Tractors and Trailers

So, just what is in a name I ask you. If I say the word 'tree', which one popped into your head? Or if I say 'cow' which one appeared that time?

For us to have a meaningful communication then words must be chosen very carefully so as to impart the idea that we wish to convey. Is that heavy or what? When you read the title to this post was this the image that appeared in your mind? It's ok because as a young boy/man I worked this kinda combo on the farm. We did not have a cab or a radio or A/C like this tractor no doubt is equipped. No sirree, the tractors I worked were more of the cook your brains while depleting as much sweat out of your body and breath as much dust into your lungs kinda tractor. I hate farm work.

No, this is what I had in mind for a tractor. My Pete. A whole different idea don't you think? As an exercise google this: tractor trailer. What you get are site after site about OTR rigs like mine. Even for google searches you have to be very specific in the words you use. Now go back to your search and add to front the word 'farm'. Your search string should look like this: farm tractor trailer. Different sites right?



All this leads into my nonuse of the word 'diet'. I don't do diets. Why? Because they fail. First in your mind then on your hips. There is no one that I know that has been on a successful diet. No one. Sure, you lose pounds for a short while. But it comes back and more. I am on a food management program. It's planned. It's flexible. And it's mine. I have reprogrammed my outlook about food and life. That is very different than a 'diet'.



Now, I need a trailer for my Pete. I think this will do just fine.

Peaches and Noses

Many years ago we lived in a little bump on the map known as East Gate, just outside Dayton, Texas, which is east of Houston. Specifically in a farm house owned by the Lessakers (man I mangled that last name but that is how it sounded!). It was a magical place for a boy.

Spring time in East Texas is such a quiet time because of the fog. So thick you can't see the hand at the end of your outstretched arm. Sound is muffled and visions of buildings and things are like seeing them through a gauze, if you see them at all. I remember the walks down that long shell driveway early in the mornings. I could usually see about 20 yards and the temperature was mostly cool and comfortable (not the case in August!). Fog is such a great medium to stimulate a young boy's imagination: what was that sound, what was that that just walked across the drive in front, is someone waiting on the other side of that tree. Man, I loved mornings because they were almost always to myself. I was free to be whatever my mind could make up. It was one adventure after another in the Spring.

But what was really special for me was my time that I spent with Mom and Dad on the front porch. We had lots of discussions and Dad taught me so much about life and politics and family and values and work and Mom taught about learning and helping and doing your best and honesty. My most vivid memory however was watching Mom and Dad interact with each other. I doubt if there was ever a couple more in love and devoted to one another. On that porch I learned about giving and trusting and loving a life mate.

It would be late in the afternoon, near time for the sun to give it up for the moon. Dad would have been home for a few hours and supper would have been fixed, eat, and chores done. The heat of the day would still be in the house so the only logical place was the front porch by the peach tree. And that is where we would settle. and talk. and play. Mostly tho I would watch. Dad would have his head in Mom's lap, reclined down the porch steps. Mom would run her hands over Dad's short cropped hair, massaging the day's tension away. All the while talking about this that and the other thing. Eventually, Mom would work on Dad's face. Squeezing pimples out and such. Especially around the nose, I was always amazed how much that needed attention.

We didn't watch a great deal of television back then. Maybe there wasn't much to watch in the first place. There ain't nothin that can take the place of the real life I was experiencing. Man, I miss that porch.

Raw Eggs and Cinnamon

I'm not one to hug a tree or bleed my emotions all over someone. Just ask anyone who knows me. I don't take serious some busy body telling me how to do a thing so as to save the planet or what all if that busy body drives a Volvo or hybrid and thinks that they are superior in some way and are saving the planet or what all. Come on, a car is a car. And let me tell ya another secret, there is no such device or animal known to man that don't pollute. You breath, you pollute. Get a horse and see what you step in all day. Read all your whining left leaning blogs on the internet instead of the paper ones? Guess what, you are the worst kind of polluter. The electricity to run your computer came from somewhere. It took big industry to produce your computer. I could go on and on.

So, what does all this have to do with raw eggs and cinnamon? Lots. If I recommend something that is good for you and your health you know I do that because it works. I've done it. I'm not doing it to make me look good politically or what ever. I believe in results. If it could be shown that hugging trees will impart by osmosis some health intensifying remedy, I'd do it all day long! I'm glad to report the following:

• raw eggs are good for you. They are tasteless tho somewhat sweet!


• cinnamon helps to increase insulin tolerance.


• stevia is a great way to sweeten your food/drinks without calories or carbs!


• your mother was right, eat your veggies.


• cod liver oil and fish oil are a great way to supplement your diet for omega-3


• eat a handful of red grapes every day


• drink a glass of wine every day


• get plenty of sleep


• and so much more!

I am convinced that doing all the above and more has kept me very healthy and even lessened the illness that came over me these past few weeks. My weight is now being maintained near 155, an improvement from 160.

I know some of the things I do seem like a 60's radical hippie thought them up. I don't care. I feel great and look good.

Egg anyone?

Almost Hell Month

I know, I know, it has been awhile since my last post. Seems life just wanted more of my attention. And did it ever.

Do you know what Hell Week is in boot camp? If you're a veteran of any armed service you do. That is the kind of month I've been having.

To begin, I moved. Or we moved that is. As you know moving is very stressful, even with all the planning and coordination and such. But the problem for me anyways was I got sick to boot! Not that laid up in bed high fever cough it hurts everytime you sneeze sick. The low level fever scratchy throat why now kind of sick. Tired. Sleepy. Achy. On a time squeeze. No fun I tell ya.

And the grass needed to be mowed. And the Peterbilt needed attention as well. Fix this. Fix that. Get the monies mailed for permits and tags and the other government fees and such. And I was getting rid of this and that so as not to move it. Sold my car and one of my bikes. Do you realize how difficult it is just to give stuff away? I didn't know charities could be so dadburn picky!

And still, after three weeks I still have this irritating cough. But that's ok, because I know it will go away someday. The reason for my optimism is due to the fact that I continued to do my plan. Walk everyday. Eat the right foods. And in the proper proportion. No matter what is going on in my life I must maintain my health. Because without IT, nothing else matters.

Now, just where did I put that Peterbilt?