Real Men and Fear

I’m afraid…

I’m afraid my daughter might grow up not realizing how much I treasure her. I’m afraid my wife might not know how much I really love her. I’m afraid I will get to the end of my life and realize that I’ve wasted many of my days chasing things that don’t matter. I’m afraid of insignificance. I’m afraid of not being awesome at everything I attempt. I’m afraid of people who would do me and my family harm with no concern whatsoever to the consequence of their actions. I’m afraid of the consequences of some of my actions. I’m afraid of getting passed over and left behind. I’m afraid my life doesn’t matter and my contributions aren’t significant. I’m afraid of getting cancer and dying before I’ve lived the life I always imagined for myself. I’m afraid of knives and guns. I’m afraid of not being liked. I’m afraid of snakes and poisonous spiders and velociraptors… yeah I went there. You would too if you happened to be a child the first time you saw Jurassic Park… those terrible bird-like buggers are some nasty creatures.

I’m afraid of all those things and more, but I don’t let fear paralyze me.

A real man knows that he’ll always have fear. No matter what he does or who he is, there will always be some things that cause him fear. And he’s OK with that because a real man knows how to experience his fear.

He doesn’t shy away from fear. In fact, he doesn’t even try to resist it. He wants to experience the feeling of his fear fully. He acknowledges the presence of fear and seeks to understand its cause. He knows that fear, much like happiness or anger or any other fleeting emotion is just that… a fleeting emotion.

A real man stares fear right in the face, tries to understand it for what it truly is, and then he acts. Continue reading Real Men and Fear

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My Little Victory Garden: Entry Three

Yukon Gold potatoes ~ the debate remains on whether or not you need more than one "eye" per chunk when you plant.

I was talking to my dad on the phone Saturday, sharing with him that I was getting ready to plant potatoes.  He said, “You’re not waiting until St. Patrick’s Day?”  I didn’t even know that was a THING. (Later, I felt slightly better when Mick told me ‘the sign said sometime between February 20th and March 15th.’  Heck, I wasn’t even being risky if we were using the sign’s standard!)

I wonder how many THINGS I don’t know?  I found out another THING while on the phone with him.  He recalled for me that my grandmother Porter (Julie At The Ranch’s great-grandmother as well) used to peel her potatoes fairly thickly, then simply plant the peelings, saving the core to cook for a meal.  Then he, my mother across the room speaking “through” my dad, and I had a third conversation:  How many eyes do you need per chunk of potato planted?  She said two, he said probably just one.  Knowing me, and my inability to identify exactly what constitutes as a bonafide eye, I’ll probably plant three or more.  It’s one thing for roots to be growing forth from the potato, hence easily identifiable makings of a plant.  However, are the little dents with tiny dots in them ALL eyes?  Who knows.  My potato chunks may have four eyes or more due to my lack of experience.

So, earlier that morning, prior to speaking with my dad: I was feeling a little guilty having only purchased three seed potatoes from the feed store.  I looked around a bit more and found a packet of last year’s cucumber seeds for fifty cents.  A discussion ensues…this time with Mick.

Mick: “Don’t you want to buy THIS year’s seeds?”

Me:  “Why?  Don’t you think LAST year’s will grow?”

Mick: “I don’t know.  It’s better to be safe than sorry.”

Me: “Okay, first of all – that’s silly.  Of COURSE they’ll grow.  Secondly, I’m simply trying to find something to add to my potato purchase so the total will be over a dollar.  These are nice people and I’d like to spend more than eighty cents with them!”

Mick (known for always tipping the employees at Sonic more than he should): “Oh, yeah.  Good idea.” Continue reading My Little Victory Garden: Entry Three

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Meanwhile, Back at The Ranch: Estate of Confusion

 

There were TWO of these.

I can’t say that I have always loved garage sales, but in my adult life I have hosted and helped friends with several of them.  I love cleaning out closets, getting up early, and putting similar items together.  However, this weekend our family hosted an estate sale at the home of my father-in-law who passed away last November.  Most of the family showed up to help organize and price the artifacts left behind by their father.

Price.

That’s where I drew the line.

It started a few weekends ago when I went up to help get ready for the sale.  I had cleaned out a few of my own closets and found several things I could do without.  They were donated to the cause without a thought, but then this question kept resurfacing: “Julie, how much do you want to put on this?”  No matter what I said, my suggestion was either too high or too low.  No matter how many times I declined to answer the question, they continued to ask. However, a few of my items were taken home by the family for personal use.  I guess “free” was a good price for those. 🙂

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Goodbye washer and dryer. Hello $100.

One week before the sale, I let a friend do some shopping in the trailer.  She spent $67 on two chairs, a quilt rack and a cat food bowl.   Another friend bought the stereo for $50 and a pair of boots and a napkin holder for $10. Then it happened. “How much do you want for that outdoor furniture?” he asked. “It’s not priced?  Are you sure it doesn’t have a price on it somewhere?” I replied. Really, I looked everywhere.  My husband and I looked at each other.  I had already told him that I was NOT going to price one single item because my prices were always rejected by his family, but he wouldn’t say anything so I decided. “$25 for the two chairs and table.” Needless to say, when I revealed that information on the day of the big sale, it was not well-received.  All I could do was shrug my shoulders.  I mean, someone walked out with a free $129 Tempur Pedic pillow, and the other pillow I donated was sold for $1.  I guess I’m still not clear on the pricing procedure.  I’m just glad it’s over.

I'm not surprised this didn't sell. Go POKES!

We still have a trailer full of some over-priced and some under-priced goods. I just hate that I still can’t tell which is which.

[julie]

 

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Silent Sunday Afternoon Edition: 3/6/11 ~ Jessica Wolloscheck, Senior Portfolio

Jessica’s words about this series: This album was put together my senior year of college while studying photography.  The inspiration was derived from a box of old family photographs I found. The end result was a series of self-portraits in which I wanted to bring to life the Valium, drug, and alcohol abuse of women during the 60’s and 70’s.

Editor’s note: Next month is Alcohol Awareness Month.  We’re publishing this series now in order to provide a short moment of time to think about whether or not you, your loved ones or someone you know could take advantage of the multiple free screenings or help and resources that will be available beginning April 1st.  Thanks, Red Dirt Kelly

Continue reading Silent Sunday Afternoon Edition: 3/6/11 ~ Jessica Wolloscheck, Senior Portfolio

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My Little Victory Garden: Entry Two

One week before a business down the road from our home opened, torrential rains came and took out their entire retaining wall. In three days, however, the mess was cleaned up and crews worked around the clock to rebuild the wall and the structures it had pulled down. Now restored, the first business is OPEN.

The majority of Oklahoma experienced a sustaining drought throughout last fall and on through Winter 2010-11. No rain.  Zero.  When this kind of thing happens in the winter, it’s not quite as noticeable as it is when green things are growing.  However the situation was pretty bad: until just a few days ago fire warnings had been published, all our snow had only amounted to mere tenths of an inch once melted and the winter wheat was really suffering.

Then last week the rain came.  In torrents.  Although our whole state didn’t get moisture, a good deal did and that “good deal” included My Little Victory Garden.  Two days after Mick had plowed up the beautiful soil into a soft loam for planting, the rain came with a vengeance.  My yard still has “wavy grass” reminders, my garden was flooded and the aftermath is a now uneven, cracked plot with sand in it.  Why sand?  The rain was so hard it found a weak, lower area in our neighbors yard and drilled down behind our retaining wall, oozing out the native sandy loam through the cracks.  But that wasn’t the worst damage.  My garden got off easy.

Did you get a big rain? Did your yard look like this once the water subsided?

Continue reading My Little Victory Garden: Entry Two

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Showcasing Red Dirt culture ~ authored and managed by contributors with connections to the great state of Oklahoma.