Child Prodigy

My favorite Grandson Jackson Danger came for a visit over Christmas and of course had to bring those two people who take care of him, namely Robbie and Catie.

During the visit, I was allowed to spend some time alone with Jackson (those “two people” don’t let me be alone with Jackson very much – I don’t know why) and I sang a little song to him which he seemed to greatly enjoy. It’s a gentle little song familiar to many redneck parents and grandparents who have sung it to their progeny over the years to the tune of “Turkey in the Straw”:

Oh, I had a little chicken but she wouldn’t lay an egg.
So I poured hot water up and down her little leg.
Oh, the little chicken cried and the little chicken begged,
But she wouldn’t even try to lay a hard-boiled egg.

Jackson seemed to like the little song and told me that he had written a second verse to this little ditty. He was gracious enough to share the second verse with me and in turn I share it with you here on Buddha Belly Farm blog:

Oh, I had a little chicken, but she wasn’t bar-b-qued.
She was roasted in the oven as a tasty Cordon Bleu.
With some lightly sautéed mushrooms and a fruity chardonnay,
She was much more appetizing than the egg she wouldn’t lay.

There is a certain sophistication and latent intellectualism revealed within Little Jackson’s lyrical ability. In fact, I think he is a child prodigy, a genius. The little fella brings tears of joy to these tired old eyes and a great sense of pride to my soul. I mentioned to Catie that it was so heartening to know that her son, my grandson, has so much in common with me, and was so much like me, his beloved and respected Grumpa. And I vowed to her that I would teach Little Jackson every thing I know.

Upon hearing these words, my loving daughter, mother to my grandson, gently placed her hand on my shoulder and said, “Dad, it’s bad enough Jack has inherited your ‘physique’, such as it is. I certainly don’t want him to be afflicted with your warped sense of humor.” With that, she took Little Jackson from me and I heard her softly say to him as she walked away, “Mama ‘good’, Grumpa ‘bad’.”

Motherhood has not changed Catie too much – she’s still a rotten little girl.

Wonderful white Christmas in Newalla, Oklahoma

Timing was perfect. Robbie and Catie and Jackson Danger arrived from Lenexa, KS, the night of the 23rd, and Christmas Eve morning the 2009 Blizzard began.

Visibility dropped to less than an eighth of a mile, and snow drifted around the buildings. But, Pam and I have seen worse, having lived in North Dakota the first part of our marriage. In a way, this little blizzard sweeping through the plains of Oklahoma is somewhat of a treat. We have a house full of food and drink. The only thing missing is the last member of our little family, Daniel, who is stuck in Edmond, north of Oklahoma City. He probably will not get here until Saturday. We are expecting Linda and Tom from Tulsa then as well, so maybe then we can eat up some of this food.

Merry Christmas to all. And for pete’s sake, Oklahoma, stop dreaming of a white Christmas already.

Dad's situation

The last few weeks have been busy. For those few hardy souls who enjoy reading this blog, you notice that nothing has been posted for about a month. We at Buddha Belly Farm have just been too busy with other pressing matters.

For those of you who don’t know, my dad had a stroke about three weeks ago. At the time, he was visiting in Missouri taking care of some things at his house he’s trying to sell. It was a minor stroke, but he ended up being taken first to the local hospital and then to the hospital in the Baptist Home for the Aged. I was on a business trip at the time in Georgia and cut the trip short to meet Linda (my sister) in Missouri to check on Dad and see what needed to be done.

Based on our own observations and after consulting with those in the know, it was determined that Dad should immediately be admitted into the assisted living center at the Baptist Home for the Aged.

At first, he expressed some concern about being in the Home, but after signing all the paperwork and recognizing that everyone he knows is nearby, he is now resigned to the situation.

The Baptist Home is where Dad wanted to be when the time came and had recently applied for an apartment there. He still wants to be on his own, but that is now impossible. Looks like his traveling days are over as he now needs daily assistance.

At this point in most blogs, it is customary to appeal for donations and contributions to provide for Dad’s daily needs. This is not necessary as the Baptist Home is an excellent charity-based and charity prone facility that will take care of Dad regardless of his ability to pay.

So, that is the gist of the matter. Not much update for three weeks of activity. But, as you know, I am a man of few written words.