Pappa Hardy's Musings on Life.

You might think that this comment would be regarding conversation between two consenting adults. Nope!! You are wrong. Its about a very mundane thing that happens when a family and all of its extended connections get together. Yup, we are talking garbage cans overflowing, and garbage day at least a week away.

It happens at my house when the whole fam damily arrives, and it has happened here in Cheyenne, Wyoming, when the whole fam damily arrives and we produce sack after sack of garbage. Yesterday, I think I personally hauled out 5-8 sacks of garbage and the trash can, which only gets emptied graciously by the city once a week, is over flowing and then some.

I think it may be time to make a garbage run to city dump. Of course, given the time of year in Cheyenne, the chances that the place would actually be open is about zero, and if we take the sacks out there, the chances are high they will be in Lincoln, Nebraska before sunset.

I hate scales. Why in the heck do they have to be so truthful? Why is it that they tell you that you have gained some weight when in fact you are just sure that you have lost 5 pounds? I know that those darned scales have got to be lying to me. I am not that big, not really. I am sure that they manufacture scales just to afflict and torment man, at least those who tend to pay attention to them. There was a time when I didn’t way myself, sure that I was OK and things are right in my life. When I discovered all things weren’t right, and then became well acquainted with scales, that is when I realized that I Hate Scales.

We traveled recently for 12 hours, together in the car. One thing became clear and is a truism for the Mike Hardy Family. My wife is the family comedian. She had us rolling in the aisles. She is a very funny person, sometimes on purpose, but sometimes just because she has a great sense of humor and says funny things. I love and appreciate, most of the time, her sense of humor.

Why is it that babies almost universally say the word mama first? That word, as far as I know, appears in a lot of languages in that form. Possibly (I am really speaking out of school here) that is one of the easiest sounds to make for a newborn. As a male, I want to make sure that they say Daddy first. After all, fathers are the most important creatures on the planet. It is just that those sneaky women are with the babies for more of the day than us guys. That is the only real reason, right? Well, regardless, I recently was in a crowd of a lot of non-English foreign speakers and I heard a lot of “mamas” coming out of those child’s mouths, but not much else of their languages made sense to me.

As I am getting older, I take more pleasure in the simple things of life. Of course, some of these simple things have changed since I was a kid. Tonight is Halloween. When I was a “youngster”, which my children will say never occurred, I remember getting dressed up in our rather simple costumes (I always went as Freddy the Freeloader) and we would run around the neighborhood, getting our trick or treat candy.

Now, we do it differently. In our neighborhood here in the land of Payson, we have a cul de sac near our home. The whole neighborhood gathers and we have what is affectionally called our Cul De Sac A Treat. The parents, who are usually dressed much more than the kids, come and then hand out the goodies to all the kids (and some of the bigger kids, aka adults). You sometimes have the same people come around three of four times, but what the heck. It is so fun seeing all of the kids all dressed up, it takes about an hour, and everyone enjoys the chance to get together and chat.

Later on, we don’t have many kids come to the door, but it is so fun to just see the little ones enjoy themselves. It helps to defray that gnawing that comes from knowing that we are missing the Halloweens four our own grandkids. I would have loved to visit with them.

I looked out the window this Saturday morning. I saw evidence of the changing of the seasons. I guess there is nothing so constant as change, and now the season are a changing. I love the fall colors. I just don’t like the winter that follows the colors. They say that the colors are due to the shorter days and the trees starting to change and prepare for winter. I long for a warmer climate, which I guess is an indication that I am getting older too and that the seasons are changing for me. Is that why we change colors, from uniform beautiful tans to blotches on our arms where we have pigment spots. I love the fall. I just don’t care for the winter.

That title above is reserved for a booklet and program that exists within the youth program for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. It is to that program, that I do not refer. Instead, I refer to the feats of youth, particularly those of my son. Michael this morning ran in a 10K and had a personal best time of 51:45. While that is by far not the best time that was run this morning, it is an improvement of his previous personal best. I love the youth that can move forward and improve and become better. For me, it seems that each minute, each hour, each day, month, and year, finds me physically getting a little bit worse and worse. Ah, to have the strength of youth again. I just now need to find a Fountain of Youth.

For some reason that must be in our race subconscious, Bacon tastes better if you eat it amongst the pines, or the tress, or at least somewhere in the great outdoors. I think we as a people enjoy being out amongst nature. I know I do, and it tastes even better if you are having a nice conversation with a group of people that you care about. Being a loner, in the sterile inner city environment does not afford as nice an experience than when you are among friends.

My IPAQ is dying. I have usually seemed to go through PDAs really quick for about a couple of years, but for the last 5 years or so my IPAQ has functioned adequately. Now, it is dying. I am having trouble with the power function and I fear that it is going the way of all good things.

I am sorry for the death of my old friend. It has served me well. I am not quite sure what I am going to do without it. I must now think of replacing it. I am not quite sure that is a correct thing to do, but I don’t know how I otherwise will live without out. I feel so badly about the death of an old friend.

Anyone who has seen Alfred Hitchcocks movie the Birds might be afraid of any grouping of birds where none have been before. We however, have our own birds that have been overrunning the Hardy residence.

It all started in Bonnies vain attempt to get some wildlife other than our cat and the pesky wasps/yellow jackets/black widows that seem to inhabit these parts. She had always wanted a hummingbird feeder, and last year bought the first one, that never even got posted outside. Then this year she bought an additional feeder and I then knew I was in trouble.

Earlier this summer I finally broke down and put up the pole on our deck that the feeders were supposed to be on. Having done so, she looked on the internet, found a solution to make up and voila, instant birds. Well, maybe not instant. First, nothing came. She changed the color of the solution. Then, finally, one bird. Not too long and we had a whole gaggle of hummingbirds flying around the deck in the backyard. At one time this week we counted a total of nine at one time, darting around the feeders, making themselves at home. Of course, our cat, aka Snowball, aka HIF, is so old and weak that he is no longer in hunting mode so they are safe. What has made it really nice so far is that there doesn’t seem to be a lot of bird droppings accompanying the birds. Maybe Tippi Hendron would be safe here.