A little slice of Heaven....

My eight year old grandson, Jaxson, is playing his first "real" baseball this year. He's played T-Ball and the YMCA league, but this year he's playing in a league where they actually keep score, there are winners and losers, and the coaches are trying to teach the importance of fundamental baseball. And, most importantly, they have real uniforms and nice hats......or so Jaxson says.

Of course being an old baseball player, coach, umpire, fan, father, and now grandfather who's followed the game for over fifty years, I have my own opinion as to what's important and how it should be taught. I'm a real stickler for teaching fundamentals, including the fundamentals of sportsmanship, gracious losing, and even more gracious winning. I was pleased to see all of these things taking place when Miss Elizabeth and I attended one of his games a few weeks ago.

But as everyone knows, the real reason grandparents go to little league ball games is to cheer for their grand kids, and if we're to be perfectly honest, to see them show that spark of potential talent that may set them apart from the others.......or maybe that's just me with the old competitive juices flowing.

Anyway, it was a great time to be out at the ball park. It was hot (of course), but one could find a bit of shade if you were skinny enough to take advantage of the long shadow cast by the light pole behind the bleachers. I do believe it was the first time I've seen a bleacher full of fans sitting in a perfectly straight line....

Jaxson had been to bat a couple of times and had hit the ball to get on base; nothing dramatic, but he was doing okay at the plate. In the field the players were alternating positions each inning and Jaxson was at shortstop when a pop-up came his way. This was his chance to shine.....he circled under the ball, ready to make the catch when the third baseman tried to make the catch as well....oops. An unexpected trip to the dugout, ice bag applied to the bruised lip, but none the worse for wear.

Hey, it's baseball; "rub some dirt on it and play", "don't let the other team know that it hurts". We've all heard that advice.......but, this is our grandson we're talking about, and Miss Elizabeth is sitting by me saying, "poor baby".....What's that all about! There's no crying in baseball!

Late in the game, the team is down by a few runs, and needs a big rally to win......and, yes, winning is important. Jaxson is at the plate with a serious look on his now swollen face, but he's a gamer and will give it a shot. Trying to make us all proud, he pulled one to right field, over the fielder's head, all the way to the fence for a triple. It was a stand-up triple, but he slid anyway just to get his uniform dirty. He scored on the next hit and slid again, just because he was encouraged by the amount of dirt generated by the first slide.

Oh, the joy of baseball. At any level it's great fun, and if you happen to be a grandparent, it's gotta be, as a friend of mine once said, "a slice of Heaven".

Hopefully I'll get to see another game soon....before I get to Heaven, but what do I know.

There's still time....

It's been months since I've written anything, and even now, I'm struggling to find that "creative" thought which will launch a witty, yet meaningful story to share.

Perhaps, somewhere deep in the crevices of my mind there's a spark, but for now it seems to be eluding me. I suppose it's just the end of the year doldrums, as I look back and see how little I accomplished in 2012, and how much lies ahead in 2013.

I suppose, however, some of my malaise could be due to the fact that it's the Sunday before Christmas and I've yet to finish my Christmas shopping. Oh, don't be alarmed, for it's the norm for me.

As Miss Elizabeth says, "You always wait until the last minute just in case something happens to me and you'll get off the hook altogether." She has such a way with words!

I, on the other hand, attribute my tardiness to the "thoughtful" approach I use to weigh the importance of each and every gift. A man can't just rush out and buy whatever happens to be on the shelf, can he? It takes weeks, and sometimes months, to find the gift that will have the desired effect.

And that, my friends, is why I'm still pondering......

After all, it's only Sunday, and Christmas is still two days away.....plenty of time for someone who has already put so much thought into the process.....

I'm quite sure that I'll find the perfect gift.  I'll know it when I see it......

But, as all of you know by now.....What do I really know anyway?

Getting older by the minute....

Yesterday was my 61st birthday......and that's about all I have to say about that!

I met some of my old high school buddies for breakfast, and as always, it was filled with laughter, tall tales, old memories, and some concerns for friends who are dealing with health issues that we all know could beset any of us now that we are at "that age".

One of my very best friends is dealing with some of those problems.....very serious, although he tends to make light of it when we're together. Yesterday, he mentioned that the risk of additional surgery is greater than living with the problem. Sometimes life gives us bitter pills.

What do I do?

How do I act?

We've known each other too long to just ignore it, and I've nagged him for years about giving up some of the vices that have exacerbated these health issues. But, he's the kind of guy who has always lived life to the fullest, and who probably won't change now.

Still rides his Harley.....with no helmet!

Still smokes.....but not as much!

Still enjoys the good food.....can't comment on this one!

You do what you can, say what you may, but in the end it's the decision of each of us to make the necessary changes. Not so much for ourselves, but for those who care about us.

Yesterday was my 61st birthday...... I hope to celebrate the next one with a breakfast with my friends.

All of them.

I've only got two hands.....

A few weeks ago we took delivery of a pre-packaged kit to build a combination playhouse and garden shed. You know, one of those wonderfully marketed, beautifully illustrated, cute as a button little cottages that two men can assemble in twenty hours........fat chance.

My two boys were coming home for a visit and it was my plan to have everything ready so we could tackle the ordeal of uncrating and assembling the kit......I even took a few minutes to read the instructions, all forty-six pages! On page three there was a list of the tools that would be needed to tackle the job, hammer, pry bar, level, skilsaw, tin snips, reciprocating saw.....reciprocating saw? I don't own a reciprocating saw, and I'm not really sure I know what one is. Not a problem...I have a computer, I have the Internet, I can have one in a manner of days.

Sure enough, I found what I was looking for and placed the order for a brand new Milwaukee SawZall, which according to the website, was exactly what I was looking for to do the job. My order qualified for expedited shipping and I would have it in a couple of days. Great, it would be here by the following weekend and I could continue the project. We have a great UPS delivery man, and when I pulled into the driveway Thursday afternoon, a large box awaited me......too large.....much too large for a new saw.

The packing slip indicated that this brand new, state of the art ShopVac, should have been received by someone in Indiana......not some old cowboy in Kansas.

So, I went back to the internet, found the phone number and called customer service. "Oops, our mistake." the man said. "Ship it back and we'll ship your saw when we receive the ShopVac." I didn't care much for the fact that he didn't trust me enough to ship my saw until he received the return, and I said so. He then assured me that he would see what he could do about sending it earlier. So I sent the ShopVac and waited for my saw.....and waited.....and waited. No saw appeared at my back door, and no communication from the shipper. Being the impatient man that I am, I called and asked for my account to be credited, which they promptly did. Back to square one.

At that point I decided to take a drive to a nearby town to make the purchase. I found what I was looking for, and drove home. What's that? A small box setting outside the back door.....SawZall.

Okay, so now I have two saws, and I've only paid for one. The next day was a busy day, and I didn't have time to call the merchant to see how we would handle the error. I was on my way home when my cell phone rang.....

It was Miss Elizabeth, who said, "Guess what?" I hate it when people say that. It could be anything, and I'm not a very good guesser. But, I played along and said, "I don't know, what?"

"UPS just delivered another SawZall."

Good grief! Now, I've got three new SawZalls and only two hands......What's a guy to do?

Well, as we all know by now - don't look to me for answers, 'cause what do I know?

Dust in the wind.....

It's been awhile since I've had the inclination to write anything. The summer has been, and continues to be brutal. And, as the drought continues across the country those of us in Kansas are truly suffering.

This morning, however, I awoke to overcast skies and a few drops of rain. Not enough to even settle the dust, but a pleasant break from the stifling heat to which we've become accustomed. Day after day of 100+ temperatures, and not much relief once the sun sets in the evening. Last night it was still 100 degrees at 11:00pm.

The grasses in my pastures are brown and crisp to the touch, and in the areas where the cows have grazed heavily the ground is barren and dust swirls in the hot wind. I'm hesitant to drive across the pasture for fear of starting a fire that would rage out of control with the heat, wind, and lack of humidity. All in all, it's a dire situation for both man and beast.

I have sixteen cows and sixteen calves trying to scrounge for food, water, and shade. Most days I'll find them lined up along the pond dam, standing in water that barely covers their knees, but undoubtedly adds to their comfort. At the start of the summer the cows would have been neck deep, but that pond has all but gone dry. Fortunately, I have two others, but without some significant rainfall they will be in the same sad shape.

The drought has driven up feed prices, and has driven down the price of cattle as more and more producers are having to downsize, or liquidate, their herds. I'll sell calves next month that will bring significantly fewer dollars than they would have earlier this year.....hopefully, I won't have to sell the cows as well.

I'm typically an optimist, but it's becoming more and more difficult to see the silver lining. I'm sure it's still out there, somewhere in the distance.....somewhere....in the distance.....but what the heck do I know anyway!

Are we having fun yet?

"Are you floating or walking?" That had become the question of the day on our recent float trip. We were bone tired, hungry, thirsty, and were just a little cynical of our leader's decision making abilities.

Oh, I forgot.....There's no leader in sight!

The first day of a floating/fishing trip is always filled with optimism. We were up at 5:00am, had our fishing equipment and boats loaded in the truck and on the road to Arkansas by 6:30am. It's about a 5-6 hour trip by the time you allow for pit stops, lunch, and a short shopping stint at Bass Pro in Springfield (another story for another time).

In past years we've met up with our group at the cabin, then proceeded to the river for a short float on the first day. Of course last year the river was at flood stage and all of our floats were "short, fast & furious".

This year would be different!

We had noticed how dry everything looked during the drive over, and it was evident that there had been very little rain for a few weeks. So when we arrived at the river we weren't surprised to see the water much lower than the year before. It may have been lower, but it was crystal clear and very inviting.

It was 3:00pm and time to launch. We'd be finished with this eight mile float before dark; plenty of time for some refreshments and a nice dinner.....

Within a couple hundred yards we hit our first snag, literally. There wasn't enough water in the shallow spots to keep our pontoon boats afloat. Not a problem, we just stood up and dragged the little boats through the shallows and into the next pool.....and again, and again, and again....float and walk, float and walk, slip and fall, bang your knee on a rock, bruise your shin on the boat....all the way down the river!

"Hey, how much farther 'til we reach our destination?" No answer from our leader.

There was a stiff wind in our face, and all of us were struggling to make headway against it. We were getting no assistance from the current since there wasn't enough water to create a downstream flow. Someone wisecracked, "Maybe if we turn our boats around and row backwards it'll be easier....you know, the wind will be at our back instead of in our face!" I won't divulge the identity of the person who uttered that little gem.

Anyway, I think you get the "drift".  After lots of walking, lots of rowing, and lots of sarcasm, we found ourselves gazing at the stars, which were beautiful by the way, and about two-thirds of the eight mile float was behind us. The stars were bright, but the moon was nowhere to be seen. It was dark, but at least we weren't lost.....we were still on the river.....

"Are you walking or floating?  "I can't see you."

"I can't see anything".

"Are we there yet?"

"If we go under the bridge, we've gone too far."

No one had a flashlight. No one had drinking water. No one had thought to bring a sandwich. Did I mention that it was also dark!

It was approaching 11:00pm when we heard a car and glimpsed it's headlights piercing the darkness across the bridge. We knew we were nearing the end of the journey.....

"Hey Wayne, why don't you hit the alarm button on your key so we can see where your truck is parked?"

"Yeah, that's a great idea."

"What do you mean, the keys are in the truck???"

It was fun and we'll probably do it again......but as always, what do I know?

No one knows it all....

I live on a small ranch/farm and know all too well the difficulties of making sure that everything that needs to get done...gets done! It's a constant battle to ensure that fences are in good repair, cattle are checked daily, pastures are sprayed, and on and on and on....

So what's the big deal, you say. You made the decision to live that lifestyle and the hard work that goes with it. And, of course, you would be correct. It's a lifestyle that's like no other, except for that of an owner of a small business. Now, that's hard work!

Oh, but wait; Owning a small ranch or farm is the same as owning a small business.....they are one in the same.

A few weeks ago I was invited to speak at a gathering that was identified as a Farmers and Businessmen Banquet.  My opening line was something to the effect that "How do you differentiate between the two?"  It was met with a resounding "thumbs-up".

Both vocations, small business ownership and farming, require  a commitment to long days, multiple disciplines, and a willingness to seek help when you need it. In my case, help is something I seek on a regular basis. I know when I'm in over my head, and know enough to find someone who can give me the guidance I need. There's nothing wrong with asking for help when you need it, and believe me it's far better than beating your head against the wall when you don't know the answer yourself.

My day job is that of a business coach, and I'm constantly coaching business owners on the "how-to" of starting and operating a business. How's the best way to market your product? Is it better to lease or purchase a piece of equipment? Is it better to be an LLC or Sole Proprietorship? Then, they ask "How am I supposed to know all of this stuff?"

My answer is, you shouldn't even consider trying to know how to do it all. That's a sure-fired way to run your business into the ground. Concentrate on the things you do best, and get help with the things you either don't know how, or don't like to do. Otherwise, those things will probably get done poorly, or not get done at all.

The moral of the story is; No one is an expert at everything, and there is nothing to apologize for when you need to ask for help......In fact, it's probably the smartest decision you'll make.