Old Year Resolutions

The home renovation was put on hold during the year 2013 so we could concentrate efforts on various other projects needed around the farmage. In order of accomplishment, here are the four major projects we finished during the year:

1. Nana Pam's Chicken Fortress. Originally, this project was undertaken in order to provide more efficient use of space for the chickens. To build this extension to the existing shed, we first removed the existing chain link fence surrounding the original chicken run. We then built a new and improved chicken run designed to provide a safe and secure enclosure for the chickens and to house outdoor equipment. The structure was meticulously built to redneck specifications using 4x4 support posts, and has been further improved with a rain-water collection system and solar-charged electrical system. The first chickens put into the enclosure met with an untimely end, i.e., they were "offed" by a family of racoons. We reinforced the enclosure and recruited more chickens to man the fortress - but within a month these chickens were also decimated by either the same family of racoons or a different clan of racoons that had learned how to break-and-enter using tools. We AGAIN reinforced the enclosure, and AGAIN recruited more chickens, and this time we renamed the chicken run "Nana Pam's Chicken Fortress" in an attempt to intimidate and discourage further invasions. Nana Pam suggested the installation of an electrified fence with alarm system and that we hire an armed militia force with automatic weapons to provide additional security. After careful consideration I rejected that idea - having fresh eggs is nice, but I don't think the cost would be justified.

2. Danger Lane Entrance Gate and Dog Escape Prevention System. This was one of our essential tasks. Originally, the property had a relatively secure steel gate (which you can still see from the street view of google earth). But, since we moved in, there have been a number of wind storms and close encounters by tornados that virtually destroyed the gates. Also, after the purchase of a small camper, we realized that it was no longer safe to wait in the street while the gate was wrestled open. ALSO, we acquired two new dogs that required a safe enclosure that keeps them from the street and protects them from the local rednecks driving by. All of these reasons combined to encourage us to build a new gate. We designed and built a recessed gate that allows us to safely park in our own drive out of the street while the gate automatically opens via remote control while protecting our dogs from passing vehicles (as well as protecting any passing pedestrians from our dogs).

3. Nana Pam's Green House. We had been wanting to put in a green house since moving into the place. We found one as a kit that was an all-aluminum frame with polycarbonate panels (for less price than we thought we deserved). The thing was delivered in a fairly good sized box and we had to transport the unassembled greenhouse in pieces from the front of the house to the rear of the garden. Putting it together was like putting together a great big 3-dimensional jigsaw puzzle, but we are extremely happy with the result. We have since had a couple of wind storms with 40 mph gusts and the thing held up just fine. Now, besides the garden, we have an additional place from which plants can be properly neglected during growing season.

4. Danger Lane Workshop Loft Access and Observation Deck. This was probably the most needed of our projects. The original stairs to the loft were rotted and about to fall down - in fact, the previous structure was quite hazardous. In the process of tearing down the old stairs, I found that the barn's rim joist had also been damaged by rot. Thus, the first step after tearing the stairs down was to repair the barn's rim joist. This added time to the entire project and I was on a deadline - Nana Pam insisted that she have access to the loft by Thanksgiving in order to retrieve the Christmas decorations. This deadline was met, but just barely - the stairs were not installed until the day before Thanksgiving and only with help from Robbie the Robot, the son-in-law and father to Jackson Danger, who turns out to be not only a superb graphics artist but a good woodworking assistant to boot.

All in all, it was a productive year and we can now begin 2014 with thoughts of renovating the second-story of our humble home.

Oh, boy. Can't wait. Looking forward to it. Blah, blah, blah.

Happy New Year.

Letters to the Commish

In an effort to encourage the National Football League to stop the practice of naming sports teams that deliberately offend various groups of people, the following letters have been sent to the NFL commissioner. These letters have been copied here to help bring awareness to this offensive practice.


Dear Commish:

I am offended by the name of the sports team you call the "Buccaneers". This name is associated with pirate activity. As plainly seen during football games televised in Tampa Bay, the fans dress up as frightening pirates and the stands are filled with frightening pirate paraphenalia. I once knew a person who had a sister who knew a friend of a cousin who was associated with a co-worker who had once seen a boat load of what was thought to be Somali pirates while on a cruise in the Gulf of Panama and it frightened her to the extent that she could no longer hear of the Disney theme park ride "Pirates of the Caribbean" without being compelled to drink a gigger of rum mixed with tonic water.

Please consider forcing a change of the name of the "Buccaneers" to something else. The name of a flower would be acceptable, something like the "Tampa Bay Lupens".

Sincerely,

Mrs. Evelyn Smith-Smythe-Smith
concerned citizen



Dear Commish:

I am a professional linguistic instructor and I simply get offended by the names of certain football teams, such as the Denver "Broncos" and the Indianapolis "Colts". When these two teams meet each other for a contest, I simply cannot focus on the game because of the utter redundancy implied by the mascots involved. "Colts" versus "Broncos" - does that really happen in real life? Do two classes of equines actually compete with one another simply because of age difference? How absurd!

Please consider forcing a name change for both of these two teams. I'm certain that horse-lovers everywhere would be grateful. I'm certain that there is a horseman somewhere in Utah who is a descendant of the ancient Roman Equestrian Order and is offended by the blatant misuse of the terms "Colts" and "Broncos".

Sincerely,

Romulus Conistsky
President, Utah Order of Equestrian Awareness



Dear Commish:

I am offended by the name of the sports team you call the "Cleveland Browns". I am a Mexican national living in this country without proper documentation working as an activist to force change of U.S. laws at the behest of my own government. Not too long ago, during a protest march, I snacked on what I later found out to be some rancid re-fried beans and had a terrible accident that left a large brown stain on my otherwise white boxer shorts. Ever since that day I cannot hear about another sports team "losing to the Browns" without weeping silently for the embarrassment of losing bowel control in the middle of Cleveland Avenue in downtown Atlanta.

Please consider forcing a change of the name of the "Browns" to something else. The name of a popular food would be nice, like the "Cleveland Burritos" or the "Cuyahoga Chayotes".

Sincerely,

Ann Chilada
Mexican citizen



Dear Commish:

I am offended by the name of the sports team you call the "New England Patriots". I work for the Internal Revenue Service in a branch office that is pursuing and harassing certain organizations that use the word "Patriot" in their brochures. I consider the word "Patriot" to be an offensive term used to encourage the common people to distrust the IRS in general. This attitude makes my job more difficult than need be. Besides, there is no such place as "New England" - the area is neither new, nor is it actually England.

Please force the "New England Patriots" to change the name to something else. Why not the "Massachusetts Revenuers"? Are maybe something more intimidating to other football teams, like the "Auditors".

Sincerely,

Les Integrity, IRS Agent



Dear Commish:

I am offended by the name of the sports team you call the Baltimore "Ravens". I happened to read the Edgar Allen Poe piece "the Raven" while attending a whiskey tasting convention in Kentucky featuring a mascot for "Old Crow". Quite frankly, the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore scared the hell out of me. I said right there and then that nevermore will I allow myself to look upon anything resembling an ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling while perched on the pallid bust of Pallas just above anything that remotely resembles my chamber door - and this includes a high-definition broadcast of a Baltimore Ravens football game.

Please, PLEASE consider forcing a change of the name of the Baltimore "Ravens" to something less frightening and offensive, such as the Baltimore "Plutonians".

Sincerely,

Aidenn Lenore



Dear Commish:

I have a great fear of large predatory animals. Sometimes I have nightmares of being eaten alive by a large cat, especially after watching a football game involving the Carolina Panthers, the Detroit Lions, the Jacksonville Jaguars, or the Cincinnati Bengals. A particularly bad episode occurred during the third quarter of a recent Chicago versus Houston game: I had to seek therapy after I shot my wide-screen television while having a waking-dream of a giant bear about to consume a Texan at the Alamo struggling for extra yardage against the forces of Anna Farris.

Please consider forcing a change of the name of all the teams named after large pretadory animals. Use names that are much more soothing, non-threatening, and encouraging, such as the Carolina "Peaches", the Detroit "Dandelions", the Jacksonville "Jokers", the Cincinnati "Benefactors", and the Chicago "Community Organizers".

Sincerely,

Sigmund Freud



Here are excerpts of other "Dear Commish" letters:

"As an anthropologist, I object to the anthropomorphization of various football team mascots, such as bills, saints, raiders, 49ers, vikings, packers, redskins, and cowboys."

"As a student of mythology, I object to mythologizing various football team mascots, such as giants, titans, and seahawks."

"As an ornithologist, I object to using birds as various team mascots, such as eagles, falcons, and cardinals."

"As a realist, I object to using metaphor as a team mascot, such as jets, steelers, chargers, dolphins -- especially "dolphins"; dolphins playing football? Really?"

"As a person embracing mediocrity, I object to anything that indicates excellence and superiority, such as Chief Executive Officer, Chief Master Sergeant, Chief Petty Officer, Chief of the Boat, Chief Constable, and especially for some unknown reason the KANSAS CITY CHIEFS."


Remember, the world will not be a better place until nobody is offended by nothing. Only your offensive action can encourage the unoffended to be offended by the inoffensible. Support your local chapter of "People Offended On Purpose" (P.O.O.P.). Apply to start your own chapter and become head of the movement in your local area -- Get offended, and become a P.O.O.P. Head today.

Anyone for a Weiner Dog roast?

Due to an unusual occurance Monday night, I didn't get much sleep.

First, I dreamed there was a knock on the door and that the door bell had rang. This woke me up, and I listened carefully. I knew that if someone was at the door, Petey the Weiner Dog would be barking as if he was the last starving dog on earth and a steak dinner was trying to get in. But, I didn't hear Petey, so I decided to go back to sleep. But, not much later, I thought I heard the door bell ringing again and someone knocking at the door again - and this time, I did hear Petey "say" something about it.

Now to understand the following paragraph, you must first know what was in our minds. A couple of weeks ago, Nana Pam and I read an article about home invasions.  Apparently, a favorite tactic of home invaders is for one of them to approach a door pretending to be a stranded motorist while the others hid nearby waiting for the unsuspecting homeowner to open the door. After we read that, we both decided that if Petey the Weiner Dog ever alerted because someone came to the door late at night we would be armed and ready.

Well, someone was now at the door late at night. And now wide awake and thinking "home invaders", I sprang out of bed, armed myself with a pistol and slipped on my house shoes. Nana Pam, however, was way ahead of me - by the time I had the pistol in hand, she had already put on jackboots, slung an ammo belt onto her shoulders, grabbed her AR-15, slapped in a high-capacity magazine and chambered a round. She would have looked quite formidable if it hadn't have been for the pink-and-green-kitty pajamas she had on (female "Rambo" wearing comfortable colored clothing comes to mind).

With her left hand on the door knob, Nana Pam shouted over her shoulder, "STAY DOWN AND FOLLOW ME". She then burst through the door, swung the rifle muzzle toward the front door, shouted "CLEAR" and bounded down the stairs, all the while calling out "MAMA'S COMING, PETEY! I'LL SAVE YOU, PETEY!". By the time I got downstairs myself, she was already soothing Petey the Weiner Dog and cooing soft words to calm him down.

At this point, I noticed some peculiar flashing lights through the window. I cautiously opened the front door, and saw no less than three firetrucks, a rescue responder and a full pumper unit in the front yard, surrounded by two dozen firemen in full fire-fighting regalia complete with fire axes. I no longer suspected a home invasion, but I really didn't know what to do, so I slowly withdrew back into the house and closed the door. And it was only a moment later after glancing out the back door that I noticed copious amounts of flame and smoke billowing from the backyard between the shed and Danger Lane Workshop.

THE COMPOST HEAP WAS ON FIRE!

Well, you know me - I'm unflappable, I'm fearless, and I don't panic easily. But, seeing flames in the backyard so close to the other out-buildings caused a certain part of my anatomy to pucker up like a dried prune. Only Nana Pam remained composed; she pushed me out the back door with firm instructions to ensure the security of the chicken coop from the conflagration - not her exact words, but you get my drift (Note for little Jackson Danger: We do NOT use the type of language used by Nana during compost heap fires in the middle of the night).

The good folks from Pumper 36 were magnificent (God bless 'em). They positioned the smaller pumper unit near the blaze and administered a copious amount of water onto the fire, putting it out in short order. But, they didn't stop there - they dismantled the frame of the ruined compost heap piece by piece and extinguished each and every spark they found. In the meantime, I consulted with the fire captain, who maintained a confident and reassuring manner throughout the whole ordeal. He explained that the entire firehouse responded after a neighbor saw the fire on his way to work and called 911 after unsuccessful attempts to awaken the sleeping occupants (namely, Nana Pam and yours truly). Apparently, the exact nature of the fire had not been accurately communicated in the 911 call, so naturally, the fire captain had to assume the worst (i.e. a structure fire) and responded in kind. Nice to know the good folks at Pumper 36 are on top of things (God bless 'em).

After Pumper 36 ensured all was well on Buddha Belly Farm and had departed the area, I found myself too keyed up to go back to bed (possibly due to the parting words of the fire captain, to wit: "If we ever have to come back here to fight a compost fire in the middle of the night again, there will be HELL to pay, MISTER Bonehead".)

So, in an attempt to relax, I spent some time on the computer reviewing the obvious web site information that anyone would want to research after a night like this - you know, things like:

the penalty for violating current burn bans;

the average cost of replacing a barn that had been burnt to the ground;

and

the expense associated with three heavy fire engines responding to a fire in a compost heap, and the amount of any fine imposed for such a hypothetical event.

All in all it was a very eventful night. And we did learn some valuable lessons that would ordinarily be overlooked:

Lesson 1: Petey the Weiner Dog no longer cares if someone comes to the door at night;

Lesson 2: The new dogs apparently don't care, either;

Lesson 3: Nana Pam and I cannot hear someone at the front door from our bedroom;

Lesson 4: From our gun handling exercise, we know who is prepared to prevent a potential home invasion, and who is not;

Lesson 5: From the friendly firefighters of Pumper 36 (God bless 'em), we learned the proper technique for putting out a compost fire in the middle of the night;

And Lesson 6: We learned what can cause a compost fire in the middle of the night and subsequently how to prevent one (See blog dated September 28, 2009).

(Editing note from Nana Pam: Perhaps "Lesson 6" should be renumbered "Lesson 1". Think about it, Bonehead.)