never going to get the chance to hit.
Tonight we played a little game that I call "Kill the setter", which Maddie hates. A game that I hated. But, it gets the blood pumping, the body warm, and a nice lather of sweat is produced. Then for the next hour we did serve receive. Where I was the server. Went through all of the rotations, and I think I've found one of the problems. They don't move. They watch the ball, unless it comes right at them.
I need some testosterone shots to give them to make them more aggressive.
Sunday will be conditioning and serving.
Unless I get ejected.
Buck
Tournaments are strange out here. Pool play still abides by round-robin rules, but there are no best of three matches. Rather, there are two games to 21 points with no cap in hopes to speed up the process. Cheats the players I think, but it also saves on having two day tournaments. Pluses and minuses everywhere.
The first match we split sets. (The new fancy lingo for a game. I hate it.)
The second match we won both.
The third match we won both and took lead in the pool.
The fourth split sets and dropped to second in the pool.
Bracket play started. We played the fourth seed and took them all the way to three sets losing by six points overall. This shouldn't have happened. We should have won outright in two. There were a few hiccups along the way involving not communicating, poor serve reception, and more than a few scorer errors.
Sadly, with all of the father's taking detailed stats, and one mother running a score sheet I still had no tangible proof to present to the R1 when I very politely asked her to keep her players on task at the scorer's table. - Only USA Volleyball members are allowed to keep score in official capacity, I was busy coaching and the girls sitting never sat long enough to keep scores - The R1 told me to shut up and turn in a line up before the two minute deadline. I then asked if she would sound the whistle so I would know when that was. It was a proper request and within my rights to ask for a warning prior to a time deadline. She told me to stop crying about losing a set and coach my team. At that point I might have lost it a little bit. While walking back to my bench I casually asked her how I should coach the team that beat her out of a spot in bracket play.
She didn't like that. Not. One. Bit.
She called me back to the stand and gave me a verbal warning along with a yellow card and a delay of play sanction. - At this point the Dad's in the stands went nuts. - I protested the sanction since line ups were not checked, nor had play resumed. She actually retracted the sanction but still gave me the yellow and the verbal warnings with a promise that I would be ejected if I kept pushing the issue. In order to comply with her directions I turned around and walked to the bench filling out my line up. She called me right back to the stand and in a snarky tone of voice asked me to thank her.
I didn't like that. Not. One. Bit.
So with an overly polite smile and curt thanks, I walked to the scorers table and turned in my line up.
The girls were upset that we lost because of stupid mistakes and clerical errors to which I said, "Whaa. It happens. Ignore the peanut gallery, win as many points as you can." To which Carolynn asked, "What's a peanut gallery?" I told her to forget it, just play each point.
Overall, it was a decent tournament. I fear that knowing the rules better than the other coaches and refs might get me into more trouble down the line.
Kind of like it did for Dad when he was coaching me in basketball. Good times.
We've got our work cut out for us though. All the girls want to do is hit, and hit, and hit. But if we can't put a serve in play, nor pass a ball that's been served at us...We're never going to get the chance to hit.
Tonight we played a little game that I call "Kill the setter", which Maddie hates. A game that I hated. But, it gets the blood pumping, the body warm, and a nice lather of sweat is produced. Then for the next hour we did serve receive. Where I was the server. Went through all of the rotations, and I think I've found one of the problems. They don't move. They watch the ball, unless it comes right at them.
I need some testosterone shots to give them to make them more aggressive.
Sunday will be conditioning and serving.
Unless I get ejected.
Buck
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
And then his heart grew three sizes.
There is a poster. It isn't a fancy poster, nor is it a pretty poster. In fact it is a homemade poster made on the back of another poster. It is made with electrical tape and Sharpie's. The message of the poster is something that I never really comprehended until two days ago. The message is very simple. COACHING = TEACHING = PARENTING. I've never really felt like teachers lump themselves in as parents and coaches. I guess I never really thought of any of the three being the same as the others. But being around my team for 8 hours during the day then another 2 at practice gave me the opportunity to step out of the coaching shoes. Gave me a chance to get to know the girls more than just what they've shown and shared on the court. The Spiketacular tourney was a success by and large. Johnston teams played Johnston teams in the finals for the 15's, 17's, and 18's. The 16's lost in three for the consolation. I didn't really have to do a whole lot of work, I was basically the guy that updates the scores on the "Big Board" calculated point spreads for seeding. Make sure the scorers table has new score sheets, line-ups, libero tracking sheets. But the best part was I got to settle disputes! I got to to tell people to shut up. I HAD THE ULTIMATE POWER! It was pretty cool.
One of the Johnston teams was playing in an older girls age bracket. Because of this one of the weaker players didn't play in the first match. The girl didn't have a problem with it because she was tired, and the coach made some very good points and reasons for not playing her. After the match (which was won in 2 sets), the coach was at the scorers table where I was doing my thing with numbers and asked if she could talk to me for a minute. I finished up and met her out in the hallway where two parents started yelling at the coach and me. Right in front of their daughter and their daughters teammates that had just won a match. Amy was trying to calm them down because she is a very nice person. I on the other hand, don't enjoy being yelled at when I haven't done anything to deserve it. I might have snapped a little bit, "The three of you come with me. Now!" Walk away from the team, into a different hallway away from people where a battle royal would go unnoticed.
Once we get into the hallway I asked to be brought to speed and would do everything in my power (which was ultimate at the moment)to correct any wrongs. The mother starts bashing the coach for not putting her daughter in, how there is no reason to be spending all this money to have their daughter sit for a whole match, the coach must not understand her job, etc. I asked them to stay put for 2 minutes and took the coach aside. Explained that they're pissed and want to know why the daughter didn't play. I was told what I already knew that the girl is a very weak player, the coach is trying different line-ups seeing what fits best, and that she shouldn't have to tell the parents any of her process.
Time for Buck to do some Solomon stuff now.
Walk back with the coach to the parents. Mother opened her mouth to say something and all I did was say "Wait." I told her that I had heard both sides of the misunderstanding and was going to try to find a middle ground. But, the facts of the matter are pretty simple. First, the fee goes to practice time, not playing time. Coaches get final say on who plays and who doesn't because they are the ones that understand the game and the team compatibility the best. Second, in the contract that your daughter and YOU signed says that you will not confront a coach before 24 hours after an incident. If you had followed that rule of the contract you would probably have calmed down and seen your daughter play. You have a guarantee of 4 matches in pool play alone she'll play today. Third, don't do something like this in front of the girls, they pick up on your attitude and will probably start resenting your daughter, your daughter will be embarrassed, then she'll get mad at the other girls and the coach.... You're parents, I can't empathize, but I do sympathize with you wanting to see your daughter excel and play. Just don't confront the coach on the day of the tournament. Wait until Monday or Tuesday.
Now mother looks at father, he sighs and tries to persuade me to make the coach play their daughter. I laughed and flat out said, "You are nuts if you think I'm going to tell another coach how to do their job." If it was a safety issue, or negligence...that's different. But I don't know her team from Adam, how am I going to coach them? Father tried again with a threat of taking their daughter out of the program. I don't like threats. I asked if that would be the best thing for their daughter. Plus, there wouldn't be a refund. She could not playing in a match or not playing until the school season; which one sounds more appealing? I encouraged the parents to pull their daughter aside and ask her how she felt about the situation, then get back to me, not the coach. Mother leaves in a huff, Father rolls his eyes and follows. (I have come to understand why my parents hated when I rolled my eyes. Wanted to smack him till his eyes stopped rolling.)
The coach looked over at me and said, "It's the beard." Which threw me for a loop, I laughed and asked her to explain. She said people with beards are more intimidating and can influence others more readily than a 21 year old woman can. I laughed again and said, "Here I thought it was my mittens." (I was rocking the mittens that Kate made for me. The gym was freezing) She laughed and said thanks then walked off to join her team.
My question is, How do parents get so wrapped up in what their child is doing that they think it's ok to then embarrass that child in front of their peers and coach? I felt bad for the girl who broke down crying at her parents when I took them into the other hall.
For me coming from player to official to coach my view on things have changed. Used to be the refs were rats. Then it went to the coaches are rats. Now it's the parents being rats. Some of my players act more mature than their folks, which is really weird. Then again, most of the Dads have no idea what is going on. Mom isn't much better. Both have no clue what to shout as far as encouragement goes, so I had a parents meeting with them and taught them the basics, and some of the cues I say. I also gave all of the fathers stat sheets and scouting sheets. Taught them how to work the numbers and what to look for as far as scouting. That way they feel like they are helping the team and their daughter get better.
Stroke some egos, grease some hands. Coaching is hard.
Buck
One of the Johnston teams was playing in an older girls age bracket. Because of this one of the weaker players didn't play in the first match. The girl didn't have a problem with it because she was tired, and the coach made some very good points and reasons for not playing her. After the match (which was won in 2 sets), the coach was at the scorers table where I was doing my thing with numbers and asked if she could talk to me for a minute. I finished up and met her out in the hallway where two parents started yelling at the coach and me. Right in front of their daughter and their daughters teammates that had just won a match. Amy was trying to calm them down because she is a very nice person. I on the other hand, don't enjoy being yelled at when I haven't done anything to deserve it. I might have snapped a little bit, "The three of you come with me. Now!" Walk away from the team, into a different hallway away from people where a battle royal would go unnoticed.
Once we get into the hallway I asked to be brought to speed and would do everything in my power (which was ultimate at the moment)to correct any wrongs. The mother starts bashing the coach for not putting her daughter in, how there is no reason to be spending all this money to have their daughter sit for a whole match, the coach must not understand her job, etc. I asked them to stay put for 2 minutes and took the coach aside. Explained that they're pissed and want to know why the daughter didn't play. I was told what I already knew that the girl is a very weak player, the coach is trying different line-ups seeing what fits best, and that she shouldn't have to tell the parents any of her process.
Time for Buck to do some Solomon stuff now.
Walk back with the coach to the parents. Mother opened her mouth to say something and all I did was say "Wait." I told her that I had heard both sides of the misunderstanding and was going to try to find a middle ground. But, the facts of the matter are pretty simple. First, the fee goes to practice time, not playing time. Coaches get final say on who plays and who doesn't because they are the ones that understand the game and the team compatibility the best. Second, in the contract that your daughter and YOU signed says that you will not confront a coach before 24 hours after an incident. If you had followed that rule of the contract you would probably have calmed down and seen your daughter play. You have a guarantee of 4 matches in pool play alone she'll play today. Third, don't do something like this in front of the girls, they pick up on your attitude and will probably start resenting your daughter, your daughter will be embarrassed, then she'll get mad at the other girls and the coach.... You're parents, I can't empathize, but I do sympathize with you wanting to see your daughter excel and play. Just don't confront the coach on the day of the tournament. Wait until Monday or Tuesday.
Now mother looks at father, he sighs and tries to persuade me to make the coach play their daughter. I laughed and flat out said, "You are nuts if you think I'm going to tell another coach how to do their job." If it was a safety issue, or negligence...that's different. But I don't know her team from Adam, how am I going to coach them? Father tried again with a threat of taking their daughter out of the program. I don't like threats. I asked if that would be the best thing for their daughter. Plus, there wouldn't be a refund. She could not playing in a match or not playing until the school season; which one sounds more appealing? I encouraged the parents to pull their daughter aside and ask her how she felt about the situation, then get back to me, not the coach. Mother leaves in a huff, Father rolls his eyes and follows. (I have come to understand why my parents hated when I rolled my eyes. Wanted to smack him till his eyes stopped rolling.)
The coach looked over at me and said, "It's the beard." Which threw me for a loop, I laughed and asked her to explain. She said people with beards are more intimidating and can influence others more readily than a 21 year old woman can. I laughed again and said, "Here I thought it was my mittens." (I was rocking the mittens that Kate made for me. The gym was freezing) She laughed and said thanks then walked off to join her team.
My question is, How do parents get so wrapped up in what their child is doing that they think it's ok to then embarrass that child in front of their peers and coach? I felt bad for the girl who broke down crying at her parents when I took them into the other hall.
For me coming from player to official to coach my view on things have changed. Used to be the refs were rats. Then it went to the coaches are rats. Now it's the parents being rats. Some of my players act more mature than their folks, which is really weird. Then again, most of the Dads have no idea what is going on. Mom isn't much better. Both have no clue what to shout as far as encouragement goes, so I had a parents meeting with them and taught them the basics, and some of the cues I say. I also gave all of the fathers stat sheets and scouting sheets. Taught them how to work the numbers and what to look for as far as scouting. That way they feel like they are helping the team and their daughter get better.
Stroke some egos, grease some hands. Coaching is hard.
Buck
Sunday, January 17, 2010
रेपली तो कुओतेस
"You gotta screw that in, then pop that out, then slide it over." - the hand gestures were reversed.
Me - "How 'bout you show me on the first one, then I'll do the rest."
"If the door's locked, try the other one."
Me - "You been drinking?"
"I'd rather be in Canada."
Me - "'s cooold up der."
"I can't raise my hand." - while raising her hand
Me with the cocked eyebrow - "Really?"
"If you're from Illinois why don't you talk funny?"
Me - "You're from Dowling. Why don't you?"
"If I have to bring a dozen baked things for the tournament, and I wrap them in two's, how many do I have to bring?"
Me - "We haven't done fractions yet." (Nobody got it)
"Why does my hand hurt when I hit the ball?"
Me - "Because you haven't had an hour and 15 minute practice of just hitting and serving. Welcome to club ball."
"What do you mean low to the net?"
Me - "You have two options. Rainbow gumdrop serve or flat serve. Which one is harder to pass?" After I demonstrated both types they understood.
"I'm sitting against the wall, you never said I couldn't use a chair."
Me - "Smarty pants. Do it right, then you've got 10 ball." The team punishment drill.
"Have a damn cupcake. It's my birthday. EAT IT!"
Me - "Easy there Sparky, I'll take one, and happy birthday but I ain't gonna like it!"
Buck
Me - "How 'bout you show me on the first one, then I'll do the rest."
"If the door's locked, try the other one."
Me - "You been drinking?"
"I'd rather be in Canada."
Me - "'s cooold up der."
"I can't raise my hand." - while raising her hand
Me with the cocked eyebrow - "Really?"
"If you're from Illinois why don't you talk funny?"
Me - "You're from Dowling. Why don't you?"
"If I have to bring a dozen baked things for the tournament, and I wrap them in two's, how many do I have to bring?"
Me - "We haven't done fractions yet." (Nobody got it)
"Why does my hand hurt when I hit the ball?"
Me - "Because you haven't had an hour and 15 minute practice of just hitting and serving. Welcome to club ball."
"What do you mean low to the net?"
Me - "You have two options. Rainbow gumdrop serve or flat serve. Which one is harder to pass?" After I demonstrated both types they understood.
"I'm sitting against the wall, you never said I couldn't use a chair."
Me - "Smarty pants. Do it right, then you've got 10 ball." The team punishment drill.
"Have a damn cupcake. It's my birthday. EAT IT!"
Me - "Easy there Sparky, I'll take one, and happy birthday but I ain't gonna like it!"
Buck
Thursday, January 14, 2010
A day of quotes
"You gotta screw that in, then pop that out, then slide it over." - the hand gestures were reversed.
"If the door's locked, try the other one."
"I'd rather be in Canada."
"I can't raise my hand." - while raising her hand
"If you're from Illinois why don't you talk funny?"
"If I have to bring a dozen baked things for the tournament, and I wrap them in two's, how many do I have to bring?"
"Why does my hand hurt when I hit the ball?"
"What do you mean low to the net?"
"I'm sitting against the wall, you never said I couldn't use a chair."
"Have a damn cupcake. It's my birthday. EAT IT!"
None of them are my quotes
Strange day.
Buck
"If the door's locked, try the other one."
"I'd rather be in Canada."
"I can't raise my hand." - while raising her hand
"If you're from Illinois why don't you talk funny?"
"If I have to bring a dozen baked things for the tournament, and I wrap them in two's, how many do I have to bring?"
"Why does my hand hurt when I hit the ball?"
"What do you mean low to the net?"
"I'm sitting against the wall, you never said I couldn't use a chair."
"Have a damn cupcake. It's my birthday. EAT IT!"
None of them are my quotes
Strange day.
Buck
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Your thoughts will soon be wanderin'
Once again, I'm caught between the waking world and the world of Nod. Couple of updates. I have to plan a trip to IL in June, apparently there's a wedding or something. Bailey's planning on coming out here for a couple of days this weekend. Once again, I find myself in the heartbreak hotel.
I suppose I shouldn't be all that surprised that I'm back to being a single low-income under 25 male. It hit Sarah harder than it is hitting me, but I don't feel all sorts of happy about it. I'm keeping myself busy so I don't have to think too much, but she called me today. I think she was trying to mend fences, but she threw about six bags of salt into a re-opened wound.
She asked how I was doing to which I answered honestly, "I'm sitting in moldy water." After she asked me to explain why I would be doing that I told her that I was helping tear out and install dishwashers out at the farms. She asked if I had a minute to talk, which I did since we were cleaning up and just telling lies. She asked for my train of thought on the break up to which I answered, "I'm not." Since I'm really trying not to. She waited me out till I put in an on the fly two-cents saying, "As long as once of us is happy, I'm sure it's for the best." She didn't like that, said she was worried about me and how all of her friends are taking her out to Champaign this weekend to have a little shindig.
"Great," I said, "Bailey's planning on making trails out this way, and knowing the two of us we'll probably have a fair bit of shindigging too."
"Oh, I thought you have a tournament this weekend."
"I do, 6-9 on Sunday."
"Oh, ok. I meant to ask, whatever happened with Bailey's dad?"
"He died." Thinking that would stop that line of questioning. I was wrong.
"Really? That's why you went to Kankakee and never visited me?"
"Yes, plus you were in Minnesota. It's not like I went to have a good time. I went to support my friend and his family."
"Yeah, but how did it happen?"
"I hopped in my truck, drove down to 55, then hopped on 66 till I hit 17."
"Smartass. I meant his dad."
"I don't know all the details, all I know was that it happened quick and sudden."
"I guess it doesn't really matter that much."
"Um...Excuse me?"
"I don't know, it just doesn't really matter that much."
"Ok, one of the guys that I would do pretty much anything for loses his old man, and you say it doesn't really matter that much?! Are you kidding?! Let's not forget the fact that this is the third parent of guys I call brothers that I was able to be around for in three years. That matters a hell of a lot more than you think."
"Yeah, it must be soooo tough for you."
"You know what, I gotta go to work. Enjoy getting drunk."
I share that bit of dialog with my friend KT when she called me with her wedding date which got moved up to accommodate her brother being called up to active duty. She replied with, "She's not allowed at my wedding."
Maybe I'm feeling sentimental so I can't sleep. Maybe I'm kicking myself for not being closer with the people I care about before they aren't there so I can't sleep. Maybe I'm just a bleeding heart so I can't sleep.
I don't know.
It'll be good to see Bailey again under better circumstances. I'm very happy for KT and Phill, even if it does mean that I'm going to have to take time off of work. But maybe I can kill two birds with one stone when I'm in town. And the light is always on for me in the Heartbreak Hotel.
Buck.
I suppose I shouldn't be all that surprised that I'm back to being a single low-income under 25 male. It hit Sarah harder than it is hitting me, but I don't feel all sorts of happy about it. I'm keeping myself busy so I don't have to think too much, but she called me today. I think she was trying to mend fences, but she threw about six bags of salt into a re-opened wound.
She asked how I was doing to which I answered honestly, "I'm sitting in moldy water." After she asked me to explain why I would be doing that I told her that I was helping tear out and install dishwashers out at the farms. She asked if I had a minute to talk, which I did since we were cleaning up and just telling lies. She asked for my train of thought on the break up to which I answered, "I'm not." Since I'm really trying not to. She waited me out till I put in an on the fly two-cents saying, "As long as once of us is happy, I'm sure it's for the best." She didn't like that, said she was worried about me and how all of her friends are taking her out to Champaign this weekend to have a little shindig.
"Great," I said, "Bailey's planning on making trails out this way, and knowing the two of us we'll probably have a fair bit of shindigging too."
"Oh, I thought you have a tournament this weekend."
"I do, 6-9 on Sunday."
"Oh, ok. I meant to ask, whatever happened with Bailey's dad?"
"He died." Thinking that would stop that line of questioning. I was wrong.
"Really? That's why you went to Kankakee and never visited me?"
"Yes, plus you were in Minnesota. It's not like I went to have a good time. I went to support my friend and his family."
"Yeah, but how did it happen?"
"I hopped in my truck, drove down to 55, then hopped on 66 till I hit 17."
"Smartass. I meant his dad."
"I don't know all the details, all I know was that it happened quick and sudden."
"I guess it doesn't really matter that much."
"Um...Excuse me?"
"I don't know, it just doesn't really matter that much."
"Ok, one of the guys that I would do pretty much anything for loses his old man, and you say it doesn't really matter that much?! Are you kidding?! Let's not forget the fact that this is the third parent of guys I call brothers that I was able to be around for in three years. That matters a hell of a lot more than you think."
"Yeah, it must be soooo tough for you."
"You know what, I gotta go to work. Enjoy getting drunk."
I share that bit of dialog with my friend KT when she called me with her wedding date which got moved up to accommodate her brother being called up to active duty. She replied with, "She's not allowed at my wedding."
Maybe I'm feeling sentimental so I can't sleep. Maybe I'm kicking myself for not being closer with the people I care about before they aren't there so I can't sleep. Maybe I'm just a bleeding heart so I can't sleep.
I don't know.
It'll be good to see Bailey again under better circumstances. I'm very happy for KT and Phill, even if it does mean that I'm going to have to take time off of work. But maybe I can kill two birds with one stone when I'm in town. And the light is always on for me in the Heartbreak Hotel.
Buck.
Monday, January 11, 2010
Balmy Ia
The high today was right around 24. I was practically sweating in my bibs and thermals. If we get up to the high 30's that WHO is predicting I might have to throw on a pair of shorts. Gotta make some more girls cry at practice tonight. Last night I had seven out of eight crying. Not to bad, if I do say so myself. NOTE: I had dispensation from all of the parents to break their daughters. I don't do it for fun, even if I do enjoy it.
Jerky
So, I didn't use the AB method of "jerkifying" my jerky. I ended up using the "baking" method which entails slicing the meat and laying it on cooling racks on top of jelly-roll pans, or cookie sheets. I set the oven to 168, the lowest I could get it at convect back for eight hours. 10 hours later (turns out that with an electric oven the door has to be closed, or a prop set in the door to keep the latch closed for it to work)I have delicious jerky. I used a marinade of 2 Tbsp of liquid smoke, 1/3 of a cup of Worcestershire sauce, 1/4 cup of soy sauce, and 1 1/2 Tbsp of honey with about 12 turns of the pepper mill on coarse grind.
I let it marinade for a little over eight hours, just because I was running around and didn't get to it until after noon. Turns out that the eight hour mark is when every turns from perfect to a bit to salty. I figure in the future, if I do this with a flank steak from the butcher, I'll cut back on the soy sauce a bit just in case I have to put off getting the meat out of marinade.
Bit salty, but delicious. Thicker cuts of meat which I like for jerky. Could use some more pepper and some more smoke flavor. Paprika maybe?
The plan is once I have the meat on the racks I'll sprinkle both sides with a combo of smoked paprika and pepper. But it will be with beef flank steak, so a different flavor.
Friday, January 8, 2010
Volleyball
This next weekend my club is hosting the first of two tournaments this year. These tournaments are held at four different sites and eight different courts. I've been helping move equipment, food stuffs, tables, scorers tables, etc. to these different locals. All except one. The one location that my team is supposed to work at. This morning I had 16 emails asking for directions to this site. That's one email from every player and one of their parents. Now I can understand a mass inundation if I had said, "I'll get you the information in a timely manner." I have not said that. I didn't even know where we were going to be working until three days ago.
But, I calmly called and asked the director to help a poor-lost-navigationally-challenged-newcomer- find his way to the site. To which she said that all directions are posted on our club's website. I meekly said, "Well, don't I look like an idiot?" She laughed and then got very serious and a little scary, "It means a lot to me, to Curt, and the rest of the board that you help out so much." The only reply I could think of was one that Lutheran modesty has beaten into me, "I don't do anymore than anyone else would." She laughed and said I was full of crap. Hung up the phone and went on about my morning, running errands and what not. Gave me warm fuzzies though to know that some one appreciates effort.
I went out to the store today to get some groceries and refill some empty spots in my pantry. Great sale on juice, concentrate cans for 39 cents a pop. Very happy with that. Then I got to the milk and cried a little. But, I'm brining some venison that one of the hunters donated to the blauhaus. He dropped off a good 60 pounds of mixed meets, which made Sam and I very happy. Naturally I started scouring my new cookbook for all sorts of backwoods deliciousness. I'm bring 6 pounds of the chuck that has been cut into 1/4-2-4 inch segments, I have to wait another couple of hours to make sure the cure takes, rinse them off. Douse them in black pepper, then I have two options.
Option 1. Bake at low low low heat (~120 degrees) for 4-8 hours with oven door open.
Option 2. Get some furnace filters lay the meet on the furnace filters, lay the furnace filters on a box fan. Fan until jerky.
Option 1. iss something that makes a lot of sense to me. Kind of like the smoking that we do at the farm, just a much shorter time due to the difference in mass.
Option 2. is something that I really want to try. Alton Brown who is a food science guru advises that any type of heat application will actually cook the jerky leaving you with leather. Whereas the cold application with air movement leaves you with meat that still has tenderness.
Who knows.
Buck
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Sheep and snow
The sheep have been huddled up in the back lot of the 'hundred farm for the past two months. Since I wake up at unspeakable hours and with nothing to fill my time other than planning things that can't be planned, or waiting 20 minutes for the engine block of the truck to warm up; I take this time to walk down towards the farm and check on the animals, and make sure that all of them have water sources that aren't completely iced over. I've come to enjoy the way that the sheep are terrified of a human in their pen. I realize that that statement sounds a bit sadistic, but for my part the enjoyment comes from the psychology of it.
There is definitely an alpha ewe that all of the herd takes their cue from, including the ram. I'll hop over the fence in the horse lot and just wait. At first they all scatter back into the barn and wait. After ten or so minutes this ewe will pop her head out of the barn to see if I'm still there. She sees that I'm sitting in a snow bank just waiting for them to continue munching on the hay, or over by the water tank paling out some fresh water...either way I don't pose a threat to the flock. She'll come out and eye me up and down, saunter around the hay bale that is still frozen from the first cold snap, and stop three feet from me. At this point I give a call of "sheep", which the flock from the '5o farm understand and recognize, and come up to me expecting corn. I scratch some noses, hold out my hand that has some corn in it and watch the alpha ewe. She still hasn't warmed up to me, and I've been doing this routine since prior to Thanksgiving.
This morning though was different. We had another storm come through and the sheep were all in the barn to start the morning. I hopped the fence and landed on my rear in a snow drift, which wasn't very graceful. I got up cussing the snow, the cold, and the ice, and looked up to see the ram staring me in the eye balls. That was a bit unnerving let me tell you what. I "sh-ed" at him trying to back him up and he just blew steam through his nose. More unnerving. Finally after a couple of minutes I stamped my foot at him and scared him back a couple of feet, enough room to hop on the fence-line if I needed to. He snorted again and went over to the hay bale to munch on the frozen goodies.
I walked over to the barn to check on the rest of the flock and saw all the ewes and the weather in the stall. This is a bit unusual for this flock, and very much out of character. I took a quick head count and made sure they were all there, then walked into the stall. At that point all but one freaked out and made a bee-line for the door which I apparently was in the way of. If you ever get the chance to get run over by nine sheep...don't. They stink, they're heavier than they look, and their little hooves hurt. Also, they like to defecate when they're scared. Not fun. I went over to the one ewe - the alpha- that didn't get up to make sure that everything was ok. She was shaking and snorting with her eyes rolling this way and that. Now, I'm not trained in any vet practices, and while I knew that my boss, and the 'hundred supervisor were both awake, I didn't want to call them at pre-sunrise asking for advice. I figured, by the symptoms - not moving, shaking, wild eyes, dry nose - that something was wrong and I assumed that it was cold related. So I opened up the house, got some blankets - not the pretty ones, blankets that the Dom. Sup. has in the upstairs - and a warm bowl of water. Brought that out to the ewe, went to the crib and got some cracked corn for her to munch on.
I ended up waiting with her for 3 hours before the 'hundred Ag. Sup. came out to do chores in the morning. By that time she had stopped with the wild eyes, and was back up on her feet. But she still didn't want to go out of the barn to the rest of the flock. T came in and asked me what was going on, I summed up the situation as there was too much to explain - nor did I want to relate my embarrassing entrance. He told me I should have called him, as his wife was taking the day off since the girls didn't have school/daycare because of closings. While we were talking that ewe was following us through the sheep lot like a puppy dog. She was never more than two feet from my right leg while T and I were talking.
Moral of the story is: when it is negative degrees, don't go outside if you don't have too. Also, body heat saves lives.
Buck
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Why we do
The True Gentleman is the man whose conduct proceeds
from good will and an acute sense of propriety
and whose self-control is equal to all emergencies;
who does not make the poor man conscious of his poverty,
the obscure man of his obscurity,
or any man of his inferiority or deformity;
who is himself humbled if necessity compels him to humble another;
who does not flatter wealth,
cringe before power,
or boast of his own possessions or achievements;
who speaks with frankness but always with sincerity and sympathy;
whose deed follows his word;
who thinks of the rights and feelings of others rather than his own;
and who appears well in any company;
a man with whom honor is sacred and virtue safe.
from good will and an acute sense of propriety
and whose self-control is equal to all emergencies;
who does not make the poor man conscious of his poverty,
the obscure man of his obscurity,
or any man of his inferiority or deformity;
who is himself humbled if necessity compels him to humble another;
who does not flatter wealth,
cringe before power,
or boast of his own possessions or achievements;
who speaks with frankness but always with sincerity and sympathy;
whose deed follows his word;
who thinks of the rights and feelings of others rather than his own;
and who appears well in any company;
a man with whom honor is sacred and virtue safe.
John Wayland
Saturday, January 2, 2010
2010
I meant to post this earlier...well, prior to New Year's but things turned out that I'm a touch late. Story of my communication life I suppose. I don't get behind those Resolution things because they're evil and no one sets realistic goals for them. When you do you get ridiculed for not having high enough standards. So, in rebellion I'm going to take a different approach to the Resolution thing.
My 2010 hopes and wishes.
1. That my family makes it to 2011 safe and sound.
2. I find a job that I not only enjoy, but I can survive off of.
3. I stop being so critical of not only myself, but others. (That's a big one)
4. I want to save enough to pay off old debts.
5. I want to put enough away to continue with my backpacking purchases.
6. I want to take more me time when I can.
7. I hope that all my friends and I can get together more often.
8. I hope that I don't get in trouble with the law.
9. I wish that I didn't feel so bad about planning on leaving the farms.
10. I hope that Death takes a pass on me and those I'm close to. (Take a vacation dude)
11. I hope that I quit the vices in my life.
12. I hope that I become a better communicator.
13. I hope that my faith and reliance in the Lord helps me through the dark times that I know will happen.
14. I hope I make the right decision when I don't know what to do.
15. I hope that I get to see the old man umpire a ball game that isn't in IL or IN.
16. I wish I didn't have to travel as much as I'm going to have to this year.
17. I hope that influence my team in a positive manner when we're under pressure.
18. I wish I had a mule.
19. I hope that my friends out here understand when the time comes.
20. I hope that all of the animals stay alive.
21. I hope that Sarah Palin doesn't win the GOP front runner.
22. I hope that the Blue Haus doesn't fall down while I'm in it.
23. I hope that I'm making the right decision cause guidance has not been plentiful.
24. I hope that I can dedicate more time to Church.
25. I hope that I make it to March 20.
I suppose that I could keep going, but I think 25 is enough for now. I've got big hopes for 2010.
Don't let me down.
Buck
My 2010 hopes and wishes.
1. That my family makes it to 2011 safe and sound.
2. I find a job that I not only enjoy, but I can survive off of.
3. I stop being so critical of not only myself, but others. (That's a big one)
4. I want to save enough to pay off old debts.
5. I want to put enough away to continue with my backpacking purchases.
6. I want to take more me time when I can.
7. I hope that all my friends and I can get together more often.
8. I hope that I don't get in trouble with the law.
9. I wish that I didn't feel so bad about planning on leaving the farms.
10. I hope that Death takes a pass on me and those I'm close to. (Take a vacation dude)
11. I hope that I quit the vices in my life.
12. I hope that I become a better communicator.
13. I hope that my faith and reliance in the Lord helps me through the dark times that I know will happen.
14. I hope I make the right decision when I don't know what to do.
15. I hope that I get to see the old man umpire a ball game that isn't in IL or IN.
16. I wish I didn't have to travel as much as I'm going to have to this year.
17. I hope that influence my team in a positive manner when we're under pressure.
18. I wish I had a mule.
19. I hope that my friends out here understand when the time comes.
20. I hope that all of the animals stay alive.
21. I hope that Sarah Palin doesn't win the GOP front runner.
22. I hope that the Blue Haus doesn't fall down while I'm in it.
23. I hope that I'm making the right decision cause guidance has not been plentiful.
24. I hope that I can dedicate more time to Church.
25. I hope that I make it to March 20.
I suppose that I could keep going, but I think 25 is enough for now. I've got big hopes for 2010.
Don't let me down.
Buck
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