America’s Sins

 America’s Sins
There was a time in history that America was a God fearing country. The first men and women came to our shores seeking religious freedom; searching for the ability to worship God without interference from a king or government.  The foundation of the Constitution was based on biblical principles that God described in His Word. The Constitution of the United States is the document that separates a freedom loving people from peoples in the rest of the world.
America has been blessed. The face of God has looked favorably on our nation to make it a powerful entity and a haven for the oppressed. God has allowed our country to intervene when evil men attempted to rule the world. America has given the lives of its men and women to secure liberty for those who were being enslaved.
But year after year America has turned its back on God and year after year God has been saying, “I love you. Come back to me.” The government’s been straying from the principles on which our nation was created. Too many politicians have come to rely on their own strength and wisdom instead of seeking the face of God who is the source of all wisdom and strength.
Morality is on the decline and depravity is on the rise. Our government cannot legislate morality. If the hearts of our citizens remain unchanged, laws will do little to restrain evil or to limit its effects.
I believe God has been showing His displeasure by the increase of earthquakes and weather disasters. When mankind is unwilling to recognize the Creator of the Earth and the weather concerns, but gives credit to “Mother Nature” or “Climate Change” it will only increase. When men do not give God the credit for creation nor see it as a pronouncement of judgment, He will continue to weigh those people and allow that nation to be brought down in defeat.
History shows that when a country removes God from its daily life other than to think of Him as a servant; only to be beckoned when something is needed, that country fails. God will use the same hands that produced the many years of safety and blessings to also deliver the wrath of His judgment on the people of that nation.
It is time for Americans to be less proud and more humble. God is the only strength and refuge in times of trouble and fear. He is our buckler and our sword. God can bless America again if only we turn to Him and seek his forgiveness and face.

A True Redhead

 A True Redhead
Often my brother, Ken and I would hop onto our bicycles and ride to our friend’s house about half of a mile away. Our friend and his brothers would join us and we would take to the shaded lanes and abandoned fields near their home. The one area where would ride was the abandoned campground, the one where a neighbor boy, Les and I while driving in an old jalopy he was repairing, encountered a troop of hiking Boy Scouts.
The deeply rutted roads ran through wooded sections and through large and small open areas of the old camp. Some of the tracts were large open meadows, where our families would pick wild full-flavored strawberries and some by quiet little niches that would hold a tent or a small Scotty trailer. This campground had been abandoned, but people still drove in to use the campsites.
Sometimes we would ride to the old camp just to swim in the stream that had been dammed up and other times we rode for the joy of feeling the wind in our hair. It almost seemed like a paradise to us kids. We had the freedom to ride long distances without the fear of traffic. If we got warm, we rode in the shaded areas or if we got chilled, we would relax on the grass in the warmth of the sunshine.
This particular morning was sunny and cool, the perfect weather for riding our bicycles. It was cool enough to ride in jeans and a polo shirt without overheating when we pedaled furiously. Here and there, wisps of fog curled in low lying areas of the road and at the campsites.
It was a time of freedom. We were riding for the sheer joy of it, feeling the cool air rush by us, our shirt tails flapping behind us in the wind. The morning was filled with the aroma of honeysuckles and stale wood smoke. There had to be campers about.
Tucked tightly in one of the small campsites was an older Scotty trailer. It was turquoise and white. Coiled around its bottom was a large bank of fog, reaching about thirty inches high.  The door to the trailer was open and framed in the dark doorway was an alabaster skinned, statuesque woman. She was sky clad…absolutely naked… not wearing a stitch of clothing. It was as though Aphrodite herself was standing there. The fog swirled around her feet and she appeared to be standing on a cloud.
In the soft morning sun, her skin shone like polished, translucent milk glass. She had wide hips, a narrow waist, and breasts the size of small grapefruit. It truly was “Venus on the Half Shell” standing there in rural Pennsylvania
 It was a heady and titillating moment for us boys. We stopped our bicycles just out of sight. We weren’t sure what to do, but the only road that went out, meant riding back past the Scotty trailer and this nude woman. After a short rest, we decided to ride back, but we were disappointed. The door was still open, but empty. The one thing that I can say for sure was this woman was definitely a red head.

A Rose by Any Other Name

 A Rose by Any Other Name
Our family had a great Aunt Rose Shipley. She lived with her daughter, son-in-law, and grandson in Charleroi, Pennsylvania. Their home was along the Monongahela River. We would occasionally visit and while the adults sat and talked, my sister Kathy, brother Ken, and I would sit on the cinder-lined bank and watch the boats and barges go by. It was better than being cooped up inside even though Aunt Rose was a cool old lady.
Aunt Rose had the most beautiful white hair with large soft curls that framed her wrinkled face. She had a pleasant laugh and a quick smile. It was rare that we ever saw her frown. Sometimes she would visit my grandparents Miner’s farm, staying for several weeks at a time. She would help cook, shell beans, peas, and bake. I can remember one time when she was helping with the supper meal and ended up with the task of making gravy. She got frustrated and said, “Becky, there’s lumps in the damn gravy. I guess I’ll have to strain it.” That was the only time I ever heard her swear.
She always wore a dress that was lavender or had lavender print. I never knew whether it was her favorite color, but it made her white hair look absolutely stunning.
Grandma Rebecca Miner’s house had a long concrete front porch with cinder block walls and pillars. It was cool in the summer and stayed dry in the winter being protected by two tall hemlock trees. Grandma had two Adirondack chairs, a love seat to match, and a contour fitted swing. One day as Aunt Rose and Grandma were on the swing, I reached through the half-block air holes at the bottom of the wall and grabbed Aunt Rose’s ankle. She was startled, jumped up, and screamed. Just a youthful prank, but I always thought she had a twinkle in her eye when she saw me. I could be wrong, but I hope not.
When they weren’t on the porch, they were in the sitting room, not to be confused with the “sitting parlor,” only used by special guests on special occasions. The informal sitting room was where they would watch television. Aunt Rose loved the Pirates until they won the World Series, “acted a fool,” and poured champagne over each other’s heads. When that happened, it dampened her desire to watch them and was indifferent to watching their games or following their stats and standings. For some reason I don’t remember her dying or her funeral, so I guess that she will continue to live on in my memories.

Exploring Emotions

 Exploring Emotions
Over the past several days I’ve been consolidating my posts from multiple flash drives onto one with a larger memory capacity. My computer repairman suggested that I do it. He told me that if anything happened to cause one of them to crash, I would have a back-up. It would be a shame if I lost all of that data. I bought a flash drive with a much larger capacity and have slowly been transferring my stories. I just looked and I have nearly 2,500 posts as well as poetry, stories, and even some random thoughts that I’ve saved.
When I open each title or read the first line or two, memories come flooding back. It’s somewhat like driving in a hailstorm and emotional pieces of sleet bounce off my memory’s windshield. Thoughts of sadness…click, thoughts of joy…click, emotions of love…click, emotions of death…click; they appear then they‘re gone swiped away with wipers and I’m on to the next moment. There were tales of holidays and celebrations and some are amusing and funny anecdotes. It’s like sampling at a smorgasbord.
Interspaced are the ups and downs that mimick feelings of riding on a roller coaster. I felt the highs as it climbed and crested the top before the stomach turning feelings of the plunge into the next valley. Doors and windows into my past opened and shut rapidly, almost dizzyingly. Somettimes it felt like a mental battering ram or an assault on my thought tower.
The winds of those memories sometimes flow like a stream and would rush in like a flood. Some stories srormed at me with strength or they would refresh me like a soft breeze. In the collection, I was able to shake hands with dogs from my past. I was opened albums of faces that appeared and disappeared like the tricks of a magician. I was surprised with what I found like him pulling a rabbit out of his hat.
An orchestra of remembrances sounded softly or grew in strength or sometimes thoughts would clash. It’s an emotional grocery list of my life. The saddest part is that so far I have only slogged halfway through the stories. I wonder what I will shake from the tree next.

Stilts and Skis

 Stilts and Skis
When we were kids, we tried to make skis, sleds, and stilts from scraps at out neighbor’s house. Pieces of wood, held together by straightened and reused nails, were the starting point for any project. The stilts were lengths of two by fours with smaller pieces as the foot rests. Bits of leather strapping helped the user to keep his feet on the perches.
The sleds were for the most part bobsled Frankenstein creations with automobile steering wheels and chrome strips fastened to wide board runners and a plank body. They were heavy and didn’t go very fast, but they were sleds that could be guided. It took several kids to pull the monster back up the hill for the next ride.
Skis were attempted once and they were an unmitigated failure. The wood was too thick and unyielding. Chrome strips did slide fairly well, but would bend and not support weight. On top of that, how were we going to keep them on our feet?
Now that I am grown, I bought a pair. I am still not adventurous enough to try downhill skiing, but purchased an entire ensemble of cross country skis, poles, and boots for $5.00 at a yard sale. Behind my home and across the road are fields, fairly level that would be my safe practice areas. I am sixty-five and bones are more easily broken.
Until yesterday, there hadn’t been enough snow to try them out. Bravely, I wore the boots down the stairs into the basement and gathered everything near the garage door, chair, skis, and poles. I had enough foresight to lift the garage door about six inches to allow me to approach it and open it with the tips of the skis passing under it.
Skis snapped in place, I lifted the door and emerged a novice and cautious. Skis made turning awkward, but I closed the door behind me. I was surprised to find the skis were less stable than I thought they would be. I could feel the gravel chunks making one of the skis tilt to one side. Poles in hand I scooted up the drive and into the wilds of my yard.
The snow was wet and occasionally stuck to the bottom of one ski or the other. Sometimes lifting and stepping and sometimes sliding along, I got comfortable with the feel of the boards strapped to my feet. The mail was in and I scooted across my yard and the next-door neighbor’s yard to the mailbox. All that greeted me were advertisements. I circled the posts that upheld the boxes and headed back to my house, ads wadded up in my back pocket.
I made one more circuit of my yard and put the old fire horse back into the barn. I hadn’t fallen, although there were several, “Whoops, that was slippery.” Safe inside I removed the gear and leaned them against the wall until the urge and snow drew me outside again.

Just Cloning Around

 Cloning Around
I heard from the news that scientists were able to clone wolves that have been extinct for more than 12,000 years. Colossal Biosciences, a biotech company in Dallas, Texas has resurrected the dire wolf by using ancient DNA and genetically altering the genes of a gray wolf. The gray wolf is the closest living relative. The company announced that the result was essentually a hybrid species similar to its extinct forerunner. So it isn’t a pure-blooded dire wolf, but a hybrid species.
The dire wolf was once a top predator that roamed North America. The dire wolf was larger than the North American gray wolf. They had a wider head, light thick fur, and a stronger jaw.
With this accomplishment under their belt, Colossal will continue working to resurrect the mammoth, dodo, and Tasmanian tiger. They have been working on theseprojects since 2021. Will we be able to see actual dinosaurs like in the movie Jurrasic Park or will the costs be prohibitive.
The cloning of the Ice Age wooly mammoth DNA samples will be retrieved from several mammoth specimens and ntroduced into the edited living cell nucleus of Asian elephants-the mammoth’s closest living kin in an attempt topreserve the mammoth’s traits.
Colossal also works to save endangered species. There are often “bottle necks” that may be caused by lack of genetic diversity. Colossal is attempting to introduce a wider gene pool into the endangered animals.
One project is to revive the pink pigeon that is indiginous to the Island nation of Mauritius. It once thrived there until its habitat was lost due to the incursion of sugar plantations.
The pricce for Colossal is a colossal $10.2 billion. The biotech company has the resources to persue these scientific endeavors without much concern about the cost. They have partnered with many conservation organizations.
The company worked with Indigenous MHA Nation tribes (Mandan, Hidasta, and Arikawa) to have the dire wolves to live on their lands in North Dakota. Colossal is negotiating with North Carolina to help strengthen the endangered red wolf population.

Which Commandmennt?

 Which Commandment?
I once heard a sermon on the Ten Commandments. It wasn’t which commandment was the most important or which commandment had a blessing attached to it, but on which commandment does all the other commandments hinge? The radio pastor said that all the other commandments rested on “Thou shalt not steal.”
At first I thought that it was a bit strange until he went through the Scripture and applied stealing to all of the others. “Thou shalt have no other gods before me.” When that law is broken, we steal the honor that only the LORD God deserves. The glory that is His because He is God almighty is diminished. Making a graven image, again that is stealing the reverence and veneration that belongs to God alone. When we give recognition that is due to the LORD to an inanimate object or to “Mother Nature,” one begins to replace the Creator with something in creation. Mankind devalues God and replaces Him with something less.
“Thou shalt not take the name of the lored your God in vain.” Stealing the laud, the recognition, and the elevation of the LORD’s name, we relegate it to the class of any other word in our vocabulary and steal the respect of that holy name.
“Keep the Sabbath day holy.” The Sabbath was a day the LORD set aside for mankind to rest and to worship Him. It wasn’t to be just another day of the week. When we don’t set aside the time for the day of worship, we steal fealty that we owe to God our Creator. Our God is a jealous God often taking back that time with illness to force us to slow down and to recognize Him.
“Honor your father and your mother.” When we don’t acknowledge and hold in esteem the people who gave us life, we steal something that is owed them. It is the one commandment with a blessing attached to it. When we honor our parents, God says that your days will be long upon the earth.
“Thou shalt not kill.” Killing takes a life. It takes something that doesn’t belong to you and destroys something precious to the other person.
Thou shall not commit adultery” and “Thou shalt not covet.” These two commandments are two sides of the same coin. Seeing something that doesn’t belong to you and you decide that you must have it. Stealing is the root.
“Thou shall not bear false witness against thy neighbor.” When we bear false witness, we steal the reputation of our neighbor. Lying is another sin that God hates.
Finally, we are back to the commandment, “Thou shalt not steal.” I didn’t give justice to the preacher’s sermon, but I can understand his reasoning.