NOTES From a Lunchbox . . . and Other Good Things!

Like Raising Children - Time Consuming But Worth It

2012-01-22T17:19:00.000-08:00

Uncle Kimo's Hawaiian Chili

Da Kine for sure . . . . a sweet and tropical chili with just the right amount of hot lava (heat) for audience appeal! Not a quick recipe, but worth the time it takes! Use 6 to 8 quart Dutch oven or large Crock Pot. Allow 90 minutes prep time, and 4 hours cooking time. Serves 8 to 10 Hawaiian Style!

Just a cultural note here. In Hawaii, many times in a social or church setting, folks refer to others as Auntie or Uncle . . . . . so I am Uncle Kimo (James) Here are the groceries needed:

2 to 2 1/2 pounds of thin sliced pork chops
2 T Extra Light Olive Oil
1 can of Ginger Ale
2 large cans of whole tomatoes
2 cans of kidney beans, drained not rinsed
1 can of tomato paste
1 can of black beans, drained not rinsed
1 large Maui Onion chopped fine (Vidalia ok)
2 large carrots, chopped fine
2 green bell peppers - roasted, peeled & seeded
1 small pineapple cut in wedges & grilled Huli Huli style
1 jalapeno pepper seeded & chopped fine
1/3 cup Uncle Kimo's local honey
3 large cloves of garlic, smashed & chopped fine
2 T Hawaiian Shoyu Sauce (light Soy Sauce ok)
2 T ground Cumin
2 T Chili Powder
6 fresh Basil leaves, chopped fine
2 T fresh Thyme leaves removed from stems
2 T fresh Ginger, peeled & grated
1 tsp sea salt
1/4 tsp Cayenne pepper
3 T yellow corn meal

Fire roast bell peppers on gas grill or over gas stove burner until burnt in appearance. Scrape off charred peel, remove seeds, and medium chop. Cut top and bottom from pineapple. Peal with knife, and cut into 8 wedges. Remove core sections. Marinate with Huli Huli sauce

http://www.bbqu.net/season3/302_4.html

in large plastic freezer bag for 10 minutes, and grill until some dark color appears. Canned diced pineapple, drained, ok if you don't have time to grill, but it is sooooo good! NOTE: Either way, pineapple goes in pot only 2 hour prior to serving! You should have about 2 cups of diced pineapple.

Cut bones off of the pork chops. Stack 2 or 3 on cutting board and dice about the size of the tip of your little finger. Put Olive Oil in hot Dutch oven, and add the pork. Stir to separate, and brown. Color will not appear until moisture is cooked off. Keep an eye on this phase so as not to burn. Decide now what you gonna cook chili in, the same Dutch oven or the large Crock Pot. If using the Dutch oven, de-glaze with ginger ale and add canned beans. From here, the ingredients are added same same for either. Dial up high on Crock Pot and add the browned pork, ginger ale, kidney beans black beans and tomato paste. Drain the cans of whole tomatoes into pot. Then take a minute to seed the tomatoes (you won't get them all) and cut off stem end. These are bitter. Now rough chop tomatoes and place in pot. Chop sweet onion medium to fine and add to pot. Scrub or peel carrots, cut in two, halve length ways and fine chop, adding to pot.

Continue adding chopped jalapeno, honey, garlic, Shoyu, Cumin, Chili Powder, Basil, Thyme, Ginger, salt, and Cayenne to the pot. Carefully stir in corn meal a tablespoon at a time while heating, guarding against lumps. On stove top, adjust heat to simmer, stirring often. Leave Crock Pot on high for 2 hours, then turn to low for another 2 hours. Chili should be thick. If too liquid, add more corn meal one tablespoon at a time until desired consistency. If chili is too thick, add small amount of water and stir.

One half hour prior to serving, add diced pineapple to pot. This will assure that the chunks don't turn to mush. Adjust salt to taste. Serve and get local with Uncle Kimo's Hawaiian Chili - no ka oi!!

A woman's Place . . . .

2010-08-12T15:07:00.000-07:00

This will be a post that has as much chance of bombing as it does of being worthy. No one reads this blog anyway, so I guess it is a mute point. I just like to write things down when something moves me. However, having an image or event bring up emotion or feeling in me can just as easily place me in a melancholy funk for days. My mind is so fractured these days . . . unable to process much of what I see happening around me.

I stumbled upon a cache of old photographs converted to digital media from Kodachrome slides taken by photographers for the Farm Security Administration and Office of War Information. They are some of the only color photographs taken of the effects of the Depression on America’s rural and small town populations. I'll single out two of then that have caused me to feel deeply about the women in my life . . . . all women really.

In my old age, I have developed a real appreciation for women. I could ponder for hours about Eve, Mary the mother of Jesus, Mother Teresa, Rosa Parks . . . . Nell Parks, Corenne Parks, Carrie Parks Stuart . . . . and most important to me, Garaleen Parks. Every one of these aforementioned women have a story to tell and have left or are in the process of leaving a legacy of triumph and heartbreak for all who follow. It is plain to me that women are not the "weaker sex" that some say they are. Women are strong in ways most men can only hope for. Some women . . . wives and mothers . . . have had the blessing of not having to work outside the home. They are able to be moms and grandmas full time, building for the future in ways so often unseen by the rest of us. I wish with all my heart that I had taken better care of "business" after Vietnam so that today I could have given my sweet wife of ten years the gift of staying home and raising her 17 year old daughter.

I realize that many women enjoy entering the work force and excel there. I also know that many who are in the trenches every day would rather be home. The reasons that women work are many, and are sometimes compelling. That brings me (finally) to these 2 images of women at work.

This woman is working on a "Vengeance" dive bomber at a plant in Tennessee, February 1943. Look at the nail polish. Why is she working? Patriotism? Children to feed while husband is off to war? No husband? A sense of pride and accomplishment? Did she feel that she had a choice? I don't know, but I appreciate her effort and would love to know her story.

This group of women workers were employed as wipers in the roundhouse having lunch in their rest room, Chicago and Northwest Railway Company, Clinton, Iowa, April 1943. Again, look at them closely . . . . nail polish and bandannas the only visual differences between this lunch table and another seating only men. Where are the men, by the way? Presumably serving in the Pacific or in Europe. These photos are amazing, and they cause a torrent of emotion to hit hard at my consciousness. I love my wife, and I wish things were different for her. I am also very proud of my modern day warrior as she fights the good fight away from our refuge, our home, every work day. She may not pack a rivet gun, but she is strong, and brave, and dedicated to her family. Our world is at war, and the enemy is everywhere, and very skilled. The women in our lives are on the front lines more than we men realize. From Mother Eve, to my angel mother, to my mate and partner . . . . thanks so much ladies!

This Was A Good Day

2010-06-12T23:30:00.000-07:00

Most kids love trains, but this old kid at heart is totally smitten with them, particularly the vintage steam locomotives that used to steam in and out of Ogden 40 or 50 times a day back in the 1940's. Here in my hometown, we are fortunate to have Union Pacific's steam excursions come through most summers, and there is live steam at Promontory and in the Heber Valley.

This photo was taken by my awesome wife as I was welcomed aboard Union Pacific's Challenger 3985 for a run from Evanston to Ogden. If that is not a kid's wide eyed grin, I'll eat your UP cap! We are just about to depart in a cloud of steam and smoke for the ride of my life! Yeah, I fly airplanes and have done so in many venues from crop dusting to combat missions, but this day was above them all.

Here I am down the road in Weber Canyon taking my turn as fireman, keeping one eye on the tea kettle and the other out for the next green light. There is nothing modern in this cab, save be for a UP two way radio run off of a steam generator, a concession to railroad safety. Back in the day, it was all done by semaphore signals and the legendary railroad pocket watch. The scale of this giant marvel of American know how is just as it appears . . . no trick photography. This thing is huge, hot, loud, fast and absent any creature comforts. Even so, I never had such a fine ride in all my years. The stream of cars chasing the train was a half a mile long, and included my fearless wife who had several planned photo stops to try and make during the run, and make them she did!!

I also had the distinct pleasure of submitting an article on steam locomotives to our local news paper. Here is most of that story just for posterity.

Deja Vu Choo Choo
All Over Again
by James Parks

"Ogden’s Union Station will once again play host to an engineering masterpiece from the past. Union Pacific’s Challenger #3985 will steam into town on Monday afternoon for a day and a half layover before proceeding on to Los Angeles. It is not by chance that Ogden continues to enjoy a 'most favored' status by Steve Lee, Manager of Train Operating Practices at Union Pacific Steam Operations, who’s home base is Cheyenne, Wyoming. Union Station’s Executive Director, Bob Geier, has worked hard during his 7 year tenure here to build a strong relationship with the steam crew. Again on this trip, Ogden is the only stop where Challenger will layover an extra day both directions."

“ 'Helping to provide the people here in Ogden a nostalgic railroad experience such as hosting UP’s 3985 is perhaps the most enjoyable facet of my job,” explains Bob. “Everyone loves a train. But to see, hear and smell a steam locomotive is to catch a glimpse of what Ogden was like 50 years ago. Multiply this one engine by 60 or 75, and you can get an idea of what a day in the life of Union Station was all about back then.' ”

"Norman Frost, himself a veteran brakeman on Challengers and a 40 year Union Pacific employee offered his take on why this particular engine was so exceptional. 'It was absolutely the most balanced steam locomotive ever manufactured. It had tremendous power but also possessed remarkable smoothness and speed on the flat. The Big Boy was stronger and the 800's were faster, but neither had the complete package Challenger did.' ”

"Norm is now a volunteer “Conductor” at Union Station and has the distinction of accumulating more hours of service (21,000 and climbing) than any other volunteer at the museum. He spends a lot of his time outside at the compound where several locomotives are on display. Norman’s personal favorite is the Big Blow, a gas turbine locomotive built by General Electric in the 1950's."

“ 'These engines were technically advanced for their time and the later models at 8,500 horse power were the biggest ever built,” says Frost. “It was just a huge jet engine bolted into a locomotive. The exhaust stack was 10 feet across and the jet like roar was deafening! The thing would set any old remaining wooden bridge or tunnel structure on fire and the noise it made would rattle windows 5 miles away.' ”

"Union Pacific was the only line to place these engines into service. For the better part of 2 decades, they hauled fast freight between Council Bluffs, Iowa, and Ogden, where people and windows were less frequent. The Big Blow eventually fell victim to a voracious appetite for fuel oil and ran its last block of track in 1970."

"An impressive list of accomplishments and specifications will accompany Challenger 3985 when it rolls into Ogden next week. According to Union Pacific’s Office of Public Information, 3985 was built in 1943. This locomotive last saw “regular” train service in 1957 and was retired and stored near Cheyenne, Wyoming, in 1962. Volunteer Union Pacific employees banned together and restored 3985 to running condition in 1981."

"Challenger 3985 has a 4-6-6-4 wheel arrangement. The 2 sets of six driving wheels produce 97,350 lbs of tractive power and are 69 inches in diameter. The ever present tender car totes 25,000 gallons of water and 5,945 gallons of No. 5 oil, although coal fired her boilers until 1990. A steam generator provides electrical power for lights and radios. Steam also drives an air compressor for braking. There is no air conditioning package. The men that run steam locomotives were and remain a hardy bunch, unafraid of hard work, heat and grime."

"Modern day steam excursions are not always routine. Last year, Ogden was treated to a very rare “double header” steam trip, where 3985 and 844 arrived together on their way to Railfair 1999 in Sacramento, California. While on display there, 844 had several boiler tubes blow through while the locomotive was being spot-fired. Although a healthy Challenger was perfectly capable of pulling the dead 800 and train back to Cheyenne, a diesel engine was secured as a helper. Seems that 3985 shares the same type flues and stay-bolts as 844 and placing the entire steam program in jeopardy by running 3985 wide open before an inspection could be preformed was just not felt to be prudent."

"This misfortune did yield a unique photo opportunity on the eastbound trip back through Ogden, however. The photo here was taken as the train sped through Uintah with Challenger pushing a late model diesel reluctantly assigned lead position. Even at partial throttle, 3985 puts out an impressive plume of smoke and steam. The steam engine went into inspection and overhaul of several components this past year and is back out on the road in 2000 turning heads again."

I had the opportunity to submit a few stories on various subjects to the news paper, but this was the most memorable for me as they used my photography, and actually paid me for the inches! For some more rail road photos, jump on over to FaceBook and look at my photo album there. I am so thankful for my wife and her willingness to be there for me on my great railroad adventure.

Sugar Grandma and Poppy Day

2010-05-29T10:21:00.001-07:00

Poppies have been associated with warfare since Homer compared a dying Trojan prince to a drooping poppy in the "Iliad" nearly 3,000 years ago. The origins of Poppy Day as it is associated with Memorial Day begin with a poem written by a Canadian Army colonel during the First World War. Colonel John McRae’s “In Flander's Field” was first published in December of 1915 in a British magazine called Punch. The poem expressed the colonel’s grief over the many soldiers who died on the Flander battlefields which were located in an area between western Belgium and Northern France. Colonel McRae is pictured to the left.

In Flander's Fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD (1872-1918)

"In Flander's Fields" left a strong impression on two women – Anna E. Guerin in France and Moina Michael in the US state of Georgia. These two patriots worked hard to sell artificial poppies in order to help children left as orphans or people made impoverished by World War I. In 1922 Moina Michael thought the flowers should be used as a symbol in remembrance of the war. She turned to the Veterans of Foreign Wars (VFW) who helped make the Memorial Day poppy official.

In the 1920s there weren’t enough artificial poppies to go around. So in 1924 a poppy factory was created in Pittsburgh, PA. Unemployed and disabled veterans were employed to create the flowers, thus providing them with a practical way to support themselves. Today veterans continue to create these artificial flowers for Poppy Day – primarily at Department of Veterans Affairs’ medical facilities and veteran homes. These flowers are then distributed by veterans service organizations throughout the nation. Donations received for these flowers help veterans, as well as the widows, widowers, and orphans left behind by those who fell. The Memorial Day poppy itself serves as a way to honor those who died serving their country.

Perhaps you have had the opportunity to have one, to chat a moment with the Veteran passing them out, and to make a donation to the honorable cause. That is my poppy pictured above. Today I went out to our local Stop and Shop for some milk and soda, and Veterans passing out poppies was the furthest thing from my mind. There were two near the store entrance, so I dropped a $5 into the can, and I talked a moment with a Vietnam Navy Vet. Floods of memories came back of Carrie's Sugar Grandma and the scores of artificial poppies that were around my grandparents house every Memorial Day.

This post is therapy for me, and for all who have lost beloved ancestors, and especially for my Daughter Carrie who has, as always, inspired this post. I hope that at least one of these images will be new to her. On this Memorial Day I have been going through old photos, sorting and filing, and some scanning and repair. In a post on Carrie's blog, she mentioned her "Sugar Grandma" so I am posting a series of photos here of Nellie Parks for Carrie to click and save. Carrie's Great Grandmother . . . her Sugar Gramma was an indescribable angel of a Grandma, and a Gold Star Mother who turned her loss and grief into tens of thousands of service hours at the Balboa Veteran's Hospital.

So here in color is a photo of Carrie with her Sugar Gramma in the Troy Street home of James and Nell Parks. Please note the lamp and the knotty pine wall. You will see it in the background of other photos.

My brother and his wife took the time to record a history of our grandmother before she pass from this world on Christmas Day, 1980. How that affected my feelings about Christmas is another story, but I have come to realize that it was a fitting and appropriate day for Nell to return home. I include a portion of that history that seems well suited to this post.

Q - Did you enjoy being a mother?

A - "Very much. I'm very proud of my two boys."

Q - Would you have liked to go back to teaching?

A - "Not particularly. I realized that the time had passed. It would have been too much work, particularly here in California. I'd have had to gone back to school to qualify. So instead of that I applied for and was given the position of running the cafeteria at our elementary school, I ran that for 11 years from 1930 until 194 I."

Q - Then you went into the Legion didn't you?

A - "I joined the Legion in 1926, I’m about a 52 or 53 year member."

Q - What is the Legion for?

A - "Well, of course is as you know is the veteran organization and its primary object is to help other veterans, disabled veterans, and the dependents of veterans. Part of their creed is part of Abraham Lincoln's pronouncement that we must help the widow and orphans of those who paid with their lives. Lincoln made that speech at his second inaugural address. They're great on Americanism. There's no race, creed or color. The only requirement for membership in the Legion is an honorable discharge from one of the armedservices. Grampa joined after WWI and I [later] joined the Auxiliary. I would be eligible because of Jim, as a Gold Star Mother. I'm a past president of the Auxiliary. I was president in 1948."

Q - You worked in the hospital didn't you?

A - "I started volunteer work, as you know I got this award for 10,000 hours of volunteer service and I loved every minute of it. During World War II I worked in the Red Cross canteen two days a week, I worked in the blood bank one day and I worked in what they called the canteen one day a week. V-I day came on the day I was supposed to have given my gallon of blood. I gave seven pints and then after they opened the blood bank after V J day they weren't taking my type of blood, because mine is very common. So I never got to give a whole gallon but I did give seven pints."

The priceless photo above right is of Nell "Sugar Gramma" Parks with her first born James Delos Parks, probably taken in Winfield, Kansas. According to the transcribed history, Nell described their housing as ". . . a tent cottage. It was an Army tent which you could buy easily in those days and then it was boarded up maybe 12 feet and the tent was stretched over it. Of course there was a floor. That's what we lived in. Jim was born in that tent cottage."

I'll just note here that the Uncle I never got to meet, Uncle Jim, went on from those humble beginnings in an Army surplus tent to serving in the US Navy during WWII aboard the USS Langley, which was sunk off the coast of Java. MM2c James Delos Parks was reported missing in action in 1942, and Sugar Grandma became a Gold Star mother. It is also noteworthy that both her sons were sailors in the Pacific at the same time, and often out of contact with home for weeks at a time. How hard that must have been!

Finally, here is the middle generation, young James Glen Parks being schooled in the same quaint living room in Spring Valley. What ever book it is that she is reading to me has my undivided attention. It is probably Uncle Remus or Little Black Sambo. My brothers, children and I love reading . . . . did well at reading in school, and we owe that gift to Sugar Gramma.

So for Carrie and all of us who turn our hearts to family this Memorial Day, I wish you warm memories, shelter from the storms that come our way, and reflective peace. May we all realize that we stand on the shoulders of patriots and giants . . . ancestors who broke new ground and then defended it with their lives. I am so proud of all my children and my 8 grand children. I love you one and all.

James Glen Parks
29 May 2010

REQUIEM

2010-04-04T20:03:00.000-07:00

I had my photographic eye sharpened while serving as an Army pilot in Vietnam 1965 - 1966. It led to a small photo business started in the 90's. I have a great appreciation for the photographers who covered that conflict and never came home. This tender spot comes from several life's experiences.

The following photos are from the book "Requiem" . . . the cover shown above . . . a memorial to the many photographers who were killed in RSVN while on assignment there. The book is out of print, which makes it even more special to me. Among the 135 photographers from several nations who were either killed or had disappeared in Indochina, Vietnam, Cambodia or Laos, was Henry Huet. He was in country where I saw action and during my time there. I have become a great fan of his and enjoy studying his work . . . even though some memories are best left alone.

Above, a Vietnamese mother and her children ar framed by the legs of a soldier from the 1st Cavalry Division. Photo by Henri Huet c. 1966

Henri Huet was born April 1927 in Da Lat, Vietnam, a still scenic mountain village which was then known for tiger hunting and an awesome old hotel. Henri worked for the AP. Constantly in the field, he was wounded twice, was transfered to Tokyo, but missing the action asked to be sent back to Vietnam. Among his peers, Huet was respected for his bravery, dignity, and skill, and he was loved for his kindness and sense of humor. He and Larry Burrows were among those killed in 1971 when a Huey they were in was shot down over the Ho Chi Minh Trail in Laos.

Though his own wound was so completly bandaged that he could barely peer out of one eye, a young medic of the U.S. Army 1st Cav Division spent hours tending fellow soldiers worse off than he. The medic cradled the bandaged head of this wounded soldier while helping him drink from a C ration can, and carefully wipping his lips after every sip. Photo c. 1966 by Henri Huet

My father came home from the Pacific after WWII to ticker tape parades and cheering throngs. It was a celebration of what has turned out to be the last complete and utter defeat, and unconditional surrender ever accomplished by the United States. He and his comrades in arms earned that acclaim and respect!

I came home to Kent State, civil unrest, and a general disgust if not a hatred, directed at my generation of veterans. I am ok with that, because I was there fairly early in the conflict, and I am also of the opinion that the effort was a huge exercise in futility. 70,000 were sacrificed for political agendas that were out of step with the times. I cry for them and their families still.

Today's soldiers must not be forgotten nor ignored. They need to come home to appreciation for answering the call . . . for willingness to lay it on the line. Don't distance yourselfs from todays fighting men and women because of the inconsistant way in which this conflict was and is being managed. Please pray for them and reach out to them in any way you can!

Old Submariners Never Die . . . .

2009-11-27T22:30:00.000-08:00

I have been wanting to post some writings here by a friend and fellow submariner of my father, a friend that he never met. Thanks to the internet, Dad's last couple of years on this earth were richer due to the friendships he made in the cyber submarine community at large.

One of those sailors was Bob "DEX" Armstrong who was a post war boat sailor who came to idolize and honor Dad's wartime service. DEX is a gifted writer, and as he got to know Tom, AKA The Old Gringo, DEX made Tom the subject of a few of his short glimpses into a boat sailor's life. This one is titled:

I Wonder What Old Gringo Is Doing

Did you ever wonder where old deep-water boat sailors go when they turn in their earthly issue and pick up their orders at St. Peter's receiving station? We've all heard the Marines Hymn…
"When The Army and The Navy takes a look on Heaven's scenes, they will find the streets are guarded by United States Marines." So we know that we'll have to deal with jarheads on the gates. Can you imagine spending eternity pulling gate duty? And writing a song telling the world that that was the extent of your eternal ambition? I guess somebody has to do it… I can hear the boot pushers at Parris Island . . . .

"Listen up now… When you die, we make you an MP and detail you to stand watch on the Pearly Gates to see that those naughty submariners don't steal the gahdam streets."
"Oh goody… Tell me Sarge, do I get to wear my uniform?"
"You sure do… And you get to spend forever and ever, shining your shoes and brass."
"Wow!!"

Just another of the many reasons that submariners wouldn't have made 'worth a damn' Marines. The way I understand it, old worn-out submarine sailors get assigned to Hell but they are given liberty in Heaven . . . . the part of Heaven where all the bars are located and cab fare is free. They don't issue them wings and the bastards hock their harps for beer money.

There is a bar up there called 'The Sterling Dolphin'… A real dump. It's on Admiral Burke Boulevard. Beer's a dime a quart and the furniture is made out of railroad ties. The barmaids are all big busted blondes… Farm girls from Kansas… And they hand out their apartment keys to all the qualified men. Old man Holland . . . you know, the clown who invented the first smokeboat and went around with that goofy walrus looking mustache and silly bowler hat . . . Holland plays the piano.

And there's an old Juke Box… With four hundred thousand cigarette burns on the top. It only plays Tommy Cox… And Glen Miller… Tommy Dorsey, Benny Goodman… Margaret Whiting… Peggy Lee and Pattie Paige. The walls are covered with old yellowed photos of "E" Boats, "R" Boats…"S" Boats and all kinds of Fleet Boats… Old Tenders, ASRs and Admiral Lockwood.

The head is a mess… Four old air expulsion, 'Freckle Maker' heads… And a urinal trough made out of the air flask of a Mark 14 cut in half… And the walls are covered with the names of angels who come with removable bloomers. The wall behind the bar has soft pine paneling and thousands of silver dolphins have been pounded into the wood and an old 127 year old E-3 keeps them Brasso'd up.

The pickled hard boiled eggs fall out of the back end of the Golden Goose and they only sell 'Beer Nuts' in fifty pound bags . . . for two bits. The Shore Patrols are blind and the liberty cards have no time limits. There's only one thing on the menu, the 'Rig for Dive' Cheeseburger . . . it's cooked in all that stuff that comes draining out of the George Foreman grill. The name of every sub ever built and their hull numbers are carved in the tops of all the table tops.

At the bar there is a stool that belongs exclusively to Tom Parks . . . . it has 'Old Gringo' on it in solid gold letters . . . and late in the evening you can find Old Gringo perched at the bar, tossing down suds and wrapping his arm around the best looking gal in the place. Beer is free for any boat sailor who wears a combat patrol pin.

Old Gringo has a beer mug made out of a 5-inch shell casing with a hatch dog for a handle. The barmaids keep him supplied with hand-rolled Cuban cigars and reports on who's reporting in and when the bus is leaving for hell.

I don't know if that's the way it is… But that is the way it should be. An old hard-core Diesel Boat Sailor should get something like that. One thing is for DAMN sure . . . Tom Parks isn't standing a damn Gate watch! You can take that to the bank, Horsefly.

I don't know if that is the way it is either, but this I do know. Tom Parks has earned his place in Heaven, and it will be sweet to see him again . . . . prolly sooner than later . . . . .

Tolerance

2009-11-01T17:19:00.000-08:00

Stumbled across this blog on Word Press . . . Talking To Night Lights . . . from or by Eldon Taylor. He touches on some very interesting ideas. It is amazing how many sources there are for good ideas, little vignettes that ring true no matter who wrote them. I took one of his themes and adapted it to our views on things and leave it here for you. I loved this idea.

Animals are wonderful teachers. The down side is . . . . well, they are wonderful teachers. Through them, we see our talents and our faults and they don’t make a big deal about either. Each new day seems to bring a fresh start, but with the evidence of yesterday's building blocks on display. Pets are also much easier to forgive than humans in our lives, and that is part of what they are here to teach us.

The difference in the forgiveness process with the humans we encounter in this big classroom we call mortal life, and the animals we keep or encounter, is the added hurdle of emotional drama/trauma. We probably expect a human to “know better.” That creates complications. It is not only our "classmates" baggage (as determined by us) we have to let go of, we also have to drop our own suitcases full of hammers and anvils in order to begin to develope tolerance. Watch our animal friends long enough and they will show us the way.

What A Day For A Daydream . . . .

2009-10-27T20:27:00.000-07:00

Did I mention what an accompished artist my wife is? This note was found in my lunch box in the dog days of summer. We both work for local government and the typical opinion of our employment option is lazy government worker. She is anything but that stereotype, often working more time than the payroll card indicates. I, on the other hand have been known to park a county snowplow in the wee hours to take a "safety nap" so as not to endanger the motoring public. She would never be found with her head on her mouse pad napping. That is why this note is so funny, and endearing. I know she "dreams" of me while wide awake. I am very fortunate to have this brand of caring in my life.

The Puppies Are Almost Gone . . . . .

2009-10-27T08:26:00.000-07:00

Seems like just last yesterday the pups came in a wave of well , stuff! Now 3 of these way cute boys and girls will be leaving for their new homes this Saturday. The remaider of the lads will soon follow suit. It will be a hard day even for this old curmudgeon. ...These little furballs have been weaned for a week now, and it is chow time, as if you could not see that in their faces. Wheaten Terriers are such good dogs. These puppies are exceptional!! The smallest one weighed in at 7.4 ounces at birth and she is now 5 pounds! It has been an amazing experience, as well as extremely taxing on our time and carefully crafted daily routine.

This is Red Dog, the pup with the red collar, or Goatee as named by Coree the puppy whisperer. It was one of our last good fall days and it seems as if red Dog is saying:

::::::: YAWWWNNNN ::::::::: So many leaves, and so little time!

I'll miss them when they are all gone! YIKES big snow outside my window now!

Gone To The Dogs - Puppies Are Here!

2009-09-15T19:41:00.000-07:00

Its true! Cassidy's long awaited litter is here! They are all doin' great . . . . we on the other hand are juuuuuuust a tad stressed!

She seems to be a great mom and anxious to see to every need of all 6 pups. "Bruiser" the darker one under Mom's leg is the alpha male . . . a whopping 10.5 ounces, and when he wants to get a place at the milk bar, he gets a place!! Here he is full for the moment, and content to let the sibblings have a go.

Remembering a Mother's Love

2009-09-03T21:25:00.000-07:00

In addition to recent lunch time notes and hand made greeting cards from my sweetheart, I am fortunate to also have a collection of letters from the time I served as an Army Aviator in South East Asia. These may not be lunchbox notes, but they are very special to me, especially the ones from my mother. I was single until after my tour of duty in a combat zone. I did, however, leave a girl back home. The photo below is of me and my aircraft on a little dirt runway in Xuan Loc, Republic of South Vietnam, c. 1965

I recently found a note my mother wrote to my girlfriend just a few days after I left for Vietnam. A mother's love is forever, and reading this after so many years caused me to feel my angel mother's arms around me all over again. Here is the note . . . .

Dear ----, For some reason Glen left this note when he left - knowing, I am sure, that I would send it to you. (I do not remember what was in that note Mom mentioned) My heart is breaking over his leaving and for all who love him. It will seem an eternity until he returns. I never thought he would be sent so far away.

As a mother who naturally wants to see her child happy if at all possible, I want to thank you for what you have ment to him, especially this month of leave at home. You are the kind of girl a mother would hope her son would love.

I know you both are young, and many changes in feelings may take place in a years time. If yours should change, I hope you might wait until Glen is home again to tell him. I can't bear the thought of him so far away and hurt. If I sould foolish, please forgive me as I feel like I am losing my mind this morning.

May all our prayers surround Glen in these coming months and keep him safe. I am finding comfort in the 91st Psalm - you might find peace there also.

God Bless you, ----, and what ever the future brings we must know that it is the Lord's will.
Sincerely, Corenne Parks

My mother was a gifted artist. It was reported to me that after I left the country, Mom spent hours on the sofa watching the TV and nervously munching on ice cubes. She never picked up a paint brush again. This fact hurts my heart very much. Our family is fortunate to have several of Mom's paintings. Here is one that I am blessed to have on our wall. I cannot tell you how precious these paintings, letters in her own hand, and photos, letters and other personal items from my father are to me. A little more about Tom and Corenne Parks is here.

Corenne's grand daughter, my daughter, was just reunited with her Navy Chaplain husband after a deployment in Kuwait on a particularly difficult assignment. The girlfriend in this poignant letter turned out to be my daughter's mother. Even though I am no longer with the mother of my children, I know that these kinds of things still have special meaning to all involved.

I am so happy that Cliff and Carrie are back together, AGAIN, after his 4th deployment. It is very difficult on their family, but Carrie is a former Field Combat Medic so she knows the drill! They will be here on "The Farm" for a visit in just a few weeks. Garaleen and I are looking forward to that rare time with a real American family . . . . our family!!

Got Dog?

2009-08-23T17:38:00.000-07:00

I have been very angry with myself this last few weeks as I have, in my seniorness, misplaced my large envelope of her lunch box notes. I did find a few in my top dresser drawer to continue on with, but it still upsets me. Those kinds of things can never be replaced! Wish me well in the hunt for the last 7 Octobers!

So, I am a recent convert to the joys of dog keeping . . . . I was not on board at first. I knew my sweetheart was interested in a Soft Coated Wheaten Terrier from the beginning. I felt safe while residing in the apartments our first couple of years together. Then we built our home, and once again the dog clock was ticking! I gave in just about 3 years ago, and Lady Cassidy of Millcreek Valley Farm is now a huge part of our lives. This note was penned shortly after we purchased our pup. We love that line in "The Kid" where the young Rusty and the adult Rusty are about to part company, and they notice that they have a dog. If you saw the movie, you know the scene at the airport. Anyway, to further explain the note, Cass' favorite puppy treats were from Zen Puppy . . . . not affiliated with Laker's Coach Phil Jackson. Yep, we have a dog! Cassidy's Dogster Blog is here, FYI.

Now that she is 3, once again I had a weak moment and figured that since this breed is so rare in Utah that we ought to have puppies. The due date is Sept 12th. We are now cooking for a pregnant and picky eater. I remember poking fun at folks who cooked for their pets. Eating crow is good for the soul, I hear.

List of things to do and buy before 12 Sept 2009, according to professional breeders:

Build Whelping Box
Scissors to cut cord
Hemostats to crimp cord
Un-waxed dental floss to tie cord if needed
Surgical gloves and K-Y jelly
Thermometer
Notebook and pen
Flashlight in case of power outage
Ribbons if needed to identify puppies (Huh? they are going to be considered 1 big group, NOT a bunch of individuals . . . at least until they begin to romp around at 5 weeks or so)
Scale of good quality (and in ounces, NOT grams)
Preemie bottles and Canine Milk Replacer (wonder if there is a SLC milk bank for this)
NutriCal for Dam and some warm broth or canine milk (no problem, I am now used to short order cooking for Cassidy, the Dam)
Syringe or spray bottle to apply fluids in Dams mouth
Sleeping bag, camp mattress and pillow to camp beside whelp box (say WHAT??)
Medicinal Rum and/or wine for breeders (did I tell my Bishop about my blog??)

As with so many other things my sweetheart and I have undertaken, it is sweeter together and we have learned that we can do anything if our hearts are pure, our demeanors are charitable and patient, and our souls are absent malice. My wife has taught me all these things and more!

The stages of our marriage have been as distinct as the seasons! I'll expand later on, but this season of the dog has enriched us as well as our lives more than I ever imagined. When I come home from the daily grind and find her at the door, her little terrier tail in a whir, it melts my heart. When I am scrunched up in my lazy chair with the troubles of the times or a dozen other worries scratched into my brow, Cassidy will quietly sit or lay at my tired, sore feet and my joy overcomes my anxiety. Sometimes it makes moisture run down my cheeks. It ALWAYS makes me thankful for my wonderful wife and her desire to own a dog, despite my curmudgeon ways.

Wishing you all a lunch box full of nutrition and memories!

JGP

Changing Focus Here

2009-06-30T19:55:00.000-07:00

I have been writing about the things in my life, and have recently deleted those posts. Trains and Planes are fun and cool, but as I grow older it is the PEOPLE in my life that are coming into focus more and more. So I will attempt to become counter intuitive to my maleness and write about those closest to me, those I love.

:::::::DISCLAIMER:::::::::

Notice I admit that this will be an attempt, and will be new for me, and will go against my many years of man induced selfishness . . . . it has not been my nature to express my deepest feelings. I am willing to change and grow.

Now there is at least one ex-wife that may well read this blog from time to time, because my daughter has me linked to her blog, and her mother reads and responds to those postings. I will be talking a lot about my sweetheart, my wife and companion of 8 wonderful years now, and I do so with out reservation or mincing words in a proper and kind effort to mitigate feelings of former wives who may or may not be looking on. After all, how else could I undertake such a personal reflection. It is not my purpose here to make anyone anxious. Rather my wish is to craft an interesting memoir, and to illuminate the love I feel for my wonderful wife. Let me me clear here . . . my children's mother is a good woman with a big heart. She sets a fine example in caring for her aging parents. She is a survivor, and very proud of her children, grandchildren and extended family. In fact, these two women . . . my wife and my ex-wife even kinda like each other. Heck, a few years ago, my sweetheart and I even drove the moving truck through 2 states to help Gramma Fern relocate. That all by itself speaks volumes to the character of these two ladies. What I am trying to say, and not without some difficulty, is that I am sure that my first wife will allow me to muse and ramble about my last wife here in my blog, and be confident that I have always appreciated her as a good person, mom and gramma. I am, just as she is, simply trying to get on with my "Golden Years" without dwelling on regrets or things that I cannot change.

I also admit here that Garaleen was fortunate enough to have married the more mature model of JGParks . . . already house broken, so to speak. Many rough edges have already been ground smooth in the river of life we all must navigate. Oh, I am still just an ordinary rock for sure . . . not a gold nugget or even a cool piece of rose quartz. But I am making some progress as the world turns. It is good, I think, to not be noticed so much. Just blend in with all the other rocks and make a nice place for the river to be.

I was very surprised to find that I had married an old fashioned gal in many ways. Among other kindnesses she possesses, is that she wanted to put up her husbands lunch box every day, even though she also works full time. Each weekday morning, with very few exceptions, she included a little lunch box note in with a Spam sammich, Cheez Its and home baked snickerdoodles. I would like to share some of them with friends and family with a comment or two. I wish I had dated them, but having the notes in order is of little consequence, I think. It is the high end caring that matters. I'll also scan some of the terrific, handmade birthday, Valentines and other holiday cards she spent hours making for me.

The note pictured above is a short but sweet offering to start out this work in progress. As you can see, she is quite the artist! She loves to love me, and these caring notes say it in bold strokes. I love you too, sweetheart!

JGP

So WHAT is Millcreek Valley Farm About?

2008-12-31T07:55:00.000-08:00

We are beekeepers, inner-city beekeepers albeit along an historic pioneer aqueduct called The Old Millcreek. It makes a big horseshoe bend around our little 2 story home and gives us an island of peace and wooded vistas in 2 directions anyway. As we packages and sold our honey, and created our brand named Millcreek Valley Farm, we had beeswax left over. We decided to start a line of upscale and hand made personal care items and sell them at farmer's markets as well as selected arts festivals across the state. Here is a photo of our "Staff" here at the farm, and it is linked to our web information and sales portal.

We have had great success in 2008 and have added a nice trailer with our logo and information on the sides to haul our stuff to these shows. It is a great excuse to get out of town together and meet some good folks as well as make some money at the same time. Thanks to all of you that have supported our efforts!