Easter Egg hunting

Grainola Methodist Church

I have to tell you I loved Easter Egg hunting and everything around it.  Every year mom and probably Debbie, my sister, made a big effort to make Easter special.  Dad always thought Debbie was the prettiest little girl and use to tell me how he loved to see her in a pretty Easter dress.  Mom would always make sure we had an Easter basket filled with all kinds of goodies and there was always a chocolate bunny  in the basket.  I think Easter was more special than Christmas at our house.  On Easter morning the baskets filled with green plastic grass were set on the fireplace which was now cold because the winter cold was gone and spring was here.

You knew it was spring and almost Easter evidenced by the yellow daffodils strung around the yard. As a little side note the dandelion were in full bloom with their yellow tops throughout the yard, fields and around the barns.  I personally loved them and of course when they matured we liked to pick them and blow the seeds into the air to float off for another spring bloom.

Mom and Dad always made sure we were shined up for Easter services at the Grainola Methodist Church.  That meant we had to polish our shoes and many times if not every time we had some new clothes we got at Newman's department store in Ark City (Arkansas City for the non-locals)  and that was in Kansas north of the state line.  Mom always dressed up on Sundays but on Easter Mom and dad were spit-shined.  Mom always looked so pretty and her hair was black back then.  In fact she sure did maintain it as black for a long long time.  Dad would wear a tie and felt hat.

Sometimes we would have a sunrise service on a hill where there generally were three crosses planted.  I hated getting up early enough to make it but once I was there I thought it was fantastic.  After the services there were Easter egg hunts and food on the grounds of the church.  Sometimes the day before Easter we would have large gatherings at the school for a celebration  of Easter.  All the men would gather up the eggs which had been colored over the last several days and they would make us kids hide while they hid the eggs.  Back then they would tape a penny or nickle or even a dime to an egg for something special.  I always wanted to get the most.  It was a real competition and just about everyone in town would come to the festivities.

Well, what else did I love about Easter?  It was all about new beginnings and I really think that is why the celebration of Jesus and His Resurrection was in the spring.   Think about it, the grass starts turning green again, the wheat starts thickening, the calves start gaining weight, new calves and pigs and lambs are being born and even the chickens start producing more as the days are getting longer.  The cellar where all the winter food was stored is starting to get bare and it is time to clean it and get ready for another canning season.  The cattle get less interested in coming in to the pickup loaded with hay because there is fresh grass to be eaten.  That is also when the fishing starts to get going and we start going to the creek on a regular basis to drop in a line.

One last thing today and that is if you have never smelled the fresh turned soil just before planting or the fresh rain in spring with that really clean smell you are not spending enough time outside.  GO right now and experience the joy of spring.

What do you learn in the Osage?

• Spring is full of joy if you look for it
• Exercise and being outdoors is a privilege, take advantage, NOW
• Jesus is the real reason for the season

Thanks for your time,

gary@thepioneerman.com

Mendachurch

I am going to start out by telling you I am struggling with how to tell you about an exciting journey we are on.  The reason I struggle is that I do not want you to think I am doing this for my personal benefit or to get attention from you or anyone else.  I have tried several times to write about this but just could not figure out how to tell you. In fact I had not planned to write about it at all except there were a few folks asking me to keep them informed using my blog and that seemed like a good place to provide the updates and in the end I might just use Facebook.  We will see how that goes.  So here it goes.

Starting a few months ago a couple, Chris and Suzzette, proposed a question which made it to the church bulletin.  The question was, ".. would you consider being part of a group who would work with churches needing help.....".  The name of the group is Mendachurch and if that does not make sense let me tell you how I have cleared up the meaning for folks, Fixachurch.  If you still don't get it here is my last shot, Fix A Church.  They had identified a need for many older churches  where the population was growing older and the attendance was dropping and they just needed some help making some changes to keep the church from dying.  From what I understand The Cowboy Church has effectively done the same.  So here we go.

Well the planning, praying, visiting with folks, studying demographics, organizing and just plain getting ready is over.  Next Sunday we, five couples and their families, are going to Kentucky Avenue Baptist Church in Oklahoma City to help facilitate a reshaping of a church where almost everything has changed around the church besides the church itself.  The church is still alive and a living breathing Christ centered organization with folks who want to do God's will but demographics have changed.  This church has about 62 average attendance each Sunday but at one time was almost 700.  The community has changed and the leadership at this church still works hard but more change is necessary to reach those that live around it.  Almost 75% of the population is Hispanic within 1 mile of the building.  The average age at this church is (guessing) over 70 and perhaps close to 80.  The primary leadership of the church is 80 to 92 years of age.  They are great folks with great hearts who want to serve the Lord but need some help.  They have invited us to help.  

I wish I could say we have a detailed plan but we don't.  We have some ideas and concepts that should be helpful and we have worked to identify things which should change to reach the community but next Sunday, Easter Sunday, we will be joining in their fellowship.  You may ask yourself what are we going to do this first few weeks and I would tell you we are going to show up and become part of their fellowship.  

Now let me step back a few steps and give you some things we have thought about.  Sure we need to reach out to the Hispanic community but we are not experts on that and we will have to figure out how.  Yes, we do not speak Spanish and it will be difficult.  We love football with an oblong ball not soccer which is their passion.  We do like Mexican food but I am not sure if what we like is what they like so how will we ever have a potluck?  We are white and they are brown, will they trust us?  If we want to include them should we change a few things that might make it more inviting like having a sign in Spanish?  The music they listen to is different than what is on our radios and certainly in our church service.  Our style is just different so do we change or change them?  I suggest we have to modify our thinking if we want to get to know them.  We don't have answers other than one thing, we are available.  My family is excited about this opportunity to do something different and hopefully make a difference.  If you are visiting in the area feel free to come and join in on Sunday mornings about 9 a.m. for Sunday School and around 10:45 for church.

We have decided to create a Mendachurch Facebook so I suggest that is where we will keep our updates and occasionally I will write about our experiences here at The Pioneer Man.

Thanks for your time,
gary@thepioneerman.com

Spring!!!!!!

Spring and especially March is one of my fondest times of the year.  It was always time for the Osage County Spring Livestock Show which was normally starting about March 8th each year and it was also time to plant potatoes and onions and to prepare the garden.  Great times.

The garden changed over the years but when I was younger the garden was north of the house and about 1 to 2 acres.  It was huge.  Dad loved to plant potatoes as he grew up on potato farming.  He was especially fond of sweet potatoes but we primarily planted white potatoes or Idaho potatoes as a lot of folks referred to them.  We would take about 100 pounds of seed potatoes and cut them into fourths making sure there were eyes on each forth.  An eye on a potato is where a sprout would start and a sprout was the beginning of a vine and leaves.  The potato would follow that by starting to root once in the ground.  When we planted you had to make sure the eyes were pointed up.  We used a small Allis Chalmers narrow front tractor and a plow to create the ditches where we planted the potatoes.  Basically you would load up all  you could carry and start walking down those long rows with a gunny sack of potatoes and drop one about every 18 inches.   Then you would step on it to make sure it was firmly in the ground an no air was around the potato before you covered it up.  If there was someone helping they would be covering up the potatoes as you planted else you got to go back and cover them up yourself.  Debbie and Larry always seemed to be there helping and frankly I loved it.

Another great sign of spring was the rhubarb beginning to peak out of the ground with its leaves tightly wadded up and getting ready to unfold as the spring warming began.  The rhubarb was planted under the eve or next to the chicken house on the east side to protect it from summer heat and to allow snow to gather on top of the plants during winter to harden the roots.  Later on  we down sized the garden to about 1/2 an acre which is still huge by most folks standards and moved it to just east of the chicken house which was south of the house and east of the round barn (see the picture).  It was this move that allowed the successful growing of the rhubarb which is still about my most favorite pie. Luckily my sweet sister will make me one on occasion and yes I am making this plug so she will remember to make another one.  The other advantage of moving the garden not including just making it smaller to reduce the amount of work is that it was close to stock pins where we worked cattle and wintered a few steers for eating and prior to that it is where the dairy cows would wait to be milked.  Now if it is still not obvious what that is reflecting is that there was a lot of manure that piled up over the years there and as it composted it made great fertilizer for the garden.  That stuff was so hot that weeds had trouble growing in it but when you added it to the soil in the garden it was just right.  Kinda like the porridge in the three bears story.

It was this combination of manure and soil that made for some of the greatest gardens you ever saw.  We put up literally thousands of pounds of potatoes every year in the cellar for winter eating.  It also made for a fantastic crop of fresh green beans.  Now you may not know it but the best eat'n is when you take fresh new potatoes and especially the small ones and cook them up with fresh green beans and a little bacon and salt and pepper, WOW!  Making me hungry.

Well I might have to continue this one later so what do you learn in the Osage?

• The rewards of hard work are great eat'n
• A little crap can go a long way in making a good garden
• Some folks are entrepreneurs and some folks are full of manure

Thanks for your time and let me know if this brings back a few memories or drives you to the garden,

gary@thepioneerman.com

How do you prepare if you don't know where you are going?

What a great question and I really have enjoyed taking a few minutes thinking about how I was prepared as a youngster and as I got older in the work place.  I especially remember every year when tractor driving time came (that is called farming) and Dad would spend hours preparing the tools before we started.  I don't remember how often but it seemed like every spring we would change all the oil and filters in the tractors and apply grease to everything that needed it.  Now I know young folks don't know what grease really is.  They think it has something to do with bacon or fat in their foods.  Well grease comes in a few forms but on the farm there was grease for tools where you took a grease gun and attached it to a zerk where you would pump the baring full of grease.  The other type of grease you could not squeeze out of anything as it was so thick it was hard to dig into with your fingers and it was used for packing wheel barrings.  Well the other things you did was checking the plows, discs, spring tooth, or chisel (all farm equipment) and make sure nothing was broke.  Everyone had a welder to make repairs as there was surely broken parts.  If you could not find a part in the junk pile or use the welder to fix it you had to drive to Sedan, Kansas or Ark City to get parts.

Now I know farming has changed a lot but every spring it was about prepare first then plant.  It did not matter if it were the garden or the fields of wheat, alfalfa, or sorghum or whatever, you had to get things ready.  When you were not getting ready to plant you were getting ready to harvest.  There was always something to do and it never started much after daylight or it seemed like it was never complete at all much less before dark.  Now that I think about it there was never any paid overtime, guaranteed benefits other than we got to sleep and for the most part we always got to eat.  Anyway what was interesting about farm life is you were always preparing for something, even retirement.  Some folks retirement was dependent on their kids taking care of the farm and thus the parents.  Some folks retirement was how long can I work  before physically not being able work and hopefully the debt was paid down enough that Mom could get along without DAD.  In our case Dad went to work at the post office as a side job so he could build up a retirement.  Most just had to pay down debt and hope there was enough money left over to put back for retirement.  What are you doing?  OUCH!

Thinking back over things I remember Mom always telling me to go to school and I think she was just  preparing me for a future.  Planning?  If you don't plan you are planning to fail is one of my favorite sayings.  I guess I could plan for the government to take care of me, hum?  The government is heading toward a $20 trillion deficit.  Perhaps farmers and little small town folks are a whole lot smarter than big city folks who think we should not prepare by having the government handle it.

By the way I think I came up with something original the other day.  Publicans are by definition tax collectors and if a tax collector collects taxes over and over again wouldn't they be re-publicans?

So what do you learn in the Osage?

• prepare - preparation is central to be independent
• work like everything depends on you and have faith like everything depends on God
• don't be  a re-publican but be a ??????????, OH get over it, it was for fun.

Thanks for your time,

gary@thepioneerman.com

Life is a Journey not a destination

It is always an opinion that gets you in trouble but here I am getting ready to give you a few opinions that resonate with me.  First off I believe that life is a journey and not a destination.  I could give you my theological opinion and that is that eternity with Christ is my destination and this life is just my journey to get to know Christ.  But today I am just going to give a psychological opinion on why this perspective is better than thinking everything you do is about a goal rather than a journey.

If everything I do is about the goal then I would believe that every time I miss the goal I would have some sort of depression or feeling of failure and when I achieve it the only satisfaction would be of some superiority complex.  Now don't get me wrong as I am passionate about my goals just like every time I played a game in sports I desperately wanted to win.  Every time I went to bat in baseball all I could think about was getting a hit.  My anxiety would sky rocket as in getting the butterflies before a game.  I was intense and wanted to win with a passion.  I was always disappointed when I struck out or missed a tackle or heaven forbid that I would fumble the ball when I was full back in football (the oblong ball).  Now think on this for a while if I just hit 30% of the time in baseball I could be in the hall of fame!  WOW!  That sounds like a pretty high failure rate.   In basketball is you make over 50% of your shots in the field you are great and if you make over 90% of the free throws you are in the very elite in America.  Keep in mind that the basketball court and free throw lines are the same in grade school as in the pros.

Back to my point, goals are great but GROWTH is greater.  Let me say it another way.  If each time I lose I get a little better meaning that my lows are always a little higher than my previous lows isn't that a much better measure of success?  Another way to say it is:  if I was really good in the beginning and the end I was the same place I was when I began, can I say I was successful?  Which do you admire most the person who was the smartest or fastest or the person who overcame some difficulty and became the best?  Wes Welker (football player just traded to Denver from New England Patriots) from Oklahoma was too small to be recruited by any college in Division One and in fact was a walk on and the last person accepted to Texas Tech scholarship but they had one left he showed heart.  When the pro draft was open he was not much to consider and most teams did not even give a minimal consideration to draft him.  He has become one of the greatest receivers in the NFL and not for one year but for many years.  What gets you more motivated, a genius who went to Harvard and developed Facebook or the son of an English teacher who took his uncle's BBQ sauce recipe and made it one of the best know BBQ sauce brands in America.  How about the son of a big time movie star who becomes a drug attic or alcoholic (happens all the time) or the small town boy who follows his passion and becomes a movie start who happens to have a son who does well and the son maintains his family image and does well like Ben Johnson or Lance Howard  both parents of famous Hollywood actors.  Do I need to tell you the names and where they came from?

• Danny Head son of the marvelous English teacher Helen Head
• Ben Johnson Jr. son of Ben Johnson Sr.
• Ron Howard son of Lance Howard

All of Osage Country fame.  The list can be very long but I would bet you that everyone of these folks are thankful for the ones who built and protected this country not the politicians or government bureaucrats who risk nothing, STOP.  I was regressing into my feelings toward big government.  But I do think everyone of us should be thankful for those who went before us that upheld HONOR, INTEGRITY, LOYALTY TO COUNTRY, HONOR TO GOD and risked their lives for us so that we may experience the journey of freedom in America.  

Back to the beginning.  Isn't the trip the most fun not the destination?  To make my point one last time think about when you have invested your time and energy in being with your family and in particular your children and the joy of that time together knowing that they are going to have a better life because you experienced the journey together.  Memories are best shared.

Thanks for your time,

gary@thepioneerman.com

Peckerwood

What a name!  I never knew what it meant except that my dad called me Peckerwood many times.  I think he just loved me and that was how he said it.  How can a name without meaning say, "I love you"?  Dad just had a way with some of the simplest words.  He, Clifford Woodrow Olson, took simple words and gave them meaning.  It was in his tough country voice but his smile captured you and told me that he cared.

On occasion when he wanted  you to know for sure he was pulling your leg he would push his tongue in the side of his jaw so that it stuck out like there was a big wad of chewing tobacco and then he would roll it around.  His sense of humor was inspiring and always close by.  One of my favorite sayings was when we were planting some bermuda grass seed and he made the comment, "that seed is small than nat shit".  Now if that does not draw a picture for you let me explain.  A nat is smaller then the head of a pin and probably about 1/4 that size so nat shit had to be smaller than that.  Dad could draw a picture so clear in just a few words.  I admired my dad's ability to think so quick and tell stories that just resonated with me for life.

I don't know if everything he said was original but there were some of his antics or jokes that will never leave me and I would like to leave them with you and especially my children.  For example he would hold up his index finger like it were a hook and ask you, "what is this?".  It was obvious it was a hook and when I answered such he would say, "no, it is a shit hook".  Then he would immediately reach over and hook onto you/me which implied that a shit hook - hooks shit which would obviously mean you/me was shit.  Oh get your underwear out of a wad over my use of the word shit.  Another one that dad would often use was he would hold out his fist and ask, "what is this?".  He would say it is a fart knocker and then immediately start knocking on your head or mine.  Sure these all seem silly but there was something magnetic about Dad and his humor.  Folks just liked to hear his jokes and mostly his stories.

Here are several of the small stories he told.

Dad was getting fat in his old age as he would say.  He made the remark many times that he was at least 145 pounds soaking wet.  That was the truth, he never weighed much over that if any.

He had a bald spot on the back side of his head about 1 and 1/2 inches long and a little over 1/8 inch wide.  I asked him how that happened and he said that he smarted off to his brother who had an ax in his hand at the time.  He said he never bled much but his hair never grew back in that spot.

Dad was a very close friend of Bill Olsen and Dad and Bill liked to pull tricks on folks.  One time they planted something that resembled a giant spider on the stairs to scare Larry Olsen as they knew he did not like spiders.  From what I understood they got in big trouble with Nanny over that one.

It was David or Bob Harris's wedding and dad stuffed his hankerchief in the exhaust pipe so the get away car would not run.  If you don't understand the problem it is that when an exhaust pipe/muffler is stopped up it creates a back pressure and the car will not start.  It is the same reason you don't drive a car through high water as it will choke out the engine.

Now that I think about all this I remember that there were many a man who told stories and hung around Dad.  One of them was Bill Wolfe's dad who would come out to the Pumpkin Patch in Edmond at Penn and 178th which is where we lived and yes it is called Clifford Farms after my dad.  Now Mr. Wolfe and Dad and really about all of the men I recall had one thing in common.  They smoked cigarettes.  So I think we can scientifically conclude that smoking is what causes old men to be able to tell stories.  That makes about as much sense as that the government is here to help you.

Well what do you learn in the Osage?

• Peckerwood means, "I love you"

Thanks for your time,

gary@thepioneerman.com

WINGS A Special Needs Community | Welcome

WINGS A Special Needs Community | Welcome

Ice and Snow

Growing up on the farm always meant there was something to do so when the snow and ice came for the most part it was a time to celebrate.  Chores were minimized but absolutely not eliminated.  Living in the country had its benefits but chores had to be done.  For example we had to feed the cows and calves, chickens and pigs and yes a few sheep.  We also had to make sure they could get water.  Everyone knew that water was more critical than food.  Luckily we had a creek that had running water so most of the animals and in particular the cattle could get a drink no matter what.  But there were cattle in pastures where there was not running water and in fact those were the places we had ponds (remember the frog gigging story) to capture water for the livestock.  The hardest part about this was that as the winter days dragged out the ponds would freeze over and sometimes get 6 to 12 inch thick ice on them.  We would have to take an ax, plus shovels, plus sledge hammers and go chop ice holes for the cattle every day.  Now that may not sound too bad but if you had to do it very often it is the one thing I always said I would never come back to the farm to do, chop ice.  I would have to tell you today that I would gladly buy back our farm and ranch and chop ice in the winter if Dee Johnson would sell it, at a reasonable price of course.

One of the things I did like about the ice was on occasion we, Larry and I, would take a chunk of ice and take some home made hockey sticks and play hockey on the ice.  It was a lot of fun until you would hear the cracking of the ice which scared the heck out of us.  If you fell in it was sure death in those cold waters and being out in the country.  One of the things I did not like was when you cut the ice there was mud that developed and your feet would get sucked into it and it was cold and getting colder the longer you stood there and chopped.  In fact it was easier to stand on the ice and chop toward the shore than stand on the shore and chop ice.

The view outside our house was absolutely incredible after a big snow.  One year we had about a 13 inch snow fall and the only way out was dad taking the Alice Chalmers tractor and driving up to Vea Harris's house where Cack Harrington had already cleared the roads so dad could carry the mail.  He had parked his pickup at Vea's house so he could carry the mail.  Of course not everyone could get their mail due to the snow but dad did his part.

The other great part was dad built massive sleds for us that we could take to the hills and slide around for hours only to come back to the warm fireplace and mom's cooking.  I think mom thoroughly enjoyed seeing us play so hard and then come in to warm up.  The snow and ice was caked on our shoes and clothes.  In fact the shoe laces were so covered you coul hardly untie them.  Probably one of the greatest reasons snow was so much fun is that we knew we had taken care of the animals and mom and dad basically turned us loose to have fun as if it were a national holiday.  Those were joyful times in our house as the days went by we always had the same routine of work, play and eat.  Now I would also have to tell you we did not watch a lot of TV and in fact we played games as a family.  Great fun!  Great times!

So what do you learn in the Osage?

• Work is what you make it, not what it makes you.
• Responsibility comes first before play along with a good attitude
• Planning is important, plan for the winter and plan for the fun

Have a great day and thanks for your time,

gary@thepioneerman.com

Squirrel hunting

One of my favorite times was going hunting with my brother Larry Olson who I have looked up to all my life.  I should say Dr. Larry Olson as he spent the time to get that dadgummed thing and it took an extra 4 years of school and a lot of hard work.  Anyway Larry was always a very focused and disciplined person except for the one time he ran over me with the pickup and I will have to tell you that story sometime.  By the way in case you are wondering I did live.  Man I hope you figured that out on your own.  OK, OK.  Larry could do about anything and he would always do it well or should I say great.  Where he lacked talent he made up with determination and practice.  Well outside of fishing I think hunting was my favorite thing to do with him and most of the time I liked it better than fishing.  The only thing I did not like was he could do both better than me.

Well I would have to say that about once a week especially during the fall and winter we would hunt.  We hunted primarily two things, squirrels and quail.  Living on Beaver Creek we had lots of timber (trees) and there were lots of oaks with acorns and many walnut trees.  If you have never had black walnuts to eat then you have never had a real walnut.  They are amazing.  Anyway in those trees after the leaves had dropped you could see the squirrel nests.  Basically they were large balls of leaves and twigs put together up in the trees where the wind and rain and weather would not bother the squirrels.  Sure there were squirrels who lived in holes in trees but mostly they lived in those nests.  Our trees were generally pretty tall and I would estimate 30 to 50 feet tall.  Some of the oak trees and cotton woods would be so big you could not get your arms and body even half way around the trunk of the tree.  Another thing you should know is we did not have these sissy little grey squirrels that live around the cities and are like rats everywhere.  We had giant red squirrels which are about four times bigger.  The squirrels were fast and very sneaky.  Larry and I would get up and out about day light to go hunting and you had to sneak up on the squirrels to keep from spooking them.

Generally Larry always carried the 22 rifle and I would carry a 410 shot gun.  Once in a while we would shoot a squirrel and they would run into the nest and we could not retrieve them as the nests were so far out on a limb that you could not get to them.  But, dad always came through and he insisted that if you killed a squirrel then you had better figure out a way to get it down out of those nests.  Well, we heated the house with wood and one small gas heater in the hallway but the primary heat source in winter was firewood.  So if you have any thinking skills you figured out that dad would make us get the chain saw and cut down the tree to get the squirrel and that tree became the firewood for winter cold nights.  It was really a pretty good system and I really did not mind as I liked to work outside and cutting and splitting wood was something I enjoyed most of the time.

Once you recovered the squirrel it was time to clean it.  That meant cleaning out the guts and skinning it.  Squirrel hide is the most difficult hide there is when you are cleaning an animal.  But once you got that squirrel cleaned and washed up mom was ready to put on the cast iron skillet with some Crisco (grease) and fry it until a nice crispy covering.  Sometimes she would make squirrel gravy and MAN! I would have to tell you that was "some good eat'n"!  I would also have to say that mom taught my sister Debbie to be a great cook as well.  I don't remember Debbie ever going hunting but she would go fishing on occasion.  Mostly she liked to cook and I think she took great pleasure in spoiling her brothers and especially me.

So what do you learn in the Osage?

• Eat what you kill
• Clean your plate, there are people starving in China
• Exercise and outdoors are the keys to a happy life and it is the easiest place to go and see God's greatest work.  
• It is impossible to be an outdoors man and not believe in God.
• How stupid is it to believe a BIG Bang could have created the variety and beauty of nature?

Thanks for your time,

gary@thepioneerman.com

Frog gigging

There are a lot  of theories about frog gigging and I am confident it has changed over the years.  Prior to the modern form, using a 22 rifle, we used to find a long stick which we would sharpen creating a spear.  A lot of folks liked a double headed spear as it was easier to retrieve the frog with a double headed spear.

In fact that reminds me of a couple of things that have changed over the years.  Number 1, everyone carried a pocket knife and a few actually had a leather holster where they carried their Bowie knife.  As I remember David Howell, probably the smartest person I have ever known, always carried his knife right on his hip.  Second, we all took them to school where we continually worked on our skills at sharpening and throwing.  Yes we sure did!  During lunch we would take our knives out and show each other our throwing skills and we would compete to be the best at sharpening knives.  I was always impressed as both AJ Jacques and Jon Tanny Olsen seemed to always be the best at sharpening but David was a pretty good sharpener and he could really throw.  I should also explain that the way you tested how sharp your knife was is could you shave your arm or leg with it.  One of the games we played was 'chicken' which was basically throwing your knife at each others feet and seeing who could get the closest without injuring someone.  Generally it was a good idea to wear heavy leather boots if you wanted to play.  Some folks wore tennis shoes and that was just not too smart.  Once I remember AJ stabbing someone's foot and as I recall I think he got his boot cut pretty good one time.

OK, back to frog gigging. Once you located a nice long straight stick you would take out your knife and sharpen it like a spear.  After practicing a few times off to the ponds we went.  There we would hunt for a green bullfrog sticking his head up along the shore.  As a stealth hunter you had to move very slowly toward the frog to get in striking distance.  Slowly you would draw back your arm with the spear and with a swift motion you would hopefully get the frog.  There was one strategy that worked pretty good and that was night hunting using a flashlight to keep the frog from jumping as you shined the light in their eyes.  Well I have to tell you that if my eating depending on my spear hunting skills I would be dramatically smaller than I am.  Luckily we also had 22 rifles.

Larry, my brother, and I would take our single shot 22 and go hunting on many occasion.  Mostly we hunted squirrels but frogs were fun and excellent eating material.  We only ate the legs, fried of course.    Again it was a game of stealth as those frogs would jump in a hurry and you had to be careful not to shoot so close that you would bury the frog in the mud due to the power of the bullet.  One of the great things about frog hunting is we had lots of ponds (city folks call them lakes and some folks who need an education call them tanks, tanks are metal and ponds are dirt) which had lots of frogs.  You could sit on the porch of the house at night and hear frogs of every type and from as far away as a 1/4 to 1/2 mile.  It was like a symphony of frogs and if you added in the crickets it was off the charts with racket.

Well what do you learn in the Osage?

• There is always something to do, like frog gigging
• Knives and guns are not bad but bad people can have knives and guns
• no that is NOT political but just a fact.  The real problem is we don't punish criminals and we don't have consequences for bad behavior and we don't teach morals and discipline and we blame everyone else for bad behavior.  
• Creativity is born of the spirit of challenge and intrigue and opportunity not regurgitation of facts from a book upon a test.  If you don't believe me who would you rather have running your company?
• There is nothing better than living in the country and especially the Osage.

I love America,

Thanks for your time,

gary@thepioneerman.com