Christmas Message to My Kids: Keeping it Simple

    John  3:16 "For God So loved the world,  He gave His only begotten Son."

     Some times in my life I havent' been able to give much.  And some times I go overboard.  Balance?  Me?  It used to be a struggle for me at Christmas time.  How much should i give this one or that one.  What does this person or that person need?  Sometimes my Christmas giving has been stymied by feelings of guilt or by feelings of trying to prove I was better than I was or competing with another parent or grandparent wanting you all to think that I was something other than I really am.    

     Sometimes I wish I could wrap things up and make things look like they belong on the floor room showcase at Macy's in the mall.   I wanted things to be perfect and even paid for people to help me out in that department sometimes.   I did these things because I wanted your growing up to at least have Christmas be O.K. and somewhat "normal".  The devil, tries to tell us that you need this or that in your life to be alright.  The deceiver, wants us to think that in order to be a respectable human you better chase it, pursue it, because if you don't you can't be loved.  I one time had a thought that I should cancel the big day all together because couldn't possibly live up to the grandiose idea of what my intentions were for you guys.  Sometimes I just got drunk. 

   In the book of Matthew 7:12  Jesus charges his disciples to go to every town and not bring any stuff with them to spread the message of love.  He asks them to bring themselves, that they are all the equipment they need.    God has a plan and a design for each and everyone of us.   He gave us Jesus to rescue us from our sins and give us everlasting life, and  we can catch a glimpse of it day by day.  He loves us that much.  

      The enemy wants us to look at our family dynamics and tell us, things are screwed up,  we aren't as good as other Christians.  Maybe we have heard others in meanness utter those words to our ears.  Maybe because of our own selfish sinful ways we expect too much from each other and live in a spirit of envy and want, and jealousy.  After all we all want something we see on t.v. or the internet or maybe even on someones feet.    No one is perfect.   My life has been a living testimony of that.   

      Here is the good news.  Things are different for me today and still not perfect.  I was wrapping a few gifts tonight to get ready for our big day.  I was thinking about my Christmases past and present, even ones when I was a kid, and memories of you guys.   I was flooded with a feeling of peace and happiness and joy. God put His great Christmas gift to us all in one package.  In a week or so we will all get together to celebrate our Christmas.  God's message is simple. He chose.  He chose us.  He loves.  He loves us. He gives.  He gives to us. Unconditionally!   He chose to give His Love to us.  He wants us to try love. Just as he chose to give through His love for us; He want us to choose to give love.   Jesus came from a blended family too, and it was perfect and good because it had Love.  I can't wait to have all of you at Penguin Lodge together as a family.  Our family dynamic has changed for each of us and all in different ways. It may not be perfect to the eyes of the world, but it is ours, and I wouldn't trade it for any other. There is single  simple package for everyone waiting for you when you come.  So come and come often.  You are all the equipment we need.

  

     

Domesticati

     To put off your old self, which belongs to your former manner of life and is corrupt through deceitful desires, and to be renewed in the spirit of your minds. (Ephesians 4:22-23)




      When I studied Shakespeare I specifically remember Professor O'Kelly form the University of North Dakota telling me that the words , "king", "kin", and "kind" were like warning signs that something dreadful was about to happen in one of his plays.   I am nowhere in the league of Shakespeare, but my ego would like to give it a try at warning the reader about, my warning words.   So if you come across my words, or in conversation with me hear , "I had this thought," you can be assured that something is about to happen.
     I had the good fortune one time to spend a couple years trapping fur in northern MN.   It was a good time in my life.  Although physically demanding and forcing me to be mentally tough,  I gained a lot of satisfaction pursuing the man vs. nature thing.   I would spend my days out in sloughs working muskrat huts, and nights up until midnight putting up fur pelts.  I had managed to put a little heat in a shed out back. and the fur began to pile up.  And as Winter progressed it became harder keeping the little shed warm.
     One day I had this thought that if I moved my pelting operation into my kitchen I could save a few cold nights in the skinning shed.   So I did.   It worked out pretty good for awhile.   Then I had this other thought that if I took a few muskrats that were frozen solid and placed them in my shower to thaw out, that maybe I could get a few more done during my skinning session.  So I did.  And that too seemed to work.
    Then one day after taking regular showers in the springtime the drain became clogged, and upon further investigation by someone who tried to unclog it found all sorts of muskrat hair as the culprit to the dilemma of clogged plumbing.   Not a happy day.  And today I am grateful those wild adventures are behind me.
    Lately,  I have spending time in Williston.,  and planning a short honeymoon with my beautiful new bride.  I don't know a whole lot of people.  And the adventurer in me has found a little satisfaction in getting to know a few people.  So yesterday I wandered over to the pawn shop across the street.   Nice guys.   A pail of ice-fishing rods caught my eye and at a bargain price they sold them to me.   Baby will need some ice poles when we take our little adventure to Lake Kabetogema.   So I bought them.   Then I had this thought.  I thought that Lake Sacajawea must have some walleyes in it, and that maybe one day i should want to fish there.  So I drove down to Scenic Sports, the local sports and bait shop.   I picked out some pretty lures,  some new line,  inquired about the rules, asked where to go fishing, you know, all the stuff  guys needs to have and know about fishing in a strange new and wonderful land.
     A hundred bucks later I had this thought,  that If I told my plight to the beautiful Brenda, she would see and understand my strange and wonderful dilemma, that in winter in the northern  tier of the U.S., a guy should probably have a fish shanty, and that the cost of buying one may not be in the budget, but the cost of building may be.   She agreed.
      So this morning,  after doing what I needed to do, I picked up the material to build a humble little ice-fishing shanty.  No big deal.
     Then I had this thought, that maybe I could get building on it today while Brenda was at school.   Then reality hit me and said, "Dude! It's -15!  It's cold outside.  It's too cold to build it in the garage today."  And Reality was right.
     Then I had this thought, that if I cut out all the pieces in the garage and brought them into the house to assemble this fine inspiration, and completed it,  I would have the shanty dilemma solved.   So I pursued the thought into the kitchen.  I noticed that Brenda's floors were real nice and shiny and clean and made out of wood.  They might get scratched.   So I pursued the thought into the living room.  The floors were the same there.  So I pursued the thought down into the basement on the carpet where nothing would get scratched and then realized that it would be hard to get the assembled product up the stairs.   But that didn't stop me.
I bargained, justified, plead with myself,  "Just how Bunky are you going to get this done?"
     Then I had this thought of Brenda coming home to an unfinished or finished ice house inside her house.   I came to realize that it would probably resemble something  to the precise extent of "The Bonny Incident" from the movie Pulp Fiction,.    And that maybe after only 5 days of marital bliss it would abruptly come to an end. And that also I really enjoy peace and tolerance way more than i can bare chaos and turmoil.   And also it being minus 25 over the next couple days i would just be lying to myself and the reader to pretend that I would actually go out fishing out in this weather.
     So as of right now, the material can just sit in the back of my truck for a warmer day.   And I can giggle at the committee in my head that forms these strange wonderful ideas.  Look forward to an evening cuddling up to my beautiful wife and just listening about her days adventures.   And know in my heart that if I can take the next beautiful thought that comes into my mind captive, I might get to do it again tomorrow.

Oilfield Trash? HMMMMM

    James 1:10  But the one who is rich should take pride in his low position because he will pass away like a wild flower.

 I watched her walk down the aisle, escorted kindly by her son, Bob, and Duane, her dad.   Instead of carrying cookies or a pan of hot dish she was carrying a bouquet of pink roses and daisies.  Instead of wearing slacks and a sweater, she wore a knock out white dress, and white stilettos on her feet which no way came close to elevating her stature to the size of her character.  Brenda and I got together in front of God and our families in Fairview, Montana on Saturday and got married.
     The night before I was visiting with 3 of my sons.   They were proud to be in Williston.  They were awed by the traffic and sights.   In many ways it wasn't so much different than the home they are used to, but they sort of came to an understanding of what is happening out here, with the fracking of oil shale, the jobs and the economy it is creating.  My son Dakota proudly and humorously displayed a hoody and sweatpants touting "North Dakota....  Bakken.... Oilfield Trash."
      It was right after many laughs, we went down to the pool for a quick splash.   When I opened the door to the pool, I was instantly greeted buy the sound of Mariachi music, the smell of cumin infused food, and the unmistakable laugh of an old friend.   "Buenos Noches mi amigo," exclaimed the unique familiar voice of no other than Jose Jimenez.  We exchanged a few handshaking formalities.  I offered him pizza and he gave me one of his delicious burritos.   I never did quite understand how or why he was at the hotel, the same as mine.  It was just good to say hi.   Go figure!
    Today, i dropped Brenda off at the school where he works, and I will soon go to pick her up.   I worked on the laundry, some business, and finally got a chance to blog a few thoughts.
     Today I was thinking about the first time I had left for Williston this fall.  I specifically remember the wild daisies by my mail box.  How quiet it was when I left... and when i returned both to Penguin Lodge this Fall and to Penguin Terrace this Winter in my new home.   A lot is happening.  Domestication... Life.  A lot is happening here too out in the patch and on the line...  families are still getting together for celebrations, still going to work,  still worrying about grandmas,  still coming together before God and following Him.
      The daisies in the bouquet may wither, and the ones by the mailbox may be dormant,  but the last I heard Jesus is not on the cross anymore because He is alive and with us.     To others we may be oilfield trash, but to people like me we are all just a bunch of God's children  trying to be in the Bakken.

The Reunion

         

2 Corinthians 5:17 ESV /         

Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.

    
    
     I got home after a few projects.  
No parties, no big celebrations, just coming home after a season in the Bakken.    I can't describe the feeling I had driving home.   I wasn't coming home to a messy house at least in the cluttery sense or my family relationships.  The kids had been calling and saying, "Dad!  We are coming over."  
So I get to spend quality time with the kids. YAY!!!    I get to see my Bill W. and Dr. Bob friends, and they are ok.    I get to reconnect with my friends at First Lutheran.    Then, I have been making plans with my hunting buddies brad, Ryan and Ralph and a few others, like my brother...  He wants me not to stir the pot with them, especially Bradley who has it coming for getting his name in the paper for doing stupid stuff this summer.
     It's nice getting reacquainted with my home at Penguin Ranch.   I don't like reorganizing my closets, its not easy for me to do.  Its an ADD thing.  I can be putting pants on my shelf and with three pair on the bed, I suddenly realize that I am outside by the well house wiring in the electricity to the well house heater, so I go back in the house and do dishes.  later that day I go upstairs to clean the bathroom, and when I see my pants on the bed,  I say to myself, "Oh yeah,  I need to ...go wash my socks."  Somehow, sometime before bed time, I see that my pants willed themselves to the closet when I was making meals for the kids and doing kitchen duties...  I'm telling you!
     New projects: not at the moment.  But the teen rocket scientists of my residence are building an ice fishing shack out of my camper...  doing a great job too by the way.  My initial doubts have been shattered.  
      Now here is the kicker.  Going back to the Bakken on Thursday.   The puzzled reader would ask, "Why with all this good stuff would he take off and go right away?"   The answer is quite simple.  I leave early Thursday morning on the Empire Builder from Grand Forks to Williston.   There I will reunite with my Williston group of friends and spend a delightful evening with the beautiful Brenda.  Friday afternoon we depart from Williston in her cute little Pontiac to spend an awesome weekend bonding through Christ planning on and deer camp at Penguin Lodge.... planning an awesome life together.   I love her. 

  In one year everything has changed, it hasn't been always easy or fun, or full of laughter, but through the salvation of Jesus Christ it has been worthwhile,  and that has what has made the difference

Camp Life

Romans 12:10 Love one another with brotherly affection. Out do one another in showing honor

      It has been an interesting summer.    Been on two jobs with three companies.  Many of the guys are like me ,  out here on a pipeline, some new faces and some old.  
     I was making dinner last week.  I was enjoying a little bit of peace and quiet.    Then someone came into my hovel.  I was getting a new roommate.    Something seemed familiar with the way he came in and I recognized the voice, but something had changed.  The clean cut Hispanic man was now sporting longer hair wrapped neatly in a pony tail.  I immediately recognized the big smile behind a full beard and moustache.  "Oof Da Tomas," exclaimed the friendly voice.  "You not been eating vegi burritos, have you."  The only voice it could have been poking fun at my tummy was none other than Jose Jimenez.
     We exchanged stories of our families, caught up on our latest adventures in the Bakken oil patch, and sat down and shared a meal.  It was just like working together last winter.  I fixed a little something and he made a little something.
     Lately my weekends consist of getting details worked out with  the impending marriage to the beautiful Brenda.  Jose goes on adventures with his Latino friends.  Its all good. When I return back to the man camp on Sunday nights, Brenda has my cooler loaded full of goodies for the week.  I have found that Rice Crispy bars, chocolate chip cookies, and apple crisp are good barter for a plate of spaghetti, or an occasional burrito.
     Brenda has been introducing me to people in her community and my new friend Eric gave me a shirt from the Williston High School band.   I am scheming on something to show him  that he is a friend.  I like the guy, a rarity out here, a fellow democrat... I hope.  Of course there are others on my backfilling crew.   
     I ran into a fellow that I worked with on my first pipeline job... a sober guy who seen me go back out after 13 years.  It's amazing how things work out.  He's seen me sober again and had almost lost hope figuring I would never come back to sanity.    
    Today I am grateful that I was sane when I met my friend Jose and others that I have met during the last year... they are much easier reunions than those I bump into out here on the line than those that have seen my sick and crazy.   For them, I had nothing real and  to give. And that is what  they remember , and makes it hard for them to accept boundaries.  Boundaries are important in a mancamp in the Bakken.
  
    

Open Doors

"For I know the plans I have for your," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."  Jeremiah 29:11 NIV

    Got laid off after a 5 short weeks of work.  Its a long story.  Layoffs seem to put a damper on my plans of prosperity and security, and I must guard my door to let negative thoughts come in.  Sometimes it feels like so many doors are being shut.  Experience shows me that it is quite the contrary.
      I have been thinking about doors lately;  both in a symbolic reference to my life,  and also in a literal sense having installed a couple in my home. There are many doors in my house, but only three of them enter into my home. 
     The first one is screwed shut.  It leads into my basement.  I absolutely hated it as a kid.  It was the one that we carried wood into the house. Its function was simply for work.  And when we opened it.  It meant sweat.  It meant not fun.  It also meant future warmth in the home and a clean aroma of fresh air in the house in the winter months along with aroma of sap  and popple bark.
     The next one leads into my kitchen area from the outside.  I had a pretty nice one there.  But the door jamb was broken.  The latch would lock by itself, and I never had a key.  So people living in my home on occasion would either hope the basement wasn't screwed shut, or a window latch left undone so they could crawl in or stumble down some rickety old stairs into a dark place; and  eventually, through some exerted effort find a way to get in.  I got a new door and frame hung it and finished it off with a modern lock and a handle made of deer antler. 
    The last door goes out onto the new deck. When dad moved in this old rickety house in 1980,  it came complete with an overhanging porch on the west end of the house.  It had an old door. But the only thing missing was the rest of the porch: no floor, no railings..  If a person would open the door and walk out, he would fall about three feet down into a sterile clump of dirt that because of the great overhang never got wet. So nothing ever grew.  But the cats seemed to scratch in it and leave plenty of cat scent.  An occasional dog over the years would dig a hole.  A few weeds would grow on the edge where water dripped off the roof.  When I moved in, I took out the door and covered it with plywood and finished off the inside saying to myself, "Maybe one day if only..."  It seemed like a hopeless pipe dream.  Then one day happened. 
     It started when the weather broke.  I was laid off and had a little time,  so I built a deck under the great over hang. I wanted the house looking better for the new love in my life.  But I finally had the means and that porch had been bugging me since I was a kid.  I wanted this place looking better. I wanted my kids and all who know me that Bunky is back.  I wanted my house to reflect the person I really am.   Its a great pleasure to see the look of approval on Brenda's face when she comes to visit from out west and see things  improving.  After all, this place will soon be hers also.
    Finally after the deck was done, I get laid off again get a little time off and I woke up one day with the determination to get a door in so people can walk right out onto the deck, the deck with an old overhang that had been sitting empty with nothing underneath it for 33 years.
     Here is the thing,  for the last 5 years a small project like this would have been unfathomable.  Overcome with fear, guilt, economic insecurity, resentments, and paralyzed by the depression of alcoholism, the old house with the messed up doors would have remained screwed shut.  The beauty and freedom of a simple home would have remained hidden and just remained barely functional as a sleeping- eating place possibly for another 33 years.  I didn't build it.  I didn't hang the doors.  God did.
    Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.  For everyone who asks receives; he who seeks finds; and to him who knocks, the door will be opened.  Matthew 7:7-8 NIV.  It was only the pain of dealing with a great change of life that brought me to my knees.  It was that pain that lead me to recommit my life to Christ, to examine my life as it was and is,  to live in a solution that gives me the power to solve all my problems.   My heart was hard and cold.  So hard and brittle that it was shattered.  And with a hole in my heart, God's love shined through.  John 3:16  For God so loved the world he gave his only one and only Son.   Now Jesus is the doorway. 
     When it seems like doors are being shut in one's life, God opens so many more. 
"In the New Testament, Jesus tells us to knock at the door, but also warns that the door will someday close and shut out the unprepared.  James warns us that the Judge is at the door.  We do not have forever to decide.  And finally, in Revelations, it is He who knocks at our doors, and waits for us to let Him in.    And the final reference in Revelations is of a "door standing open to heaven"  -- Hope is fulfilled." (Willa: Quotidian Reader).  
    People are much like a house.  We also have our own personal doors to let in and out both good and bad.  We can put up storm doors, or leave them unlocked. We can leave them wide open or put on good locks.  We can put decorations on them, or we can smear  lamb's blood on our door post.  We choose which doors we want to open.  Door A: same old blah blah blah!- restless, irritable, and discontent.  Door B: God's world of love and endless possibilities.
       A big door is opening in my life once again preparing a home and planning a life with Brenda.  She enhances my walk toward Christ and encourages my walk toward the narrow gate.  She consistently reminds me of the bigger picture of life, the unseen one that God has planned for each and everyone of us when we choose to walk that narrow path.  That path isn't always fun,  never is easy, but is always worthwhile.  Thank God for doors... may they continue to open and close. As for me and my house and all who enter in it, we will serve the Lord.
  

Unsensible

     Sometimes when Jupiter is in-line with Mars, and when the moon is in the third phase crazy events shape and mold our lives in obscure ways.   I often wonder what puppet master is controlling the Universe to his egotistical delight.  Superstitious as that line of thought is, it is also insensible.  A person of the scientific natue may agree with that statement, but I am not scientific, for science hasn't cured anything with my crazy life, or made anything alright.  So only spiritual reasonings can justify the things that make sense in mhy life today.  For me life changing events are in overdrive, but in my life lately they seem to be on cruise control.

     I made it back out on the line last week.   What a change it has been from the world of my home.  No more sleeping in.  Putting gas in the tank more often.   Dealing with co-workers.  I even get to see my fiancé more often.  Also, I don't get to see the kids as much, and that is a big change, even though we talk as much as they want to, and often.

     Nevertheless, the biggest change that I see is the one of recognition of myself as one of God's children.  I had a hard time describing or putting into words what I was feeling with all this change.  It wasn't a bad thing.   I just felt a need to acknowledge it, to pin it down, to name it, perhaps to own it, or at least apprehend it so that I could comprehend it.
     Then today it happened, or actually it began yesterday.   I was at the Roosevelt Park zoo in Minot with Brenda on Thursday.  what a great place to go and just hang out, and talk about things.   Yes, we have even more to talk about lately.  Yep, that's right... getting hitched. 
     Anyway, two exhibits really caught my attention.   The giraffes and zebras and huge cats were way so cool, but it was the North American animals that  captivated my interests.    First stop was the wolves.   It was neat to see how shy they were, yet in the the presence of full awareness.  they constantly paced the boundaries of their fence, and when seemingly frustrated, they crawled into their den. It wasn't like watching wolves in the wild, and I have been blessed to see them play in the wild and watch them play, and wished I had that wild freedom.
     The second stop that grabbed me were the bears.  Grizzly Bears.  They seemed so much like beggars, and selfish fighting for theirs space.     Just longing to be on the outside.   To me,  they were wild animals and shouldn't be in a cage, yet they were provided for, in good health,  and , yet just not happy.    It  seems that people have the tendency to project their emotions onto animals, and we want to think they were not happy, when as far as a wolf or bear goes, they had all the could need.
     Today out on the line, we were working through some rancher's cow pasture.   Low and behold, fences seemed to keep getting in our way.   We have to open them to get out machines through, and close them right away behind us to make sure the farmer's cow's don't get out through the hole we make.  You would think it wouldn't make a difference when half the calves are running outside the fence anyway it seems.  Some of the critters  spend half their day trying to get back in like this one calf who paced back and forth for three hours trying to get his way back into the fence to be with the others.  
    It is all part of the job and we do it anyway.   Then it dawned on me.  Psalm 23 says, "He leads me to green pastures."   Before  I was like a wild animal,  resenting boundaries and seeing myself as a caged wolf or bear.  One who did not belong with others of domesticated variety.  Now  that I define myself as a child of God, I see myself as more like that stray calf, having tested the realm of the world outside the fence.  I long to get back in with others like me, a member of the human-race, the Beloved.  And it is within these boundaries that one finds true freedom and happiness.  As a wild animal the thought of it all would seem unsensible.
     Today  I got up early, went to work,  paid my bills, drove the speed limit for the most part, helped others around me,  I gave thanks for what I had,  I told the people that mean the most to me that I loved them.     I kept myself clean,  and I am grateful that I  see 44 when I never believed that I would live to see 30.  Thank you God for making me your child, and for the pain and scars of the barbed wire when I slipped back underneath the fence.
    

       

The Call

     I got a call from Jose Jimenez on Saturday.  "Hola, Tomas.  I goin' back to workm but its not a good deal."  He explained how we wouldn't be staying in a mancamp this season, but a hotel...
     Not a good deal?  I guess I could think of so many people that have not had a good deal.  I myself have been down that road of not thinking I was having a good deal at the moment: fend for my own meals, more miles to drive.  About that time I begin to think exactly how spoiled rotten I am and have been over the last few months and truly blessed.  I think of all the people who have lived out West and not had such a good deal.
     On Saturday I visitied Fort Buford and Fort Union near Williston, North Dakota.  I attended these sites of historic profoundness in awe and wonder with my beautiful companion Brenda.  She being more familiar with the area acted as my guide.  At Ft. Union an old fashioned Rendezvouz was happening.  Furs, old tools and dress, harsh living quarters, with a hint of Bourgoise presence and human refinedness made me reflect on this idea of human dignity in in the harshest primitive conditions in a time period when nothing was certain.  I particulary let my ear wander to the sound of a a drum and a Lakota story-teller.  The man spoke and sang in a small crowded room in the corner of the fort opposite the Bourgoise house.  How fitting and contrasting the two ideas of richness.  Yet I felt at ease in either setting.
     After some time at Ft. Union, we moved down the road to Ft. Buford.     More military than fur-trade historics, it hit me and I felt the presence of something much greater than the happenings of the Bakken.  I imagined what it would have been like to be doing about my business one day when over the hill came a band of 168 Lakota people, warriors and families, hen hearing an order to disarm them and take their horses. 
     I imagined Sitting Bull the leader of these people handing his 5 year old son his rifle and explaining to the commander and the press that the buffalo were gone, the nomadic way of life was gone and it was the responsibility of people like the commander to teach this boy something, to educate him because as far as sitting Bull was concerned, he only knew one way to educate a child and from that day forward, it would be pointless to try and teach him the ways of survival in the new way.   He only knew his way.  On Saturday, June 15, 2013  I walked where Sitting Bull walked,  and I sat in the room where he surrendered his rifle.   I looked out the same window where Crows Foot gave the commander his father's rifle.
     The Bakken, invaders, manifest destiny, imminent domain, mineral rights, land owner rights,  expansion,  progress, technology.... Change!
     I wonder in great awesome thought, what has really changed over the last 130 years.  Men all the time wonder what it is that they should educate their children in.  It beguiles me to think of what an education is today and what it should be, what kind of society we are building for our children?   Should it be the path of secular humanism, college, new age scientific dynamics? What path should I point them down. God knows how often I have stood where where the two roads diverge.  Then as I reflect on the changes in my life it hits me so simple so precise.  What if we just teach our children  to walk, to walk where Jesus walks.
     "I'll see you out there on the line my friend Jose, if not this one maybe the next one."

Of Beavers and Wolves

     In 1996, -97, and -98  I was living an outdoors-man's dream.  A typical day I would wake up at the crack of dawn, and journey out to tend my muskrat and beaver sets.  I would come home at dark and spend hours in a fur skinning shed.   Once a week or sometimes more depending on my catch I would visit the fur man and get a nice check.   I loved the smell of the swamp, the trees, the exhaust from a warm vehicle.  I was subsidized by an unemployment check.  My bills were paid, and I felt I had a purpose in life- to catch and kill and skin and stretch as much fur as a human could.  By most trappers accounts, I was considered good.  I took over 3500 muskrats and nearly a 600 beaver in those years. Foxes, coyotes, badgers, fishers, bobcats, and I even had a wolf in a trap one time, but got it loosed.  I struggled over the idea of trying to smuggle the hide into Canada.  But I turned him loose.
      I remember picking up one of my children just born from the hospital in a pickup loaded with beavers in the round and some put up and hauling them and my family to the fur man Ordean Sunrud in Fosston, MN.  My boys tasted a freshly cooked beaver there, and it was good.
     Life moved on for me, I had a couple of career changes, markets dropped and I sold my traps and some supplies to another guy who wanted to make a go at it.  I was raising turkeys.  One night something got into my turkey shed and killed about 600 birds outright, while the rest piled up in the four corners of the shed.  Tracks left in the mud led certain evidence plus the fact in my alfalfa field I had seen a pair of wolves earlier that summer.  I was angry, financially devastated.  I became consumed with the spirit of vengeance and within a couple days I had settled the score. I encouraged others to do the same , and got on the anti wolf bandwagon.
     A couple years later after moving on from ranching and settling in to another chapter of my life, I was driving around one day.  In a distant meadow I saw two wolves playing around a bale.  My instinct was to grab the gun, but instead I grabbed the binoculars... it changed my heart and my life.
     I saw that the pair were actually hunting mice.  In the grass I could see smaller wolves, pups.  The pair was teaching them how to hunt and feed.  The pups would play and wrestle around. It reminded me of my boys.  When the wrestling got a little rough, the mom would intervene and they would snap back and pay attention again.  They were just doing what wolves do.  They were being a family not much different than mine.
     They were just being the way God created them.  They play and sleep together, hunt together, they encourage each other to grow and become stronger.  They keep each other in line so that their family can function together as a unit.
     Same with the beaver, building a home together, gathering food.   So it is then I realized that as we are brother and sisters in Christ, so too are we brothers and sisters to the furry four legs in Creation.     I will not take any of my fur legged brothers or sisters nor teach the ways of it no more...forever.  This does not mean that I will not hunt or trap again. It means doing only these things for me to provide a meal, or clothe myself.  After all, who can turn down a plate of well prepared venison.
     Who am I to judge one of God's families.  It was on that day, and although possibly distorted at the time, I began my journey back on the Red Road.  A road that has led me back to God's family,  their have been struggles and victories.  We are more alike than different.
     Of wolves and beavers,  I hold nothing against the man who takes the fur as a part of his journey of existence on his life.  I hold nothing against the farmer protecting his crops and livestock.  But I hold in the least regard for men who were takers as I once was "sportsmen" satisfying an ego, .  Using greed as their creed and giving nothing back.  I hold even less regard for a government or bureau profiting from the control of these creatures.        
     Worse are those who wantonly waste the creatures of Creation in the name of satisfying a void in their heart with  the excitement of hearing the crack of a firearm and the satisfaction of an aimed shot.  It matters not what others do though.  And if because of my beliefs the retelling of these exploits brings joy to their hearts to see mine sad;  then... Amen.    I know that it is what they have to do as part of their journey to find their own center.   I will pray to live in the spirit of forgiveness so that I may forgive.
Mitakuye Oyasin
           

The Human Story

My favorite stories are aliens from outer space.

Extraterrestrials have their place,
And I have met a few.
But you don't have to leave this planet
To tell a good story.

I would say
You
Are fearless.

Imagination...
The most powerful force ever
Made available
To human

Kind.

Planting Time

     God grants me the serenity to accept the things that I cannot change, gives me the courage to change the things I can and gives me wisdom to know the difference.  I struggle with three simple words.  What. When. Where.
     I am glad that i do not depend on farming for a living anymore.  Instead I put in a little seed for the wildlife.  A couple years ago, my cousins Bradley and Ryan  and I just up and figured it was time that we get with the times and start putting in food plots.  Ryan has a little land up north of town in a swamp.  I remember planting trees with his dad Eddie up on that farm.   I don't know how it all happened, but we worked up a little one year and scattered a little soybeans by hand.  While they were growing we got this bright idea to work up a little more for the following year, so we resurrected a few old implements, gave Eddie's WD45 Allis Chalmers a little TLC and went to work.  The next year came and we got a hold of an old corn planter, we worked up a little more.  Now we have about 15 acres to plant, and our conversations each spring are debates and debacles about what to plant, where to plant it, and when.  As of today before this last rain shower we have about 3 acres of corn and 4-5 acres of soybeans.
     So the debate and questions sometimes seem rhetorical for the sake of hearing the answers and opinions of the what, where, when to plant.  Many frustrations and feelings occur arise out of those questions. Sometimes tiffs or arguements. The Bonds of men through hunting and family ties must be considered.  Ryan and his sister own the land and a tractor.  Bunky has the planter.    Bradley has a sprayer.    We all come up with some seed. it seems.   Little chess games need to be played until someone finally goes out and  just starts putting seed in the ground.   It's not anything close to precision farming and by today's standards of auto steer and satellite technology, we are lucky to stay straight for fifty feet in a row (depending on who is driving). The actual money farmers don't get a vote on whether the crop is good or bad.  Only the benefits of wildlife and  hunter's that share the benefits of being in our gang share the satisfaction of coming to hunting ground that has been enhanced for the enjoyment of living an outdoor lifestyle that has been handed down to its benefactors for 5 generations.
     I didn't get to plant last year.  Didn't get to watch the plot grow.  To top it off, I didn't get to hunt.  " How unfair," I thought.  But little did I know that this was the least of my problems.  They did get worse.  Life as it would have it moved from the recreational wa waaas of bickering kids in a sandbox to things that people in a free God loving society shouldn't have to go through.  Many stories of women from the Bible come to mind Eve Deborah Delilah Jezebel.  The reader should get the picture and I choose not to tell thier stories.  My story is of the aftermath and I am a guy.  It reminded me of the Story of Jacob with his dysfunctional family problems;  more so, his son Joseph.  Such is life when times when life doesn't treat a person fair.  Gen 37:23-24, "So when Joseph arrived, his brothers ripped off the beautiful robe he was wearing.  Then they grabbed him and through him into the cistern..."  It got worse for Joseph.  He was thrown in prison, made a slave, but he made his best to serve the Lord.  And in the end things turned out for all around him.
     Oh those brothers of Joseph.  Oh those kids, wives, cousins, friends....  If they....
     Joseph was granted courage to change the things he could.  Serenity?    How could he have that all the time.  We need serenity to accept the things we can not change.  First I cannot change other people's attitudes or their actions.  I have to accept the consequences of my own actions and take responsibility for my past failures.  1 Sam 15: 11 ," 'I am sorry that I ever made Saul king, for he has not been loyal to me and has refused to obey my command.'  Samuel was so deeply moved when he heard this that he cried out to the Lord all night."  I can only look at the decisions that I have made, look at the seed I have sown and say yes.  That was me. I did these things.  This is my part. These are rows that I planted and the seed I used for the ground I put them in.  Try to make them right.
     Wisdom!  What is the difference in knowing between the things I cannot change and having courage to change the things in which I can?  Well for me the answer is  prayer and scripture.  I must pray for God's will to be shown to me and to make me willing to live in the spirit of obedience.  My father a fellow hunter isn't here to hold my hand any more and my children are old enough  that their grip in times of need seem less firm.  Others express their opinions on my future decisions. But ultimately they don't get a vote.   Just as when those questions arise of what where and when to plant in a simple little food plot for wildlife; it is not much different in the question of human life.  The question ,"If" is in the middle of the word L"if"E. It always seems that I find the answers in the Words from the Bible.   Living obedient to those words where I hadn't before is the only wisdom I have found to make a difference.  Praying for God to show me His will and to give me the right seed to plant in others.  I must live in a spirit of gratitude for the lessons and tests in life.  Be where I can live and act in a spirit of obedience and guard it all the time.
      For those who Believe,  Jesus also struggled, but accepted, In Luke 22:42-53  Jesus is met by his betrayer, neither panics nor is frantic ...simply offers a simple question," Judas, did you come to betray me with a kiss?"  Then he healed again a slave who has his ear cut off.  Jesus first asked ," if you are willing, remove this cup from me." Likewise serenity is not simply detachment – distancing ourselves from our dreams and desires. Rather, what we see in Jesus is a continuance of his mission…with hope! It is a trust that God is good and out to do good to us always.
     As Paul wrote, “God works for the good in everything with those who love him and are called according to his purpose.”
     I have planted my seeds now as straight and true as I can in the best places and most ready where God has shown me to plant in this time between the rains. God has shown me many ways in which he wants me to trust Him.  I will continue to plant each year straighter rows with better seed suitable for the right purpose .  I will watch for the plants to flourish , grow and hopefully mature.  And I will travel back to the plots to see where my Faith is good, my Trust is reaffirmed.  And continue to see the good in where my failures of tests have lead me.  And fear not- knowing that in the journey I am doing the best I can.  My Peace.

Another note from Jose

Hola Tomas, Buenos Dias and all that stuff.  You know what I mean Amigo.

Just wondering what you been up to my friend.   Things got warm here in Racine, then they got cold , then they got wet again.   Went and seen my dad in New Mexico.  He just got back from Antarctica, its gonna get cold down there.  He says the penguins are doing good, seems that when all is said and done the global warming is doing them good after all.   It seems that the warmer waters has heated up reproductive activities, and more fish seem to be coming their way, especially the mackerel.

Talked to the boss he thinks maybe the end of next week we go back to work.   Like you say where you come from... Uff Da!
Hope to see you soon.

Your friend,
 Jose Jimenez

P.S.  Hey AMIGO can you bring the potato tortillas that you put butter and sugar on then roll it all up? leftovers or something you called it.  It was good.

Dear Jose,

Good to hear from you.  It sounds like you have the same weather there as we do here.   I may or may not be on your crew, they sent me to the training center to learn how to dig alongside the bomb.  It's a good thing to know yoga when you dig along side of pipe.     But maybe I will get sent back out west.   Hoping to get close to Williston or Watford City.   Do you remeber that lady from church?
Well she is becoming more special in my life, and she is even coming to visit Middle River again.  Seems as though she sort of likes the swamp and welcomes the look of leaves contrary to sage brush.
It's a good thing to have her as a friend.  Hmmmm.!?  I often wonder and hope for a brighter bigger picture with her.

It sounds like Hunter and Gracei had a good Spring season of ball.   Hunter and Gracei are both learning the fine art of throwing a pitch.  Although Hunter appeared to get a good talking to about control issues and beaning other opponents.

Going to pick some mushrooms tomorrow, so I have yo go to bed.
Buenos Noches My Friend

Tom

The Magic of Rainbows Present

   

  I was watching the birds in the yard yesterday.   I have quite a variety of birds visiting lately: blue jays, 2-3 different sparrows, dark eyed juncos, robins, flickers, woodpeckers, and a strange small red bird that i have not yet identified.   But the strangest thing I saw was when I was watching a deer sneaking in to the yard cautious and skittish as if it were being followed.
     I got my camera ready just in case something wonderful and amazing would appear, but just as fast as the deer appeared out of the brush, it got scared and ran off.  I stood and watched in anticipation.  I could just sense that something amazing and wonderful would happen.  Maybe a coyote would come running.  Maybe a bobcat or mountain lion would be on the prowl. Perhaps a timber-wolf or a bear was out cruising.  Nothing appeared.  I put the camera down and continued to do my daily chores.  It began to sprinkle.
     I listened to the rain for awhile, and during the rain times my thoughts seem to drift back to people and places I remember.  It just so happened that that one Beatles song came on the little radio in my kitchen, "In My Life."  As soon as the song was over and a little tear ran down my cheek, the sun came out and to the east across the the willow bog I saw a bent rainbow, faded and colorful, not too far away, and far enough to know that I could not walk there. Underneath this magnificent spectacle I thought what I saw in the grass evidence of stirring critters.
      I paid no attention to the long canary grass matted down at first.  Curiosity stirred the hunter and trapper in me.  Perhaps I would see a glimpse of a predator, maybe a baby predator.  Skunk? Raccoon?  I began to study and focus all my attention and senses underneath the rainbow.  The shifting in the grass was moving toward the yard.  Soon I knew with all the confidence in my heart that this great stirring underneath the grass was what caused the deer to leave.  I just knew it.
     A snowbank  still exists in a little band of trees between my yard and the willow swamp.   The life in the grass slowly was working its way to this snowbank.  I for sure would get a god glimpse of the creature as soon as he got on the bank.  I grabbed my camera. quietly exited my house, posted up for a good shot, and was truly astonished when the creatures appeared on the snowbank.  Click! I got it.

     Immediately I broke down into tears of joy and laughter.  Three winters ago when I moved back to my dad's farm,  his penguins had disappeared.  I put an advertisement in the local paper, but no one responded. "Lost: two breeding pair of penguins last seen heading north toward Middle River."  It was the last time I had seen or heard of dad's penguins since he built the great fence for them.  Yet from underneath the rainbow two baby penguins appeared as if to tell me in person, "We are alright.  Today everything is all right."
     They left, and immediately I wrote a letter to my friend Jose Jimenez.  I told of my kids ball games and how we are finally getting some green grass, and how we would soon be back to work.   I sent him the picture to share with his dad in Antarctica.  I named the two penguins Bobby and Tommy.  The picture should explain why; two buddies traveling along, taking a break on their journey and talking it out whatever matters are on their hearts,  wondering which way to go next.
     Hopefully the two babies will get along with the geese that are making my pond home.

Hillbilly Recipe

     It's been real nice lately being around a kid, not just any ordinary kid, but an onry 15 year old active boy.  One night at supper, he was quite critical and animate about the table venue.   Myself, being perhaps just as onry at times, decided that he could cook his own supper from now on.  I, being a little more accustomed to palatable table fare, allowed only one evening of  chef boy-ar- Hunter with plenty of ketchup. That isn't working very well either. Perhaps it was a guilt complex that maybe I wasn't giving my best, or that maybe a thought came I should get out of the box of  hillbilly cooking methods and try make something  more delictable to the customs of a hungry growing teen. Nevertheless, I found myself looking for a cookbook.  I thought maybe one night tater tot-hot dish would suffice.
     I went through a change of life recently, and for the love of all good things i will not expound on the details of searching high and low in my kitchen, through boxes in the house, through crevasses of the mind and soul, but I could not find a cookbook on my property to say politely as trying not to offend light eared readers, and not to revert to character defects of an untamed tongue and the mind of a uncouth hillbilly; but, I could not locate a cookbook to save my part of the body that cushions a seated pose.  I was explaining this to a friend of mine in frustration and laughter of the details of missing cookbooks from my home.  We decided that cookbooks do not belong to hillbillies.  And either a hillbilly can get by without one, or if he can not then he must lose a degree of status among the uncultured and unkempt life of fellow hillbillies.  After all, it would be poor to admit that we might actually use a written recipe or need one sometimes.
     I must share with the reader our next conversation of oral proportions.  I must also confess that men, especially hillbilly men actually share recipes.  Yes, ladies do not monopolize the recipe sharing world.  Single guys need to eat something different every so often and we do enjoy eating and eating well and we must share something with our fellow hillbilly buddies so that they should not suffer of get bored with with singleness of purpose  food.  So my friend shared with me his recipe in hillbilly dialect his version of potato soup:
     "You take a kettle like this one (grabbing a 4 quart sacepan).  You fill it about up to here( pointing about 2/3 toward the top) with potatoes and onions.  You can add some gralic if you have some around.  Cover with water and boil a long time.  After you boil it a long time, you can add some meat: bacon, ham or sausage.  Summer sasusage even works. Turn the heat way down(simmer).  Then you add a good goober(1/3 to a1/2) of sour cream or chip dip if you got it.  Add a smaller goober(1/4 to 1/3 cup) of ranch dressing.  Add cream to thicken it up, and milk to get it to the consistency that you want. Do not boil! jus let it simmer.  When the meat and everything is good and hot, add a good handful of grated cheese(any kind) on top.  Do not stir.  As soon as that is melted, dish it up."
     Be it male understanding, or hillbilly bonding, this recipe made very good sense to me.  I take no offense to one who whose noggin is baffled or perplexed.  Perhaps the reader is not hillbilly enough to comprehend simple explanations and may require a more scientific standard written down recipe.  And that is ok.  I personally extend my condolences.
     As for supper tonight I can cook using wither the hillbilly method, or a traditional recipe card method.  Either one will get my tater-tot hotdish in the oven.  As long as I mix in a dash of understanding, and a few shakes of respect,  a goober and a half of compassion  and a few sprigs of tolerance,  a bunch of love and a teaspoon of patience,  dinner will go just fine as it normally does.  I have to admit that it would be nice if having a kid in the house came with a recipe that turned out every time.  Bless my table Lord and we thank Thee for Thy gifts.

Rainbow Connection

     Been a little disconnected lately from my friend Jose out on the line.  Not much going on... just waiting for the weather and a call to head back to the Tioga Lateral Project in North Dakota.  In the meantime,  the my union is sending me to a training school to train me how to dig safely and effeiciently around hot (flowing) lines.  I can't help but remember m last conversation with my friend Jose.  I distinctly remember him talking about his family.  We pipeliners often spend a good deal away from our loved ones, and latley I am sure as I have been doing, connecting again with friends and family we love the most.
     I find it amazing how people even connect at all.   Think about it.  Take two individual human beings. They contain different likes and tastes,  unique qualities and preferences, different experiences and quirks...egos!  It seizes me to with astonishing wonder, how the human race could even repopulate itself, much less form civilizations, or societies.  I ask what is that bond that makes two people get along, or even give someone a first smile, not just in a male/female relationship  but more so, just two people; say, for instance, a kid and an adult.  Something more, something unseen, a force, a power of connectivity must be hard wired, or either is moving around us that must be in and among people.  I call this the rainbow connection.  This weekend  I can say I truly experienced that connection.
      My friend Brenda came to visit this weekend.   Crazy! She drove all the way from Williston to see Middle River, a drinking community, with a farming- hunting- fishing problem   Of course I was excited  and nervous.  What would I show her?  Who would I want her to meet?  She arrived safely and we began our little journey.  We had plans generally to show her some local flavor, fabric stores, attend church services, see the quilters guild.  I wanted her to meet some of the kids that were around,  and of course my mom and grandma    Our first stop on Saturday morning was Young's General store in Middle River,  too much to explain so I ask the reader to just Google it.  I wish I could describe the look on her face when she got into the fabric and sewing section.  She is a quilter.  And she found something she liked and wanted.  Things were going good.  Next stop, Thief River Falls, we just started driving , and she said, "Where does your Grandma live?"
     Oh yes! Karlstad,  She has been in the nursing facility for a few months.  I can't believe we almost forgot about grandma.  So we visited her.  I told Brenda stories about grandma on the way down.  But here are somethings I didn't tell her.  She was just an ordinary home-made grandma.  She loved to see us, she loved to send us away with something every time we saw her, whether it be a plate of cookies, or a National Geographic.  She knitted and sewed.  She warmed up beans on the wood stove while she cooked everything else in her oven.  She baked bread and made terrific soup.  She had us over often when we were growing up, and loved if we would drop off the little kids for a half hour while I picked up groceries. She once even had a cat that was invisible to the world especially little kids.  She would boss us around a little, and we loved her for it, and was animate if our behavior wasn't up to her standards.  She was a high class kind of lady who tried to make sure we were doing our best.  And around her we always were our best. We talked for awhile on Saturday morning. It was good to visit.  Ten minutes down the road I received a text from my cousin Kari.  We had just missed her.  She was also visiting grandma too.  It was truly a great day for Grandma.
     The rest of the day we made our destinations, and I truly loved the conversations we had.  Supper, Supper mess, clean up.  Bed time.
    The next morning getting ready for church services we were interrupted.  Grandma took a turn for the worse.  We traveled to Grand Forks where she was admitted.Not much we could do, but we did all we could to make her comfortable.  It was emotional.  It was not fun.  We all wanted answers and all we could do was wait.  Brenda suggested to get away for a bit.  And as for me I was in agreement.  I didnt like what I saw in the hospital anyway.  So we traveled to Buxton, ND to spend an hour with Jeremy and his famnily. (Brenda's son).  I was greeted at the door by running toddlers and preschool age kids holding nothing other than wild bunnies.  They all hugged their grandma  and were so proud to show off their baby rabbits.   Baby wild rabbits tamed and used to being held by energetic kids in the taming process of the human spirit.  Jeremy's in laws were also there.  I would really like to get to know Scott, a bow hunter from Duluth, MN.  His wife was interesting too, and I felt really at home around them, I recognized the Finnish-Minnesota accent right away.  What is that power that makes people even friendly?  What is it that makes a person want to sit down with someone that you have never met and just talk?... about stuff.  But we did.  And then we went to back to Grand Forks to see Grandma, and my brother Tony.  I traveled back to the hospital leaving Jeremy and his family and departed with a picture from Mattea,  a wavy crayola rainbow that now hangs on my fridge.
     Nothing changed, but we?  We traveled home and now our conversations were more melancholy, light, undertones of sadness, and gratitude that we had spent a little time to be with her while we were our best and she could see that.  Brenda stopped by the hospital with myself, my brother and mother on her way home to Williston.  I walked her out to the car and a few minutes later Grandma Tootie passed over to the other side of the rainbow.
" Why are there so many songs about rainbows
and what's on the other side?
Rainbows are visions, but only illusions,
and rainbows have nothing to hide.
So we've been told and some choose to believe it.
I know they're wrong, wait and see.
Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection..."
 ( Jim Henson)

     I imagine Jose is getting connected back at his home now too. Family bonds are more cemented like the glue in life.  But its the connection between people, those transparent colorful moments that create memories.  Like a rainbow, we can see it, we know its there, but we can't quite apprehend it.  We can try to explain it, and more often than not we ask more questions because of it.  What is it that connects us, family?  I suppose to a degree.  That isn't it though, because it goes even deeper than those kind of relationships.  I believe it is more temporal like those rainbows,  shared dreams, visions, common ideals, a shared smile about something or someone that both can agree are just commonly good, in that shared moment, that Presence. There is no denial that rainbows come and are that power from God. Like grandmas or the ideas of grandma, a kid giving a crayon picture to an adult, a friend waiting in a hospital room.  Fortunately my grandma was an ideal one, a connection we feel with others that brings out our best.  The connection that makes us hope that the people we meet, we will know for a lifetime. Today I am fortunate enough to experience the connection: "...The lovers, the dreamers and me."

Laid Off

     Being laid off stinks, plain and simple, especially for me. It isn't the lack of income.  I got a couple dollars saved for a little bit.  It's the ," what should i do now" thoughts that come to my head.  Believe me when I tell the reader that my mind is sometimes not a good place to go exploring.  Here are the top 5 genius ideas I have generated since I have been home.

5.   Kick a 21 year old kid out of my house because he wants to drink beer and won't come with me to church.  No discussion just put on the old size 13. Boot! Bam!  Come back when you want to get it right. 1 John 4: 7  Beloved let us love one another.

4.  Invite some old buddies over for coffee.  Are you kidding me... coffee,  they don't drink coffee, and neither do I.  Better yet invite them all over for some male bonding and see if anything is different this time.  Or how about better yet: Go down to the local watering hole and see what they are still up to!

3.  Take a road trip.  Oh yeah, that might require some planning and a destination. The last time I took a road trip I didn't come home for a few weeks, not that it was all bad, but I just don't remember it.  The movies The Hangover,  Road Trip, and Animal House about sum up that experience.Galatians 5:21 Envy, drunkenness, orgies, and things like these. I warn you, as I warned you before, that those who do such things will not inherit the kingdom of God.

2.  Tear apart the house.  That's right.  I already did that and put it back together.  I have already completely rid my home of the essence of unclassy femininity with extreme prejudice.  My best friend says I have to say it this way.  Like I am better? Rom 3:23  For all have sinned and fall short of the Glory of God.

1.  Overhaul my home with new appliances and gadgets. The kitchen could use a few things. New microwave, fridge, stove.  Oh and I wouldn't be in vogue unless i had a toilet bowl fish tank.  Why not a new t.v. computers. While I am at it, a brand new truck.  Might as well then build a garage.   Since I am at it, I should add on a 3 season porch right now....Romans 12: 2 Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.
   
     Differentiating between genius and insanity is hard.  Genius getting the ideas, and insanity would be acting on them and expecting a positive result.    ( Acts 26:24-25And as he was saying these things in his defense, Festus said with a loud voice, “Paul, you are out of your mind; your great learning is driving you out of your mind.”  But Paul said, “I am not out of my mind, most excellent Festus, but I am speaking true and rational words.)  Obviously even great people had problems with thinking too.
    In lieu of the grandiosity, those thoughts come to pass quickly now days.  Thank God!  Coming home has actually been serene.  Card game in the evening with Hunter...  Playing catch with Gracei...Talking of the future season with Skylar...  Visiting with friends...  Visiting mom and grandma...  going through pictures... making plans to visit my lady Brenda...  paying the bills... hauling kids around... Attend church...Swamp time with Ryan and Dakota... Spending time in prayer and meditation feeling God's presence.  Talking things out with like minded people.  Blog.
     Fortunately,  I can recognize my own strange thoughts now, have peace with my life and have something called Faith that just lets me know things are o.k. and as exactly as they should be even when I get toxic thoughts.  (Romans 5:1 Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ.)
     Guess being laid off isn't so bad.  I think a coat of paint in the kitchen will be just fine.  After all in the big picture, I am just living right now in an overgrown hunting shack, on a piece of overgrown hunting land, during another hunting adventure called life.

   

The Big Picture Painted in a Little Swamp

     Today  I travelled out to the swamp.  It's not a swamp like Hollywood would portray; rather, a junk of overgrown prairie mixed with oak savanna on glacial till ridges, mixed with boreal deciduous and conifer.  In between these ridges lies small tracts of peat bog, willows, slough grass, and cattails.   For those who know me that is where my family hunts whitetail deer.  What we were doing out there was scouting for next season.   The details are secret.  These secrets are a common courtesy that all avid deer hunters would not dare ask for they know what we were doing and would be impolite to ask any more details of where and exactly what, and how.
     We travelled on snowmobiles down abandoned roads and logging trails.  Funny thing is that this area northwest of Middle River has never been logged.  Since the arrival of the white man it probably has never been burned off enough.   Every time i go back to the swamp, I travel back in time.  I travel to a time when life was maybe simpler.  A time when immigrants took a few deer and grouse for a staple.  A harsher time than now when people cut a few cords of wood to burn in pot belly stoves to keep a small house comfortable if someone would tend the fire a couple times in the middle of the nights.  This time also included no electricity and people actually took the time to write a letter back to Norway by light of a kerosene lamp instead of shooting off an e-mail.   It is hard for me to imagine such a time in history, but I like to, and some parts of my life i have even tried living out  a fantasy of trying to live in old ways, actually earning a good portion of my income in the winter months by trapping fur.
     But what enthuses  me most are the kids.   I find myself telling stories to these kids of places in the swamp where we got a big buck or saw a bear or wolf one time.  Today one of my sons was telling me stories of his hunt while I was out on the pipeline this year.  We had scouted all summer and decided to place an observation post near one of our sacred hunting spots, "The Tamarack Strip."  Last November he called me with great enthusiasm to tell me how his planning had paid off.  my heart soared knowing he loved to tell the story and today he retold it to his fellow hunters young an old out in the middle of the swamp.
     We ended the day with a comradely run race of snowmobiles all the way from the corral to the cabin.  Yes the swamp atmosphere can get competitive.
       Today was a little different for me.  Nothing has changed really out in the swamp.  Yet, I never get tired of it or bored.  I was feel like I belong there, but the trees didn't seem to be dancing as lively.  I never grow tired of this swamp and I have not learned all its secrets, yet although the swamp was welcoming me home so to speak, it was almost as if the willows were mourning knowing I would be departing again. 
     When I go out to the swamp I often pray, " Heavenly Creator, whose voice I hear in the wind...."  Today the wind was more of a gentle breeze and the voice more of a whisper,  "Peace I give you until I see you again. We missed you, will miss you and we will welcome you again."
     Times change, but the core of the soul doesn't.  In the big picture, my adventures, my scouting may not always be a swamp.  It could be the gorges of White Earth Valley, Mouse River, or possibly the bluffs of the upper Missouri and Yellowstone River in Western north Dakota.  The adventurer in me takes mental notes of how I would hunt the open plains versus the confined forests.  It pulls on me the thought of hunting different deer, possibly antelope.  My soul seems to be shifting.  I owe it to those like me that have come before and similar hearts that are coming and have yet to come, to take on this new adventure with enthusiasm and the spirit of the hunter and explorer. 
     The big picture seems to be opening up many new doors and at the same time not slamming old ones shut.  Closing windows that lead in and down and leaving windows open that lead out and up.  It almost that time to to explore the big picture of my life as it is with its serious endeavors also,  and welcome any changes that may come.  I can not ignore the voice I hear when out on the Great Plains, during this time in America's history during this time of great change, "Come!"

Got an email from my friend Jose Jimenez today.

April 1, 2013

Hola Tomas,
     I made it back to mi casa ok.  Uff Da! What a drive man.  Still no green grass here and Peace Willow and Rainbow Joy are really itching to play some softball.  So  gringo, green we will go.  ha ha !  Heading to Albuquerque to see my dad and shag a few balls for the girls.  
     Dad will be leaving soon for Antarctica to catch the end of summer there.  Sounds like the hatch has been good with the penguins , but there seems to be a shortage of fish. So he is a little concerned.
Him and mom fight all the time about about this climate change thing.  Penguins more promiscuous, and prosperous, but the food supply seems to be running low for the little birds.  To me I cant figure out if penguins are a bird or a fish.  They both swim. They eat other fish, but a penguin has a beak, no? 
     Anyway Muchas gracias for the burrito the other day it was good, but i like more chicken and less beans.   We should still try to get our girls together for them to play some ball.  should be about another week here, but we are going to fly down to New Mexico anyway this weekend.

Hasta la vista....
Jose


April 4, 2013

     Buenos dias my friend.  No grass here either, just snow.  Gracei was just expressing to me her frustrations also about the conditions of the field where she plays.  and by the way many thousand thanks for the sandwich.  I don't particularly care for white bread, but the extra corned beef and cheese still made it delightful for the palate.
     It's funny you mention penguins.  My dad once built a fence for penguins.  He even talked about raising them.  Some people tell me that he actually did have some at one time.   So i really like hearing about penguins and would so one day like to meet your father.  
     I made it home too, and it is nice to have a little time off to be with the kids.  Been cleaning house in more ways than one you know.  So amigo,  stay in touch!  Good to hear from you.    I truly believe that God puts people together for a reason, and it is usually for a season or a lifetime.  Truly my brother, I hope our reason is for the latter.

truly
Tom

This Little Light of Mine

     "This little light of mine,  I'm gonna let it shine."  I remember as a child singing the song with confidence and enthusiasm.   As I got older I joyed in the little kids singing it in front of anyone.  Catchy tune, good words, simple tune make this song a favorite among youngsters.
     Some people live it and in others the light becomes dimmer.  Some you know the light is there but don't always see it.  I was in a friend's house the other day.  One of the rooms had a lighthouse theme. The walls had pictues of light houses and the shelves had little light house figurines.  It made me wonder why this person was into lighthouses so much.  When I asked her she didn't know.  On the way home it dawned on me.  
     A lighthouse  has its light shining all the time.  During the day we can not see it very well. Humble, they may just appear to be another building standing tall with a certain purpose to stand tall and look unique.  Something which is good in itself.  But where a lighthouse really performs is on the darkest stormiest nights. When no one else is around looking they stand out.  They stand even taller and brighter when ships are in turmoil and look for the bright light in the darkness from miles away.
     Some people are just like that lighthouse.  Day after day, they are their standing with their light mostly unseen.  But when it is their time to shine  they stand out brighter than ever, guiding that ship and marking land's boundaries.   The land they stand on represents to the panicked passengers and crew need most.   On the stormiest of nights it is the boundaries we look for.  What we all want to come home and set foot on solid ground.  The lighthouse shows us which direction to go.
     I met a lady out here who is like a lighthouse, a short person in stature, but who stands tall in her walk of life with her constant light shining toward others.   Let it shine. Let it shine Brenda.  Let it shine.

Mi Amor

"Amid the gloom and travail of existence suddenly to behold a beautiful being; and as instantaneously to feel an overwhelming conviction, that with that fair form, our destinies must be entwined, this is love."  unknown

     Sometimes the glamor of the pipeline isn't so glamorous.   A guy left for home today and explained he was having family problems.Most the guys are from somewhere else.  My friend Jose Jimenez is from Racine WI.  Rather than talk about the sad situation of our fellow crew member, we decided to share about something positive. Today he was telling me about his kids.  George is expecting a rare butterfly from India,  Rainbow Joy and Peace Willow are sad because softball season has started and they are forced to practice in the gym still.  They can't wait to get out on the green grass.  Much like my daughter Gracei.  His wife is struggling with the hustle and bustle of shuffling the kids around.  The days out here get monotonous doing the same job all the time,  and the conditions don't seem to ever improve.  I like him am just getting tired and need a break.
    To break the monotony, we tell stories.  We share our lives with each other, our dreams, our troubles.  We talk about love.  I asked him the other day because I was curious about his family. His dad lives in Alamogordo, NM.  His mother lives in Thunder Bay, Ontario.  I asked how they met.
     Their love is interesting.  His mother is a climatologist.  His father is a research biologist.  She was studying climate change, and he was gathering reproductive data on penguins at a research facility in Antarctica.   Two intelligent people alone in a cold place.... Hmmmm.  They just knew.  Love at first beak.  As for him and his wife,  She belongs to the Menominee Nation in Wisconsin.   They met at a pow-wow at Thunder Bay where his mom is from.  His dad hasnt the time to get a passport so mom flies to New Mexico for the Winter.   They make it work.
     I tell him of my new love,  Brenda.  She is from Williston, and I am from Middle River.  We met at church.  She shows me around Williston, and bakes me cookies.  I shovel her sidewalk.  We make it work.  Jose likes her cookies.  He says they are better than "Mi Amor."
     Funny,  what guys talk about about over a baloney sandwich to break up the monotony, out here while energizing America.  Nothing is gloomy about love, a common ice-breaker out here on the line.  And it happens in the most unique places.


 

The Fear Road.

     This morning at about 5:30 a.m. I received a call from the boss telling me not to drive to work.  No, I wasn't run off.  We were in a blizzard again.  No pipe getting put in the ground today.  I don't like driving when I can not see.  It makes me afraid.
     There was much talk of the violence that occurred over the weekend.  Apparently, two men were killed.  One in front of a strip club.   The other  was stabbed right here at my camp.  Fortunately I didn't witness or know anyone who did.
     At breakfast yesterday here is what I saw.  I saw a small group of men and women smiling with their Bibles open.    Awhile later  I saw about a hundred people singing praise and giving worship.   I listened to a pastor challenging his congregation to invite people to come to church and to help build a place where all  would like to come.     I saw people sharing their testimony of their path to Christ.   I saw families welcoming others into their homes to share Sunday dinner, and elderly telling stories of life.  My how things have changed.
     Or have they?  People are still finding their way to Christ.   Families are loving one another.   God is moving in people's hearts.  There seems to be an odor of fear out here.    The news seems to project it anyway,  and I know it weighs on many hearts.   Weather, foreign people,  patchy pasts,  housing,  economics,  crime,  seems that's all the news reports.   When we live in our fears, let them control us, make decisions on them.  Its like keeping our blinders on in narrow focus.  We only see the negativity and the enemy tries to suck us in.  When we let our fears rest in God,  He gives us the power to open our eyes and see what is really going on.  This is the day that the Lord has made.  Let us rejoice, and be glad in it.
     The same paths are open to all.  We choose which one to take:  the path of the blind, or the path of  wakedness.   Fear- Gate A same old same old... Joy Gate B.  The world of countless possibilities.  The sun is out now,  I can see a little better.  Maybe my friend Jose Jimenez would like to take a drive back to town and  hang out for awhile.  He said he was looking for something special to bring home to his kids. 

Welcome to My World

     Welcome to my first ever blog.  What I will bring to the reader are tales from the Bakken oil patch....  the great things that are happening,  the trials of the men and women actually out here doing it, the sobering words from the people back home, and my friends "who have always been here." 

     It has been said, "Ain't nothing finer than a pipeliner."  My girlfriend would agree, but my two ex-wives may have a different opinion.   It's all good.   I'm not telling their stories.  These are my stories.  

     These are stories from real people, real lives, real outcomes.  I am just a heavy equipment operator out here, on the Tioga Lateral Project, a 12 inch pipeline,  going from Tioga to Sherwood, North Dakota. I am just one of the 10 guys on a coating crew. My story is typical of those who come out here.  We are all just coming and coming and coming to find a decent wage for an honest day’s work.  We come from Minnesota, Wisconsin, Oklahoma, Wyoming, North Dakota, Texas, and Tennessee.  It's a trip.

     The days are getting longer now, which is good and bad. It means home soon to be with my kids, but less money to do something fun with them. Got a message from the new grandson today,  he just was showing me a peace sign.  So I sent one back at him via Haley's phone or some other gadget.  Sounds like me and him will get to come home about the same time.  God has a plan.  He is already answering our prayers.

     I have met a good friend, Jose Jimenez.  Jose comes from an interesting background.  I feel that I must intimate to the reader his tales also and the friendship that is developing.  My friend Jose and I drove to Williston today. Did our usual, had a bite to eat, went to church and visited our friends. I have to go pick him up shortly and bring him back to camp. I invited him to attend church with me at New Hope Wesleyan. He declined because he didn't want to fall out of favor with the new pope. Figures he's got a clean slate with the new dude, so in the pope he hopes. Speaking of New Hope, wasn't that the name of the Star Wars original? Read in the paper today that there was an altercation the night my friend Jose went to town to pick up some guys from our crew at the bar. A man is still at large with a heart tattoo on his neck. I asked him if he knew or saw anything that night. He just said, “Uff Da ! Mi amo Jose Jimenez.... No hablo ingles. Soy trabajo,"