I Am Not Late

Bat Rescue

2010-06-22T09:05:00.006-04:00

Living in the woods, we often see a variety of creatures around the house. Deer and wild turkeys are common, foxes and Sasquatch are a little less frequent. About a year ago, we found a small colony of Little Brown Bats living under our front porch roof. The adults really are small - probably smaller than your hand with their wings outstretched. They hang out under the porch by day, and head out towards our pond at dusk. We've had as few as two and as many as 15 show up to sleep over. Actually, sometimes they don't come home at all, and we can only assume they have another roost close by. We don't mind them taking up residence, and really do like the idea that the little guys feel safe at our house.

On Sunday evening, I noticed something laying across the handle of a hedge clipper I'd left on the porch. It was so small, at first it did not register that it could be anything important. But on closer examination, it was a tiny bat pup. It was so young it didn't have hair and its eyes were not open yet. Teresa and I were shocked! The little guy was just over an inch long, and could have been mistaken for a dried up leaf or a scrap of leather.

He had apparently fallen from the colony 10 feet above him, and was lucky to be alive in my opinion. He had climbed up on the trimmer handle and was trying to get some rest.

After a frantic internet search, we found a local bat rehab expert, and we were able to reach her on the phone. She said that the best thing to do would be to try and get the pup back to his mother. I was a little intimidated by the thought of climbing up to be face to face with a dozen bats, but she said that they would ignore me. She also suggested that I make a hammock out of some nylon screen, and place that just below the colony. That would catch any falling pups, and give the little guy a place to rest until his momma came down to get him.

So, we followed her advice, and I placed the little dude in his new hammock just below the colony. He actually wanted to hang on my gloves, so it took a little gentle manipulation to get him into his hammock. As predicted, the bats didn't mind my presence, and didn't react at all when I placed the pup a few inches from them. I doubt many people have been 6" away from a dozen bats. They are amazing creatures!

We checked back an our later, and the pup was still in his hammock. I had done some more reading in the mean time, and was concerned that he wasn't peeping and calling out for his mother. He could have been cold or dehydrated, so we ran to the store for some Pedialyte. From what we found, unless you have a supply of bat milk, the best thing to give bat pups is Pedialyte or goats milk. We decided to go with Pedialyte since we don't have good goat access here.

I crawled back up the ladder, face to face with the colony again, and gave the pup some warm Pedialyte in a tiny eye dropper. At first he didn't want anything to do with it, but after he woke up a little he really went for it. With a few good swallows of warm liquid, he really came to life and wanted to drink as much as he could. At that point he started to make some tiny clicking noises, and the colony started making similar sounds.

With his new found energy, he started to climb up the screen hammock a little bit, looking for more to drink, and probably searching for his mom too. So, I made a little Pedialyte trail up the wall to the colony. The pup followed the trail, drinking the warm liquid as he crawled up.

Once he got close to the group, one bat moved over a little bit and he headed straight for his momma. As soon as he got to her she groomed him a little bit and he started to nurse. It was one of the most amazing sights I've seen in a long time. Within a minute he had climbed up under his mom and all you could see was the tip of his little wing sticking out.

Teresa wondered if there were more pups in the colony, but they were packed together so tightly there was no way to tell... until later that night. About 10 o'clock we came out with a flashlight. The adults were all out flying around, and we found 5 pups up on the wall.

They were all the same size as the little one we rescued, and seemed to be waiting for momma to get back with dinner.

The next morning, they all had left for their other roost. We'll keep watching for them to come back, and look forward to the pups getting bigger.

just a rant and random thoughts

2009-09-15T09:21:00.006-04:00

I'm having trouble with little words. I think it's natural to think that big words would cause us plenty of trouble. Take ribonucleotide reductase or acetylsalicylic... those words should knock me over. No, the words that are causing consternation are and, or, we...

I've been a little disheartened lately. I have got to stop watching the news. I think I could handle an economic meltdown, or a health care crisis, or political bickering, or blatant corporate greed, or reckless zealotry, or incapacitating injustice accepted as right and embraced as the better path. The problem is that it is not "or". It is "and". All of this at once is a bit much to digest and make sense of.

What happened to Hope and Yes We Can? I have a feeling that the problem is the WE. It's like Tommy Lee Jones said to Will Smith in the first Men In Black movie - "A person is smart; people are dumb, panicky, dangerous animals and you know it." Look at what we are doing - we are taking up sides and making "us and them", and making it easy to hate based on a perception of beliefs.

It seems that polarization fear are permeating everywhere, and I'm not used to that. People taking up sides and treating politics like religion... or turning religion to politics. Actually, I'm glad it is shocking to me. I suppose the alternative is that I become so used to it that I become numb.

As long as we "know" that we are right, that makes someone else wrong, and we have to do something about that, right? When you boil everything down to its root motivation, every thought and action is seated in either love or fear. When I look around me, I see a lot of fear and fearful actions as a result of it. We act harshly on what we "know" is right. It makes me think of Men in Black again - "1500 years ago, everybody knew that the Earth was the center of the universe. 500 years ago, everybody knew that the Earth was flat. And 15 minutes ago, you knew that humans were alone on this planet. Imagine what you'll know tomorrow."

I recently learned that even Buddhists have taken up sides and are at each others throats over petty ancient issues. How does that make any sense at all? I suppose that even the most peaceful among us can be coerced into oppressing another.

... but it does reinforce one thing. While we can follow the teachings of great philosophers and leaders, groups of followers over time will generally corrupt as they institutionalize. When I look at any organized religion, there seems to be a dark history and controversy within. But, that does not taint the original teaching and example of Buddha, Muhammad or Jesus. The things that a follower does in the name of ________ are likely not a reflection upon the initiator of the faith. It reminds me of a bumper sticker I saw "I like Jesus but I don't care much for his fans..."

I think that the great philosophers were able to transcend so many of the issues of this physical world that bog us down - fear, hate, greed, violence - but it is few of the followers that are able to reach anything near that level of transcendence. People filter and interpret in many ways just to justify themselves. So, that leaves the bulk of folks wallowing around down here trying to make the best of it as they react in fear/hate/greed rather than overcoming it.

Zealotry is on the rise, and people seem to be not just content, but excited to build walls and create borders to keep out people that "threaten" them. As we view this polarization, we have a choice to participate... or even how we participate. I think it's possible to be in the middle of the mess and gently coerce our frightened peers back from the fringes to something that's closer to what Buddha/Muhammad/Jesus intended. I'm not talking about holding up a giant "John 3:16" sign at a ball game, but a gentle nudge and peaceful example... and maybe a well placed question every now and then.

I will be happy when people stop beating plowshares into swords and pruning hooks into spears, and realize they could use that plowshare to feed the hungry stranger that has been waiting, lying at our feet.

So, we keep on keeping on. Love each other, especially those that are hard to love. Be assured that there is a good path to be found, and it is worth the search. In all, you and I must have a positive impact on those around us. That is imperative and a good thing.

I still have a lot to learn about this mess we live in the midst of, but, when the student is ready, the teacher will appear. I need to have the mind of the student and the awareness to know when the teacher arrives. That would be remarkable, I think. And, in the mean time I'm turning off the TV and putting on some Beatles or Cat Stevens. Maybe that can rekindle some hope that love will win over power.

My night in jail.

2009-03-09T09:26:00.006-04:00

I had a life changing experience last night. I spent a little over an hour in Brown County Jail. I was lucky because I got to go home at the end of the night. I was there with Rick, Bob and Ron from Nashville Christian Church, also known as the band "The Barnstormers". We were there to have a worship service with some of the inmates. We would play our guitars, sing some songs, and Rick would have a message with some scripture.

Rick is the pastor at NCC, and the leader of the band. He's done prison ministry for a while, and I was quite happy to go along with him when he invited me to jail. I didn't have much of an expectation of the evening, other than looking forward to playing guitar for a little while.

Because of my job, I know a lot of statistics about the corrections system. It's really quite sobering in many respects. Did you know:

In Indiana 1 in 31 people are either incarcerated or on parole?
Indiana ranks #6 in the nation in it's percent of population in the correctional system.
In Brown County, nearly 90% of offenders are in on drug related offenses.
There is a 70% recidivism rate.
A child has a 70% chance of being incarcerated if they have a parent that has been in jail.
The corrections system bases it's ten-year growth plan, in part, on 3rd grade test scores. They know that low scores for eight year old kids means they will need more jails when those children turn 18.

I have only been to the jail one other time - to be fingerprinted for a gun license. As you pass through the automatic doors and hear them latch behind you as a voice on a speaker tells you to proceed... it feels otherworldly. You are completely at the mercy of that disembodied voice on the speaker. You do what they say.

We got to the jail and went through the control doors to the little area that is used for chapel services. If you forgot yourself for a moment, the concrete block walls could have been anywhere - a school or community center maybe - but the steel reinforced doors and large automatic locks would quickly snap you back to reality.

When the inmates came in, I didn't quite know what to think. There were nearly twenty guys in black and white stripes. They came in quickly and quietly to take their seats. I had never been so close to so many guys in stripes. Should I be afraid? Are they dangerous? These guys are criminals - thieves, murderers, drug dealers - hardened criminals. These are numbers in stripes that are doing their time for society, away from the rest of us to keep us safe. To be near these criminals is to stare danger in the face, right? Even in a controlled environment, one of these guys could beat me to death with my guitar before a guard could get in and stop them. At least that's what Cops and American Justice TV tells you.

I was not afraid.

If you took away the stripes for a minute, this was any other group of guys. They laughed and joked with Rick and Bob, whom they have gotten to know over the last few months. They leafed through the photocopied song books and immediately started asking for particular songs. They especially looked forward to the songs about freedom. Not as a cliche, not about escape... but to be free on many levels - certainly from the bonds of prison, but also from the bonds that may restrain them on a spiritual and emotional level. I sensed that they wanted their hearts to be free.

We played songs for about half an hour, with the guys shouting out requests and singing loudly along with the tunes. It was simple music from a couple of guitars and a trumpet, but to these guys it may have sounded like an orchestra. I was taken by their excitement over the music, their appreciation and participation. How many times have we sat in church and mealy-mouthed through the words, just waiting for the next moment we can sit back down?

After the music Rick's message was about grace and faith, and the guys were very engaged. There were several in particular that had comments and questions, and really interacted. It hit me that these guys didn't have to be there. They could have been back in their cell block playing cards or something. Even if they were doing it to "look good" to someone, they didn't have to be interested or engaged.

At the end of the chapel service, we all stood to form a circle, held hands and prayed together. I held the hand of a guy in stripes as he prayed for us. Many prayed thanks that we had come to play in worship with them. The other prayers made me forget the stripes and walls, and feel that we were in any other church small group.

Now, understand for a minute - some of these guys are going away to the big prison in Michigan City or Terre Haute. Dangerous places. Some of them may have done very bad things. And they are the church. Let me say that again. These men ARE the church. they are the body of Christ, saved by grace and forgiven... just like us on the outside. They are a source of light to their fellow prisoners. As we are to our community, so they are to theirs.

I was in a room with a 15 year old murderer, a 30 year old meth dealer, and sixteen other guys that have infracted the law... and for that hour I was part of their church. To worship, praise and seek The Lord just like the rest of us.

We are so conditioned by our society - TV, movies, the news - to adopt a view that these criminals are merely that - just criminals. It is easier to view them as the stereotype. When someone is only a label, we can put them away and relegate them to that section of our mind that says "they got what was coming", "they deserve what ever they get". When someone is dehumanized, we don't really give a shit what happens to them. Is that really justice?

As we stood in the circle and prayed, I cried. There was other sniffling in the room, but I cried. I cried for buying into the stereotype and forgetting that these men are people - sons and fathers. For buying into the belief that they are hardened, unfeeling bastards that are evil incarnate. I cried for their families that are separated from them for a very long time. I cried because I know when they get out, they will have it worse than when they went in - no job, no home, often abandoned by family, no credibility. Nobody hires an ex-con.

I cried because no one knows that this is the church. I felt more honesty and sincere desire for Christ in that room than in many years of services in other churches.

As followers of Christ, he tells us to care for the widows and orphans, and to visit the prisoners. He tells us that we will find HIM there. When Jesus lived, he spent his time with the sinners, not with the pharisees. He asks us to do the same. While we can have some wonderful worship in church with our peers and a message from the pulpit, I will tell you with all certainty that it is a magnitude better when you seek Christ with the poor and oppressed. It is not something you deliver to them, it is something that you seek and experience with them. That is more difficult than dropping off a box of sandwiches to the homeless mission, isn't it? It requires you to get your hands dirty and actually know these people. To see them as human, just like you. Their address and bank account do not define them any more than yours does of you.

As we prayed in that circle, our little group may have brought music and a message to those men, but they helped us see Christ in a very real way. It was a time to learn about forgiveness, faith and grace. If we believe those things, then how can we seek retribution? It is simple to seek vengeance against a number or a stereotype, but not against a man. Not when you see his face and know his name. Not when he sincerely prays for you and you for him.

I have learned that justice, penance and rehabilitation are not the same thing, and as it is applied by our system, they may be wholly unrelated. I know that we need laws in our society for order and suppression of chaos. I know that I was not in a jail that houses the "worst of the worst", and that there are some very dangerous characters out there. But YOU need to know that it is as wrong to paint these men with a single wide brush as it is to do the same thing on our side of the barbed wire fence.

With that, I will simply leave you with a few questions:

How can it be called "Justice" when our justice system leaves ruination and dispair in its wake? When prisoners exit the system, it is nearly impossible to find work due to their prison record. How does this make society a better place?
Most crimes are out of desperation. As our economy spirals down, crimes and violence are on the rise due to desperate situations. If our justice system causes prisoners to enter a ready-made desperate situation upon exit, then how does that do anything besides breed MORE CRIME?
Long sentences for petty crime causes lives to collapse - far beyond what would be "just". A five year sentence for a little bit of pot really leads to the collapse of family and a life-long inability to find work. Is that justice?
A startling percentage of people in prison are there on drug offenses - with a recidivism rate over 70%. Drug treatment has a better success rate AND a lower cost (both up-front cost and long-term cost to society and the individual). How can we support a system that is so discructive?
As Christians, do we not have a responsibility to be a catalyst for forgiveness? To seek justice? To visit the widows, orphans and prisoners?
As followers of Christ, do we have a responsibility to speak out against a broken system advocate for those that no longer have a voice?

Important Lessons From 2008.

2008-12-01T08:28:00.000-05:00

Even though the year is only 11/12ths over at the time of this writing, I'm already reflecting on the 2008 experience. As it turns out, I did learn a few things this year.
Here's the list for 2008, as I recall it:

From a distance, bravery and stupidity can look pretty much the same.
Don't leave a hammer on top of your ladder... when you are going to stand under the ladder and move it.
A bad day playing guitar is better than a good day in a cubicle.
Never underestimate the Speed of Stupid. e=mc^2/IQ
Never go to your bee hives to feed your bees wearing sandals. And, if you do, don't spill the sugar syrup on your feet.
One bee INSIDE your bee suit is much more dangerous that 50,000 outside of your suit.
An angry bee can fly faster than you can run... with a bee suit wadded up around your ankles.
A backhoe is not a toy.
Covering your Check Engine light with black tape is NOT the same as fixing the car.
That guy in Nigeria with $30 million to split with me probably doesn't have the money, but he is awfully fun to mess with via email.
A lousy craftsman blames his tools. A bad musician blames his instrument.
Take the time to seek the silence between the notes.
Lighten up. Seriously.
There is no better gift than love, but hospitality is a close second.
If you don't understand unconditional love, let my dog sit in your lap for a minute.
Even your worst enemy has a best friend... somewhere.... Can you believe that? (but he's probably an asshole too)
Embrace the crazy.
The art of music is not learning a foreign language, but discovering my native tongue that had been inadvertently misplaced.
Have some guts, why don't 'cha? No body ever got anywhere cool by being safe.
Working your tail off does not guarantee success, but sitting on your ass does guarantee failure.

That's it for now. I'll add more as I continue to recall the wonder and glory that was 2008. Feel free to post any you think of in the comments section.
Please enjoy the rest of this lame-duck month as we roll head-long into 2009!
-CW

i don't know what else to say

2008-09-19T21:20:00.003-04:00

why don't people love each other more? seriously.
why can't we have compassion for each other, and act on it?
why can't we be good to one another?
why can't we share without a second thought?
why can't we try to build each other up, rather than tear each other down?
what happened to altruism?
what happened to truth and justice?

why don't we trust each other?

Why? I'll tell you why. It's because secretly, we fear that the evil we know, that lives deep in our own hearts, is in our neighbors heart too. And we don't trust them not to act on it.

i am sick to death of greed.
i am sick of anger and hatred.
i am sick of deceit.

i don't know what else to say.
let's all try to be good to each other, or if we can't manage that, at least 'better' to each other.

2008-09-14T09:17:00.005-04:00

I have to admit, today I'm pooped. We are recovering from a full day of activity in town yesterday. It was the 4th Annual Nashcar Race and County Picnic in Nashville. The event was put on by the We Care Gang, to benefit people in need of food and shelter in our community. It was a really good time, and major kudos go out to the We Care Gang for putting on a first-class event. http://www.wecaregang.org

The events of the day included a short parade of the 9 race teams, highly competitive corn-hole and plunger toss games, and the feature event - the Outhouse Races. Yes, you read that correctly, we were racing outhouses. (insert potty-humor joke here).

Our team was racing for the Brown County Community Foundation. Other teams were from Habitat for Humanity, Bear's Hardware, "The Pirates", Brown County Solid Waste, and others.
Our team consisted of Chuck "Crash" Wills, "Richie Bobby" Wallace, Gas-Man Garrett Higbee and the world famous Teresa Turbo as our fearless driver.

The competition was really tough. Seriously. Garrett and Richie Bobby started the corn-hole competition for our team, and quickly worked their way through the heats to the final round, only to be severely trounced by Hills-O-Brown Realty team. Those guys took no prisoners and cleaned up 21 to 0. We ended up in 2nd place, which is pretty good for our first year in the game.

The real focus of the event - besides the amazing smoked pork sandwiches - was the Outhouse Race. Teresa Turbo worked her strategy of intimidation to psych-out the other racers. She was in full safety gear - helmet, neck brace, fireproof gloves and overalls. In the first round she piloted us to 3rd overall, beating the other 6 outhouses by a wide margin. We made it to the next-to-last round, where we came in 4th overall.

You can see more pictures by clicking here

It was a day of great fun, food, friends and competition. The day was rounded out by amazing music from The Thunder Club. The We Care Gang did an excellent job, and raised nearly $6000 for folks in our county.

Great job everyone, and we'll be back next year!

I am a vegitarian.

2008-08-04T09:41:00.007-04:00

I have been thinking about sustainable living for several years now. It's not enough to buy an SUV that uses slightly less gas, or use a canvas sack to carry bottled water from the grocery store to the Hummer. It seems that "Green" has been co-opted by the masses, and diluted to the level where it's easily consumed without much effort. People think "I'm green because I use organic soap", and they still eat food that's shipped half way around the world... which is decidedly *not* green.

Life has been made easy in the past few decades, with cheap petroleum and convenience stores full of slim-jims, and it's obvious that society in general is resistant to making changes towards sustainability. Our current way of life is unsustainable in the long haul, and people need to not only face the facts, but make personal changes right away.

I am committed to do my part.
Some time ago, I latched on to the idea of "food miles" - how far your grub is transported before you eat it - and I committed to eat as "locally" as possible. I shop at the local farmer's market and eat seasonal stuff. It's really a good way to become more connected to the earth and to support your neighbors and local farmers. THIS is the future people!

Well, I'm making one more commitment, and that is to become a vegetarian.

I have looked at all the permutations of plant eaters, from the start of history until now. I started by researching the Brachiosaurus to find out about ancient vegetarians, and then studied the deer that currently eat all of the plants in my yard.

My research revealed that there are currently several categories of vegetarian people:

There are vegan people - they only eat plants that we're lightly killed, and they seem particularly proud of the fact that their food "never had a face". I guess that takes pumpkin pie right off the menu for them, with jack-o-lanterns and Halloween and everything. Mr. Potato head too. I shudder when I think of what their reaction would be to the Planter's Peanut guy. I think vegan's are most green, since they pretty much only eat things that are green. You are what you eat!!

Next on my list was the Ovo-Lacto crowd. These people eat eggs and dairy. I think it's probably true that ovo-lacto people can make a hell of a spinach omelet, since that's pretty much all I can think of doing with eggs and dairy and green veggies. I guess ice cream is probably ok for them, as long as it doesn't have any animal shaped candy bits in it.

After looking at these options, I'm not sure that I quite fit in within the confines of their narrow niche. So, I'm taking the best of all of them and striking out with my own branch on the vegetarian tree:

I am an Ovo-Lacto-Herbivoro Vegetarian.
Like the Vegan, I eat the tasty plants without a face, and I lightly kill them before consumption. If I'm feeling edgy, I don't kill them at all. I ate a live green bean last week and thought I may have heard it whimper. It was fresh baby! And like the Ovo-lactos I eat dairy products, too. Especially ice cream with chocolate sauce! MMMmmm!

It got interesting when I added "Herbivoro" to the list. I decided it was prudent to have some meat in my vegetarian diet, so I added animals that don't eat meat. The Herbivores. Meat is a great source of protein, but I wanted to be politically correct, and most of all "Green" in selecting the right ones. I do believe that being a vegetarian is going to save the planet, and it's more green than any other diet option, so I'm only eating vegetarian animals.

When you look at the carnivorous animals, it's really appalling. I mean, lions and tigers and wolves pretty much hunt down their prey and eat them alive! I can't support that! Can you? That's why I'm committed to eating only plant-eating animals. If you really "are what you eat", then I want to eat animals that hold the same vegetarian value system as me. I really don't see any other solution.

So, nice grass fed beef, or maybe a pig that's had some corn - they both happily fit on my plate. But, due to their abysmal life style I will not eat cougars or rattle snakes. Alligators and croc's are right off the menu, as are bald eagles and leopards.

I hope that you have found the results of my research as enlightening as I have. With a little help, I think Ovo-Lacto-Herbivoro can really have an impact on our country and our long term sustainability as a culture. It's obviously the "Green" thing to do.

And on that note... I did see another deer eating my raspberry bushes this morning. Deer are plant eaters, right? Here, Bambi.......

p.s. Some have questioned me about fish. Fish often eat other fish... so are they on the "good" list or the "bad" list? Does that make them carnivores? I contend that fish are not exactly animals, so it's OK to eat them. Fish don't really have a consciousness like a dog or anything. Have you ever tried to play fetch with a fish? It doesn't work, and half the time I ended up with the aquarium knocked on the floor, which is no good for me or the fish.

So, in closing, fish are not animals, but they are meat. Eat up everybody!!!

Two bees or not two bees... the story of my swarm

2008-05-21T23:37:00.014-04:00

As if I don't have enough to keep me busy, I seem to have picked up a new hobby in the last few months. My name is Chuck, and I am a bee keeper.

For over a year, my good buddy CJ had been telling me about his bee hives and how much fun they were. He had so many cool stories about being stung, and relating bee culture to The Borg and communism... how could I resist? Any time we can bring Star Trek, Carl Marx and venomous creatures into the same conversation, I'm going to be intrigued.

So I got approval from Teresa Turbo to set up a hive - as long as it was away from the house and away from neighbors, as everyone assumes that my "killer bees" will eat their children and carry away their pets. I ended up picking a spot that was next-door to the middle of nowhere. Obviously chosen for its easy access and convenient proximity to places I don't go.

CJ set me up with a hive from a friend of his, I bought a bee suit and a copy of Bee Keeping for Idiots... and next thing I knew I was a bee keeper. I set up the hive, opened the lid and though "Dear God, this looks nothing like the book". It was going to be a crash course, for sure.

Fast forward one month since the hive touched down:

The bees and I have been getting along fine. I leave them alone and they don't sting me. It was a perfect relationship. Until today.

This afternoon I went out to the bee yard to see what was going on, and things seemed quiet. A little too quiet. Nobody was flying around the hive, rather, there were a few just hanging out in the entrance taking a siesta. That's when I saw it - about 10 feet away, across the barbed wire fence on the neighbors property there's a big post that's covered in woody vines - and on it my bee colony had swarmed. The mass of bees was a little larger than a football. Nice.Some quick advice from CJ was to "get a box and knock them into it." He also stressed that it was important to get the queen. That's pretty easy, since she looks almost exactly like the other 20,000 bees that are hanging on the shrubbery, right?

So I donned the bee suit, opened a big storage tub, and hoped for the best. The good news is that the post was at eye level, and the bees were pretty calm. If they had been 30 feet up in a tree, I would have just ordered more bees. The bad news was that the bees were all around the intertwined shrubbery, and the post was wrapped with barbed wire. This was not going to be easy for the new guy.

The easiest thing to do was to rip out sections of the shrub so I could zero in on the center of the swarm. But even with that, it was still not possible to knock them all in at once.

I was able to scoop the majority of them into the box in one move. I had no idea if the queen was in that group, so I just kept at it. CJ said that they would follow the queen, so if I got her, the rest would just tag along eventually. No such luck. After a few minutes of this there were bees in the box, bees outside the box, bees on the post and bees in the air. They seemed pretty confused, so I decided to take a break.

You know, the sound of a swarm is unique, and surprisingly loud - think of it as 20,000 little fluorescent lamps with bad ballasts. But as I walked away from the swarm, the sound didn't get any softer. I looked in at my reflection in the truck window and was startled to see that about 1/3 of the swarm was now calling the back of my bee suit home.

Is this really how it's supposed to go for a new bee keeper?

Another call to CJ (hey man, what's that sound - it sounds like you are inside an electric motor!), and he suggested that I simply open up the box and jump up and down next to it to knock the bees in. A combination of jumping jacks and a long handled bee brush got most of them into the box. You know, the neighbors thought I was eccentric before I was doing calisthenics in a Hazmat suit. I wonder what they think now?

I went back to check on them and do a final collection just after sundown. I was able to scoop up a few more straglers, but it appears that I got the majority of them in the box. At that point I realized that the only way I could get them home, and into a new hive, was to put them in the back seat of my SUV. How would you feel about sharing a ride with 20,000 new friends? Ok, what if they all had stingers?

I feel very fortunate that I wasn't pulled over on the way home. Living in a small town, unusual things often make the local paper. And I was driving home with a truck full of bees wearing a full bee suit. My guess is that qualifies as unusual around here. On the plus side, I now have a 2nd hive, and zero stings from the swarm collection!

Kayaks on the rocks

2008-03-06T20:54:00.008-05:00

Well, it's a month ago to the day since my fledgling flight into the blogosphere. It looks like we all survived that first trip with only a few scrapes, so I thought I'd give it another try.

Three years ago I started kayaking. It instantly became my summer addiction, sort of like a 14 foot plastic crack pipe. I paddled every waterway I could find and was really quite disappointed when cold weather set in to curtail my watery expeditions.

This winter I've been plotting and planning to start kayaking again in the spring. All of the gear was hanging in the garage waiting to hit the water, and I've been hitting every paddling outfitter in central Indiana to see if there would be any deals to be had before the season started.

Much to my delight, I gained two new kayak buddies over the winter. Sara J has been a good friend for... well... a long time, and I was really thrilled to find out that she had gotten herself a kayak a few months ago. She spends part of each summer on a lake in Canada, and started paddling up there last year. She found a deal on a boat down here in Indy, so now she can paddle here as well as "the great white north".

My other new kayak buddy is Elizabeth. She actually works with my wife as a coffee guru at Starbucks, but we've got a lot of common interests too. She's an avid environmentalist and a great kayaker as well.

So the three of us paddlers have been in mothballs all winter, braving the cold and waiting for our moment to hit the water again. We've been to our favorite outfitters to at least soak up some good paddling vibes while we wait on winter to knock it off and spring to hurry up and get on with it.

You can probably imagine our excitement when the weather forecast for last weekend included temps around 60* and sunny! Actually, down here in Nashville the temps were predicted as "low 60's", and we were taking every degree that the weather man would give us. Not a bad forecast for the first weekend in March... through I can't help but think the warmth was due in part to the extra day of February that leap year had given us.

So, we planned a Major Springtime Paddling Event. We'll call it "Late Winterish Paddlefest '08"... and yes, we're still talking about kayaking! Sunday brunch, followed by a nice kayak expedition around Yellow Wood Lake. We got together here in Brown County for roasted vegi frittata, home made pancakes and mimosas, then loaded up to hit the water.

Elizabeth decided to stay back at the house and help Teresa maintain the fragile drinks-to-pancakes ratio rather than kayak with us outdoor crazies. I have to admit, it was a tempting choice to stay on the deck with a drink... but Sara J and I decided to persevere and pack up for the big waters of Yellow Wood. So, with the gear loaded into the truck we headed out.

Sara and I got to the lake, parked up in the trees near the boat ramp, and took our time unloading and getting our gear ready for what promised to be some very cold water. It was about a 30 yard walk around the corner and down the boat ramp, so I packed my remaining gear into my boat and started to carry it down to the waters edge.

I got within about 10 feet of the water, looked out across the lake, and saw nothing but ice! Even with days of warm weather, Yellow Wood was frozen up like a TV dinner. It almost didn't register at first because months of anticipation refused to let my subconscious take it all in. We had planned this trip for some time, taking all the precautions for cold water kayaking... except for the key step of making sure the water is liquid and not solid!

There was a couple in a car that had been watching us for about 15 minutes, and they were quite amused that we intended to paddle and not skate. I cursed them under my breath and set the boats on the ice just to see what would happen... and the wind nearly sent my boat skating across the ice to the middle of the lake. Well, all I can say is "what's the point of starting to make good decisions at this point in the adventure?"

Sara thought about paddling ice-breaker style, but the crust was about 1" thick, and was just impenetrable by anything that is paddle powered. So, we packed back up and returned to my warm sunny deck to aid in the maintenance of the all important alcohol-to-snack ratio that we had entrusted Teresa and Elizabeth with. As a souvenire, we brought back a 5 pound chunk of Yellow Wood Lake with us.

So, winter won that round, but it won't be able to hold on for too much longer. And next time I may just double check the actual water conditions before the next paddling extravaganza.

(Thanks to Sara J for the pix!!)

The dawn of technology as viewed from my tin can and string

2008-02-06T20:16:00.001-05:00

I never really considered what might be the inspiration of my first blog post. It had never crossed my mind... until I lost my internet connection today. Boy, what a reality check that is. Suddenly no e-mail, no Google, no CNN, no RSS feed of the up-to-the-second report on Britney.

Unfortunately, the cause of my connection loss was beyond my control. You see, I live in the woods in a rural county. That means my neighbors have cool things like guns, hunting dogs, canons, bulldozers... and my neighbor with the bulldozer K-O'd my connection to civilization. Damn it.

With one misstep of his blade, my little DSL connection was toast. Done in by a wacko with a backhoe. Hey man, what happened to "call before you dig?"

So, suddenly I found myself alone in the woods with no umbilical to the mother-ship. After the tremors of info-deprivation subsided, I remembered that it's possible to exist outside of the cyber realm. Sort of.

With nothing better to do, I started to ponder how this whole tech thing got started, and came to a startling conclusion. What started this whole "information now all the time culture" is The Fax Machine!

Actually, I think the fax is the lynch-pin in the downward spiral of the family and our over-worked modern culture. Think about it - with the fax, suddenly we could get actual documents across the country (or world?) in a few seconds. Before that, snail mail was the only way to go... and we didn't really consider it "snail" at that point. Overnight package service was a serious luxury. You got to sit and wait, and there was such a thing as "after hours" where people could have a private, personal life. 6pm was dinner time with the family and work was a distant recollection. People had boundaries, time for non-career pursuits... it was the stuff of dreams.

Then came the fax - we could communicate across vast distances with something beyond conversation... and people could work more, from more places. The expectation of availability and productivity started down a slippery slope.

Fast forward 30+ years, and to me it seems there's a direct correlation between the dawn of the fax... followed by dial-up modem computer communication... and pagers... and cell phones... and e-mail...

And now Jr High School kids want a blackberry. To me, it has slowly evolved into an instant-access/24-hour "i want it now" culture. It's just not healthy, as the normal boundaries of human relationship are blurred by this encroaching expectation on productivity and limitless communication excess.

So, back to my no-DSL situation. There is an up-side to this. In my little town, the only place that has WiFi at this time of day is the local tavern. So, here I sit with my frosty bourbon-cask ale, along with my neighbors (with the notable exception of the wacko with the backhoe). What started as a search for a surrogate cyber connection has resulted in ACTUAL CONTACT WITH HUMANS THAT LIVE NEAR ME.

What an unexpected twist of fate. And not one fax machine to be seen anywhere.