On the Road to the Library

Parents always hope they've made a positive impression on their children.  So you work to be a good example, in spite of yourself.  Then you stop once in awhile and ask what else you might do to be a more positive and memorable person in their eyes. 

On a rare occasion the reinforcement comes, and you are not only surprised, but completely amazed.  That's good isn't it?  Well, it depends on whether their expectations of who and what you are meets your hopes or exceeds your hopes!

So on the latest tickler, I realized I'd obviously done too well in making our youngest son thinking I was a much better math teacher than I might possibly be today. The next few weeks will tell. 

Yesterday morning I received a text message from our son telling me his wife was taking Pre-Calc and Math Analysis and was having a little problem understanding some of the concepts.  He'd told her his dad was likely better at helping her than he was, so wanted to know if I could arrange to have a little time next week to help?

Well, you just don't tell your kids no when they ask for assistance, right????? 

Now let's talk reality.  In my younger day I was a math whiz.  I got straight A's in every math class I took.  While stationed in Puerto Rico I had some spare time after the clean-up of Hurricane Hugo was finished so signed up to teach evening college classes on base.  The college asked me to teach math which I did.  Additionally, our neighbor's wife and daughter were taking Analytical Mathematics and so I ended up doing tutoring for them for a few weeks as well. Enjoyed both and it went well!

Subsequently, on our return to the States, I signed up to design and teach classes for Silver Lake College in Manitowoc, Wisconsin, a Catholic College.  I spent a little over five years doing classes in their evening adult Masters Program.  Krieg was in elementary school at that time so he would remember his dad as a college instructor.

So, those of you who are intuitively observant have now tied two events in time together:  teaching and tutoring math "after" Hurricane Hugo, and Krieg was in elementary school.  That would be September of 1989 and September of 1995.  No matter how you look at it and do the "math" that would be either seventeen or twenty-three years ago. 

So here we are with a seventy year old mind, being asked to do something that at the most recent was seventeen years ago (teaching) and the oldest was twenty three years ago (tutoring).  How on earth does an elementary kid recall you used to do these things at all, let alone well?????

So, tonight, I went online to the Boise Public Library, and did a search for Pre-Calc books in the system.  I didn't find the exact one I wanted (Precalculus with Limits), but I did find another and found they also have one of the Scham's series on Pre-Calc.  Will pick them up tomorrow on the way back from the Idaho State Historical Society Archives (that's a whole other story) and begin "my" refresher before next week. 

Wish me luck getting up to speed after 17/23 years.  Just hope I don't destroy those expectations.

So who's Anal?????

I could probably have just put a name up here and that would have been the shortest blog ever.  But that is no fun, and if anyone ever does read my blogs, it would be such a grave disappointment that I didn't ramble on for several paragraphs before getting to my point.  That is not who I am.  Just ask my oldest daughter why we call those things on the ends of our legs "feet". 

Two people in our household have always been accused of being anal.  One is our daughter, and the other is of course me!!!!!  (Let's ramble.)  One year Deb and Erin were putting in Hosta plants around large trees we'd planted.  She gave Erin six to plant around one tree.  Deb planted hers, then went around to the other side of the house to see how Erin was doing.  Erin had a tape measure and was just finishing up.  They were evenly spaced, very symetric, and exactly the same distance in from the outer edge of the spaded up dirt perimeter.  Deb needed one more for her side so grabbed one.  Erin of course was very frustrated because now she had to start remeasuring.  "For crying out loud Erin, just put them in the ground!"  This was the one "non-anal" person giving us who are the run around. 

(Back to the story), so today, as we are sitting drinking our third cup of coffee on a lazy Saturday morning, wondering what projects we have (can't just sit on the deck enjoying the cool morning and great coffee) she hands me three typed pages of notes and says, "Would you go over this and see what we can do today?"  Says I, "We can sit and read the morning paper and enjoy our coffee!"  Oops, already said that wasn't an option didn't I. 

We have a month and three days until the wedding.  However, twelve days of that we will be on the road.  So, my non-anal wife has outlined every weekend, and some of the days in between with what we need to do prior to the wedding.  That really was only the first two pages, the third was the meals and food for while family is here and for the rehearsal dinner, including which bowls each would be in.  When I'd finished reading it, she asked, "What do you think?"  My reply?  "So who is anal in this family?"  Response, "I'm not anal, I'm just organized!"

So why is it my daughter and I are anal, and my wife is organized?????

Have to admit (can't believe I'm putting this in print) this list is so complete there should be a zero-anxiety factor between now and then -- unless of course we miss achieving a to-do on the list at the right time.  Not sure what will happen then.  But, still I've got to love her.  When I think back to my days as a carrier pilot, and how we tried to plan for every eventuality of a flight, I should be the last one complaining about her an......  sorry, about her organization.  But, can I now count three in the family?????

Ridin' with the Reverend

A couple weeks back Deb came home from work and told me how she was discussing our youngest son's upcoming wedding with a co-worker. Asked where the wedding would be she named the local Catholic Church, when a third co-worker standing nearby said, "I go to church there and I've never seen you!" This second co-worker then began to question which service, etc. WOW!!!!! So this is the good Christian who takes the low road, insists we must not go there since 'she' has never seen us there, and takes this derogatory approach publicly. I never cease to be amazed at how crass some people can be, and surprisingly how some people who call themselves Christian can be so critical and judgemental.

As I grew up, my folks didn't attend church regularly. The only time I ever saw my dad in church was for a wedding or a funeral. He swore like a trooper, or maybe I should say truck driver for that is what he was. If anyone ever asked him which church he attended it was always, "I go to the Round Church. That way they can't get me cornered!" Yet, in action and in his heart he was one of the greatest examples of a Christian man I've ever known.

He'd do anything for anyone, was always there to help when something needed to be done. At the age of 74 he and a close friend Bob were still going out and cutting wood for several of the widow women in the neighborhood so they'd all have wood to heat their homes the coming winter. The last summer they did this they cut up seven cords of wood, and never once expected to get any money back in return. It was just something you did for others. Dad was the epitome of 'pay-it-forward' before the movie even was thought about. He'd always tell me not to be afraid to help someone, "You will get it back ten-fold in other ways."

The funny part is for all of this, he and mom ensured I had a strong faith, and attendance at church. Not sure how they knew one of the local ministers, especially since they never attended church themselves. But, when I was five years old I began to attend church every week. The minister lived about five miles Southeast of our house. The community non-denominational church was about two miles Northwest of us. Reverend and Mrs. Moore drove via our road every single Sunday, and there I was in my Sunday best standing out by the road waiting for them to stop and pick me up. I remember getting my twelveth annual consecutive pin for perfect attendance. Pretty hard not to get there when riding with the Reverend. But it was my non-church going parents who made sure this happened--two very much Christian in their hearts and actions.

So where am I headed with this? (Anyone who reads my blog knows I don't get to my point straight away.) My point is that sometimes those who are the most vocal about their religion, and commitment to the Lord often times seem to be living their religion the least. In particular I'm amazed by those who 'vocalize' their faith openly and loudly in front of as large an audience as is available to them -- certainly in this day of the internet, facebook, etc. that can be a pretty large group. When I hear this I wonder if they've ever read Matthew 6:5,

"And when thou prayest, thou shalt not be as the hypocrites are: for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and in the corners of the streets, that they may be seen of men. Verily I say unto you, They have their reward. 6But thou, when thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and when thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy Father which is in secret; and thy Father which seeth in secret shall reward thee openly."

And for this second co-worker, Romans 14:12-13,

"So then each of us will give an account of himself to God. Therefore let us not pass judgment on one another any longer, but rather decide never to put a stumbling block or hindrance in the way of a brother."

This is one of the great parts of riding a motorcycle, especially on long road trips -- it affords lots and lots of time for self-reflection, for contemplating where each of us is in life, for trying to understand if we are contributing to this world in general and to ourselves specifically. It's about understanding others, and understanding who we are and how we fit into our families and to society. It's learning whether we are contributing to our immediate families in everyway possible, or just financially--are we doing what's best for the family, or for ourselves????? It's like religion, and it's like you are always 'Riding with the Reverend!'

Post Script: When my dad's father was about five years old, his father (my great grandfather) Ralph Philo Moore passed away. He and his next youngest brother were taken to an Aunt's to be raised. As she was married to a Shaw, the boys took that surname. I just thought it kind of a strange consequence that I road to church for twelve years with Reverend and Mrs. W. A. Moore. Never did find out if there was a shirt-tail relationship there.

Sometimes our friends are really different!!!!!

This week was really great because of an opportunity not many people get.  I've been volunteering up at The Peregrine Fund's World Center for Birds of Pray since 2005.  It was a chance meeting.  In January 2001 I took a new job in Boise, Idaho.  Deb stayed back in Wisconsin with the kids so Erin, our oldest, could finish high school there.  I drove out, and moved into an apartment, and if anyone has experienced that you know the place is about as boring as can be.

The first weekend, determined to not spend the two days staring at a TV and bare walls, I spent Friday night searching the web for some place to go on Saturday.  Found the Birds of Prey Center and so after breakfast went up to see what it had to offer.  I got there about 10:30am.  After a very short four and a half hours I decided there wasn't much more I could see and headed out for lunch at 3:00pm.  One thing was apparent--when I retired I was going to volunteer to serve up there.  So, in 2005 I filled out the volunteer form and started. 

The hardest part of being a volunteer was getting in two years of service so I could begin training to handle the educational birds, and show them to the public.  That first day was filled with concern of doing everything just right, not frightening the bird, and being able to focus on his care and handling while talking to the Interpretive Center visitors.  It was also filled with considerable excitement having a wild raptor on a glove no more than six to eight inches from my face.  To be that close the very first time is an undescribable feeling.  It doesn't compare to holding your new born child the first time, but it definitely has to be the next closest thing.

The first raptor with which I worked was a male Peregrine Falcon named Jess.  Jess was born at the center and had bad eye sight so was kept as an educational bird rather than release him to the wild and have him die because he couldn't catch prey.  That's Jess to the right (no not the bald one).  The photo was taken this week and is one of the reasons I started this particular blog.  I wanted to share with all of you some of what I experienced.  

It was spring break, so one of the programs we added was to have a bird on display, along with lots of art supplies so young people (three to sixty+) could come up to the Center and draw/sketch the birds and learn about them.  Jess is sixteen now.  He has been quite the Raptor Ambassador of these years.  I still get just as excited when I show him as I did the very first time.  Through the work of The Peregrine fund over 4000 birds were released to the wild, and in 1999 the peregrine was taken off the endangered species list. 

The Center has over 20 educational birds which the public can see and learn about.  During the day there are six scheduled live bird presentations for the visitors to see.  Additionally, during warmer weather two or three birds are often placed on perches in our courtyard for visitors to see and photograph.  Our volunteers work as bird sitters during these sessions and are available to answer questions from the public. 

This week I had the opportunity to bird sit in the art program on three different afternoons.  What a lot of fun being with the birds and being afforded the chance to share with the public a little information about these great creatures.

 This is an American Kestrel.  His name is Bob and he's about four years old.  He was initially taken to a rehab center, but because of the time spent there he became an imprinted bird and could not be released back to the wild. 

Bob is the smallest of the falcon family and though he can catch birds the size of sparrows often feeds on grasshoppers and crickets as well.  Frequently you will see these birds on telephone lines along the road where there is an adjacent field which offers lots of feeding opportunities. 

Falcons as a family typically prey on other birds, and are some of the fastest fliers in the raptor community.  They have exceptional eyesight, and often can spot prey at considerable distance.  Additionally, you will find most of the falcons also either have an all black colored head or at least have a black stipe of feathers crossing the eye vertically or horizontally.

Another falcon we have as an educational bird, and one of the prettiest ones coloring wise is the Teita Falcon.  It is also found spelled Taita.  Our falcon, Minnie is a three year old imprinted bird.  They are one of the rarest falcons in the world and found in eastern Africa.  They typically nest near areas with high cliffs and their favorite prey is the chimney swift, one of the fastest flying birds in the world. 

As a result, they must fly even faster in order to catch their prey.  They will climb up to higher altitudes and then when prey is spotted will dive at the prey to catch it.  It has been estimated they can dive at speeds of 170 to 180 miles per hour.  She has a beautiful fawn colored breast, the typical dark markings around the eyes and head, and the tubercle or cartilage in the nostril.  Because they dive at such high speeds they can "pop" the tubercle up to close off the nostril and reduce the high speed wind entry into their lungs.  And, as with all the raptors, has large eyes, talons and a hooked beak for tearing the prey for consumption. 

Another falcon with which I was able to work this week was the Aplomado Falcon.  Ours, Stella is an eleven year old bird born at the World Center for Birds of Prey.  We are now raising these and releasing them to the wild as we did with the Peregrines. 

The Aplomado had disappeared from the United States about 1952.  We were fortunate to obtain several breeding pairs from the Yucatan Peninsula by agreement with the Mexican government.  We've been releasing them in Texas and New Mexico along the South Coast and Rio Grande Valley where their habitat used to be. 

The Aplomado is unusual in that the pairs hunt together to team-up and catch prey.  One often will work lower while the other works higher and they use a deception and attack approach to catching their prey.  You can see she has the same dark coloring around the eye.

 























I've included these last two photos of Stella since they show a couple of things about the birds when they get comfortable with their surroundings.  There was another bird presentation going on at the time and we had no one in the art area.  Stella was settling down to the point she began to get comfortable and doze off.  In the left photo you will note she is standing on only her right leg.  This is common and the other one is pulled up in her chest feathers.  You can see she's also closed the "nictitating membrane" (her third eyelid) on her left eye and is just peeking out of her right eye to see if I'm still there.  The right hand photo is after she got really comfy and tucked her beak down and has the eye completely closed.  This third eyelid is opaque, and although not transparent as in the sense of a clear pane, still allows some shadows to show through, and most importantly protects the eye when they are attacking prey.  It also is used to wet the eye when flying as we would when we blink with our eyes. 

Finally, we are back to our original raptor Jess.  Peregrines are the fastest animal on the planet.  We often ask visitors which animal is fastest, and the most common response is the cheetah.  Cheetahs have a top speed of about 70 mph.  One peregrine was actually "clocked" at 242 mph in a dive on prey.  Of course, they too have the tubercle to protect their lungs from the high speed wind. 

Jess is a truly great Raptor Ambassador and has been with us for considerable time.  When on display on the glove he is often vocal with the "ker-chuk" sound they are known for.  A great bird, my privilege to show, and one with which I wanted to share with you as to why my week was so very special.  Thanks for hanging in there while I rambled.  VR. Mags.






For Jack, who was with us for many years.  A very special Raptor!

On The Beach!

Fifteen years ago we brought my folks cremains to the ocean. We waded down a little creekbed to Trail 2, one of their favorite spots. There they will be at the ocean forever. Now, when we
come to Kalaloch, we stop and visit the old tree stump where the trail meets the beach! Today we walked the mile and a half South from the cabins to pay our respects. What a beautiful March day. Thank you Lord!!!!! Life is beautiful.

A New Road with Family

Being on the road with family can mean a lot of things--heading to church, the grocery store, a movie; on vacation, taking a weekend to visit.  Today, I had a chance to be on the road with family, and found a new road to take.  It was a surprise, it was exciting, it was heart-warming, and most of all it was fulfillment of another wish, another dream.

From the Shaws and Kriegers, my paternal grandparents, if we learned nothing else, we learned the most important thing was family.  I recall weekends were always spent at one of the twelve Shaw kid's homes with several of the brothers and sisters there, along with all their kids.  The adults played cards most evenings, and we kids ran rampant through the yard during the afternoons, and found games to play inside at night.  And, of course, we ate.  There was always lots of food.  It wasn't fancy, but it was staple, and it was plentiful--fried chicken was common, we always had lots of mashed potatoes, a treat was Aunt Annie's fried bread.  Most evenings they played pinochle, but some nites they played Blackjack, but called it 21.  Then the older kids got to play, and it was used to teach us to add quickly in our heads. 

But, here I've digressed.  It's just that family always brings back so many great memories--as it should.  About thirty years ago my family put together a family history book.  One of the cousins, Darlene, took the lead and got the majority of the family to write down dates and places of births, deaths, marriages, and other significant life events.  She also asked everyone to write down a few pages of memories of the family.  While not documented, most of the information was at least close if not accurate. 

After I retired, I picked up the journey, and went through the book, put all the information online into a family tree.  One of my cousins Chris, scanned the whole book, put it into a pdf file and we were able to upload it to the family tree site so coming generations would have access to it.  It's been a marvelous journey, and one I feel fortunate to have traveled. 

As with all travels, we occasionally run into deadends, or make wrong turns.  I've found sufficient along the way, and while disappointing at the time, they can sometimes have the best of outcomes.  Today was one of those days we squeaked through a narrow road and ended up in front of a beautiful destination.

Michael Krieger and Caroline Amanda Bush married in 1879 in Nebraska.  The "Book" records show they had nine children, all born in Sutton, Clay County, Nebraska.  The first born was John W. born January 28, 1880 and died in infancy on February 28, 1880.  Despite several searches, I could find no documentation for John W., could not find burial information, nor a gravesite.  Finally, I located a 1880 Census for Michael and Amanda, and it was enumerated in Farmers Valley, Hamilton County, Nebraska.  I went to Find-a-Grave online and searched to see if there is a cemetery there, and if so if there might be a John W. Krieger interred there.  I found a cemetery, but no John W. Krieger.  However, there was a single tombstone for the unknown dead.  On February 20th, I submitted a photo request, and asked if someone might be able to "...just look around". 

Today, I had a note from Find-a-Grave, and opened it.  A wonderful lady "Wendy" wrote back to me, "Well, it was a BEAUTIFUL day here in Nebraska so I headed out with my camera to fulfill some requests. Lucky you - yours was on my list! Wow! Farmer's Valley Cemetery is such a beautiful little pioneer cemetery! Anyway, I did find a "Krieger" marker - the only one there. I am pretty sure it is who you are looking for, but I wanted to pass a little information by you before I post the pictures. The marker was for a William Krieger. Could be your John W. was called William. He was born on Jan. 28, 1880 and died on Febr. 28, 1880. It says he was the son of A. and M. Krieger. Amanda and Michael? If you think this is him, let me know and I will post the pictures. As, I said, there were no other Krieger headstones that I found, so don't know where the parents are buried. Wendy"

It was a match to both Caroline Amanda and Michael Krieger, and the dates were exact.  I wrote back, and within the hour, Wendy had posted the photos, established a memorial online, and sent me another note, "I am glad I could help you out. I so enjoyed my visit to this little cemetery. Someone obviously cares alot about the cemetery. I think this is the first cemetery I have ever been to that had outhouses! Yep - two of them nestled in the corner. It had a nice cement picnic table and other signs that it was not a forgotten place. EVERY grave had flowers on them so there was not a single forgotten person there. So, don't worry about little William. Someone is taking care of his gravesite. :) ...Again, fulfilling this request was truely a pleasure! Enjoy!! Wendy."

So now we have completed another journey and found another ancestor along the way.  It's when you are up against a road block, at a deadend, when the research truck seems to be deeply mired in the muddy records of history, that someone like Wendy comes along and gives you the tug you need.  And, these are the events that keep us researching, and hopefully helping others as Wendy has helped us.  Thanks a million Lady.  You've definitely made this a great ride.  VR. Mags.

Photo taken by Wendy Redman Hudson, posted on Find-a-Grave 14 Mar 2012. 

Beauty is Where You Find It!

Sitting in Mass yesterday afternoon for the beginning of Lent, I was looking at the four stained glass windows high above the alter in the front of the Church.  Although they are beautifully designed and installed, I thought of another Church--St. Catherine. 

Last spring, Deb and I took a day trip to Twin Falls to see Shoshone Falls and Twin Falls while the river was at it's spring high.  We had an incredible trip on several accounts.  We of course stopped at the Perrine Bridge and found we'd just missed some BASE jumpers.  They were down on the South shore packing up their parachutes.  But, the day was beautiful and we enjoyed just seeing the view. 

 After we crossed the bridge we pulled in at the information visitor's stop on the South side of the bridge.  Two really neat people offered us considerable facts and information, including where we might find a great breakfast.

We had to laugh. The gent told us it was his favorite, but was just a local hole-in-the-wall.  He said it wasn't difficult to get to, but you had to keep an eye out for it.  We followed his directions, and looked where we were supposed to, but didn't see any restaurants.  It was in the middle of an industrial and storage area, so it should have stood out.  We circled the block again--nothing.  So, drove out a block to the main street, stopped at a 7-11 and asked.  Two out of the three had never heard of it, but fortunately, a young woman stocking in the back room said, "Yes, it's just over one block, and down about half-way in the next block."  So off we went again looking for the Buffalo Cafe.

Buffalo Cafe in Twin Falls

He was right, it was a hole-in-the-wall, but turned out to be a very fun experience, and the food was superb.  Helpings were way greater than needed, but delicious, hash browns to die for and an omelette that would make you proud, and extremely full.  Unending hot, fresh coffee topped off the most attentive and friendly waitress we've enjoyed in some time. 

With our 'bellies' full, we headed on up the road and saw the falls, scanned the cliffs for raptors building spring nests, and just a pleasureful, non-rushed morning into afternoon.

Shoshone Falls

The river flow was high, the water rushing over
was impressive, and the beautiful rainbow from
the sunshine was brilliant.  Deb took lots and
lots of pictures.  We felt very fortunate as the melt was usually not this great this late in the year.

After visiting the two falls locations, Deb was scanning the route to go home so we didn't travel the same ground and discovered there was a balancing rock out to the West of town.  Actually, it was quite a ways out West of town, but all we had was time and the desire to enjoy a day together. 

Off we went towards Buhl, and then SW about ten to twelve miles.  You end up driving across some great agricultural land, and then suddenly the terrain drops away and you drop down and cross a river and then you are back up into rocky high desert terrain.  But, sure enough, crawling up out of the river bottom, on the right hand side Deb spotted our interim destination.  Funny how you can live somewhere for ten years and not even know there are new and fun destinations to explore.  We'd not even heard of this balancing rock, but found there was a neat history to it, and of course added a new piece of history to our travels. 

From there we took off winding our way North on farm roads looking for the well traveled means back to I-84 and our return to Boise.  Without venturing over into Owyhee County we found our way back to Highway 30 and headed for the freeway.  Hwy 30 takes you back up towards Hagerman, and passes the famous Hagerman Fossil Beds National Monument.  Unfortunately, with all of our meanderings that day, we didn't leave time to go explore the fossil beds (and that is so one of Deb's long lived desires in the world).  But, that can be another day trip for us in the future.  So, on up the road we traveled and finally entered the little town of Hagerman.  
If you count all the cross streets, Hagerman is ten blocks long South to North.  As we approched the next to last block there was a little church on the West side of the road.  I was looking around, but didn't look too closely, but fortunately my wife did.  Suddenly she says, "Mike! Stop! Turn around we need to go back!"  Now she has always had a pension for taking pictures of churches, church spires and crosses, so I wasn't totally surprised, but didn't see the cross on this church as particularly spectacular. 

St. Catherine Church, Hagerman, Idaho

What Deb saw that I missed were the stained glass windows in this little church.  We went up a block and turned around and came back into the parking lot.  How I'd not seen the beauty of these windows was beyond me.  Deb jumped out and was snapping a picture of the side of the church and the outdoor statue of St. Catherine along side the building.  About then a truck drove in and went to a little maintenance shed at the back of the lot.  A gentleman got out of the truck and walked over toward Deb.

She explained she had seen the stained glass windows and just wanted to get a picture of them and hoped he didn't mind.  You know, the thing about Idaho is there is no greater feeling than the friendliness with which you are greeted by locals--especially by locals of small towns.  Hagerman and this resident and church member were no disappointment in that department. The gentleman asked Deb if she would like to go inside and take pictures so the light was coming in through the windows.  He was clearly very proud of his Church and extremely ready to show his pride to us. While not wanting to impose, we could not resist the opportunity.  The gentleman unlocked the front doors to the church, and below you see the results of Deb's visit to St. Catherine Catholic Church, Hagerman, Idaho.

I love being On the Road, I particularly enjoy being On the Road with Deb!!!!!

Inner Doors to the Church

Main Aisle to the Church Alter