Why Dogs are Idiots

  Let me preface this blog by saying that there actually are smart dogs amongst us. They are few and far between, but they do exist. These are the elite dogs. They are the dogs that may very well graduate summa cum laude, and may be on the verge of being promoted.

  Promoted to what you ask? Who cares! Any dog promotion is better than being a normal idiot dog. Maybe they will be promoted to a human. However, these promoted dogs will probably struggle with fractions and assessment tests after being promoted.

  I am convinced that dogs are a result of regeneration or reincarnation gone bad. Yes, it all makes sense to me now, since I have been living with two visiting dogs for more than a month. These two dogs are idiots. I will refer to them as "MJ" and "DK". MJ is the bigger idiot of the two as well as the younger. DK is calmer, but an idiot nonetheless. While watching the pure and unblemished stupidity of these dogs I have come to the realization that their existence must be a punishment or just plain Karma. I understand that the conservative religious sector of society will call my thoughts heretical, but they would do well to hear my gf logic.

  This line of thinking has made me look inwards at my own failures and idiotic behaviors during my life. High School alone may send me to a dog existence. I am going to be very careful moving forward so as to limit my idiotic instances.

  It makes perfect sense that the creator of life would provide the dog world as a retraining ground for humans. If you are an unadulterated bonafide idiot your entire life you will be become a dog. It is simple as that. An idiot does not need to be a human anymore. Humans were designed to live on a higher plane than that of a regular idiot. Maybe if you fail at being a dog you will become something else. MJ is well on her way to becoming a Jack Ass in her next life. The only way she will prevent this inevitable event is to pull a "Lassie" moment out of her butt.

http://www.jokeroo.com/pictures/animal/yoga-dog.html

 DK will remain a dog. She is sneaky and conniving and takes great pleasure in getting MJ in trouble. She will have plenty of company on her next go around though. I predict a great dog boom in the next several generations of dog life. It is mind boggling how many more dogs are being created by humans every year. For example, I would estimate that seventy-five percent of our great leaders in Washington are headed for a dog's life.

  Why else would be dogs be so kiss-ass? Man's best friend... yea, I know why. Trying to get out of dog world they are. Cats are not like this, neither are parakeets, and fish could give a crap about humans. It is only the canine who is interested in being "part of the family". Do not be lulled into this web of deceit. Cats are perfectly fine being cats. They actually relish being a cat. A cat has no desire in the world to be anything different than a cat. It is as if they have finally arrived in THE perfect world... Cat world. Cat world is full of naps, special food, and licking. Who would want more?

  What happens to dogs who fail at dog world...MJ? It is a frightening thought indeed. I suggested a rat world to the family, but that idea was rejected. "Rats are way too smart and resilient." Then I guess that puts the Cockroach out of the running as well... Squirrels have way to much fun... uh, let's just go with a toad. Karma can go downhill fast from a toad. If you fail as a toad you may end up as a snail. Insects have to be at the end of the road. This is why ants and bees bust ass to get things done. It really must suck being an ant. Bees work hard to just be ripped off. That sucks. Worms, yes the worm world is the end of the line.

 Some idiot folk may just skip the dog world.
 "Hey what ever happened to that creepy lady who got Obama Care to "work"?"
       "Oh, I heard that she is now one of those deep sea fish who glow green and have ugly teeth."

 Look around yourself this week and try to figure out which of the people that you come in contact with are going to become dogs. Then, just for fun, try to figure out what kind of dog they will become.

Why then are dogs idiots? Well, because they are and always have been idiots. They have worked real hard for a very long time at being idiots.  Let's hope that they can focus and not become a toad.

Reincarnation is an interesting thought isn't it? I've been thinking a lot about dogs lately.

Thanks for reading,
gf

Sweet Corn Sex Education

  I am a city-boy trapped in my city-boy ignorance. Therefore, I seek out information from farmers whenever possible, just in case all of the farmers get annihilated by the big meteor (... and we all know that is coming soon, even though some preachers are lousy at predicting exactly when). 

  After the meteor disaster occurs, city residents will ask me the farming questions... such as... How does one grow strawberries? How does one breed cows? How does one make cheese? How does one raise bees? How does one raise chickens? How does one make bread from scratch? How does one grow corn? What are the (specific) ingredients in "The Recipe" from Walton's Mountain? 

  I respect farmers and gardeners. Do not be deceived by the farmer-folk mannerisms. They know if hens make noise when laying eggs. They know about plants. They can raise goats and Guineas, and farmer kids know about sex way before the city kids do.

The following is a guest post by my farmer-friend Beth. Her family has been farming "forever". The following is how one "does" corn. 

  The story begins with an evening phone call from my Mother. “You wanna do corn in the morning?” (Why it seems like just days earlier, my Father was standing in my kitchen complaining about the rising price of the sweet corn seed. Now we are here already?) I answer "Why yes, we can do that.".

  My Father plants about four rows (50 feet long each) of sweet corn in the family vegetable garden every year. Sometimes it rains, sometimes it does not, sometimes the deer and the 'coon eat it all. Last year my Father was ill, and it did not rain, and the deer were hungry. That was not a good year, but usually there is enough (enough to pick, shuck, cut, blanch and freeze) to keep everyone happy throughout the winter. 

  When the corn has matured (to a point to when one pierces the kernel some milk squirts out) it is ready. My family is picky. Why do all this work if it is not perfect? So when it is perfect, we “DO” corn. 

  It starts early in the morning as the sun is rising. Daddy’s job is to pick, and it must be done while the corn is cool and damp from a bit of dew. He fills the back of his pickup truck with anywhere from 45-to 100 ears of corn (as I said depending on the rain and critters).

  Next Mom will arrive. She will have all the necessary equipment with her including her red chair. Yep, she brings her own chair. This red chair is one of those typical kitchen chairs, red vinyl, with the steps that pull out from under the seat - anyway she cannot cut corn without it. She will also have her strawberry short cake pan  (an over sized deep sided cake pan), two or maybe three very sharp knives, her cigarettes, and her tumbler filled with ice and coke.

  I will be waiting to get that first cup of coffee, checking to see if the skillets are clean, and looking to see that I bought enough zip lock bags. 

  When I look out and see the pickup parked in the shade, the shucking begins. This shucking and cutting process is all accomplished outside. When cutting corn the way that we do it splatters all over everything, and that mess is not wanted on the kitchen cabinets. Daddy will have started shucking, and mother will be positioned on her chair waiting for the first ear. “Get those kids out of bed, and get them down here to help”.

  I hope you can picture this scene as well as I ever so fondly recall. Three teenagers half asleep shucking, Mother and I cutting, swatting flies. Then my father (who is a man of very few words) will begin to speak to his grandchildren about corn. Now what some of you may or may not know is that each baby kernel on the cob has a single strand of silk running to it. In order for the baby to grow, the silk strand must have one drop of pollen from the top tassel fall and “pollinate” the silk. Thus, a baby kernel will produce (that is if it rains and the critters are scarce). There you have it, and that is when my father smiles his proud smile having given his children sex education in its purest form. After the corn is all shucked, the kids announce they are going back to bed (it is after all summer vacation). My mother and I finish up the cutting. Here, I will revel to you what is considered to be one of the family secrets to cutting corn. You must scrape the cob after the corn is cut and capture every bit of the juice. This is very important. Now you do not have to bite the ends of each raw cob before you toss it back into the truck (like mom does - I don’t). She cannot stand to have that last little baby kernel she missed with her knife go to waste. She is crazy like that. 

Beth's Corn Pudding

  Into the kitchen, we go. The corn is put into a skillet just a couple of cups at a time with some of the juice/milk and cooked over a medium heat for just a few minutes (just until it turns color). It is then scooped into zip lock bags (about two cups in each one) with all the air is squeezed out (ALL), and then put into the freezer. Mother will tell me the story about her grandmother "Granny ". She used to put the bags between her legs and squeeze out all the air. These bags of corn will sit in the freezer quietly, until the weather changes (around Thanksgiving). I always bring corn pudding at Thanksgiving and often at any family function. 

  Cook a bag of corn, 2 cups whole milk, 3 to 4 eggs (depending on size) and ½ a stick of melted butter (cooked like a custard) on 325 for about 35-40 minutes-and until golden brown. There is something about the smell of corn pudding cooking in my kitchen. It usually means I got up early and started the day preparing food for a special gathering for those I dearly love. When my children walk into the kitchen and smell that smell, it’s a blending of life’s moments. It is Papa‘s wise words of the birds and the bees, grandma and her red chair and mom cooking in the kitchen. It is the aroma of the family; it is the smell of love.


Thanks for reading,

and thanks to Beth for writing,

gf