Front Porch Magazine - Summer-Fall 2012

inside New Businesses Abound 5 6 8 9 10 11 12 14 16 18 20 21 22 23 24 26 28 30 32 34 35 36 37 38 40 41 42 44 45 46 48 50 51 52 54

From Us to You ... to form a more perfect union Novosad Home Kat’s Kitchen Summertime...here is comes Professional Directory The Sky is Falling How Firm a Foundation May I..., Excuse Me Silencing Men on Abortion Nanny’s Silver Swing The Difference Is...

Abbott and Costello Faith and Friends Don’t Change Teacher’s Retirement Hot Dogs and Wild Hogs We the People The Importance of One The Power of a Mother’s Prayer Back Porch Calendar of Events A Life of Purpose Live Well in Burleson County A Dollar’s Worth Hadacol...The Cure All Shoes in Church How Much Trust Jimmy’s Sunday Blues The Carpenter Teach Your Children Well Snake Bites Danny Koerth, CPA, P.C. What to Do....

Boondocks Care When Life Hands You Lemons

To subscribe to the Front Porch Magazine email imagemaker@airplexus.com or call 979-567-7871 or 979-567-6753 Note: Front Porch Magazine is published twice per year.

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F

rom us to you Editors Note

2012

is election year, Olympics time, leap year, the 12th year of the millennium and the 21st century....ARE YOU READY???

In this edition of the Front Porch, we have chosen to focus on the freedoms we have today.

These blessings and rights as American citizens are due to the wisdom and sheer determination of our forefathers.

In this election year, it is our hope that you will indeed VOTE, a right and responsibility that we often take too lightly.

Again, we are seeing evidence of growth in the area. Don’t miss the Featured New Businesses on page 4.

We continue to expand our writer population with new articles by local residents of this county.

Enjoy our stories, and be sure to shop locally.

Remember, you can visit the Front Porch Magazine online at www.frontporchmagazine. com.

Sincerely, Sandi Balcar Scarlette Taylor 5

“. . .to form a more perfect union,” Perfection was and is a lofty goal.

What if we just agreed to love our neighbor?

By: JoAn Majors

The preamble to the United States Constitution was written by our Founding Fathers as an introduction to the Constitution over the summer in 1787. It was written to establish purposes and the general principles of the Constitution. It tells what those founding fathers set out to do. “We the people, in order to form a more perfect union…”

If you look back in history hundreds of years, it appears that morale as well as financial projections seems to rise and fall as predictably as the sun and moon rise and set. Although we live in a time (an election year) when it is easy for each party to place blame on the “other” party, no one really wants to be the first to make a move to positive change versus promising change. Perfection is an admirable goal, one that even someone easy to please could find fault in with a slight difference of opinion or perception.

What if we agreed that we would disagree but left the “nasty” behavior out of it? Now, that’s a goal! Especially those who stand on the sidelines and hide behind rude emails, tweets, blogs and other social media that has allowed even the most timid to become toxic if no one can see who you are.

The reason to bring this up is twofold. First, I want readers to remember that it is easy to get on a noisy bandwagon, you just blend in. It’s like getting in line and waiting because everyone else did, not because this is the line you are supposed to be in. Second, stepping out and doing the right thing or encouraging others when it all seems gloom and doom to do so, is more like being a leader…it is not a popularity contest! It’s ok, feel the pain and do it anyway!

Why should someone else be first to say or do the right thing? Why not you? Just ask yourself, I do on a regular basis. Calling me into question is what keeps me sane and grounded. It is also good for self esteem. When you realize there is only one person who is perfect, and as far as I know, He is not back yet, you and I realize we’re pretty normal!

Perfection, a perfect union, and political positiveness are some things to strive for. We should all try to look for something good in the candidate, the officer, the teacher, the doctor, the parent and the student. Finding fault is easy and why many take the easy road. Finding the good when others are noisy and on a bandwagon is a real challenge.

Many times “the good” is even more challenging to be heard.

Recently, our local schools fell under harsh accusations, and, boy oh boy did the press come out to play! I found it interesting that so many posted negative comments on the TV stations website about teachers, students and issues, yet with the school board meetings happening nearly bi-monthly the average number of people who actually show up face to face with a concern is minimal compared to the hundreds of people willing to dig in online!

“We live in an era of American history shaped by a sense of discouragement so enormous that it is holding us hostage and paralyzing our forward progress. The core values that have made us a great nation—our ingenuity, hard work, perseverance and concern for one another as fellow citizens—are threatened by a toxic combination of greed, fraud, incompetence and exploitation. The result for all strata of our society is a condition of imbalance, mistrust, uncertainty and cynicism. Hence, what rises to the surface is not our American can-do-ness but rather our deepest, craziest fear (False Evidence Appearing Real).” This is actually an excerpt from my book published last summer called, EncourageMentors. Odd, how it still describes where many Americans find themselves today and other times in our history.

Our forefathers had a plan to build something great that suggested “we” were the people, that “we” could form a more perfect union. It meant each of us had a role and they trusted “we” the people to do the right thing. Today each of us still has a role to exercise agreement or respectful disagreement. This is most often done by voting which is a right and privilege that does make a difference. We must write letters, make phone calls, send emails and be heard by name respectfully by those who represent your country, state, district, county or community. This allows our views to be in an arena that is governed and available to all who are deserving of a voice in our great nation.

Freedom of speech was never meant to bring hate to our country or our community. Unfortunately, it often sells more papers, books, and media than the stories that are good for mankind.

Hate is heavy, lighten your load and "JoAn Majors is a professional speaker give it up! We can probably all do betand member of the National Speakers ter and be better to each other startAssociation and the Global Speakers ing in our own community with our Network, a two-time business founder neighbors. “Love your enemies…” and a three-time author. For more on another really lofty goal for those of her seminars and her latest book, Enus who are not perfect. How about couragementors: 16 Attitude Steps for we just try to love our neighbor? It’s Building Your Business, Family & Fua great place to start, wouldn’t you ture, visit http://joanmajors.com. agree? Love and a perfect union, well, they go hand in hand!

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S

ome six miles down the winding road of FM 166, outside of Caldwell, the Ben and Sharon Novosad home can be found. This thirty-odd year old home is and has been a part of the Providence Community, the area Ben Novosad’s family ranched, and where Ben helped his parents, Ben, Sr. and Alma, improve the land. His parents lived on their land till their deaths in 1995 and 2010, Alma living to age 96.

This home on the Novosad land, which is affectionately called “The Hill,” is a story and half home in a mixture of styles.

Through the years they have added on, ultimately doubling the size of the house. Two front porches, and a back yard with a pergola, pool, and play spaces make the home most livable.

Ben has his “man den” which is a sportsman space, while Sharon, who loves antiques and the vintage shabby chic look, has a large sunroom that they use for entertaining and for grandkids.

Ben graduated from Caldwell High School, as did their sons Bradley and Cody. Sharon graduated from Somerville, where her parents Harvey and Erna Neutzler lived.

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Home of Ben & Sharon Novosad After marrying in 1973, Ben and Sharon lived on the land in a mobile home while both of them finished college at A&M. Then in 1978, they built the story and a half home on The Hill.

It was a home and ranch that they ultimately opened to many friends of their sons. Fishing, playing sports, and hunting filled the boys’ lives, as well as some hay hauling and fence fixing Ben had them doing.

Sharon, who taught the second grade in Caldwell for 25 years, and Ben, who is CEO of Capital Farm Credit, both enjoy their home with friends, and especially with the next generation of Novosads. Brad and wife Mandy with Rachel and Luke; and Cody and wife Tammie with Holdyn, Hadleigh, and Hudson are now enjoying the Novosad’s home on The Hill.

professional directory Air Conditioning-Installation & Repair Reliant Mechanical 5 Weaver’s Refrigeration 18 Antiques Whistle Stop 19 Attorney Leighton Schubert 41 Automobile Parts-Supplies-Repairs Auto Frame & Body Works 51 Burleson County Motor Supply 23 Wilde Auto Plus 53 Auction Aggieland Auction 33 Banks Citizens State Bank 5 BarBQ Dave & Jerry’s 23 Matus BarBQ 20 Bed & Breakfast Rocking H Bed & Breakfast 49 Burleson County Events Fair Association 19 Butane/Propane Gas Service HyPoint Energy, Inc. 37 Catering D&V Events 43 Dave & Jerry’s 41 Ricky’s Catering 45 Chemicals Project Chemicals 31 Churches Church of Christ 25 First Baptist Church 23 Jubilee Christian Center 19 City/Civic/Government Offices City of Caldwell 13 City of Somerville 55 Construction C&H Building Construction, Inc. 23 RF Construction 15 McManus & Haddox 55 NEI Construction 33 Convenience Store Zip N 15 Copying & Printing Service ImageMaker 43 Dance Dream Dancers Studio 43 Dentistry Caldwell Dental Associates 2 Watson Orthodontics 54

Dozer Services H.L. Hoyack 22 J7 Service 47 S&S Dozer Service 39 Electorial Candidates Dwanye Beran 30 Julie Renken 21 Electrical Service Stevenson’s Electrical 25 Fax Service ImageMaker 43 Feed Store Homeyer Feed & Supply 37 Funeral Home Phillips & Luckey 21 Health Care Burleson St. Joseph Manor 39 Guardian Healthcare 27 Home & Auto Burleson County Motor Supply 41 Wilde Auto Plus 53 Hunting Rocking H Bed & Breakfast 49 Insurance Alford Insurance Company

7 Charlie Law 53 Jaecks Insurance 17 Livestock Commission Caldwell Livestock Commission 53 Lumber Company Woodson Lumber Company 52 Massage Therapy Healing Hands 41 Medical Hope Pregnancy Centers 51 Pest Control Armstrong Pesticide Solutions 13 Photography Doug Box Photography 8 Real Estate Double “O” Team 9 Home & Ranch Real Estate 3 Restaurants & Catering Boondocks 52 Freedom Ranch 27 Golden Chick 41 Kat’s Kitchen 9 Mad Hatters 17 Masfajitas Mexican Restaurant 47 Spiritual Retreat Cross Roads 36 Tax Preparers & Advisors Danny Koerth, CPA 50 H&R Block 55 Towing & Wrecker Service

D&S Towing Truck - Auto - Tires Burleson County Motor Supply Mitchell Tire Service Wilde Auto Plus Veterinarian Brazos Valley Mobil Vet Service Vitamins & Dietary Supplements Roots & Shoots Water Well Drilling Loehr Drilling Co., Inc. Weight Management CieAura Welding & Fabricating C&H Welding & Fabricating

5 23 33 53 49 50 45 49 19

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CHARISSE ADAMS NEAL BEARD RYAN BINGHAM JIMMY BOEDEKER BOB CLARK CAROL LYNN DAVIS WAYNE EDWARDS BILL GIENSENSCHLAG LARRY HATFIELD TAMMY KUBECKA SHARON ANN LAFFERE JOAN MAJORS JIM MARSH DR. JACK MCKEMIE DVM KATHERINE MUZNY RENITA ODSTRCIL DONNA VARNER PRESNAL MATTHEW RENNER SCARLETTE TAYLOR Phone 979.567.7871 979.567.6753 301 Hwy 21 E Caldwell, TX 77836 The contents of all articles do not represent the views of the Front Porch Magazine. The magazine claims no responsibility for the accuracy of information or content.

11

the

sky falling is

by donna varner presnal

According to the Mayan Calendar, we are about one year away from THE END. December 21, 2012, is the end of a 5,125 year cycle in the Mesoamerican Long Calendar. It has been determined by some New Agers that this will be the end of the world. Thinking it really was the end, people have given away everything, making extravagant plans to leave this amazing earth. However, their obvious lack of credibility makes me a little leery of putting my faith in this supposition.

There could be some viable reasons, other than a prior knowledge of our fate, that the Mayans quit counting after 5,125. Maybe they just got tired of writing, or didn’t know what number would come next. It was time for human sacrifices and all that partying. Maybe they thought it would be a good joke on all of us, a reminder not to take life so seriously. Could a major catastrophe have happened ; an earthquake or an invasion?

They no longer had the time, too many war dances to learn, or inclination to continue with a calendar. Perhaps, they just stopped bothering, knowing they wouldn’t be here that long anyway. They didn’t care if it “took a village.”

If we only have a short year, would our ‘to do’ list change? Would it be different from our bucket list? From an interview at empower network.com, CaroIine, a critical care nurse, gives the top five regrets of people on their way to the golden gates.

#1- Not staying in touch with friends.

When I am watching that blazing meteor about to hit, I sure don’t want to say to

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myself, “Gee, I didn’t stay in touch with my dear buddies.”

#2 - I wish I would have let myself be happier. I guess I should let go of my ‘hit list,’ people who I might snuff if this is my last hurrah. One being the boy from elementary school, who tormented me with “Hey fat girl!” I would do away with Angelina Jolie. She’s too perfect! Who else travels and lives like the Queen of Sheba, is with the hottest movie star (other than George Clooney), and looks like she only eats lettuce? #3 - Why did I work so hard? That’s a good question, Sherlock. I wanted to be the number one teacher on the planet. I didn’t succeed, and the people I was trying to prove it to, other than myself, do not remember whether I was there at 7:00 most mornings, or whether I stayed late, or worked on weekends. Most likely they never cared that much anyway. They were busy worrying about what their uptight bosses thought about them. #4 - Why didn’t I express my feelings more? “If you get out of that chair without permission one more time, young man, you had better be on fire!” Oh, I did express that one. I wish I had said (out loud), “You really expect me to get these kids ready for a TAAKS test? Are you nuts? I’m dancing on the table just to teach them multiplication.”

#5 - Why didn’t I have the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me? In other words, why am I not in glamorous Paris, soaking in the ambience, smoking tiperellos, and drinking espresso? I still haven’t given up on that plan.

There are a few things I’ll put on my “out of time” list. Maybe I will ride in a hot air balloon, that’s an important experience, go everywhere barefoot, ditch the make-up, and burn my flopper stoppers.

I will quit plucking those strange hairs that grow on my chin. Goatees are distinguished. I can throw caution to the wind by wearing sleeveless shirts this summer.

I may even pick up a hitchhiker. One of my friend’s mom did this back in the 1940’s without any dire consequences.

She sat in the back seat, holding a gun on the nervous hitchhiker, while her mother drove. They said it worked out really well, even telling the hapless rider, “Look, we want to help you out, but we aren’t taking any chances.”

Some ideas can be risky if for some reason December 21 comes and goes.

What if I eat more junk because of the deadline, and weigh more than the exercise machine I should have used.

I would love to quit worrying about things I can’t control, like who loves or hates me, the past, and other people’s conundrums. God has a better plan, anyway.

Let’s not wait for a life threatening disease or a Mayan Calendar to free ourselves of mean people or experiences that hinder our well-being. Let’s give ourselves permission to live happily untilDonna (Varner) Presnal Retired teacher Caldwell Native (Defected to Bryan, Texas)

Florida Court Sets Atheist Holy Day! Gotta love this Judge!

You must read this...a proper decision by the courts...for a change.

FLORIDA COURT SETS ATHEIST HOLY DAY In Florida, an atheist created a case against Easter and Passover Holy days. He hired an attorney to bring a discrimination case against Christians and Jews and observances of their holy days. The argument was that it was unfair that atheists had no such recognized days.

The case was brought before a judge. After listening to the passionate presentation by the lawyer, the judge banged his gavel declaring, “Case dismissed!”

The lawyer immediately stood objecting to the ruling saying, “Your honor, How can you possibly dismiss this case? The Christians have Christmas, Easter and others. The Jews have Passover, Yom Kippur and Hanukkah, yet my client and all other atheists have no such holidays...”

The judge leaned forward in his chair saying, “But you do. Your client, counsel, is woefully ignorant.”

The lawyer said, “Your Honor, we are unaware of any special observance or holiday for atheists.”

The judge said, “The calendar says April 1st is April Fool’s Day. Psalm 14:1 states, ‘The fool says in his heart, there is no God.’ Thus, it is the opinion of this court, that, if your client says there is no God, then he is a fool. Therefore, April 1st is his day.

Court is adjourned...”

You gotta love a Judge that knows his scripture!

A Police STOP at 2 AM

An elderly man is stopped by the police around 2 a.m. and is asked where he is going at this time of night.

The man replies, “I am on my way to a lecture about alcohol abuse and the effects it has on the human body, as well as smoking and staying out late.”

The officer then asks, “Really? Who is giving that lecture at this time of night?”

Locally Owned

The man replies, “That would be my wife.”

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How Firm a Foundation Jim Marsh is a retired Professor Emeritus in Construction Science from Texas A&M University, and a retired Professional Engineer with 50 years of practice in the local area.

This verse, “How Firm a Foundation,” is

from an early church hymn and usually refers to one’s faith in the Almighty; however, in this case it well applies to the structural system supporting any building resting upon the earth below. The Latin name for the earth is “Terra Firma” and can be jokingly translated as the “more firma the less terror.”

The soil in the earth is composed of all types of materials from clays, silts, sands, rocks, gravel…including combinations with all manner of organic materials. The grain size of the soil material is very important in its behavior towards its ability to retain or pass moisture. Sands, gravel, etc., have rather large grain size—even blow sand has larger grain sizes compared to clays. The grain sizes of clays are microscopic. Grainy soils freely pass moisture while clays will not (this is the reason why stock tanks with clay bottoms hold water).

Sands and sandy-type soils do not change volume with moisture changes while most clay soils do and herein is the problem. Texas and a large portion of the Southern U.S. contain clay-type soils that are highly expensivethis means that the soil volume will vary depending upon the moisture of the soil. While clay soils are strong in supporting loads, their volume changes with moisture so they “shrink and swell.”

The shrink/swell phenomena and evaporative changes are usually associated with seasonal moisture changes and produce changes in soil whose volume varies dramatically with the changes. Soil experts generally accept the depth of sixteen foot as a constant moisture depth, so if you are in a clay-type soil, the soil volume is probably changing from that depth.

Not all clay soils expand the same amount with the same moisture change, so a foundation resting upon clay type soils may be subject to varying support conditions.

As a general rule, foundations do not settle, unless they have been built upon poorly com-

pacted soils. Rather, they change elevations subject to the moisture changes in the supporting soils. This leads to differential floor elevations where the lower side is said to have “settled.” The real fact may be that the higher side rose.

The moisture changes in expansive soils can easily lift a residential foundation, and it would probably take a seven story commercial building to have enough dead weight to overcome the lifting due to moisture changes in the soil. If we could build foundations as rigid as a ship’s hull, then the house would rise, fall, roll, etc. without structures and we generally just build on the ground and hope the house stays together.

We have accepted several types of foundation systems as practical for varying regions of the country and in our area (Southern U.S.). We usually choose between slab on grade, post tension slabs, pier and beam, and structural slab on piers. Each of these has a place, limitations, and practicality. Usually, a foundation system is chosen for its durability and cost. Cost usually rules.

1. Slab on Grade-a steel reinforced monolithic concrete slab and bean foundation supported by the soil below. Probably the best system for our area. Cost can vary to $6 - $7 per square foot for one done property.

Discussion: The weight of all the house structure (dead load) and people, and cars, is distributed to foundation where the loads are more or less spread out to concrete slab and beams below. The soil is generally able to support these lightly distributed loads.

Problems: If the foundation construction is not rigid enough, it will flex and move independently, following the volume of the soil below (which is subject to moisture changes which means that rigid wall materials will probably crack and distort—i.e., sheet rock and brick veneers).

Solutions: •Minimize the changes of soil foundation movement by replacing unstable clay soils with compacted select fills (sandy-type) usually 3’ to 4’ deep in heavy clay soil area.

•Make the concrete foundation stiff, this means deep exterior beams and deep interior beans usually in a grid (waffle type 10’-12’ on centers) with a minimum depth of beams 32” -36”.

•Raise the entire foundation at least 12: higher than any existing ground for a distance of 20’ so that no rain water will pond on any side.

2. Post Tension-a concrete foundation system resting on the soil for support where the concrete slab and beam is pre-compressed (i.e. squeezed together by internal steel cables). The reasons for this are several: •Concrete is week in tension, strong in compression.

•If you can put enough pre-compression (squeeze) into the system, it will overcome the tension forces and the concrete can’t break.

(A crack can only occur with tension---think about it.

Problem: You usually don’t get real stiff foundations with this system and get a lot of veneer and wall cracks. (It’s usually promoted as being cheaper.)

3. Pier &Beam- a floor system where floor loads are transferred to beams which then are supported by piers or columns. These piers or columns must be supported by footings which then transfer all loads to the supporting soils below. This was the traditional manner of floor construction with wooden floor systems. The beams (sills) piers and the entire floor system are free from the soil. If properly done, this is still a good system but is more popular with lighter and small structures because of cost.It’s hard to keep this system rigid.

4. Structural Slabs on Piers- a reinforced concrete slab and beam system where the concrete slabs and beams are supported entirely by deep piers. The floor is not on the soil but is separated by voids which allow soil to expand and in theory not touch the slab or beams, allowing designed floors for gravity loads that always act downward, ignoring volume changes that occur in supporting soils.

Discussion: The Cadillac of the line-very expensive for residential construction.

In any of the foundation systems, the following is necessary: •The floor system should be at least 1’ higher (or more) above the surrounding area, All water drainage should be away from the structure on all sides for 10’ or so. Do not trap moisture against the foundation by sidewalks, flower bed walls, etc. Check regularly for broken water or drain pipes. Plumbing lines are buried in the soils, and are subject to stress from soil movements. Gutter down spouts should discharge at least 4’-6’ out from the foundation so water will drain away from foundations. Tree roots near a foundation can cause serious uplifting by some trees. Oak trees’ roots may take 100’s of gallons of water daily from the soil. Keep trees 10’-12’ away from any foundations. Use common sense.

Foundation areas with more soil moisture than the rest are a potential problem. Moisture is moisture whatever the source.

Chuckles, Giggles & Snickers A Police STOP at 2 AM

An elderly man is stopped by the police around 2 a.m. and is asked where he is going at this time of night.

The man replies, “I am on my way to a lecture about alcohol abuse and the effects it has on the human body, as well as smoking and staying out late.”

The officer then asks, “Really? Who is giving that lecture at this time of night?”

The man replies, “That would be my wife.”

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May I…, Excuse Me, Please…Let me help you with that… .

Whether you live and drive in Small Town, Texas, or maneuver the hurried, harried streets and life endeavors of Big City, Texas, New York, or Florida, are you beyond a shadow of a doubt aware that there is now a difference in manners of people, or the lack thereof?

We small town people want to think that we are more considerate, more aware of people around us, and most always ready to be helpful, or at least, acknowledge that the person we confront is a human being with feelings and thoughts, and possibly worthy of some of our time.

But, think about it. Wherever you carry on life’s endeavors, do you see too much rudeness? Are you experiencing it when you’re driving your car, or even parking it? Do you feel those you are in conversation with are actively involved and are really listening? When you are in line at the local store, do you find yourself involved in a dash to get to the check-out?

What I’m getting at is: Are we Americans in general too rude, too lacking in compassion and caring for others around us? In other words, are we just plain ole self-centered? Where are our manners? Does the consideration of being rude enter our minds? Do you think that if we would consider our rudeness, we’d find we’re ruder than we’ve been aware of?

We may want to blame all of this rudeness on the young; the young are more at fault, seemingly. Surely, the younger generation exudes rudeness with their I- phones, their I-pads, their instant internet, their Kindle Fires, etc! And, truly, we could make a case, or myriad cases, as a matter of fact, against them.

We’ve watched them sit in restaurants oblivious to those around them as they’ve sent texts back and forth.

But, adults, what about us? How are we doing? Are we as involved in the fast, the instant way of life, as the younger generation? I’d wager that we could be found guilty on several counts, if we’d evaluate our daily “adult” actions.

In a recent magazine article, a writer stated, “We have lots of excuses for being rude but no reasons.” I would have to agree with him.

Our excuses are numerous. But the rudeness is unworthy and should be lacking in a people who in general have so much, in spite of our current economic circumstances. We, the people of

America, should recognize the worth of others, and just treat them with respect.

Do you remember when your parents demanded, “Don’t give me any excuses. Tell me what happened.” I think that shoe fits here, don’t you?

One of the main excuses we cry foul about is being busy.

We feel that our time is so limited, and so it is, but we think it’s so valuable because we have sooo much to do, as if the other person doesn’t. And when we get to the heart of why we are rude, busyness has to be near the top of the excuses list.

But, busyness isn’t the only cause for rampant rudeness.

Can we parents of today be honest, and face the fact that we have missed the boat, have fallen short on teaching politeness, kindness, the social graces of asking pardon, and even looking someone in the eye? We have to accept some of the responsibility, don’t we? In earlier generations, especially in the South, “Yes, mam,” “Thank you,” and “Please,” or “Excuse me” were basic beginning expressions. Little ones said, “Tank ooo,” when given something. Can we get back to basic civility today? I believe we can.

I truly believe we can become a more mannerly people, but it will be a great task. It will require some changes. It will not happen, however, if we allow our children, and ourselves as well, to be bombarded by the rudeness, not to speak of crudeness, of TV shows and movies that flaunt back biting and hostile words, as if they are showing the way to live. Children truly live what they watch, whether on TV, movies, or in the home. Children are not mentally capable of discerning what’s supposed to be entertaining, and not exemplary. They can’t differentiate. We must help them by limiting what they watch, and helping them with positive feed-back and consistent enforcement of good, helpful viewing, which can lead to good manners.

A third blarring excuse for rudeness is apathy, just plain ole’ not caring. Of course, not all people fit this profile, but too many do. Today, we often hear, “I just don’t care…it doesn’t hurt me,” “They can just get over it.

It’s their problem.” These words too often come from old and young alike. Wonder where the young have learned this attitude?

So, in this age of fast everything, a little fast “Excuse me,” “Thank you,” “Am I in your way?” “Let me get that door for you,” or “How are you today?” will help. Help who, you might ask. It will help you, me, everyone. Have you realized lately how great it feels to put others first, to acknowledge others? To put ole’ number one behind someone else? And, in your exemplifying manners, who do you think will be influenced?

You go it…old and young alike are influenced, and you, and they, can become the catalyst back to manners.

WE HAVE LOTS OF EXCUSES FOR BEING RUDE...

BUT NO REASONS.

Chuckles, Giggles & Snickers

A Texan dies and goes to hell. While down there the devil notices that the Texan is not suffering like the rest. He checks the gauges and sees that it's 100 degrees and about 80% humidity. So he goes over to the Texan and asks why he's so happy. The Texan says, "I really like it here. The temperature is just like Dallas in June."

The devil isn't happy with the Texan's answer and decides to fix him, so he goes over and turns up the thermostat to 120 degrees and the humidity to 90%. After turning everything up he goes looking for the Texan. He finds him standing around unbuttoning his shirt, just as happy as can be. The devil quizzes the Texan again as to why he's so happy. The Texan says, "This is even better. It's like Houston in July."

The devil, now really upset, decides to make the Texan really understand that hell is no paradise. He walks over to the controls and turns the heat up to 140 degrees and the humidity to 100%. "Now let's see what the Texan is up to," he thinks. So he goes looking for the Texan. The devil finds the Texan taking his shirt off basking in the heat, even happier than before. The devil can't figure it out. He asks the Texan why he's happy now. The Texan replies, "This is great, it's just like Brownsville in August."

The devil says, "That's it, I'll get this guy." He walks over and turns the temperature down to a freezing 25 degrees below zero. "Now let's see what the Texan has to say about this," the devil thinks to himself. He looks around and finds the Texan jumping up and down for joy. "What are you so happy about now," asks the devil. Still excited, the Texan replies, "The Rangers have finally won the World Series!"

Son in Prison.

An old man lived alone in Ireland. He wanted to dig his potato garden, but it was very hard work.

His only son, who would have helped him, was in prison for bank robbery.

The old man wrote a letter to his son and mentioned his predicament.

Shortly, he received this reply,

“For HEAVEN‘S SAKE Dad, don‘t dig up that garden, that‘s where I buried the Money!“

At 4 A.M. the next morning, a dozen policemen showed up and dug up the entire garden, without finding any money.

Confused, the old man wrote another note to his son telling him what happened, and asking him what to do next.

His son‘s reply was: “Now plant your potatoes, Dad. It‘s the best I could do from here.“

Today is yesterday’s pupil.

Ben Franklin

Letter to the Editor

Sandi & Scarlette...

I just thought I’d let you know how much I enjoy the Front Porch...

And I even send my family back in England each edition.

The Front Porch is enjoyed here and across the ocean.

Thank You...

Tada, Jacque Bray

17

Silencing Men

on

Abortion

At Hope Pregnancy Center, we seek to inform each man who comes with his female partner about the risks and effects of abortion, not only on his partner, but also on him, and on his relationship with his partner, their child, and possibly their future children.

We encourage each of these men to seek the long-term health and wellness of their families, not just for a short-term fix to a crisis that our culture tells them they have no say in.

A pro-abortion advocate recently posted this on her blog: “I want to silence all the male voices in the abortion discussion,” She explains that she wants to silence not just pro-life men, but that she even wants her pro-choice, feminist boyfriend to shut-up, and she goes on to explain why. You almost laugh until you realize the sad truth that she will not have to work very hard to reach her goal.

An explanation to why it will not be hard to reach her goal follows: On the day a woman was scheduled to obtain an abortion, she was given a survey. She, along with several thousand women at that time, received a survey that gathered information as to why she was choosing to abort her child.

Almost half, 48%, of the women in the study cited relational difficulties with their male partners as reason for choosing to abort. They felt a lack of support from their male counterparts, often communicating that it was the men who were pressuring them to have an abortion.

Other reasons given were that the men had broken off communication with them after they had learned of the pregnancy, i.e., they became silent, or that the relationship was still new and a pregnancy would only complicate matters. Clearly, men play a role in a women’s decision to have an abortion…at least for about half of women.

However, this study becomes even more interesting when it reveals what was the most cited reason for a woman seeking an abortion. By far, the most popular reason stated was, “I can’t afford a baby right now.” (given by 73% of all women surveyed.) The reason makes sense---babies are expensive, not to mention the cost of a pregnancy.

But why is it that these women are feeling so much financial pressure? The anecdotal comments given by study’s re-

spondents reveal much. Parts of two comments quoted from women responding to the survey follow: (from a 19 year old, with 3 children) “I am on my own, and financially and mentally I can’t stand it now…” (from a 22 year old) “the guy I was living with was, you know, doing good as far as helping me, but he just went to jail…I am alone with 3 kids, and they are all I have.”

What is the cause of these financial troubles? Is it not the mother’s relationship with the father of their child? Is it not because the father of their child isn’t supporting his family the way he ought? Or were women always expected to care for their children alone? The answer is a definitive “No!” Ask any single parent. Children are not meant to be raised by one person, that’s why it takes two to get pregnant! If we want to see the abortion rate decline, we need to encourage men, not to remain silent and run away, but to speak up and take responsibility for their families.

The irony of our pro-choice blogger friend is that silencing men will only increase the abortion rate. Men are silent enough already on the issue of abortion.

Silent men don’t stand up for their unborn children.

Silent men don’t speak lovingly to the mother of their children.

Silent men don’t provide the resources for their partners to choose anything but abortion.

If you’d like to be a part of encouraging men to step up and speak up in support of their partners and unborn children, call Ryan at 979.695.9193 or email ryan@hopepregnancy.org. To read our pro-choice friend’s blog, visit: http://abortiongang. org/2012/02/silencing-men/ or to read the full study, visit http://www.guttmacher.org/pubs/journals/3711005.html

by Ryan Bingham, Education & Outreach Coordinator Hope Pregnancy Center

Little Known Facts EIGHT PRESIDENTS were born British subjects: Washington, J. Adams, Jefferson, Madison, Monroe, J.Q. Adams, Jackson, and W. Harrison.

THE OLDEST president inaugurated was Reagan (age 69); the youngest was Kennedy (age 43). Theodore Roosevelt, however, was the youngest man to become president - he was 42 when he succeeded McKinley, who had been assassinated.

VICE PRESIDENTS were originally the presidential candidates receiving the second-largest number of electoral votes. The Twelfth Amendment, passed in 1804, changed the system so that the electoral college voted separately for president and vice president. The presidential candidate, however, gradually gained power over the nominating convention to choose his own running mate.

FOR TWO YEARS the nation was run by a president and a vice president who were not elected by the people.

After Vice President Spiro T. Agnew resigned in 1973, President Nixon appointed Gerald Ford as vice president.

Nixon resigned the following year, which left Ford as president, and Ford’s appointed vice president, Nelson Rockefeller, as second in line.

THE TERM “First Lady” was used first in 1849 when President Zachary Taylor called Dolley Madison “First Lady” at her state funeral. It gained popularity in 1877 when used in reference to Lucy Ware Webb Hayes. Most First Ladies, including Jackie Kennedy, are said to have hated the label.

PRESIDENTS LINCOLN, Garfield, McKinley, and Kennedy were assassinated in office.

EIGHT PRESIDENTS died in office: W. Harrison (after having served only one month), Taylor, Lincoln, Garfield, McKinley, Harding, F. Roosevelt, and Kennedy.

KENNEDY AND TAFT are the only presidents buried in Arlington National Cemetery.

LINCOLN, JEFFERSON, F. Roosevelt, Washington, Kennedy and Eisenhower are portrayed on U.S. coins.

BARACK OBAMA is our 44th president, but there actually have only been 43 presidents: Cleveland was elected for two nonconsecutive terms and is counted twice, as our 22nd and 24th president.

19

Nanny’s Silver Swing

By Carol Lynne King Davis

AWAY we zoomed in our wooden chariot!

Climbing higher and plunging back down, we thumped our feet on the scuffed gray floor of our grandmother’s front porch as the old silver swing carried us upward once more.

Our toes almost touched the chipped peeled paint of the ceiling that once upon a time boasted the coat of a bright ‘sky-blue.’

To the rhythm of creaking rusty chains, we kicked our feet and sang! “This old man, he played one,” and so on, and on we sang the songs our Nanny King taught us.

Wind whistled in our ears. We were three musketeers.

One at a time-we rocketed-from the faded silver swing.

Speeding past a pair of red wasps at rest on their paper nest that was attached to an eave of the porch rafters, I plummeted, landing hard on the porch surface. I decided to take a break.

Cheery visitors sailed in and landed on emerald grass and chirped and splashed at the ‘robin egg’s blue’ stone birdbath. As our feathery friends flew away, we rinsed our fingertips in the swirling and sparkling water of the basin and sprinkled each other with the diamond-like drops.

A chase! It led us into Nanny’s Iris Garden. Rainbows of blue,yellow and purple grew. Amid sword-shaped leaves, we sat and inhaled a fragrant perfume.

I thought of the story Nanny told us about Iris, the Greek goddess. I envisioned the fairy-tale personage who flew on golden wings as she traveled the path of the rainbow with her husband, Zephyrus, the West Wind.

A breeze blew our way bringing a yellow-winged butterfly that fluttered to the edge of the wood; we followed. Tendrils of twisting honeysuckle vines covered the hedge with their trumpet-like petals.

Inside the flowerets’ coral center, secret treats lay hidden. We began to pull the threadlike strands and sipped upon golden honey–dew drops.

Our noses caught whiffs of sweet aroma coming from overfilled baskets of fresh-

20

ripe fruit. On the end of the long frontporch at a sturdy table, Nanny and Aunt Holly were busy peeling Elberta Peaches.

We each grabbed a scarlet-colored peach and skittered around to the outside faucet to rub off the fuzziness under clearrunning water. I took a big bite from the luscious-looking fruit; then, I just let the juice trickle down my chin.

I saw Uncle Joe coming. He was grasping a metal hook which latched onto a large rectangular shape of shining ice. I could see my reflection in it. He chipped the block of ice in a round, tin tub using a sharp ice pick.

Meanwhile, Nanny King mixed up her concoction of home-made ice-cream utilizing fresh cow’s milk that had real thick cream on top. She broke brown-speckled eggs she retrieved from the henhouse. The entire confection was poured into the old rustic wooden freezer that had an old-fashioned crank for a handle.

Then we little ones got to help by taking turns weighting down the machine. I remember sitting atop the old-timey contraption perched on a folded patchwork quilt, Nanny’s stitches of squares, flowers, solids and stripes.

Ice and gritty salt crunched as the older boys cranked the handle. Glistening specks of ice and salt scattered everywhere. I bit into a

glittering rock. Too salty! I crinkled my nose and spat it out. But the ice, I let melt in my mouth.

When the batch was done, we three musketeers lazed upon goose-feather cushions listening to the adult’s joke as laughter filled the air and we ate our cold ice-cream.

We nestled near our Nanny King’s protective arms under the lingering limbs of the chinaberry tree which hovered above us.

That age-old tree, exuberantly, alive, still sways with the wind, dancing to the tune of a singing silver swing that rocks on the porch of a house now empty.

The Difference Is… Author Unknown…submitted by Ruth Molenda

There is very little difference in people, says Clement Stone, but that difference makes a big difference. The little difference is attitude.

The big difference is whether it is positive or negative.

Nowhere is this principal better illustrated than in the story of the young bride from the East who, during the war, followed her husband to Army camp on the edge of the desert in California. Living conditions were primitive at best, and he advised against it, but she wanted to be with him.

The only housing they could find was a run-down shack near an Indian village. The heat was unbearable in the daytime, 115 degrees in the shade. The wind blew constantly, spreading dust and sand all over everything. The days were long and boring. Her only neighbors were the Indians, none of whom spoke English.

When her husband was ordered farther into the desert for two weeks of maneuvers, loneliness and the wretched living conditions got the best of her. She wrote to her mother that she just couldn’t take any more. In a short time, she received a reply that included these two lines:

TWO MEN LOOKED OUT FROM PRISON BARS ONE SAW MUD, THE OTHER SAW STARS

She read the lines over and over and began to feel ashamed of herself. And she really didn’t want to leave her husband. All right, she’d

look for the stars!

In the following days, she set out to make friends with the Indians.

Se asked them to teach her weaving and pottery. At first, they were distant, but as soon as they sensed her interest was genuine, they returned her friendship. She became fascinated with their culture, history…everything about them.

She began to study the desert as well, and soon it, too, changed from a desolate, forbidding place to a marvelous thing of beauty. She had her mother send books, and she studied the forms of the cacti, the yuccas and the Joshua trees.

She collected seashells that had been left there millions of years ago when the sands had been an ocean floor. Later, she became such an expert on the area that she wrote a book about it.

What had changed? Not the desert; not the Indians. Simply by changing her own attitude, she had transformed a miserable experience into a highly rewarding one.

43

The following will help to prepare your for Friday’s nonsensical jobs data.

COSTELLO: I want to talk about the unemployment rate in America.

COSTELLO: So if you're off the unemployment roles, that would count as less unemployment?

ABBOTT: Good Subject. Terrible Times. It's 9%.

ABBOTT: Unemployment would go down. Absolutely!

COSTELLO: That many people are out of work?

COSTELLO: The unemployment just goes down because you don't look for work?

ABBOTT: No, that's 16%.

COSTELLO: You just said 9%.

ABBOTT: 9% Unemployed.

COSTELLO: Right 9% out of work.

ABBOTT: No, that's 16%.

ABBOTT: Absolutely it goes down. That's how you get to 9%.

Otherwise, it would be 16%. You don't want to read about 16% unemployment do ya?

COSTELLO: That would be frightening.

ABBOTT: Absolutely.

COSTELLO: Okay, so it's 16% unemployed.

COSTELLO: Wait, I got a question for you. That means there are two ways to bring down the unemployment number?

ABBOTT: No, that's 9%...

ABBOTT: Two ways is correct.

COSTELLO: WAIT A MINUTE. Is it 9% or 16%?

COSTELLO: Unemployment can go down if someone gets a job?

ABBOTT: 9% are unemployed.

16% are out of work.

ABBOTT: Correct.

COSTELLO: IF you are out of work you are unemployed.

ABBOTT: No, you can't count the "Out of Work" as the unemployed.

You have to look for work to be unemployed.

COSTELLO: BUT THEY ARE OUT OF WORK!!!

ABBOTT: No, you miss my point.

COSTELLO: And unemployment can also go down if you stop looking for a job?

ABBOTT: Bingo.

COSTELLO: So there are two ways to bring unemployment down, and the easier of the two is to just stop looking for work.

ABBOTT: Now you're thinking like an economist.

COSTELLO: What point?

COSTELLO: I don't even know what the hell I just said!

ABBOTT: Someone who doesn't look for work can't be counted with those who look for work. It wouldn't be fair.

And now you know why unemployment figures are improving!

COSTELLO: To whom?

ABBOTT: The unemployed.

COSTELLO: But they are ALL out of work.

ABBOTT: No, the unemployed are actively looking for work...

Those who are out of work stopped looking. They gave up. And, if you give up, you are no longer in the ranks of the unemployed.

22

FAITH & FRIENDS

by Sharon Ann Laffere

W

e receive as much as we give in life. Witnessing the heartache, compassion, and healing in the world today, this is clearly evident.

Goodhearted, hardworking people are experiencing difficult times, losing their jobs and their homes because of the current economy. They find hope and strength with the help of family, friends, and caring organizations. Then, they pass that hope on to someone else in need. Their stories of resilience inspire.

A single mother of two lost her job, but she firmly believes that her children’s future will be promising. She is teaching her daughters to lend a helping hand to neighbors in need.

A father of four faced company downsizing, so he started his own business. He donates a portion of his proceeds to charity.

A bereft widower lost his job and his home during a bout of depression. He pulls out a tattered book and says, “The only thing I have left is this Bible. I lost it all, but I found God. In some ways, I feel like the richest man alive.�

There is much to learn from those who refuse to dwell on hardship. Instead, they see an opportunity to help others.

When we give a little of our time and resources, we receive valuable life lessons about faith, humanity, and gratitude. With only a small gesture, together, we can make a huge difference.

Anything is possible with faith and friends.

Hunger is a serious concern in the world today. Caring organizations and churches help to provide nourishment for families in need. For local assistance, contact the Community Kitchen at (979) 567-4286. For more information about helping to abolish hunger in America, please visit: www.feedingamerica.org For more information about helping to eliminate hunger worldwide, please visit: www.stophungernow.org "Oh, boy! I'm glad you're here," the little boy said to his grandmother on his mother's side.

"Why?" she asked.

"Because now Daddy will do the trick he's been promising us."

"What trick?"

"Well, he told Mommy that if you came to visit, he would climb the walls."

23

DON’T CHANGE TEACHER RETIREMENT

Please Help Your Teachers, School Personnel, and Retirees

Since 1937, all Texas teachers and school personnel have participated in a secure Defined Benefit retirement plan. The Texas Legislature created the Teacher Retirement System to collect, manage, invest, and distribute a pension to retired teachers and school personnel.

Over the years, these funds have been invested in a wide array of ventures by expert investors. The fund has grown into the 23rd largest trust fund in the world, and is the second largest return-seeking operation in Texas.

Your teachers’ trust fund (which is only 3% of the Texas total budget) is under attack! Political groups are currently lobbying state legislators to alter your teacher’s Defined Benefit pension.

Your teachers need your help!

Bill King, a Houston lawyer and columnist for the Houston Chronicle, the Texas Public Policy Foundation from Austin, and other special interest groups are already lobbying legislators to change the type of pension your school personnel have now from a Defined Benefit pension to a Defined Contribution.

24

Defined Benefit pension is an investment in retirement made by both the teachers and the state. Highly trained investment professionals invest the money that is contributed to the fund. When a teacher retires, the pension is calculated on the teacher’s best 3 years salary and a formula set by the legislature. The teacher receives that pension until the day he/she dies. The spouse may continue to receive the pension until he/she dies.

from TRS.

A Defined Contribution plan shifts investments by members into a system like private sector 401(k)s . The private sector model is based on individual commissions and personal profit for investment management. Private sector 401 (k) plans are unable to provide the level of services, professional management, pooling of resources, and delivery of benefits like the TRS pension does.

The federal government provides Americans some retirement security with Social Security. 80% of the schools in Texas do not participate in Social Security. This saves Texas taxpayers billions of dollars when teachers and school personnel participate in their Defined Benefit plan.

Some Real Facts Texas Retirement System invests millions of dollars in the economy of Texas. The TRS fund is directly responsible for creating some 90,000 jobs in Texas.

The TRS fund serves 1.3 million public school and state university active and retired personnel. One out of every 20 Texans either pays into or receives a benefit

TRS has one of the nation’s most recognized professional money management teams.

In 2011, the TRS fund earned 15.5%. Over the last 25 years and through some of the worst economic downturns the fund’s overall rate of return is 9.2%. A 401 k plan could never make this rate of return.

Retired teachers and school personnel, and family and friends of teachers and school personnel, it is imperative that many voices be heard about keeping the Texas Retirement System as it is. To help, you can write your Burleson County Senator Steve Ogden at PO Box 12068, Austin, TX 78711 or call him at 512.463.0105, and you can write Representative Tim Kleinschmidt at PO Box 2910, Austin, TX 78768, or call him at 512.463.0682. Don’t delay.

To Ticket or Not To Ticket?

by Wayne Edwards

Native Texan and retired Air Force officer, Wayne Edwards, writes of his woes as a young officer. You can visit his website at www.familypoet.com.

My first assignment, as a young Air Force captain, was as the Chief of Security and Law Enforcement at James Connally Air Force Base in Waco, Texas. I was a stickler for enforcing base traffic regulations and vigorously backed my patrolmen on every ticket they wrote. As a result, I was especially exasperated when the base commander would call and instruct me to give a certain officer a break due to the unusual requirements of his job. My men would continue to write the Base Civil Engineer parking tickets and tickets for leaving the keys in the ignition of his unattended automobile; the Base Commander would continue to call and instruct me to “take care” of the tickets.

The Base Civil Engineer, a major, drove a vintage Volkswagen Bug and, as the Base Fire Chief, he felt that he had, not only the privilege but, the sworn duty to park wherever he pleased on base.

We had recently had a series of automobile thefts on base, as a result of drivers negligently leaving their keys in the ignition of their vehicles when they left them unattended. To eliminate this black mark from the Theft and Recovery portion of my yearly law enforcement reports, I instructed my patrolmen to be especially vigilant for this infraction. The Major was a frequent violator.

One morning, arriving early for the Monday morning staff meeting, I was quite irritated to find the Major’s vintage Volkswagen Bug, with keys in the ignition, parked in the Base Commander’s parking space. It was too much for a young captain to bear. I called the security police desk and requested that a patrol meet me at the base dump which was located on the back side of the base. I drove the vintage Volkswagen bug there, parked it in a prominent location, and put a parking ticket on the windshield. I then had the patrol take me back to Base Headquarters in time to take my seat, just as the staff meeting started. My assigned seat, as the Base Chief of Security and Law Enforcement, was next to the Base Civil Engineer. As I sat down, the major handed me a note: “You don’t have to worry about my Volkswagen anymore. I sold it to the Base Commander.”

Needless to say, I missed the rest of the Monday morning staff meeting.

When I worked for an organization which delivered meals to the elderly, I would take along my four year old daughter.

She was always fascinated by the appliances of old age - canes, walkers, wheelchairs, etc. One day I saw her staring at a set of false teeth in a jar. She said to me, "The tooth fairy will never believe this."

25

Hog dogs and wild hogs

were everywhere as contestants checked in their quarries during the second annual Boars of Texas Hog Hunting Competition held in Caldwell, Texas. Curious onlookers lined the area surrounding one of the fairground pavilions in order to get a better look at all of the wild hogs as they were being weighed; each trying to see how close they could guess every sizable boar or sow as volunteers heaved the beasts onto the scales. 135 contestants, making up 34 teams from all over the state, competed with the hopes of taking home their share of $10,000 in cash and prizes up for grabs this year. Hunters took to the woods at 5:00 PM Friday, January 27th, packing as much hunting into the weekend as possible, attempting to return to the Burleson County Fairgrounds on Sunday, January 29th, by 12:00 noon. Twenty-two teams were able to make it back within the official cut-off time, weighing in a staggering 23,800 pounds of qualifying field-dressed, iced down, wild hog. However impressive this total seems, many more are killed over the course of this two-day event, never making it to the scales. Some are either under the fifty pound minimum qualifying field-dressed weight, misplaced in the may lay of hunting, or simply not able to be retrieved in the allotted times. Teams may just choose not to compete in the largest stringer portion of the contest, bringing in only their top five hogs in an attempt to take their overall division.

These hunters kill hundreds of hogs during each competition held throughout the state every year and produce exceptional totals in each one. Given the extreme reproduction rate of feral hogs, it is unthinkable the number of inhabitants Texas would have if not for the efforts of these houndsmen and their dogs. When the competitions are over and the crowds subside, they are still in the woods, cornfields, and swamps day in and day out, in the best and worst of conditions imaginable, in pursuit of these animals simply because they love to do it. Though no single method of control is a panacea, each plays a vital role and is extremely important to the overall battle against the unrelenting populations threatening Texas’ agribusiness, native wildlife populations, and their habitat every year.

This year’s winners in the Gun and Knife Division are as follows: 1st Place, going to team Ramsey Ranch (Skeeter Ramsey, Patrick Matejka, Keaton Roan, Dusty Winder) from College Station, TX with a 1038 pound top five total, also taking Largest Sow with a field-dressed weight of 236 pounds; 2nd Place going to team Gun Town Tushhogs (Josh Baros, Garret Schulz, Eli Smith, Ty Brozozwski) from Victoria, TX with a 1002 pound top five total, also taking Largest Boar with a field-dressed weight of 241 pounds; 3rd Place going to team Bar W Ranch (Charlie Williamson, Justin Jones, Austin Rayborn, Leo Gonzales) from Wheelock, TX with a 971 pound top five total; Largest Stringer went to team K Bar Hog Hunters (Kevin Muzny, Robert Campbell, Cody Praesel, Travis Muzny) from Caldwell, TX with 25 head checked in. In the Gun and Dog Division, with a clean sweep, team No Limit Hoggers (Cody Wade, Charles Wade, Otis English, Steve Conley) from Trinity, TX took their overall division with a 697 pound top five total, Largest Stringer with five head checked in, Largest Boar at 150 pounds field-dressed, and Largest Sow at 180 pounds field-dressed.

On top of cash prizes, teams took home dog food donated by Outlaw Feed of Temple, TX and Homeyer Feed of Caldwell, TX. In addition to those two, thanks should also be given to the volunteers who worked so hard wrestling all of those wild hogs onto and off of the scales, Christine Garbs for event photography, the Burleson County Fair Association, the Brazos County 4H and Dusty Title, the Burleson County Wildlife Association, the organizations and individuals who saw to it that a majority of these feral hogs were utilized, the Burleson County Chamber of Commerce, the Deanville Fire Department, International Verification Services, and all of the hunters who come together every year making this event possible. For more information on the Boars of Texas Hog Hunting Competition, check out www.BoarsofTexas.com, or if interested in becoming a sponsor, email Matthew Renner through BoarsofTexas@yahoo.com. (All photos contained herein, courtesy of Christine Garbs).

by Matthew Renner

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Chuckles, Giggles & Snickers THE MAMA TEST I was out walking with my 4-year-old daughter. She picked up something off of the ground and started to put it in her mouth. I took the item away from her and I asked her not to do that. ‘Why?’ my daughter asked. ‘Because it’s been on the ground; you don’t know where it’s been, it’s dirty, and probably has germs,’ I replied. At this point, my daughter looked at me with total admiration and asked,

‘Mama, how do you know all this stuff? You are so smart.’

I was thinking quickly and replied, ‘All moms know this stuff. It’s on the Mama Test. You have to know it, or they don’t let you be a Mama.’ We walked along in silence for 2 or 3 minutes, but she was evidently pondering this new information. ‘Oh…..I get it!’ she beamed, ‘So if you don’t pass the test you have to be the dad..’ ‘Exactly,’ I replied.

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THE IMPORTANCE OF ONE

Whether One Person, One Meeting, or One Vote, the Individual is Always Important

I

n a nation the size of the United States, where well over one hundred million votes are cast in a national election, it is easy for one person to feel that his or her single vote doesn’t really matter.

Even in rural Burleson County, with maybe eight thousand votes to be cast, it is possible for one to think “my vote doesn’t count.” What follows is a narrative that will show that one person’s participation can and often does make a big, big difference.

In 1796, George Washington, the first president, was retiring. The Electoral College had elected him twice, by unanimous vote, and now the country was beginning to divide into two opposing parties that had two very different visions as to what they wanted America to be. One group, called the Federalists supported Vice President John Adams, and favored mercantile and business interests. Another faction, called Democratic Republicans supported Thomas Jefferson and wanted an agrarian Republic run by “yeoman farmers.” Adams was accused of wanting a monarchy, and of wanting to be that king.

His supporters said Jefferson was an atheist. Negative campaigning started early and has been part of American politics ever since. When the electors, who were independent at the time, voted, Adams won by one vote---71 to 70. So even if that one voter was a political insider, one man’s choice mattered.

The 1880 election between Republican James A. Garfield and Democrat Winfield Scott Hancock produced one of the closest popular votes ever recorded. Garfield led Hancock in the nationwide popular vote by only 9,464 votes, far less than one vote per voting precinct, and translating into an electoral vote of 214 to 155, with 185 needed to elect. Had 10,517 voters in New York (about two per precinct) voted differently, this would have switched New York’s 35 electoral votes from Garfield to Hancock and made Hancock the President by an electoral margin of 190 to 179.

In 1916, an intentional (or accidental) snub probably cost Republican Supreme Court Justice Charles Evans Hughes the presidency and kept Democrat Woodrow Wilson in the White House for a second term. Hughes was in a San Francisco hotel for a political event late in the campaign. The governor of California was the popular Hiram Johnson who was running for the US Senate in the same election. Johnson was at the same hotel as Hughes at the same hour for a different meeting. For some reason, the two were never brought together for a chat; Johnson took it as a personal affront, and withdrew

by Bill Giensenschlag

his support of Hughes. Hughes went on to lose the state by 3,806 votes and the electoral vote to Wilson by 277 to 254.

Had Hughes carried California, he would have defeated Wilson 267 to 264 and become President. The “forgotten handshake” in the San Francisco made all the difference.

The 2000 election between Democrat Al Gore and Republican George W. Bush set all kinds of records for being close, rancorous, and (almost) endlessly contested.

The electoral majority needed for a choice was 270 votes.

It all came down to Florida, where paper punch cards were used for ballots, which were then counted by computers.

But what if, in the presidential race, a hole was not punched all the way through the card, and a small paper “chad” was left hanging at that spot? Was this a legal vote?

What if the chad still hung by one corner? Or two? Or even three? What constituted a lawful vote? And for Whom?

These questions resonated for weeks in the Florida state courts and were finally settled by the Supreme Court of the United State in favor of Bush, who, they ruled, had carried the state and its 25 electoral votes by a mere 523 popular votes statewide. This allowed Bush to win the electoral vote by a margin of 270 to 268. Imagine the recriminations among Gore campaign workers! What if they had managed to get one more voter to the polls in about a quarter of Florida’s election precincts. The statewide and nationwide outcomes would have been very different. Even so, the Florida results would not have mattered and the long-drawn controversy there would not have taken place if Gore had been able to gather 270 votes somewhere else. If he had just carried his home state of Tennessee!

Bill Giensenschlag, Burleson County native and graduate of Texas A&M University, taught American history and government San Antonio & Blinn Colleges for 35 years. He raises cattle on the family ranch near Snook, and is active in local church, civic and musical affairs.

Pocket Tazer Stun Gun A Great Gift for the Wife

Last weekend I saw something at Larry’s pistol & Pawn Shop that sparked my interest. The occasion was our 15th anniversary and I was looking for a little something extra for my wife Julie.

What I cam across was a 100,000-volt, pocket/purse-sized.

The effects of the Tazer were supposed to be short lived, with no long term adverse affect on our assailant, allowing her adequate time to retreat to safety...??

WAY TOO COOL! Long story short, I bought the device and brought it home...I loaded two AAA batteries in the darn thing and pushed the button. Nothing! I was disappointed. I learned, however, that if I pushed the button and pressed it against a metal surface at the same time, I’d get the blue arc of electricity darting back and forth between the prongs.

AWESOME!!! Unfortunately, I have yet to explain to Julie what that burn spot is on the face of her microwave.

Okay, so I was home alone with this new toy, thinking to myself that it couldn’t be all that bad with only two AAA battries, right?

There I sat in my recliner, my cat Gracie looking on intently (trusting little soul) while I was reading the directions and thinking that I really needed to try this thing out on a flesh & blood moving target.

I must admit I thought about zapping Gracie (for a fraction of a second) and then thought better of it. She is such a sweet cat.

But, if I was going to give this thing to my wife to protect herself against a mugger, I did want some assurance that it would work as advertised.

Am I wrong?

So, there I sat in a pair of shorts and a tank top with my reading glasses perched delicately on the bridge of my nose, direction in one hand, and Tazer in another.

The directions said that: a one-second burst would shock and disorient your assailant; a two-second burst was supposed to cause muscle spasms and major loss of bodily control; and a three-second burst would purportedly make your assailant flop on the ground like a fish out of water.

Any burst longer than three seconds would be wasting the batteries.

All the while I’m looking at this little device measuring about 5” long, less than 3/4 inch in circumference (loaded with two itsy, bitsy AAA batteries); pretty cute really, and thinking to myself, ‘no possible way!’

What happened next is almost beyond description, but I’ll do my best.

I’m sitting there alone, Gracie looking on with her head cocked to one side so as to say, ‘Don’t do it stupid,’ reasoning that

a one second burst from such a tiny lil ole thing couldn’t hurt all that bad...I decided to give myself a one second burst just for the heck of it.

I touched the prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button, and...

WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION...WHAT THE...!!!

I’m pretty sure Hulk Hogan ran in through the side door, picked me up in the recliner, then body slammed us both on the carpet, over and over and over again. I vaguely recall waking up on my side in the fetal position, with tears in my eyes, body soaking wet, my upper body on fire, with my left arm tucked under by body in the oddest position, and tingling in my legs.

The cat was making meowing sounds I had never heard before, clinging to a picture frame hanging above the fireplace, obviously in an attempt to avoid getting slammed by my body flopping all over the living room.

Note: If you ever feel compelled to ‘mug’ yourself with a Tazer, one note of caution: There is NO such thing as a one second burst when you zap yourself. You will not let go of the thing until it is dislodged from you hand by a violent thrashing about on the floor?

A three second burst would be considered conservative!

A minute or so later (I can’t be sure, as time was a relative thing at that point), I collect my wits (what little I had left), sat up and surveyed the landscape. *My bent reading glasses were on the mantel of the fireplace. *The recliner was upside down and about 8 feet or so from

where it originally was. *My triceps, right thigh and upper body still twitching. *My face felt like it had been shot up with Novocain, and

my bottom lip weighted 88 lbs. *I had no control over the drooling. *I saw a faint smoke cloud above my head, which I believe came from my hair.

PS: My wife can’t stop laughing about my experience, loved the gift and now regularly threatens me with it.

If you think education is difficult, try being stupid!!!!

31

The Power of a

Mother’s Prayer

32

Mitchell’s Tire Service

Chuckles, Giggles & Snickers

New Tires - Service Farm & Ranch Car & Light Truck

Two Blind Pilots

Hwy 36 South * Caldwell

One day at a busy airport, the passengers on a commercial airliner are seated, waiting for the cockpit crew to show up so they can get under way.

979-567-6375

The pilot and co-pilot finally appear in the rear of the plane, and begin waling up to the cockpit through the center aisle. Both appear to be blind. The pilot is using a white cane, bumping into passengers right and left as he stumbles down the aisle, and the co-pilot is using a guide dog. Both have their eyes covered with hugh sunglasses. At first the passengers do not react; thinking that it must be some sort of practical joke. However, after a few minutes the engines start spooling up and the airplane starts moving down the runway.

The passengers look at each other with some uneasiness, whispering among themselves and looking desperately to the stewardesses for reassurance. Then the airplane starts accelerating rapidly and people begin panicking.

Some passengers are praying, and as the plane gets closer and closer to the end of the runway, the voices are becoming more and more hysterical. Finally, when the airplane has less than 20 feet of runway left, there is a sudden change in the pitch of the shouts as everyone screams at once, and at the very last moment the airplane lifts off and its airborne.

Up in the cockpit, the co-pilot breathes a sigh of relief and turns to the Captain, “You know, one of these days the passengers aren’t going to scream and we’re gonna get killed!”

TTo submit a story for publication in the Front Porch email to imagemaker@airplexus.com

What Should They Say?

Three buddies die in a car crash, and they go to heaven to an orientation.

They are all asked. “When you are in your casket and friends and family are mourning you, what you like to hear them say about you? The first guy says, “ I would like to hear them say that I was a great doctor of my time, and a great family man.”

The second guy says, “I would like to hear that I was a wonderful husband and school teacher which made a huge difference in our children of tomorrow.”

The last guy replies, “I would like to hear them say, “Look!

He’s moving!”

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33

k n a T

This is one of those stories in which the facts don’t add up, but it still could be true...especially if you want it to be.

They told me the big black Lab's name was Reggie, as I looked at him lying in his pen. The shelter was clean, no-kill, and the people really friendly. I'd only been in the area for six months, but everywhere I went in the small college town, people were welcoming and open, even waving as I passed them on the street.

But something was still missing as I attempted to settle in to my new life here, and I thought a dog couldn't hurt. Give me someone to talk to. And I had just seen Reggie's advertisement on the local news.

The shelter said they had received numerous calls right after, but they said the people who had come down to see him just didn't look like "Lab people," They must've thought I did.

But at first, I thought the shelter had misjudged me in giving me Reggie and his things, a dog pad, bag of toys and many brand new tennis balls, his dishes and a sealed letter from his previous owner.

See, Reggie and I didn't really hit it off when we got home. We struggled for two weeks (as long as the shelter told me to give him to adjust to his new home). Maybe it was the fact that I was trying to adjust, too. Were we too much alike?

I saw the sealed envelope. I had completely forgotten about that.

"Okay, Reggie," I said out loud, "let's see if your previous owner has any advice."

To Whomever Gets My Dog: Well, I can't say that I'm happy you're reading this, a letter I told the shelter could only be opened by Reggie's new owner. I'm not even happy writing it. He knew something was different.

So let me tell you about my Lab in the hopes that it will help you bond with him and he with you.

First, he loves tennis balls. The more the merrier. Sometimes I think he's part squirrel, the way he hoards them. He usually always has two in his mouth, and he tries to get a third in there. Hasn't done it yet. Doesn't matter where you throw them, he'll bound after them, so be careful. Don't do it by any roads.

Next, commands. Reggie knows the obvious ones --- "sit," "stay," "come," "heel."

He knows hand signals, too: He knows "ball" and "food" and "bone" and "treat" like nobody's business.

Feeding schedule: twice a day, regular store-bought stuff; the shelter has the brand.

He's up on his shots. Be forewarned: Reggie hates the vet. Good luck getting him in the car. I don’t know how he knows when it's time to go to the vet, just knows.

Finally, give him some time. It's only been Reggie and me for his whole life. He's gone everywhere with me, so please include him on your daily car rides. He sits well in the backseat, and he doesn't bark or complain. He just loves to be around people, me most especially.

And that's why I need to share one more bit of info with you ... His name's NOT Reggie. He's a smart dog, he'll get used to it and will respond to it, of that I have no doubt. But I just couldn't bear to give them his real name. But if someone is reading this... well it means that his new owner should know his real name. His real name is "Tank."

Because, that is what I drive.

I told the shelter that they couldn't make "Reggie" available for adoption until they received word from my company commander.

You see, my parents are gone, I have no siblings, no one to leave Tank with ... and it was my only real request of the Army upon my deployment to Iraq, that they make one phone call to the shelter ... in the "event" ... to tell them that Tank could be put up for adoption. Luckily, my CO is a dog-guy, too, and he knew where my platoon was headed.

He said he'd do it personally. And if you're reading this, then he made good on his word.

Tank has been my family for six years, almost as long as the Army has been my family. And now I hope and pray that you make him part of your family, too, and that he will adjust and come to love you the same way he loved me.

If I have to give up Tank to keep those terrible people from coming to the US, I am glad to have done so. I hope I honored him by my service to my country and comrades.

All right, that's enough. I deploy this evening and have to drop this letter off at the shelter. Maybe I'll peek in on him and see if he finally got that third tennis ball in his mouth.

Good luck with Tank. Give him a good home, and give him an extra kiss goodnight - every night - from me.

Thank you, Paul Mallory I folded the letter and slipped it back in the envelope. Sure, I had heard of Paul Mallory, everyone in town knew him, even new people like me. Local kid, killed in Iraq a few months ago and posthumously earning the Silver Star when he gave his life to save three buddies. Flags had been at half-mast all summer.

I leaned forward in my chair and rested my elbows on my knees, staring at the dog.

Hey, Tank," I said quietly.

The dog's head whipped up, his ears cocked and his eyes bright.

"C'mere boy."

He was instantly on his feet, his nails clicking on the hardwood floor. He sat in front of me, his head tilted, searching for the name he hadn't heard in months. "Tank," I whispered. His tail swished.

I kept whispering his name, over and over, and each time, his ears lowered, his eyes softened, and his posture relaxed as a wave of contentment just seemed to flood him. I stroked his ears, rubbed his shoulders, buried my face into his scruff and hugged him.

"It's me now, Tank, just you and me. Your old pal gave you to me."

Tank reached up and licked my cheek.

"So whatdaya say we play some ball?" His ears perked again.

"Yeah? Ball? You like that? Ball?"

Tank tore from my hands and disappeared into the next room.

And when he came back, he had three tennis balls in his mouth.

If you can read this without getting a lump in your throat or a tear in your eye, you just ain't right.

A veteran is someone who, at one point, wrote a blank check made payable to 'The United States of America' for an amount of 'up to and including their life.'

That is Honor, and there are way too many people in this country who no longer understand it.

"The true soldier fights not because he hates what is in front of him, but because he loves what is behind him."

CALENDAR OF EVENTS April - October 2012

A Life of Purpose

by Renita Odstrcil

A

s I get older, the more I find myself thinking about what my purpose is and whether I am actually living my purpose. I read something the other day that stated, “Before you can begin to fulfill a dream, you must first identify what is in your mind and heart in the first place.”

Over the years, I’ve learned that everyone does have a purpose in life, everyone is special, and everyone is unique. God has given each of us a purpose which we have to search within our hearts to find. The Bible states, “The purpose in a man’s heart is like deep water, but a man of understanding will draw it out” (Proverbs 20:5).

Sometimes we get so bogged down with day-to-day living that we feel there has to be more to life than just the daily grind most of us are used to. Then we see someone who we feel is doing so much with his life while we are sitting around still trying to figure out what it is that we need to be doing.

We start to think, What is my purpose in life? Where do I begin? What does God want me to be doing? I think many of us can relate to these questions, and I think we all, deep down, want and need to feel like our lives have meaning, that each life has purpose, or has meant something to someone. We want to feel that we have made a difference.

I’ve always had these dreams of making some grand impact in some way, the kind we see made by famous philanthropists and celebrities, such as Warren Buffet or Michael Dell. They have given millions of dollars, along with hours of their time, to education, hospitals, and fighting poverty, plus so much more.

It would be easy to say, “Well, they are rich. They can afford to do those things, and it would be so easy to use this as an excuse for not doing more myself. But I know better. I know that there is so much that I can be doing even if it is on a much smaller scale.

36

It’s true that being wealthy can make some things easier in life, and there’s no denying that not everyone will be able to give back on the same monetary levels as those mentioned. But, in the end, giving back does not have to involve money at all.

There are so many things we should be doing that don’t cost anything more than a little bit of our time.

Time…here’s where many of us like to start making excuses again. We have a full time job, the kids, the after school activities, the house and yard to keep up with, and maybe elderly parents to help out with and check on daily. How in the world are we supposed to find time for anything else?

But, oddly enough, we always seem to find time to do the things we want to do, such as watching a favorite TV show or going to see a movie, getting a manicure or pedicure, going fishing or hunting. We can always make or find time for the things we want to do. Many of us spend several hours a week, and some times even hours in a day, surfing the internet or scrolling through social sites. All of which reminds me of the saying, “If something is important enough to you, you’ll find a way, and if it’s not, then you’ll find an excuse.”

So, all excuses aside, it is not necessary to be a wealthy philanthropist, celebrity, or a full-time volunteer to make meaningful contributions in life. We should give generously of whatever wealth and abilities we have. Each of us has something to give. Some have wealth, some have talents, and some have time. Whatever gifts we have been given, no matter how large or small, we should share generously. When we do, we make life better for someone else, and we find true meaning and satisfaction in our lives. This is what it means to have, and to live a life of purpose.

Renita Odstrcil is a licensed Texas Realtor. She is a member f the National Association of Professional Women, the National and Texas Association of Realtors, and the local B/CS Association of Realtors.

LIVE WELL IN BURLESON COUNTY… Goal of Burleson County Health Resource Center In January 2005, the Burleson County Commissioner’s Court created the Burleson County Health Resource Commission. Its aim is improving the overall health status in the county.

And a major way to accomplish this is by enhancing the access to needed services for Burleson County residents.

The BCHRC provides information and referral services, advocacy on behalf of county residents with special needs, and coordination of delivery of direct services.

A Transportation Program serves Burleson County residents who are without transportation or who are unable to drive and are in need of access to health-related services. With priority on medical and social service appointments, transportation is provided by community volunteers and is arranged on a first-come, first serve basis.

Anyone wishing to be considered for the transportation program must first arrange an eligibility screening and needsassessment by contacting a BHRC office. While there is no fee currently, donations to help cover operating expenses are welcome.

One BHRC office is located at 1108 Woodson Drive, Caldwell, TX 77836. Hours of operation are M-F, 8:30-4:30 p.m. Contact information is by phone: 979.567.3200; by fax: 979-567-3200; and by email: caldwellbhrc@burlesoncounty.org Another BHRC office is located 731 Avenue L, Somerville, TX 77879. Hours of operation are M-F, 1-4:00 p.m. Contact information is by phone/fax:979.596.2315; by email: somervillebhrc@burlesoncounty.org.

Burleson County Residents are eligible for: • Low-cost medical and dental care for uninsured persons thru Brazos Valley Community Action Agency Family Clinic, Health for All, etc.

• Counseling and services for children and women at-risk

thru the Dept of Assistive and Rehabilitative Services, etc.

• Assistance for elderly, disabled and children with special needs thru ARS, Aging and Disability Services and State Health Services.

• Mental health services thru services MHMR of the Brazos Valley, etc.

• Rent assistance thru the Brazos Valley COG voucher program, etc.

• Alcohol and substance abuse treatment thru Brazos Valley CASA. • Legal assistance thru Lone Star Legal Aid. • Parent Education and Anger Management sessions provided on site.

• As well as many other programs.

37

A Dollar’s Worth

by Bob Clark

Texas based Bob worked nearly 5 decades as a gypsy radio & TV personality from Mexico to Puerto Rico, New Jersey, and Oregon to name but a few. ________________________________

“Looks like your mother was right, kiddos. The place is packed. You think we ought to go back home?”

Five small voices rang out in a chorus of negativity and Clint Turner smiled in contentment that his jest had elicited such a unanimous response. The Turner family is alive and well, he thought. I don’t know what I’m gonna do if I can’t keep it that way. He brushed away fleeting thoughts of suicide as he gazed at the scene and realized that almost the entire town of Pearsall had turned out. In fact, the grand opening of the Dandee True Dollar Store had brought out people from all over Frio County. Even the local radio station was covering the event with a remote broadcast. He pushed open the glass door and his excited tribe rushed past him to join the shoppers.

“Hold up there, pardners,” he called after them. “You just wait a second. First, you got to have the cash before you can buy anything.”

The seven-year old twins, Joel and Jake skidded to a stop next to a fat lady in tight pants who was examining a two-for-one dollar special on snack packages. The boys turned around and hurried back with their hands outstretched. Eleven year old Tina had already spotted her quarry, the beauty supplies aisle. She halted her headlong rush at the word “cash.” That was another one of her favorites. Big Tom, the eldest at twelve turned to face his father.

With his arms held down and out, he began to shepherd the flock back toward Clint. The youngest, four year old Emmy Lou wasn’t going anywhere. She held onto her Daddy’s hand and squeezed it when she beheld the terrifying horde of bargain hunters filling every aisle.

“All right now. I got each one of you something special to make your purchases with. I went to the bank today and got brand new two-dollar bills for everybody. Since this is a dollar store, that means you can get two things. I don’t have any more money than that, so choose wisely.” He doled out one crisp bill to each of the children and four of them vanished into the crowd.

This was Clint’s first time back to Pearsall after moving fiftyfive miles up Interstate 35 to San Antonio in search of a job. Six months before, a large corporation purchased the ranch where he had worked as a foreman ever since he and Abby were married. In the takeover, he had been let go. Since then, his efforts at securing employment in the small town had been futile. His wife worked as a cashier at the Wal-Mart and they eked out a bare existence since his firing. She never complained, but he knew she deserved better.

He told her if he got a good job in San Antonio, she could ask for a transfer and since Wal-Mart always needed good cashiers, she’d get a job there.

At the rear of the store, a thin man in blue jeans and a white shirt set off by an unfashionably skinny tie stood near a display of laundry detergents. He projected his voice into a cell phone.

“Pearsall is growing at a rapid pace. A new Western wear store last month and today, the grand opening of the Dandee True Dollar Store just a block away from the Wal-Mart on North Oak.” He made a half turn and faced another man. “With me this morning is the man responsible for our live remote broadcast on Hot Hit Country.”

A burly man outfitted in a too bright white suit grinned a

38

toothy smile. His outfit was set off by an eye grabbing breast pocket handkerchief festooned with dollar bill drawings. He smoothed down a broad tie with the same dollar motif and moved closer to the radio announcer as he spoke to the unseen audience.

“Mr. Jim Dandee, Hot Hit Country is pleased that you have chosen Pearsall as the third location in what we hope will be a nationwide chain of stores. Just looking at the crowd today, we can see this store is already a great success. I know you have a unique retail concept. Could you tell our listeners what it is that makes the Dandee True Dollar Store so different from all other stores?”

The man in white cleared his throat and took the cell phone out of the radio announcer’s hand. “Well Dusty, some dollar stores say everything is priced at a dollar, but my stores really mean it.

We include the sales tax on every purchase. What that means is instead of buying something for a dollar and then paying the state another eight cents because of the tax, we price each item at ninety-two cents or so. With the added tax, the price of each item comes out to exactly one dollar.” He paused for a moment as a pair of twins brushed against his legs in search of toys. He looked down and smiled at the boys before continuing his sales pitch. “There’s something for everyone, even the smallest members of the family.

Here, Dusty,” he said as he passed the cell phone back to the announcer, “you take over now. I’ve got to see about my customers.”

Two aisles over, Tina was undecided. She absolutely had to have the six pretty barrettes and the purple and white cheerleader pompons, but she also wanted the set of Harriet Homemaker dishes and matching silverware. The dilemma caused confusion in her young head. Three must have items and only one two-dollar bill.

Big Tommy eyed the stereo headphones and some other electronic accessories in the next aisle while Emmy Lou gazed at the pretty porcelain doll in the bright blue gown with matching sun hat. Her father beamed as he stood behind her. For the first time in weeks, he felt joy, pleased that his ten-dollar investment was already paying dividends. All he needed to make the day perfect was a job.

Fifteen minutes later, he corralled the kids, coaxed them to put back the items that were over his imposed limit of two per child and led them to the checkout counter. The twins scooted ahead of Tina to place their choices onto the rubber mat. Clint asked the cashier to separate the items because each was going to pay for the ones they chose.

It was the most hectic day of Cleotilde Varela’s life and only one hour into it, she was overstressed. She remembered Mr. Dandee’s words that morning. “Every customer is a dollar. Every dollar pays your salary.” She rolled her eyes and did what was requested, but she felt it was too much for her. The crowd never let up.

Joel was the first to dig deep into his jeans pocket when Cleotilde said, “That’s two dollars even.” He reached high to place his two-dollar bill into her outstretched hand. He hated to part with it, but he knew a choice had to be made. Money in his pocket or toys? The choice wasn’t even close.

Read the ending of this heart-warming story in the next issue of the Front Porch Magazine.

The Power of a

Mother’s Prayer Cont’d from Page 32

It’s been said that misery loves company. Elwyn had acquired a group of friends who were heading down the same path. But God had yet another shocker awaiting him. One of his drinking buddies, an outspoken atheist, became unusually inquisitive about the Bible.

A few days later Elwyn discovered that his friend had purchased a Bible of his own. And if that wasn’t unusual enough, Elwyn surprisingly found himself asking his buddy if he’d care to attend the worship service at one of the churches on base. The following Sunday, two unlikely participants received Communion.

The next weekend they decided to visit a small Assemblies of God church a few miles from base. The morning service went by in a blur, followed by an afternoon of silence. Yet something deep inside pulled them back for the evening service. After the message that night, an invitation was given. Elwyn went forward and knelt. Suddenly, he became aware of someone kneeling beside him.

It was his friend, the former atheist. And together they poured out their hearts to God. Even though God was in the process of doing a work of grace, Elwyn Rogers had not experienced the release he sought. His military service was drawing to a close, and he realized that difficult days were ahead. Processing back into civilian life would bring him face to face with the crowd that had brought him down the first time.

But God was faithful. The dark night of Elwyn’s soul eventually gave way to the supernatural joy that comes with the morning. Wave after wave of God’s love washed away the pain that was buried deep inside.

Elwyn has now been a pastor for more than 30 years.

He currently ministers at Marlow (Oklahoma) Assembly of God. Yet God’s message to him, “I made a promise to your mother just before she died, that I would take care of her children,” is as astonishing to him today as it was back then. What he heard underscores two timeless concepts: the power of a mother’s prayer and the faithfulness of a loving and patient God! Larry Hatfield is pastor emeritus of Grand Assembly of God in Chickasha, Oklahoma.

39

HADACOL THE CURE ALL

Child rearing experts are people who, never having bothered themselves with such undertakings as having children, delve deeply into telling the rest of us how to raise our kids--and some actually believe they know what they’re talking about.

My parents never got around to reading any of their books, consequently they thought they were in charge of the kids--and they made me believe they were. In their ignorance they forced me to do things that I’m sure any psychiatrist would acknowledge, warped my delicate psyche. It’s a miracle I didn’t become a bank robber, arsonist, or serial killer.

For instance, my parents insisted that I go to church every single, solitary, boring service, even on pretty days when common sense dictated that I stay home and play. But, we were allowed to stay home from church only when we were sick. In our house to be sick enough to miss church meant throwing up or running high fever.

One Sunday, the lure of beautiful weather, building a hut, and romping in the woods tugged harder than Mama’s insistence that I go to church. I devised a masterful scheme. I would pretend to be sick. Mama would leave me at home, and I would be outside playing before the ’39 Chevrolet was out of sight.

On the Sunday morning of my misadventure I went to the table holding my stomach. “Mama, I don’t want any breakfast; I’m bad sick.”

STORY TAKEN FROM BUTTERMILK AND BOXER SHORTS A SERIES OF SHORT STORIES PLUCKED FROM THE PAST OF NEAL BEARD,

a retired pastor living in Douglasville, Georgia. He writes history/humor about the rural northwest Georgia community where he grew up in the 40s and 50s. was called diluted acid hydrochloric, alleged to open the arteries so the other ingredients, including the “preservative,” could be absorbed more quickly by the body. It sold for $1.25 for an eight ounce bottle. Mama thought it cured anything that ailed you.

She gave me two tablespoons of Hadacol. It tasted like burnt motor oil laced with dead buzzard, and garnished with wild onions. I gagged and gasped. A volcanic river rushed over my tonsils. My innards chugged like an air compressor. My eyes watered and my nose ran. She then made me chase it with a snort of mineral oil (a demonic relative of castor oil). Now I was sick enough to stay home---but not to play.

I never again pretended to be sick. In fact I pretended to be well when I was sick. The Hadacol and mineral oil cure was worse than any disease. I believe it would cure fallen arches, falling hair, and mild cases of leprosy. If I had to choose between the disease and the cure, I’d choose leprosy. The $1.25 Mama paid for that bottle of Hadacol was well spent.

“You do look a little pale, I better give you some medicine and let you to back to bed.” Mama had a counter plan. She kept in our medicine cabinet, a tonic, concocted and marketed by Louisiana state senator Dudley J. LeBlanc, called Hadacol. When asked about its name, LeBlanc said,“Well, I hadda’call it something!”

That one bottle, threatening from the medicine cabinet, kept me well all the years of my childhood. Even now when I feel poorly I can remember the Hadacol and mineral oil cure and begin to perk up.

Hadacol contained so much alcohol (listed in the ingredients as a preservative) that the city of Northbrook, Illinois, only allowed it to be sold in liquor stores. Another mystery ingredient

Who knows how I might have turned out if Mama had spent her $1.25 on a book by a child rearing expert. I might be a bank robber, arsonist, or serial killer

40

SHOES IN CHURCH

I showered and shaved............... I adjusted my tie.

I got there and sat............... In a pew just in time.

Bowing my head in prayer......... As I closed my eyes..

I saw the shoe of the man next to me..... Touching my own. I sighed.

With plenty of room on either side.....

I thought, ‘Why must our soles touch?’

It bothered me, his shoe touching mine...

But it didn’t bother him much.

A prayer began : ‘Our Father’.............

I thought, ‘This man with the shoes, has no pride.

They’re dusty, worn, and scratched. Even worse, there are holes on the side!’ ‘ Thank You for blessings,’ the prayer went on.

The shoe man said............... A quiet ‘Amen.’

I tried to focus on the prayer.......

But my thoughts were on his shoes again.

Aren’t we supposed to look our best.

When walking through that door?

‘Well, this certainly isn’t it,’ I thought, Glancing toward the floor..

Then the prayer was ended........... And the songs of praise began.

The shoe man was certainly loud..... Sounding proud as he sang.

His voice lifted the rafters........ His hands were raised high.

The Lord could surely hear. The shoe man’s voice from the sky.

It was time for the offering..... And what I threw in was steep.

I watched as the shoe man reached.... Into his pockets so deep.

I saw what was pulled out............ What the shoe man put in.

Then I heard a soft ‘clink’ . As when silver hits tin.

The sermon really bored me............ To tears, and that’s no lie.

It was the same for the shoe man.... For tears fell from his eyes.

At the end of the service...... As is the custom here.

We must greet new visitors, And show them all good cheer.

But I felt moved somehow.............

And wanted to meet the shoe man.

So after the closing prayer......... I reached over and shook his hand.

He was old and his skin was dark.... And his hair was truly a mess.

But I thanked him for coming......... For being our guest.

He said, ‘My name’s Charlie.............

I’m glad to meet you, my friend.’

There were tears in his eyes........ But he had a large, wide grin.

‘Let me explain,’ he said.......... Wiping tears from his eyes.

‘I’ve been coming here for months.... And you’re the first to say ‘Hi..’

‘I know that my appearance............’Is not like all the rest.

‘But I really do try.................’ To always look my best.’

‘I always clean and polish my shoes..Before my very long walk.

‘But by the time I get here..........’ They’re dirty and dusty, like chalk.’

My heart filled with pain.......... And I swallowed to hide my tears.

As he continued to apologize........... For daring to sit so near He said, ‘When I get here..............’I know I must look a sight.

‘But I thought if I could touch you..

Then maybe our souls might unite.’

I was silent for a moment........... Knowing whatever was said Would pale in comparison... I spoke from my heart, not my head.

‘Oh, you’ve touched me,’ I said......’And taught me, in part; ‘That the best of any man...............’Is what is found in his heart.’

The rest, I thought,..................... This shoe man will never know.

Like just how thankful I really am...

That his dirty old shoe touched my soul.

41

How Much Trust

by Scarlette Taylor

in the Jordan River 7 times, and your flesh shall be restored to you, and you shall be clean,” he said.

Naaman, at first defiant to do as he was told, finally did, and his flesh “was re How much trust do you have in the stored like the flesh of a little child.” NaaLord God? Are you like the scripture man initially trusted in his own ideas, his in Psalm 125:1, “Those who trust in own thoughts. When Elisha didn’t go out the Lord are like Mount Zion, which cannot be moved, and which abides forever. As the mountains surround Jerusalem so the Lord surrounds His people.”

Do you trust the Lord? How much trust do you have in Him, in His ways? Are you more like Naaman, the Syrian commander of his king’s army? He was ready to let the prophet Elisha heal him of his leprosy.

Do you remember that story in II to meet him, Naaman was furious. He had Kings, chapter 5? A young Israeli girl had decided beforehand that the man of God been taken captive by the Syrians, and would go out to him, stand and call out to she had become a servant to Naaman’s his God, and wave his hand over the place wife. The girl, learning of Naaman’s lep- and heal the leprosy. rosy, told his wife that if Naaman were When Naaman was told to go dip 7 with the prophet in Israel, the prophet times in the Jordan River, he responded would heal him. that he could go to the rivers of Syria Naaman, after getting permission which were better. Is that you? What do from the king went to Israel and ulti- you do when God is telling you to do mately to Elisha’s house. Elisha sent a something? If He tells you to go to church messenger out to tell Naaman what to do regularly, to be patient, not to retaliate, to be healed of his leprosy. ”Go and wash to give money to someone, to be in the

study of His Word daily, to watch how you speak, to speak to someone of Jesus, or to be slow to anger, what do you do?

As a believer in Jesus Christ, are you quick to respond to the prompting of the Holy Spirit in you? Do you trust God in your daily life, or are you just showing up occasionally on Sunday mornings, getting convicted during church service and then going on your own way, deciding, as Naaman did, how God should do things for you?

Brother or sister, it didn’t work for Naaman, and it won’t work for you. A life of trusting in the Lord requires just that, trusting in the Lord.

“How do you trust anyone?” you might ask. In day-to-day relationships, you learn whom you can trust. Through interaction and involvement you come to know who is trustworthy. The same is true with God. You must spend time with God, the Father. Can you pray? If the answer is no, then get your Bible. Begin “praying” in the New Testament (Skip Matt 1:1-17, the genealogy part, for now, by reading God’s Word to Him. Just say out loud what His Word states.

Then ask God to help you understand what the Bible is saying, and ask Him to help you remember it. Ask God to use His Word to help you grow. Then resolve to trust God to help you.

It may all seem awkward at first. But don’t waste time. It is one of God’s precious gifts. Remember that Jesus’ half brother James tells us in the book of James that every good and perfect gift is from the Father of Lights, in whom there is no shadow of turning. God gives you only so much time in this life, so ask Him to open your heart and mind to Him. Then ask Him to help you trust Him in your life, and He will be faithful to you. He’ll grow and mature you in Himself. He’ll surround you, as the mountains surround Jerusalem.

As the mountains surround Jerusalem so the Lord surrounds His people.

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piness.

‘Honey,’ he said, ‘that explains the dolls, but what about all of this money? Where did it come from?’

‘Oh,’ she said, ‘that’s the money I made from selling the dolls.’

Chuckles, Giggles & Snickers

A Prayer....

Dear Lord, I pray for Wisdom to understand my man; Love to forgive him; and Patience for his moods; Because Lord, if I pray for Strength, I’ll beat him to death, Because I don’t have time to knit?

The Shoebox

A man and woman had been married for more than 60 years.

They had shared everything. They had talked about everything. They had kept no secrets from each other except that the little old woman had a shoe box in the top of her cupboard that she had cautioned her husband never to open or ask her about.

For all of these years, he had never thought about the box, but one day the little old woman got very sick and the doctor said she would not recover.

In trying to sort out their affairs, the little old man took down the shoe box and took it to his wife’s bedside.

She agreed that it was time that he should know what was in the box. When he opened it, he found two knitted dolls and a stack of money totaling $95,000.

He asked her about the contents.

‘When we were to be married,’ she said, ‘my grandmother told me the secret of a happy marriage was to never argue. She told me that if I ever got angry with you, I should just keep quiet and knit a doll.’

The little old man was so moved; he had to fight back tears. Only two precious dolls were in the box. She had only been angry with him twice in all those years of living and loving. He almost burst with hap-

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Jimmy’s Sunday Blues

by Jimmy Boedeker

My wife Brenda informed me recently she had seen where the VA Outlet in Hempstead was having a deal on jeans, and we both knew I needed some; however, quite often in the past I have not been able to find my special size of 44X30 Regular fit Lee Jeans. The deal was to buy 2 pair and get 1 free.

Well, as I should have expected, there was only one pair in my size and I was told I must pay for two pair in order to get one pair free. Wheels began to turn and I decided to buy two pair of another size, return them and get the one pair free. The young lady stated that was okay and rung up the credit card sale.

She then asked if I wanted to return the two pair for credit and receive the one pair free.

It didn’t take me long to decide that was a good deal and since it was No Sales Tax Week-end, I had the one pair at no charge.

Now, I’m thinking I should purchase more jeans while the price was right, and I asked if that was okay. The young lady said that was okay to place an order, and they would be shipped to me at the same special price. I wanted to make sure of the good deal, so I asked if I purchased 6 pair, would I get 3 pair free.

“Okay,” she said, “but you have to pay the freight or postage of about four dollars.” I then stated the freight charge should be their expense because if they were in stock I could avoid the postage. (Now, I’m reminded of a joke that has little to do with this story, but it’s funny enough to inject how and it’s about postage and a fellow who went to the Post Office to complain about his mail being wet and was informed that it might have been caused by the Postage Dew. This story might be called comic relief as is said in the movies, and I hope it worked. Notice the spelling of Dew instead of Due, and therein lies the humor, for those who may be only serious thinkers.)

Now, I must get back to the jean story and the young lady who was waiting on me. By this time, we’d become pretty good friends and needed a break, so she informed me after many punches on the cash register that there is no postage when you buy twelve (12) pair. I then stated, so that I was sure I understood, if I pay for eight pair, I could get 4 (four) pair free, which amounts to 12 (twelve) pair and no postage or sales tax.

She said, “Yes,” and I thought I’d better stock up on this deal as they were already at half price and was soon to go up from $19.95 to $21.95 as I noticed on one of the newer tags.

I then asked, “If I pay for 16 (sixteen) pair, could I get 8 (eight) pair free?” and she said that I could. The young clerk was growing weary, but she stayed till the end. She just needed backup.

I then stated that I may open a retail store (since I had 8 years experience in my brother’s shoes and clothing store, and I pretty well know my way around in retail clothing. I just don’t dress as if I do), and the name of the store will be 44 x 30 and if you want any other size, you need not come in.

You may wonder by now why the manager hasn’t come in. And sure enough, she showed up, just as pleasant as could be and offered help if needed and stated she remembered me from the last time I was in, and seemed happy to see me.

I thought a little more and decided to pay for 20 (twenty) pair (about $400) and get 10 (ten) pair free. Having agreed on the total of 30 pair of jeans, the young lady closed the sale, and Brenda and I left the store.

I got to the car and Brenda, “not smiling” said, “What are you going to do if you gain or lose weight?”

I stated, “I’ll just return and exchange the jeans I haven’t used yet.”

Brenda said, “Oh!” and I said I should have paid for 30 (thirty) pair and got 15 (fifteen) free, at that price, and she stated, “You can never get enough of things you don’t need.”

So far I have received only two pair in the mail. The order must have turned some heads at corporate- You Think? I guess I should write and ask about the rest of the order but maybe they just need more time to make some more jeans in my special size.

Waist size 44 is such a waste. One might wonder why a person who is six feet tall needs only a 30 length. I will explain that. One should allow about 3 to 4 inches for the jeans to come down from the waist as many have too much in front and too little in the back. That reminds me of a recent comic strip, where the patient after x-rays asked the doctor if he had found out what caused his back to go out and the doctor replied, “It’s because the front is too far out.”

Perhaps you may have observed when a professional male plumber or carpenter comes to work on your cabinet or sink, etc. that his jeans may come down below the fault line. This may be a good place to have his license tattooed on his backside, and therefore give reason for the exposure. I tell my wife Brenda, of H & R Block, when this happens to me that I am studying for my plumber’s license, and the exposed area will be the place for my plumber’s license number. It’s just part of being a professional.

The Carpenter Once upon a time, two brothers who lived on adjoining farms fell into conflict. It was the first serious rift in 40 years of farming side-by-side, sharing machinery and trading labor and goods as needed without a hitch.

Then the long collaboration fell apart. It began with a small misunderstanding and it grew into a major difference and finally, it exploded into an exchange of bitter words followed by weeks of silence.

One morning there was a knock on John’s door. He opened it to find a man with a carpenter’s toolbox. “I ‘m looking for a few days’ work,” he said. “Perhaps you would have a few small jobs here and there I could help with? Could I help you?”

“Yes,” said the older brother. “I do have a job for you. Look across the creek at that farm. That’s my neighbor. In fact, it’s my younger brother! Last week there was a meadow between us. He recently took his bulldozer to the river levee and now there is a creek between us. Well, he may have done this to spite me, but I’ll do him one better. See that pile of lumber by the barn? I want you to build me a fence an 8-foot fence -- so I won’t need to see his place or his face anymore.”

The carpenter said, “I think I understand the situation.

Show me the nails and the post-hole digger and I’ll be able to do a job that pleases you.”

The older brother had to go to town, so he helped the carpenter get the materials ready and then he was off for the day.

The carpenter worked hard all that day -- measuring, sawing and nailing. About sunset when the farmer returned, the carpenter had just finished his job.

The farmer’s eyes opened wide, his jaw dropped. There was no fence there at all.

It was a bridge .. A bridge that stretched from one side of the creek to the other! A fine piece of work, handrails and all!

And the neighbor, his younger brother, was coming toward them, his hand outstretched..

“You are quite a fellow to build this bridge after all I’ve said and done.”

The two brothers stood at each end of the bridge, and then they met in middle, taking each other’s hand. They turned to see the carpenter hoist his toolbox onto his shoulder.

“No, wait! Stay a few days I’ve a lot of other projects for you,” said the older brother.

“I’d love to stay on,” the carpenter said, “but I have many more bridges to build.”

45

Teach Your Children Well Establishing Schools in Burleson County

By Tammy Kubecka

When our forefathers settled America, and eventually Texas, they were definitely thinking of life, liberty and the pursuit of religious freedom. As small communities were settled, the social center of the area was usually a church, followed by the establishment of a cemetery as the need arose.

But what about education? Apparently it was on the minds of our pioneers, as schools were established in nearly every community. Very often, the local church house served as a school during the week and a place of worship on Sundays or other days.

Benches doubled as pews and school seating, and if you were lucky, t h e r e might be a chalkb o a r d that could be moved to the front for classes.

A school pro g r am became a community event, as did a graduation cere m o ny.

In less p opu lated areas, school m i g h t even be held in a private home.

Burleson County has had nearly 140 schools over the years, providing children with at least a few years of “learning.” If nothing else, students needed to learn some basic spelling and be able to do simple math. Sometimes that’s all they needed to get by….a way to figure expenses or income, the ability to count money, and a way to sign your name. Most schools offered eight grades, but education was often dictated by the need for field hands, or an extra helper at home.

Most of the schools in Burleson County were established in the late 1800s, and very early 1900s. A number of buildings

46

were erected or repaired in the 1910s, and a major consolation was done in the late 1930s. Water wells and sometimes a piece of playground equipment graced some school yards, and of course, an outhouse was located a discreet distance away. One teacher commanded the entire student body, teaching all subjects, maintaining kerosene lanterns and woodstoves, and having to discipline a wide range of ages and personalities.

One of the first communities established in the county was Providence, just east of Caldwell, and it is believed that a school was established there about 1843, or perhaps a little earlier.

1914 county school reports described the school as being “across the b r a n c h” from the church and c e m e t e r y.

A school at Hix, or Fr a i m ville as it was called then, was established about 1856 and Porter’s Chapel and Tunis in 1858. Black schools were mostly established in the later 1800s, with the Green School being one of the earliest, started in 1886. Very few buildings remain.

That’s over 150 years of education in Burleson County, and a lot of school memories!

The Burleson County Historical Commission has launched a project this year to find the locations of past schools in the county. A map with school locations, churches, gins and other businesses is in the works. If you have any information on an old school, please contact the CHC via their webpage (on the County website) or their new Facebook page, or drop by the museum any Friday afternoon.

Chuckles, Giggles & Snickers

A wealthy man decided to go on a safari in Africa. He took his faithful pet dachshund along for company. One day, the dachshund starts chasing butterflies and before long the dachshund discovers that he is lost.

So, wandering about, he notices a leopard heading rapidly in his direction with the obvious intention of having him for lunch.

The dachshund thinks, “I’m in deep trouble now!” Then he noticed some bones on the ground close by, and immediately settles down to chew on the bones with his back to the approaching cat.

Just as the leopard is about to leap, the dachshund exclaims loudly, “Boy, that was one delicious leopard. I wonder if there are any more around here.”

Hearing this, the leopard halts his attack in mid-stride, as a look of terror comes over him, and slinks away into the trees.

“Whew,” says the leopard. “That was close. That dachshund nearly had me.”

Meanwhile, a monkey, who had been watching the whole scene from a nearby tree, figures he can put this knowledge to good use and trade it for protection from the leopard. So, off he goes.

But the dachshund saw him heading after the leopard with great speed, and figured that something must be up.

The monkey soon catches up with the leopard, spills the beans and strikes a deal for himself with the leopard. The leopard is furious at being made a fool of and says, “Here monkey, hop on my back and see what’s going to happen to that conniving canine.”

Now the dachshund sees the leopard coming with the monkey on his back, and thinks, “What am I going to do now?” But instead of running, the dog sits down with his back to his attackers, pretending he hasn’t seen them yet. And, just when they get close enough to hear, the dachshund says:

“Where’s that darn monkey? Sent him off half an hour ago to bring me another leopard.”

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Don’t forget to SHOP LOCALLY 47

Snake Bites

What Should I Do?

by Jack F. McKemie DVM Brazos Valley Mobile Vet Services

First and foremost, do not panic when your pet has had an encounter with a snake. Once you are aware that your pet could have been bitten by a snake, you need to determine the type of snake, site of the snake bite, mentation, or mental activity, of the pet, respiration or breathing pattern of pet, gum color if possible, and any area of excessive swelling or discolored tissue.

Confine the pet in a quiet, non-stressful, and temperature-controlled environment.

Monitor your pet for sudden changes in breathing, pain and mentation. The first two to four hours after a snake bite typically are the most important, but life threatening conditions also develop 24-36 hours after a venomous snake bite.

Once you have done a preliminary assessment of your pet, please contact your local veterinarian, or Texas A&M University Hospital, if after hours, for advice on how to handle the situation. I cannot stress enough the FACT that all snake bites are different, and it takes a little bit of experience to sort out an emergency referral for anti-venom treatment versus hospitalization, pain meds, observation and antibiotics.

If you observe your pet is having signs of shock, which include pale or white gums, difficulty breathing, poor mentation/ alertness, rapid discoloration, or bruising, please seek help immediately.

With that said, it is salient, or important, to note that not all snakes are venomous. Typically, the bad snakes have a large triangular head, small shiny cap over nose, fangs, long movable front teeth, an elliptical pupil or cat eye pupil, and a pit or darkened area between the nose and eye. It is also important to note the size of the snake as well. Larger snakes will produce more venom and cause more morbidity in a snakebite case.

In this area, copperheads are the most common venomous viper; however, Burleson County is quite diverse, and I have heard of Water moccasin, Cotton mouth, East Texas rattle snake and Coral snake encounters. So, be aware of the type of snake you are dealing with. You can research noxious creatures online for your area. The website at Nature.com will allow you to put in our e-mail and zip code to aide in your search. ASPCA poison control hotline ($65 charge) and your local county extension agency will also have resources to determine the most likely venomous critters in your area.

If you can identify the snake, this will help the vet assisting you. 20-25% of bites are non venomous, 30% are mildly venomous, local pain/swelling at the site of the bite, and 40% of all bites can be severe, needing hospitalization, blood work, intravenous fluids, antivenin treatment, pain meds, and antibiotics. 5% of bites will be fatal.

Gather yourself, assess your pet, determine the species and size, if possible, then contact a vet for the best advice on how to

48

proceed. If the bite has been by a Water moccasin, Cottonmouth, Rattlesnake, or Coral snake, you will be referred to the A&M Veterinarian Hospital for antivenin treatment. It is important to note that the antivenin treatment typically costs $1500 and up, However, this may be your pet’s only hope to survive.

I cannot tell you how many times I have advised antivenin therapy on a pet (they declined) and the pet had serious complications or died several days later.

So, if you ask what you can do at home, I must say not a lot, other than what I have already described. You can administer Benadryl orally, after getting a vet’s advice for dosage. NEVER self-medicate with human medications, ANY OF THEM, without veterinarian consultation.

So, what can you do to reduce the chance of your pet being bitten by a snake?

Be aware and alert as a pet owner.

Leash walk and monitor your pet at prime times of snake movement, which is at ambient temps and at dusk/dawn.

Keep away from woods or underdeveloped areas where snakes eat small bugs or rodents.

Keep areas around your house free of clutter, junk, garbage, weeds, high grass, where snakes could go to eat bugs and small rodents.

Snake repellants, not effective for larger snakes, can be effective for smaller shakes.

Cats and fowl can also deter and kill smaller snakes.

You can condition your pet to be fearful of snakes at an early age.

There is a vaccination for pit viper snakebites made by Red Rock Biologics. It is made from Rattle snake venom and can help but not totally prevent complications of a bite. Injection requirement are two vaccines the first year, and a booster each year after. Time them so that the last vaccine is one month before snake season, Spring!

To conclude, your pet has only you to provide what is needed. Consider the evaluation details you’ve been given, contact your veterinarian or the A&M University Hospital, and take their advice. When dealing with snakebites, I would stress erring on the side of caution for your pet.

Experience . Knowledge . Integrity Danny Koerth, CPA, P.C. is a new service business located at 201 West Fox, Suite 206, across from the courthouse in downtown Caldwell. Danny Koreth is available Monday-Friday 8:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m. But he has extended week-day hours, as well as time on Saturdays and Sundays during tax season.

Koerth is a native of Burton, Texas, and a graduate of Burton High School. He attended Blinn College in Brenham for two years, and went on to complete his college work in 2003 at Southwest Texas State University in San Marcos, earning a degree in Business Administration with majors in Accounting and Finance. And in April of 2007 he became a CPA, passing a fourpart exam and possessing the requirements of ethics and college courses.

His accounting and finance work began with Jansen and Gregorczyk in Kyle, Texas, where he worked as an accountant, auditing financial statements for non-for-profit entities, as well as preparing tax returns and learning other procedures.

He then went to Patillo, Brown, and Hill in Waco, Texas. where he worked as Senior auditor on financial statements for local governments, school districts, and cities, and reviewed staff work, etc.

Then he worked as auditor for Mon-

temayor & Associates, P.C., in Austin where he continued to learn the business. Time was then spent with Brewer, Eyeington,

Patout & Co, LLP, Bryan, Texas; Velocity Credit Union, Austin, Texas; Alenco Windows, Bryan, Texas, and then he worked

with Lillian K. Crnkovik here in Caldwell from 2008 till he opened his own office.

Koreth offers a variety of services that include tax management, reviews and compilation, financial and retirement planning, bookkeeping/ write-up, Quick Books accounting help and assistance, Payroll services, IRS Representation, and other services.

An in-depth presentation of his services, as well as other information, can be seen on his website www.koerthcpa.com. There you may also subscribe to a monthly newsletter that keeps you up on tax law information, as well as changes in tax law.

Koerth has been a resident of Caldwell since July 2005. He and his wife Laura, who works at Prosperity Bank, welcomed Makaylah Rayne, their first child on February 19, 2012. The family lives in the city of Caldwell.

Koerth desires to help clients by providing both businesses and individuals the guidance needed with their tax management, planning, and/or accounting services. He is dedicated to meeting needs with high standards, and with excellence and professionalism.

You can contact Danny Koerth at the above mentioned address or by phone at 979-567-8400; by email at danny@ koerthcpa.com; by fax at 979-567-8433; or on the web at www.koerthcpa.com.

What to Do When Your Husband Brings Home a Chihuahua

by Charisse Adams

It all started in 1996. Hubby decided he wanted a Chihuahua. “Ok,” I said, having been raised with this breed of dog.

Unbeknownst to me, this would be the start of my undoing. Hubby came home with the next one in 2007, and we still had the first one, both males.

Then I went to work for a vet, where someone relinquished a beautiful female Chihuahua. I told Hubby about her, and he immediately went and adopted her. What in the world was I thinking?!!!

Then he decided we would let the female have a litter. I said, “Ok, one litter would be all right.” So, we took the female to the vet, read everything online about birthing puppies, and gathered everything on the list for birthing. We’re prepared!!!

Yes, birthing was no problem. In the middle of my bed, on my new bedspread 4 beautiful puppies were born. Soon I had three families lined up for the pups, but Hubby went and named all of them by the time they were three days old. You know what that meant!!

Now, here it comes…He starts to work away a lot of the time, so I become the caretaker of, mind you, 7 Chihuahuas! I would go to work every morning at 8:00, then come home by 5:30. Each day I was greeted at the gate by 7 little dogs who acted like they hadn’t seen me for a year.

I would make it through the gate ok, and into the house ok. Then comes the trouble. I didn’t know a Chihuahua could jump that high; I didn’t know the force a Chihuahua can exert when he pulls on a pants leg. So, by the time I make my way through the kitchen to the bedroom, I have been bitten lovingly 5 times on the rear, and on the pants legs, that are now stretched out three feet, and I am having to hold them up to keep from tripping.

Finally, I make it to a chair where they all, I repeat all, have to get on my lap to make sure I’m the same person who left that morning. I’d been gone a year in doggie time.

Needless to say, this happened every day of the week. “But, they are not yours,” Hubby would remind me. “They are mine, and you’re just a caretaker.”

The point of all this is…..LADIES, NO MATTER HOW MUCH YOU LOVE YOUR MAN, REMEMBER TO JUST SAY NO TO A CHIHUAHUA… BECAUSE YOU CAN’T STOP WITH JUST ONE!!!

51

boondocks cafe If you drive down Hwy 36 South from Caldwell and get to the outskirts of Somerville, you’ll see the Boondocks Café, where the owners proclaim the food to be “Simply the Best Food Around!”

Owners Jessie and Sharon Mendoza refer to their café as a family owned and operated business. They say that they all work hard to keep the café operating well.

When talking with Sharon, she says she’s been in Burleson County all her life. And she’s had experience in the restaurant work, having had the Boondocks open some four years ago, at 6845 Hwy 36 S. She says she was happy to have the opportunity to reopen at 17930 Hwy 36 South, Somerville, TX 77879, in March 2011.

At Boondocks, you’ll find a variety of items on their menu, most fired and grilled. These include shrimp, catfish, gumbo, gaitor, frog legs, oysters, burgers, and steaks, 24 oz. Sirloin and 16 oz Rib-eye, as well as chicken fried steaks and hamburger steaks.

Good salads are also available: chef, shrimp, and grilled chicken.

They know the importance of a friendly environment with good service. They offer daily specials, meals like Chicken fried steak and items traditionally on the menu. There is no buffet or heat lamp in their restaurant. They serve food that is prepared when you order it.

Hours Open: Tues-Sunday 11:00-9:00 p m Lunch specials run from 11:00-2:00

52

Chuckles, Giggles & Snickers A Texan was walking through the Chihuahua desert, desperate for water, when he saw something, far off in the distance. Hoping to find water, he walked towards the image, only to find a little old man sitting at a card table with a bunch of neckties laid out on it.

The Texan asked "Please, I'm dying of thirst, can I have some water?"

The man replied, "I don't have any water, but why don't you buy a tie? Here's one that goes nicely with your shirt."

The Texan shouted, "I don't want a tie, you idiot, I need water!"

"OK, don't buy a tie. But to show you what a nice guy I am, I'll tell you that over that hill there, about 4 miles, is a nice restaurant.

Walk that way, they'll give you all the water you want."

The Texan thanked him and walked away towards the hill and eventually disappeared.

Three hours later the Texan came crawling back to where the man was sitting behind his card table.

The little old man said, "I told you, about 4 miles over that hill.

Couldn't you find it?"

The Texan rasped "I found it alright. They wouldn't let me in without a tie."

One afternoon a man came home from work to find total mayhem in his house. His three children were outside, still in their pajamas, playing in the mud, with empty food boxes and wrappers strewn all around the front yard.

The door of his wife’s car was open, as was the front door to the house.

Proceeding into the entry, he found an even bigger mess. A lamp had been knocked over, and the throw rug was wadded against one wall. In the front room the TV was loudly blaring a cartoon channel, and the family room was strewn with toys and various items of clothing. In the kitchen, dishes filled the sink, breakfast food was spilled on the counter, dog food was spilled on the floor, a broken glass lay under the table, and a small pile of sand was spread by the back door.

He quickly headed up the stairs, stepping over toys and more piles of clothes, looking for his wife. He was worried she may be ill, or that something serious had happened. He found her lounging in the bedroom, still curled in the bed in her pajamas, reading a novel. She looked up at him, smiled, and asked how his day went.

He looked at her bewildered and asked, “What happened here today?”

She again smiled and answered, “You know every day when you come home from work and ask me what in the world I did today?”

“Yes” was his incredulous reply.

She answered, “Well, today I didn’t do it.”

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When Life Hands You Lemons....Just Say Thanks Lemons have a high Vitamin C Content. Vitamin C boosts in- and fasten. fection fighting white blood cells, which directly fight viruses and bacteria.

Bad Breath - Lemons can freshen your breath after 8 Things Lemon Juice Can do For Your Health consuming certain spices, alcohol, cigarettes or that is caused by insufficient salivation.

Settling the Stomach - Lemon juice has an alkalizing effect within the body.

Bug Bites - If a stinger is still in the skin, take it out with a pair of tweezers. Massage one or two drops of lemon oil, mixed with Skin Tone - Due to the high levels of antioxidants and Vitamin one teaspoon of honey into the skin around the bite.

C, lemons support healthy and glowing skin.

Pain - Lemon oil has pain-relieving qualities, so to inhibit inAnxiety - Research has shown that lemon balm has a calming ef- flammation and ease pain, massage the affected area daily with fect and may help remove fatigue, exhaustion, dizziness, anxiety, several drops of lemon oil mixed with one tablespoon jojoba oil. nervousness, and tension.

Colds and Flu - The healing power of lemons works both interCorns and Calluses - Lemon poultices applied overnight are a nally, by supply urgently required Vitamin C to you defense cells, home remedy to remove corns and calluses. Place a slice of lem- and externally, through the application of its antiviral properties on approximately five millimeters thick on the corn, bandage, to the virus on the mucous membranes in the nose and throat.

Budget Cuts Next Month, the Immigration Department will start deporting seniors (instead of illegals) in order to lower Social Security and Medicare costs.

Older people are easier to catch and less likely to remember how to get back home.